Van and Percy, just as well pleased, ran hither and yon, very much excited.

"What shall we do to show her we are glad she's coming?" asked Percy, who seized every chance that offered itself to celebrate such events.

"Why, she'll see it," said Joel, pounding away l.u.s.tily. He was mending his tennis racket. "Whickets! I 'most split that"--holding it up ruefully.

"Mrs. Fisher told you not to say that," cried Van, who dearly loved to bring Joel up for correction.

"Well, I didn't mean--" Joel whirled around on him, "And I guess you'd say it if you'd 'most split your racket, so!"

"She told you not to," repeated Van, knowing his power in holding to that simple statement.

"Well, I didn't mean to, I tell you," cried Joel loudly, and very red in the face.

"And she won't like it," said Van, delighted to see the effect of his words.

Joel's face worked, and he flung the broken racket across the room. It fell with a crash; and he ran over to the bed, hopped into the middle of it, and buried his face in his brown hands, his shoulders in distress.

"I didn't mean--go away," he screamed, kicking as hard as he could.

Van, terribly frightened at the storm he had raised, stood perfectly still in the middle of the room.

"There, now, I hope you're satisfied," said Percy, from the other side.

"See what you've done. I guess you'll catch it, Van Whitney," he added pleasantly.

Van, not so much worried over what he would catch as terrified about Joel, ran over to his brother.

"Oh, do stop him," he implored, seizing Percy's hand.

"I can't stop him," said Percy; "you know yourself it's silly to ask me that."

"I must, then," cried Van, scurrying over to the foot of the bed. "Joel, do stop," he begged frantically.

"Go away!" screamed Joel, kicking l.u.s.tily. "I didn't mean to say it. Oh, dear me! Mamsie--Mamsie!" he blubbered, rolling from side to side on the neat, white bed.

"I guess he's going to have a fit," said Percy cheerfully, coming up to view matters at a safe distance from the flying feet.

At this, Van's distress knew no bounds, and, regardless of all possible danger to himself, he ran around the bed and flung himself upon it, to burrow close to Joel's stubby black head.

"Joe, don't," he cried, bursting into tears and hugging him with both frantic arms.

Joel wriggled and screamed, "Go away!" and kicked more than ever, but Van held on st.u.r.dily, and together the two boys rolled over and over across the bed, back and forth, till their breath gave out.

"Oh, just look what you are doing," exclaimed Percy, prancing up and down the room. He had started two or three times to run out and call Mrs.

Fisher; then thought better of it. "You've mussed the bedspread all up; and only look at those shams!"--hanging over the footboard in extreme dismay.

Hearing these last words, both boys rolled apart and thrust up their heads, to gaze at the details in question. There they were, spick and span as usual at the top, but the lower parts were all mussed and wrinkled, while the lace at one end hung down in a small tag.

"Oh, dear me!" cried Joel, huddling up to Van, to throw his arm around his neck, "just see what I've done!"

"Oh, you didn't do it; I did," said Van, giving Joel an affectionate squeeze. "It was all my fault."

"No such thing," declared Joel st.u.r.dily; "if you say so again, I'll fight you."

"And perhaps you can straighten that lace," suggested Percy, with no relish for any further hostilities.

Van and Joel drew off to the foot of the bed, and huddled up there to regard his efforts, as he ran around to the pillows, patting and smoothing them straight.

"That won't do any good," said Joel, in great disfavor; "you can't make the lace whole again."

Van sorrowfully embraced his knees, his feet tucked up under him.

"Oh, what will Jane say?" he breathed fearfully.

"Jane? I don't care for her," said Joel scornfully. "It's Mamsie," and he swallowed hard.

"Perhaps she won't care," cried Van, leaving his knees to take care of themselves, in alarm lest Joel was going off again.

"And just see how you've mussed up the bedspread," Percy couldn't help saying, to relieve his chagrin over the failure to make the pillow shams look nicely, and he drew off and pointed to it tragically. "It looks as if crocodiles had been all over it," he declared, hunting for the worst thing he could think of.

Joel and Van rolled fearful eyes all over the bed.

"I'm going to Mamsie!" was all Joel said, as he rolled over the edge and disappeared from the room.

"Oh, wait," screamed Van. Then he rolled off his side of the bed, took two big steps, and stood quite still in the middle of the floor.

"You've got to go with him and help tell," said Percy pleasantly, as if proposing the most delightful thing. But Van didn't stir.

"Aren't you ashamed!" cried Percy, with a sniff. "I'd like to know if Polly will think it's nice for you to sneak out of it, Van Whitney."

"Ow!" squealed Van. He shot out into the hall, and without giving himself time to think, ran as hard as he could to join Joel in Mother Fisher's room.

Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread, running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.

"As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other," he said to himself. "How in the world does Jane ever make a bed, I wonder?" And at last he deserted it altogether and drew off with a very hot face.

"Heigh-ho! I wish we could do something to celebrate when Rachel comes,"

and he wrinkled his brows in perplexity. "Oh, I know," and he clapped his hands in glee. Then he ran softly out and up to Ben's room.

But Ben wasn't in; so Percy, nearly bursting with a plan that now seemed to him very grand, was obliged to take some one else into his confidence. And that one happened to be old Mr. King, whom he met as he came downstairs with a very rueful countenance.

"What's the matter, Percy?" asked the old gentleman, with a keen glance.

"Nothing, Grandpapa," said Percy dismally.

"Goodness me! Do you carry about such a face as that for nothing?" cried the old gentleman, with a laugh. "You look as if you'd something on your mind, my boy."

"Well, I have, Grandpapa," said Percy, now driven into a corner, and looking up at last.

"Best have it out then," said Grandpapa firmly, taking one of Percy's hands, and they went on to the writing-room.