All the young Maybrights, with the exception of the baby, were collected in the morning-room. It was the middle of October. The summer heat had long departed, the trees were shedding their leaves fast, the sky had an appearance of coming wind and showers; the great stretch of moorland which could be seen best in winter when the oaks and elms were bare, was distinctly visible. The moor had broad shadows on it, also tracts of intense light; the bracken was changing from green to brown and yellow color—brilliant color was everywhere. At this time of year the moors in many ways looked their best.

The Maybright children, however, were not thinking of the landscape, or the fast approach of winter, they were busily engaged chattering and consulting together. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and they knew that the time left for them to prepare was short, consequently their busy fingers worked as well as their tongues. Helen was helping the twins and the little boys to make up a wreath of enormous dimensions, and Polly, as usual, was flitting about the room, followed by her satellite Firefly. As usual, too, Polly was first to remark and quickest to censure. She looked very much like the old Polly; no outward change was in the least visible, although now she yielded a kind of obedience to the most gentle and unexacting of sisters, and although she still vowed daily to herself, that she, Polly, would certainly climb the highest mountain, and for father’s sake would be the best of all his children.

“How slow you are, Nell,” she now exclaimed, impatiently; “and look what a crooked ‘E’ you have made to the end of ‘WELCOME.’ Oh, don’t be so slow, boys! Paul and Virginia will be here before we are half ready.”

“They can’t come before six o’clock,” said Helen. “We have two hours yet left to work in. Do, dear, pretty Polly, find something else to take up your time, and let the twins and the boys help me to finish this wreath.”

“Oh, if you don’t want me,” said Polly, in a slightly offended voice. “Come along, Fly, we’ll go up and see if Virginia’s room is ready, and then we’ll pay a visit to our baby. You and I won’t stay where we are not wanted. Come along.”

Fly trotted off by her elder sister’s side, a great light of contentment filling her big eyes. The two scampered upstairs,[Pg 83] saw that a cozy nest was all ready for the Australian girl, while a smaller room at the other side of the passage was in equal readiness for the boy.

“Oh, what darling flowers!” said Firefly, running up to the dressing table in the principal bedroom, and sniffing at the contents of a dainty blue jar. “Why, Polly, these buds must be from your own pet tea-rose.”

“Yes,” said Polly, in a careless voice, “they are; I picked them for Virginia this morning. I’d do anything for Virginia. I’m greatly excited about her coming.”

“You never saw her,” said Firefly, in an aggrieved voice. “You wouldn’t give me your tea-roses. I don’t think it’s nice of you to be fonder of her than you are of me. And Nursie says her name isn’t Virginia.”

“Never mind, she’s Virginia to me, and the boy is Paul. Why, Fly, what a jealous little piece you are. Come here, and sit on my lap. Of course I’m fond of you, Fly, but I’m not excited about you. I know just the kind of nose you have, and the kind of mouth, and the kind of big, scarecrow eyes, but you see I don’t know anything at all about Virginia, so I’m making up stories about her, and pictures, all day long. I expect she’s something of a barbarian, both she and her brother, and isn’t it delicious to think of having two real live barbarians in the house?”

“Yes,” said Firefly, in a dubious voice. “I suppose if they are real barbarians, they won’t know a bit how to behave, and we’ll have to teach them. I’ll rather like that.”

“Oh, you’ll have to be awfully good, Fly, for they’ll copy you in every way; no sulking or sitting crooked, or having untidy hair, or you’ll have a couple of barbarians just doing the very same thing. Now, jump off my lap, I want to go to Nurse, and you may come with me as a great treat. I’m going to undress baby. I do it every night; and you may see how I manage. Nurse says I’m very clever about the way I manage babies.”

“Oh, you’re clever about everything,” said Fly, with a prolonged, deep-drawn breath. “Well, Polly, I do hope one thing.”

“Yes?”

“I do hope that the barbarians will be very, very ugly, for after you’ve seen them you won’t be curious any more, and after you know them there won’t be any stories to make up, and then you won’t love them better than me.”

“What a silly you are, Fly,” responded Polly.

But she gave her little sister’s hand an affectionate squeeze, which satisfied the hungry and exacting heart of its small owner for the present.

Meanwhile the enormous wreath progressed well, and presently took upon important position over the house doorway. As the daylight was getting dim, and as it would, in the estimation of the children, be the cruellest thing possible if the full glories of the wreath were not visible to the eyes of[Pg 84] the strangers when they approached Sleepy Hollow, lamps were cunningly placed in positions where their full light could fal............