"There!" she said again, with a sigh of satisfaction. "Nobody can say
I ain't took all the pains with you that anybody could. Now you come
downstairs and set right where I tell you till I come. And don't you say
one single word. Not a word, no matter what happens."

She took the girl's hand and led her down the front stairs. As they
descended Mary-'Gusta could scarcely restrain a gasp of surprise. The
front door was open--the FRONT door--and the child had never seen it
open before, had long ago decided that it was not a truly door at all,
but merely a make-believe like the painted windows on the sides of her
doll house. But now it was wide open and Mr. Hallett, arrayed in a suit
of black, the coat of which puckered under the arms, was standing on the
threshold, looking more soothy than ever. The parlor door was open also,
and the parlor itself--the best first parlor, more sacred and forbidden
even than the "smoke room"--was, as much of it as she could see, filled
with chairs.

Mrs. Hobbs led her into the little room off the parlor, the "back
settin'-room," and, indicating the haircloth and black walnut sofa
against the wall, whispered to her to sit right there and not move.

"Mind now," she whispered, "don't talk and don't stir. I'll be back by
and by."

Mary-'Gusta, left alone, looked wide-eyed about the little back
sitting-room. It, too, was changed; not changed as much as the front
parlor, but changed, nevertheless. Most of the furniture had been
removed. The most comfortable chairs, including the rocker with the
parrot "tidy" on the back, had been taken away. One or two of the