The next morning dawned with a dull, dreary drizzle coming noisily down on the red and yellow leaves of the maple by the window; but the three rose joyously and their ardor was not damped.

“Six days shalt thou labor and do all thy work,” quoted Allison at the breakfast-table. “Cloudy, we’ve got to hustle. Do you mind if it does rain? We’ve got our car.”

But Julia Cloud smiled unconcernedly.

“I should worry,” she said with a gay imitation of Leslie’s inimitable toss of the head, and the two young people laughed so hilariously that the other staid couples already in the dining-room turned in amaze to see who was taking life so happily on a day like this.

They piled into the car, and hied themselves to town at once, chattering joyfully over their list as to which things they would buy first.

“Let’s begin with the kitchen,” said Leslie. “I’m crazy to learn how to make cookies. Cloudy, you’ll teach me how so I can make some all myself, won’t you?”

“And waffles!” said Allison from the front seat.

“Um-mmm-mmmm! I remember Cloudy’s waffles. And buckwheat cakes.”

“We’re going to have everything for the kitchen to make things easy, so that when we can’t get a maid Cloudy won’t be always overdoing,” said Leslie. “Guardy told me especially about that. He said we 169 were to get every convenience to make things easy, so the cook wouldn’t leave; for he’d rather pay any amount than have Cloudy work herself to death and have to break down and leave us.”

So it was the house-furnishing department of the great store to which they first repaired, and there they hovered for two hours among tins and aluminum and wooden ware, discussing the relative charms of white-enamel refrigerators and gas-ranges, vacuum cleaners and dish-washers, the new ideas against the old. Julia Cloud was for careful buying and getting along with few things; the children were infatuated with the idea of a kitchen of their own, and wanted everything in sight. They went wild over a new kind of refrigerator that would freeze its own ice, making ice-cream in the bargain, and run by an electric motor; but here Julia Cloud held firm. No such expensive experiment was needed in their tiny kitchen. A small white, old-fashioned kind was good enough for them. So the children immediately threw their enthusiasm into selecting the best kind of ice-cream freezer.

When they finally went to the tea-room for lunch, everything on Julia Cloud’s list was carefully checked off by Allison with its respective price; and, while they were waiting to be served, he added the column twice to make sure he was right.

“We’re shy five dollars yet of what we planned to spend on our kitchen, Cloudy,” he announced radiantly. “What did I tell you?”

“But where would you have been if I had let you get that refrigerator?” she retorted.

“Well, there were a lot of things we didn’t really need,” he answered.

“Such as what?”

“Oh, clothes-pins and––well, all those pans. Did you need so many?” he answered helplessly.

They laughed his masculine judgment out of countenance, and chatted away about what they should do next, until their order arrived.

They were like three children as they ate their lunch, recalling now and then some purchase which gave them particular pleasure.

Suddenly Julia Cloud lifted her hands in mock distress. “I know what we’ve forgotten! Dish-towels!” she said.

“Dish-towels! Why, sure. We have to have a lot so we can all wipe dishes when the cook goes out. Will five dollars buy them, Cloudy?” asked Leslie distressingly.

“Well, I certainly should hope so!” said Julia Cloud, laughing. “The idea! Five dollars’ worth of dish-towels!”

“Well, we’ll go and get them at once,” said Leslie; “and after that we’ll do the bedrooms.”

Five o’clock found them wending their way homeward once more, tired but happy.

“Now, to-morrow,” said Julia Cloud, leaning back on the soft cushions, “I think we had better stay at home and receive the things. The house must be cleaned at once, and then we can put things right where they are going to belong. Allison, you ought to be able to get a man to wash windows. I’ll ask the chambermaid about a woman to help clean, and Leslie and I will make curtains while you put up the rods.”

They were so interesting a trio at their table in the inn dining-room that night that people around began 171 to ask who were those two charming young people and their beautiful mother. Little ripples of query went around the room as they entered, for they were indeed noticeable anywhere. The young people were bubbling over with life and spirits and kindliness, and Julia Cloud in her silvery robes and her white hair made a pleasant picture. But they were so wholly wrapped up in their own housekeeping plans that they were utterly unaware of the interest they excited in their fellow-boarders. Just at present they had no time to spare on other people. They were playing a game, just as they used to play house when they were little, with their aunt; and they wanted no interruption until they should have completed the home and were ready to move in and begin to live. After that other people might come in for their attention.

The next morning bright and early Allison was up and out, hunting his man, and announced triumphantly at the breakfast-table that he was found and would be down at the house and ready for work in half an hour. Breakfast became a brief ceremony after that. For Julia Cloud also had not been idle, and had procured the address of a good woman to clean the house. Allison rushed off after the car, and in a few minutes they were on their way, first to leave Julia Cloud and Leslie at the house to superintend the man, and then to hunt the woman. He presently returned with a large colored woman sitting imposingly in the back seat, her capable hands folded in her lap, a look of intense satisfaction on her ample countenance.

Julia Cloud had thoughtfully brought from home a large bundle of cleaning-rags, and a little canned-alcohol heater presently supplied hot water. Leslie made a 172 voyage of discovery, and purchased soap and scouring-powder; and soon the whole little house was a hive of workers.

“Now,” said Julia Cloud, opening the bundle of curtain material, “where shall we begin?”

“Right here,” said Leslie, looking around the big white living-room with satisfaction. “I’m just longing to see this look like a home; and you must admit, Cloudy, that this room is the real heart of the house. We’ll eat and sleep and work and study in the other rooms; but here we’ll really live, right around that dear fireplace. I’m just crazy to see it made up and burning. Oh, won’t it be great?”

Busy hands and shining scissors went to work, measuring, cutting, turning hems; and presently a neat pile of white curtains, the hems all turned ready for stitching, lay in the wide back window-seat. Then they went at the other rooms, the sun-porch room and the dining-room. But before that was quite finished a large furniture-truck arrived, and behold the sewing-machine had come! Leslie was so eager to get at it that she could hardly wait until the rest of the load was properly disposed.

She was not an experienced sewer, but she brought to her work an enthusiasm that stood loyally beside her aunt’s experience, and soon some of the curtains were up.

They could not bear to stop and go back to the inn for lunch; so Allison ran down to the pie-shop with the car, and brought back buns cut into halves and buttered, with great slices of ham in them, a pail of hot sweetened coffee, a big cocoanut pie, a bag of cakes and a basket of grapes; and they made a picnic of it.

“Our first meal in our own house! Isn’t it great?” cried Leslie, dancing around with a roll sandwich in one hand and a wedge of pie in the other.

By night every clean little window in that many-windowed house was curtained with white drapery, and in some rooms also with inner curtains of soft silk. The house began to look cozy in spite of its emptiness, and they could hardly bear to leave it when sunset warned them that it was getting near dinner-time and they must return to the inn to freshen up for the evening.

Another day at the little house completed the cleaning and curtaining, and by this time all the furniture so far purchased had arrived, and they had no need to be there to watch for anything else; so another day of shopping was agreed upon.

“And I move we pick out the piano first of all,” said Leslie. “I’m just crazy to get my fingers on the keys again, and you don’t know how well Allison can sing, Cloudy. You just ought to hear him. Oh, boy!”

Julia Cloud smiled adoringly at the two, and agreed that the piano was as good a place as any to begin.

That day was the best of all the wonderful shopping to Julia Cloud. To be actually picking out wonderful mahogany furniture such as she had seen occasionally in houses of the rich, such as she had admired in pictures and read of in magazine articles, seemed too wonderful to be true. For the first time in her life she was to live among beautiful things, and she felt as if she had stepped into at least the anteroom of heaven. It troubled her a little to be allowing the children to spend so much, even though their guardian had made it plain that they had plenty to spend; for it did not 174 seem quite right to use so much on one’s self when so many were in need; but gradually her viewpoint began to change. It was true that these things were only relative, and what seemed much to her was little to another. Perhaps coming directly from her exceedingly limited sphere she was no fit judge of what was right and necessary. And of course there was always the fact that good things lasted, and were continually beautiful if well chosen. Also much good might be done to a large circle of outsiders by a beautiful home.

So Julia Cloud, because the matter of expenditure was not, after all, in her hands, decided just to have a good time and enjoy picking out these wonderful things, interfering only where she thought the article the children selected was not worth buying, or was foolish and useless. But on the whole they got along beautifully, and agreed most marvellously about what fitted the little pink-and-white stone “villa,” as Leslie had named it. “‘Cloud Villa,’ that’s what we’ll call it,” she cried one day in sudden inspiration; and so it was called thereafter in loving jest.

Two days more of hard work, and their list was nearly finished. By this time they were almost weary of continually trying to decide which thing to get. A bewildering jumble of French gray bedsteads and mahogany tables and dining-room chairs swung around in their minds when they went to sleep at night, and smilingly met their waking thoughts. They were beginning to long for the time when they could sit down in the dining-room chairs, and get acquainted with their beds and tables, and feel at home.

“I wish we could get in by Sunday,” grumbled 175 Allison. “It’s fierce hanging around this hotel with nothing to do.”

“Well, why not?” assented Julia Cloud as she buttered her breakfast muffin. “The bedding was promised to come out this morning, and I don’t see why we couldn’t make up the beds and sleep there to-night, although I don’t know whether we can get the gas-range connected in time to do much cooking.”

“Oh, we can come back here for our meals till next week,” declared Leslie. “Then we’ll have time to get the dishes unpacked and washed and put in that lovely china-closet. Perhaps we’ll be able to get at that to-day. The curtains are every blessed one up, inside and out, now; and, if we succeed in getting that maid that you heard of, why, we’ll be all fixed for next week. I do wish those California things would arrive and we could get the rugs down. It doesn’t look homey without rugs and pictures.”

And, sure enough, they had not been at work ten minutes before the newly-acquired telephone bell rang, and the freight agent announced that their goods were at the station, and asked whether they wanted them sent up to-day, for he wanted to get the car out of his way.

In two hours more the goods arrived, and right in the midst of their unloading the delivery-wagons from the city brought a lot more articles; and so the little pink-and-white house was a scene of lively action for some time.

When the last truck had started away from the house, Allison drove the car up.

“Now, Cloudy, you jump in quick, and we’re going back to the inn for lunch. Then you lie down and rest 176 a whole hour, and sleep, or I won’t let you come back,” he announced. “I saw a tired look around your eyes, and it won’t do. We are not going to have you worked out, not if we stay in that old inn for another month. So there!”

He packed them in, and whirled them away to the inn in spite of Julia Cloud’s protest that she was not tired and wanted to work; but, when they came back at two o’clock, they all felt rested and fit for work again.

“Now, I’m the man, and I’m going to boss for a while,” said Allison. “You two ladies go up-stairs, and make beds. Here, which are the blankets and sheets? I’ll take the bundles right up there, and you won’t have any running up and down to do. These? All of them? All right. Now come on up, and I’ll be undoing the rugs and boxes from California. When you come down, they’ll be all ready for you to say where they shall go.”

Leslie and her aunt laughingly complied, and had a beautiful time unfolding and spreading the fine white sheets, plumping the new pillows into their cases, laying the soft, gay-bordered blankets and pretty white spreads, till each bed was fair and fit for a good night’s sleep. And then at the foot of each was plumped, in a puff of beauty, the bright satin eiderdowns that Leslie had insisted upon. Rose-color for Julia Cloud’s, robin’s-egg blue for Leslie’s, and orange and brown for Allison’s, who had insisted upon mahogany and quiet colors for his room. Leslie’s furniture was ivory-white, and Julia Cloud’s room was furnished in French gray enamel, with insets of fine cane-work. She stood a moment in the open doorway, and looked about the place; soft gray walls, with a trellis of roses at the 177 top, filmy white draperies with a touch of rose, a gray couch luxuriously upholstered, with many pillows, some rose, some gray, a thick, gray rug under her feet, and her own little gray desk drawn out conveniently when she wanted to write. Over all a flood of autumn sunshine, and on the wall a great water-color of a marvellous sunset that Leslie had insisted belonged in that room and must be bought or the furnishing would not be complete.

It filled Julia Cloud’s eyes with tears of wonder and gratitude to think that such a princess’s abode should have come to be her abiding-place after her long years of barren living in dreary surroundings. She lifted her eyes to the sunset picture on the wall, and it reminded her of the evening when she had stood at her own home window in her distress and sorrow, looking into the gray future, and had watched it break into rose-color before her eyes. For just an instant after Leslie had run down-stairs she closed her door, and dropped upon her knees beside the lovely bed to thank her Lord for this green and pleasant pasture where He had led her tired feet.

Allison had all the rugs spread out on the porch and lawn, and he and Leslie were hard at work giving them a good sweeping. They were wonderful rugs, just such as one would expect to come from a home of wealth where money had never been a consideration. Julia Cloud looked at them almost with awe, recognizing by instinct the priceless worth of them, and almost afraid at the idea of living a common, daily life on them. For Julia Cloud had read about rugs. She knew that in far lands poor peasant people, whole families, sometimes wove their history into them for a mere 178 pittance; and they had come to mean something almost sacred in her thoughts.

But Allison and Leslie had no such reverence for them; and they swept away gayly, and slammed them about familiarly, in a happy hurry to get them in place. So presently the big blue Chinese rug covered the living-room, almost literally; for it was an immense one, and left very little margin around it. A handsome Kermanshah in old rose and old gold with pencillings of black was spread forth under the mahogany dining-table, and a rich dark-red and black Bokhara runner fitted the porch-room as if it had been bought for it. The smaller rugs were quickly disposed here and there, a lovely little rose-colored silk prayer rug being forced upon Julia Cloud for her bedroom as just the finishing touch it needed, and Leslie took possession of two or three smaller blue rugs for her room. Then they turned their attention to pictures, bits of jade and bronze, a few rare pieces of furniture, a wonderful old bronze lamp with a great dragon on a sea of wonderful blue enamel, with a shade that cast an amber light; brass andirons and fender, and a lot of other little things that go to make a lovely home.

“Now,” said Allison, “when we get our books unpacked, and some magazines thrown around, it will look like living. Cloudy, can we sleep here to-night?”

“Why, surely,” said Julia Cloud with a child-like delight in her eyes. “What’s to hinder? I feel as if I was in a dream, and if I didn’t go right on playing it was true I would wake up and find it all gone.”

So they rode back to the inn for their supper, hurried their belongings into the trunk, and moved bag 179 and baggage into the new house at nine o’clock on Saturday night.

While Leslie and her aunt were up-stairs putting away their clothes from the trunk into the new closets and bureau-drawers, Allison brought in a few kindlings, and made a bit of a fire on the hearth; and now he called them down.

“We’ve got to have a housewarming the first night, Cloudy,” he called. “Come down and see how it all looks in the firelight.”

So the two came down-stairs, and all three sat together on the deep-blue velvet settee in front of the fireplace, Julia Cloud in the middle and a child on either side.

They were all very tired and did not say much, just sat together happily, watching the wood blaze up and flicker and fall into embers. Presently both children nestled closer to her, and put down a head on each of her shoulders. So they sat for a long time quietly.

“Now,” said Julia Cloud, as the fire died down and the room grew dusky with shadows, “it is time we went to bed. But there is something I wish we could do this first night in our new home. Don’t you think we ought to dedicate it to God, or at least thank God for giving it to us? Would you be willing to kneel down with me, and––we might just all pray silently, if you don’t feel like praying out loud. Would you be willing to do that?”

There was a tender silence for a moment while the children thought.

“Sure!” growled Allison huskily. “You pray out, Cloudy. We’d like it.”

“Yes,” whispered Leslie, nestling her hand in her aunt’s.

And so, trembling, half fearful, her heart in her throat, but bravely, Julia Cloud knelt with a child on either side, hiding wondering, embarrassed, but loyal faces.

There was a tense silence while Julia Cloud struggled for words to break through her unwilling lips, and then quite softly she breathed:

“O dear Christ, come and dwell in this home, and bless it. Help us to live to please Thee. Help me to be a wise guide to these dear children–––”

She paused, her voice suddenly giving way with a nervous choke in her throat, and two young hands instantly squeezed her hands in sympathy.

Then a gruff young voice burst out on one side,

“Help me to be good, and not hurt her or make it hard for her.”

And Leslie gasped out, “And me, too, dear God!”

Then a moment more, and they all rose, tears on their faces. In the dying firelight they kissed Julia Cloud fervently, and said good-night.