t of
a tower bay-window on one corner. The carpet was sprinkled with little
rosebuds, and the wall-paper matched it. Some of the chairs and the couch
were covered with chintz, and that, too, had little rosebuds all over
it. The curtains at the windows were of frilled white muslin, and the
dressing table had all sorts of dainty and pretty appointments. There
were twin brass beds, and on the foot of each was a fluffy, rolled
coverlet, with more pink rosebuds.

"What a darling room!" exclaimed Marjorie, as she looked around. "Oh,
Kit, isn't it pretty?"

"Lovely!" agreed Kitty. "And Cousin Ethel is a darling, too. I love her
already! We're going to have a beautiful time here, Mops."

"Yes, indeedy! I wish we were going to stay all summer. Kit, this is a
perfect May room, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's so flowery and bright. What are we going to wear, Mops?"

"White dresses, I s'pose. Our trunk is here, you see."

"And let's wear our Dresden sashes and ribbons,--then we'll match this
rosebuddy room."

And so when Cousin Ethel returned to her young guests, she found them all
spick and span, in their dainty white frocks and pretty ribbons.

"Bless your sweet hearts!" she cried, kissing them both. "You look like
Spring Beauties! Come on downstairs with me."

She put an arm around each of the girls, and they all went down the broad
staircase. In the hall below they met Cousin Jack, who looked at them
with an expression of disappointment on his face.

"Well!" he said. "Well, Susan and Mehitabel,--I'm surprised at you!"

"What's the matter?" asked Marjorie, who could not imagine what Cousin
Jack meant. Kitty, too, looked disturbed, for since Cousin Ethel had
approved of their pretty dresses, she could not think what Cousin Jack
was criticising.

"The idea," he went on, "of you girls coming down dressed like that!"

"What do you mean, Jack?" asked his wife, "I'm sure these darlings look
lovely."

"Yes, they do," and Mr. Bryant's tone was distinctly aggrieved; "but, you
see, I thought we'd play Indians,--and who could play Indians with such
dressed-up poppets as these?"

Cousin Ethel laughed. "Oh, that's all right," she said. "Of course you
can't play Indians to-night, but you can play it all day to-morrow.
And now, I think supper is ready. We usually have dinner at night, but
we're having supper on account of you children."

"You're awfully good to us, Cousin Ethel," said Marjorie, appreciatively.
"We do sit up to dinne