The room was in one of the wings of the house, and was large and
square, with windows on two sides. But these had been ordinary
windows, and now they were replaced by large, roomy bay windows,
with glass doors that reached from floor to ceiling, and opened
out on little balconies. In one of these bay windows was a dear
little rocking-chair painted white, and a standard work-basket of
dainty white and green wicker, completely furnished with sewing
materials. In the other bay window was a dear little writing-desk
of bird's-eye maple, and a wicker chair in front of it. The desk
was open, and Marjorie could see all sorts of pens and pencils and
paper in fascinating array.

But these were only a few of the surprises. The whole room had
been redecorated, and the walls were papered with a design of
yellow daffodils in little bunches tied with pale green ribbon.
The woodwork was all painted white, and entirely around the room,
at just about the height of Marjorie's chin, ran a broad white
shelf. Of course this shelf stopped for the windows and doors, but
the room was large, and there was a great deal of space left for
the shelf. But it was the things on the shelf that attracted
Marjorie's attention. One side of the room was devoted to books,
and Marjorie quickly recognized many of her old favorites, and
many new ones. On another side of the room the shelf was filled
with flowers, some blooming gayly in pots, and some cut blossoms
in vases of water. On a third side of the room the shelf held
birds, and this sight nearly took Marjorie's breath away. Some
were in gilt cages, a canary, a goldfinch, and another bird whose
name Marjorie did not know. And some were stuffed birds of
brilliant plumage, and mounted in most natural positions on twigs
or branches, or perched upon an ivy vine which was trained along