es, only, of course, we couldn't take our violins then, so we used
to like the pleasant days better. But there are some things you find on
rainy days that you couldn't find any other time, aren't there? The
dance of the drops on the leaves, and the rush of the rain when the
wind gets behind it. Don't you love to feel it, out in the open spaces,
where the wind just gets a good chance to push?"

Mrs. Holly stared. Then she shivered and threw up her hands with a
gesture of hopeless abandonment.

"Land's sake, boy!" she ejaculated feebly, as she turned back to her
work.

From dishes to sweeping, and from sweeping to dusting, hurried Mrs.
Holly, going at last into the somber parlor, always carefully guarded
from sun and air. Watching her, mutely, David trailed behind, his eyes
staring a little as they fell upon the multitude of objects that parlor
contained: the haircloth chairs, the long sofa, the marble-topped
table, the curtains, cushions, spreads, and "throws," the innumerable
mats and tidies, the hair-wreath, the wax flowers under their glass
dome, the dried grasses, the marvelous bouquets of scarlet, green, and
purple everlastings, the stones and shells and many-sized, many-shaped
vases arranged as if in line of battle along the corner shelves.

"Y--yes, you may come in," called Mrs. Holly, glancing back at the
hesitating boy in the doorway. "But you mustn't touch anything. I'm
going to dust."

"But I haven't seen this room before," ruminated David.

"Well, no," deigned Mrs. Holly, with just a touch of superiority. "We
don't use this room common, little boy, nor the bedroom there, either.
This is the company room, for ministers and funerals, and--" She
stopped hastily, with a quick look at David; but the boy did not seem
to have heard.

"And doesn't anybody live here in this house, but just you and Mr.
Holly, and Mr. Perry Larson?" he asked, still looking wonderingly about
him.

"No, not--now." Mrs. Holly drew in her breath with a little catch, and
glanced at the framed portrait of a little boy on the wall.

"But you've got such a lot of rooms and--and things," remarked David.
"Why, daddy and I only had two rooms, and not hardly any THINGS. It was
so--different, you know, in my home."

"I should say it might have been!" Mrs. Holly began to dust hurriedly,
but carefully. Her voice still carried its hint of superiority.

"Oh, yes," smiled David. "But you say you don't use this room much, so
that helps."