Chapter 8 THAT MOVING WEEK-MONDAY.

"Mary, will you see what is keeping the little folks? Perhaps Aunt Mandy does not find it an easy matter to get both Berta and Beth ready in time for breakfast."

"Yes, Father; but the twinnies ran past my room and down the stairs some time ago. Maybe they are in the yard."

"I think that is where you will find them, Mary," said Mrs. Marvin. "Dick spied them from the window and could hardly wait until I had finished brushing his hair. He said Jack was needed, too."

Mr. and Mrs. Marvin with Wilhelmina and their eight boys had arrived in New York a few days before the landing of the steamer on which the Selwyns returned from Europe. They had come all the way from Georgia to welcome these old friends whom they had never expected to see again in this world; and there had been great rejoicing at the dock when the steamer landed. Mr. Marvin had planned to start for home with his six eldest boys that same evening, leaving his wife with four-year-old Dick and baby Jack as company for Wilhelmina until school should reopen at Maryvale. But Mr. Selwyn and Doctor Carlton would not listen to such a plan; and at last Mr. Marvin had to promise that his whole family should be their guests until it was time for his two eldest boys to return to college. But when he learned of the purchase of Bird-a-Lea, he declared that he could not be held to his promise, because it would be out of the question for the Selwyns to begin moving with so many children in the house. So on Sunday evening he left with Phil, Harry, Joe, Frank, Bob and Freddie for Sunnymead, their beautiful plantation home.

And now, Monday morning, the four little ones were missing from the breakfast table.

"'Making a s'prise,' I'll be bound," laughed the Doctor. "I hope it will turn out more happily than most of those that the twins plan."

As Mary neared the door leading to the side porch, she heard the little ones giggling; but at her call that breakfast was ready, there was a chorus of, "Oh! oh! don't come, Mary!" "Jes' a minute!" "No fair peeking!" "We's making a most beauty, grand s'prise for ev'ybody, and it's 'most ready!"

Mary, laughing, returned to the dining-room, and a few minutes later, the screen door banged. All at the table paused, smiling at the loud whispers and smothered giggles coming from the hall. Then they heard Dick say, "But Father always says, 'Ladies first.'"

"But we isn't ladies, Dick," gurgled Beth. "We's jes' little folkses." To which Berta agreed, "Yes, nennybody didn't ever call us ladies, Dick, not ever, ever at all."

"Not ever, ever at all," echoed her sister.

"But we can be-tend we's ladies, Beth, if Dick likes us to be. Mother says it isn't p'lite if we doesn't play same as our comp'ny likes us to. So I'll go first." And into the dining-room, single file, marched the four. Just inside the door they lined up, Berta proudly announcing, "We's going to help ev'ybody in the whole house."

"Indeed!" Mr. Selwyn was forced to laugh in spite of himself. "Don't you think you might have waited until after breakfast to don your working clothes? and where did you find the overalls for your guests, eh?"

"Oh, Dick finded them in Willy-mean's shootcase, Daddy; and Beth and I lended Aunt Mandy's apins. I'se quite sure she won't mind, 'cause we's going to help her 'mensely, too."

Wilhelmina stopped laughing long enough to explain: "Yes, Mother, Dick came to me at the last minute with his overalls and Jack's. I couldn't see why he wanted to bring them; but they didn't take up much room in my little suitcase."

Dick wriggled uneasily under his mother's surprised look.

"But you do not expect to sit at table in your working clothes, do you, son? Jack, being only two years old, does not know any better; but a big boy of nearly four and a half--"

"That's jes' 'zactly what Dick said, Aunt Etta." Though not related, the children of each family always called the grown folks of the other, uncle and aunt. "He told us you doesn't like over-halls so very well for breakfus; but--but--oh, dear, me! they's such a drefful many things to do, you see, that we thinked we ought to be ready afore breakfus. Doesn't you think you could possiglee 'scuse us jes' this once-you and Daddy and Mother and Uncle Frank? I'se quite sure Willy-mean and Mary doesn't mind over-halls and gingham apins."

"Perhaps we can do so, Berta, since this is the first moving-day that we have ever had in any of our lives." Mrs. Marvin looked very grave. "What do you think about it, Elizabeth?"

"I quite agree with you, Etta, if these little folks will remember to lay aside their working clothes at meal time in future." Mrs. Selwyn was just as serious as Mrs. Marvin.

"And the very first one we is going to help is Daddy."

"I fear you can not do anything to assist me until later in the day, Beth, thank you. I am going to take the library in hand, and the books that I shall pack this morning will be too large and heavy for such little people to handle. However, I am very sure that you can make yourselves useful by carrying messages for every one."

"Oh, goody! I hope they's going to be great, big, heavy ones. Dick has strong mushes in his arms, and he's going to show Beth and me how to get some, too, so we can lift big things like--like trunks!"

"Better begin with your doll trunks, then. It will take many years for even Dick's muscles to grow strong enough to lift a steamer trunk, for instance."

"Oh, but I'se quite sure you never did see Dick's mushes, Uncle Frank."

The morning was a very exciting one for the four little folks. Up the front stairs, through the halls, down the back stairs, they raced, Berta always leading, and baby Jack, carefully watched by Beth, bringing up the rear. At the door of every room where packing was being done, they stopped while their leader asked, "Does you s'pects you would like us to help you?" until the oft-repeated answer, "Not just at present," at last caused the twins to sink on the stairs and sob out their disappointment.

Knowing that his mother was with Mrs. Selwyn in the storeroom on the third floor, Dick ran for his sister and Mary, who were busy carrying piles of sheets, pillowcases, towels, and table linen from a closet in the hall to a big trunk in one of the bedrooms.

"Come quick, Willie! The girls are crying their eyes out, 'cause they can't help."

"I suppose they could carry some of these things, Mary. Then I can climb the ladder and hand you the ones on the high shelves."

The twins were soon comforted, and for a time the four trotted back and forth with small piles of linen. It was not long before Berta thought of a "s'prise;" and when Mary went to the bedroom to see what was delaying them, she was just in time to see the procession starting down the back stairs, each member of it carefully bearing a piece of drawn work or embroidery. Her cry of dismay halted them.

"Oh, we's jes' going to wrap them in the nice w'ite disher paper what's on the table in the dining-room, and then we's going to pack them in one of those big boxes in the liberry, same as Daddy is doing with the books."

Mary, remembering the storm of a quarter of an hour before, thought a moment before speaking. "It's this way, Berta. When we get to Bird-a-Lea, it will be much easier for Mother to find these center pieces and things if they are packed in the trunk with the table cloths and napkins. She is not very strong yet, you know, and Uncle Frank has asked us to help her in every way we can; don't you remember?"

"Ye--es, Mary, but--but--"

"Why don't you go out in the yard to play for a little while? You need a rest, I think."

"Rest! rest! The very idea! Rest when ev'ybody is working so hard as they can, and they's such a drefful many things to do? Why, Mary, I'se on the shock at you! I s'pects you think we's lazy. We'll jes' go right down and help Liza, so we will!"

Liza in the pantry on the top step of a ladder heard them coming. "'Clah to goodness! Ef'n dem chilluns am gwine to come in heah pesterin' dis heah niggah, I reckon dey won't be no moah work dis mawnin'. Why fo' Aunt Mandy doan' keep dem upstairs wif her, I lak to know."

The four stood in the doorway.

"Does you s'pects we can help you, Liza?"

"Wal, now, Missy Berta, dey might be sumpin yo' alls kin do aftah while, but not jes' dis instinct, honey; 'kase yo' see, dis yeah chile got to git all dese t'ings down off'n de top shelf fust t'ing. Dey's milk an' cookies on de li'l table out on de back porch fo' yo' alls, an' aftah yo's done wif dat, Aunt Mandy wants yo' to help her, I reckon. She am powahful busy packin' up all yo' clothes and t'ings."

"We's going to help her the very 'zact instinct when we eat the milk and cookies, Liza."

"Dat's right, Missy Bef. I jes' knowed yo' would ef'n I told yo' how plumb tiahed out she am." And Liza chuckled as the little ones ran off.

They found the old nurse packing dainty white dresses in a trunk.

"We's going to help you, Aunt Mandy. We'll carry ev'ything right over by side you, and you can put them in the trunk, so you can."

"Bress yo' li'l heart, Missy Berta! Yo' sho'ly kin help yo' ole mammy a right smart. Ma ole laigs gits powahful tiahed walkin' round disaway. Dats' right, Missy Bef. Bring dem li'l pettiskirts right obah heah; an' Massa Dick kin fotch dem li'l shoes, an' Massa Jack dat stockin' pile."

All went well until Aunt Mandy caught Berta carefully wrapping a pair of slippers in a hand embroidered white dress, and Beth stuffing dainty little handkerchiefs into her rubbers.

"Laws a massy! Go 'long out'n heah wif yo'! Yo's nuffin but babies, nohow. Git yo' dollies an' play lak nice li'l chilluns." And she drove them before her into the playroom and closed the door on them.

But Dick Marvin had no more use for dolls than his elder brothers had; so the twins brought out their picture books and games, which he had already seen. At last a bright idea struck him.

"What's that big box for, Beth?"

"That's Mary's toy box when she was a little girl. She said we can have it now for our dollies and ev'ything."

"Then why don't you pack your dolls and things in it? Come on, I'll help you."

"That's zactly what we'll do, and then we'll be the same as big folkses, won't we, Dick?"

The little fellow was not quite sure of that and wisely said nothing, but began to examine the hinges and clasp of the strong oak box. Berta and Beth took their dolls and let Jack carry their other toys to him, and Dick stowed them away with more speed than care. Soon the box was filled to over-flowing.

"The cover doesn't close tight, so we'll have to jump on it, girls."

"Oh, goody, Dick! We jes' love to jump on trunks and things."

They scrambled up on the box and jumped, jumped, jumped! Snap! Crack!

"Oh, my dear! What's that, Beth?"

"It's just the things settling down, Berta," explained Dick, jumping off the box to fasten the clasp.

"Oh! oh! there's my big rubber ball under the table. That must go in the box, too, Dick."

"All right, Beth. I'll open it again." Dick threw back the cover; and with a cry of dismay, Beth snatched up a doll from the box.

"My Lucy doll! My mos' beauty chile! Oh, oh, oh!" And she sank to the floor, hugging the doll to her and rocking back and forth in her grief. "My chile, my mos' beauty chile!" she moaned. "Your face is all in seven, five, ten pieces, and your eyes-- Berta! my Lucy's eyes are all gone!" Great sobs shook her frail, little form.

Berta flung her arms about her sister, doll and all, while Dick shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Don't--don't cry, Beth. I'll ask Mother to get you another doll 'zactly like that one. It's all my fault, 'cause I told you to jump on the box. Mother'll get you a doll 'zactly like that one. I'll go with her to show her the kind."

"Oh, d--dear--m--m--me!" the little mother sobbed. "But she'll b--b--be some other d--dollie, n--not my Lucy d--doll what I love most of all. A--and 'sides--it isn't your fault--'c--'cause I jumped right--on t--top of her, so I d--did,--and--now she's d--deaded, so sh--she is! Oh, my poor little chile! M--my most beauty chile!"

"Oh, I say, Beth, don't cry like that! I'll tell you what we'll do. Let's have a fun'ral. You and Berta dress Lucy in her best white dress and put her in a nice white box with lace and shiny soft stuff and flowers all around her, and I'll dig a grave under that big rose bush in the garden, and we'll bury her. That's what they did with my little cousin when she died. My, she looked mighty pretty, only she was too white. And you two ought to wear black dresses and black veils hanging down behind, and--and--"

The little girls listened, eyes and mouths wide open.

"But what is a grave what you said you is going to dig, Dick?"

"It's a big hole in the ground, Berta, and--"

With a frightened scream, Beth sprang to her feet, and holding the doll close, ran from the room just as Aunt Mandy appeared at one door and Mary and Wilhelmina at the other.

"Don't let him! don't let him, Mary! Oh, my poor little chile, my Lucy doll is deaded, Mary!" Beth clung sobbing to her sister.

Wilhelmina's eyes flashed. "Dick, you ought to be ashamed of yourself--"

"Wait a minute, Wilhelmina. I'm sure Dick wouldn't break Beth's doll on purpose."

"Course I wouldn't, Mary."

"No, Willy-mean, it was a ac'cent; and Mother says ac'cents will happen in the very best famblies, and Aunt Mandy says we is the very best fambly in the land-and so is you, Willy-mean, I'se quite sure." And Berta gave an account of what had happened. "But Beth doesn't like to play fun'ral with Lucy, 'cause we has to put her in a hole in the ground--"

"But perhaps Lucy isn't quite dead, Bethy, and Uncle Frank may be able to cure her, you know. Let me look at her a minute."

At sight of the broken face, Mary's heart sank. She saw that no amount of glue would restore poor Lucy to health; but she did not tell Beth so, for another thought had entered her head. "I am afraid she is a very sick child. Let us put her to bed in my room until Uncle comes home. I think it will take a long, long time to cure her, Beth; so don't you think you had better have one of my dolls instead? Come, let us look in my little trunk where they are all packed away."

She led the sobbing child into her own room, Wilhelmina and three very sober little folks following; but though Mary gave Beth her choice, even placing the lovely Amelia Anabelle in her arms, the little girl could find no doll to take the place of her "most beauty chile."

Then another thought came to Mary. "Why, I do believe Lucy looks a little better. Don't you think so, Wilhelmina? We shall pull down the shades and let her take a long nap, and I am sure Uncle will be able to make her well very soon, Beth. Now, children, you mustn't come into this room again until Uncle has seen Lucy. She must be kept very quiet, you know. I shall take good care of her, Beth, so don't worry any more about her, precious."

Mary followed the little ones out into the hall and watched them as they went slowly down the stairs; then she returned to her own room, where Wilhelmina was trying to fit the pieces of the doll's face together.

"I don't blame Beth one bit for making a fuss over this doll, Mary. You know I have never had any use for dolls, but this one must have been dear with her brown eyes and fair, bobbed hair. I fished her eyes up out of her neck."

"She was a darling doll, Wilhelmina. The only thing that we can do is to go to the same store and try to get another exactly like her."

"Let me take another look at those dolls in the trunk, Mary." Wilhelmina had just succeeded in piecing Lucy's face together and stood with it between her hands. "There-that one with the long brown curls. Hold her beside this one and cover her hair."

"Wilhelmina! She is the image of Lucy! Oh, I'm so glad! We shall put Lucy's wig and clothes on her, and Beth will never know the difference."