Both the girls gasp as, taking courage, they advance further into the room. Their eyes fill with tears as they recognize some of their much-prized belongings which they had never expected to possess again; and they are both so touched at the kind delicacy of thought for them which is so plainly visible in every little detail of the room, that for a second or two they are too much overcome to speak. Hugh, who is leaning with one elbow on the mantel-piece, sees the struggle which both the girls are making for composure, and fearful of the consequences, having already all an Englishman's horror of "a scene," he says rather abruptly, "I hope you will all like it. The working affair is mother's arrangement, and I believe it is well furnished. The easel, the painting things,--and the statuettes were Regy's thought; and everything else is--well, among us all, as it were;" the real fact being that the "everything else" alluded to had been Hugh's own particular care.
"O, Hugh," cry both the girls, darting forward and each seizing one of the young fellow's hands, "how good--how _kind_ of you! and how beautifully you have arranged everything, in this short time too!"
"Well, to tell you the truth, I believe Alick, Regy, and I have each worn out a pair of trousers walking round the room on our knees--doing the staining and polishing, you know; for that was a big job, and we were so afraid we wouldn't get it done in time. We had to press Ted and also Dick (under strict promise of secrecy) into the service the last day or two."
The girls having now quite recovered themselves, they proceed to make a tour of inspection round the room; and Molly, having dived behind the curtain, discovers Honor's old big portfolio filled to overflowing with sketches, good, bad, and indifferent, which the poor girl, thinking sketching and painting days were over, had had no heart to bring away with her. Making this discovery Molly cries with enthusiasm:
"Why, here is Honor's dear old portfolio! You _are_ good to have thought of that! I know it was you, because here is the label in your own handwriting. I could hug you for that, Hugh!"
"Well, why don't you?" asks Hugh promptly.
At this moment Honor, who is standing at one of the windows feasting her eyes on the lovely view which is stretching far and wide, exclaims: