mother so wistfully that the good woman could not refuse.

"You may have anything you like out of the blue chest. There's a
lot of things there that the moths got at after Grandma died, and I
couldn't bear to throw or give 'em away. Trim up your room as you
like, and mind you don't forget your part of the bargain," answered
Mrs. Grant, seeing profit in the plan.

"I won't; I'll work all the morning to-morrow, and in the afternoon
I'll get ready to show you what I call a nice, pretty room,"
answered Merry, looking so pleased it seemed as if another flower
had blossomed in the large bare kitchen.

She kept her word, and the very stormy afternoon when Jill got
into trouble, Merry was working busily at her little bower. In the
blue chest she found a variety of treasures, and ignoring the moth
holes, used them to the best advantage, trying to imitate the simple
comfort with a touch of elegance which prevailed in Mrs. Minot's
back bedroom.

Three faded red-moreen curtains went up at the windows over the
chilly paper shades, giving a pleasant glow to the bare walls. A red
quilt with white stars, rather the worse for many washings, covered
the bed, and a gay cloth the table, where a judicious arrangement
of books and baskets concealed the spots. The little air-tight stove
was banished, and a pair of ancient andirons shone in the fire-light.
Grandma's last and largest braided rug lay on the hearth, and her
brass candlesticks adorned the bureau, over the mirror of which
was festooned a white muslin skirt, tied up with Merry's red sash.
This piece of elegance gave the last touch to her room, she