hurry about something. "It isn't new. It's been there ever and ever so
long! Come into the parlor instead."

"Yes!" said Papa, "dinner isn't quite ready yet, you'll have time to
rest a little after your walk down stairs. You have borne it admirably,
Katy. Are you very tired?"

"Not a bit!" replied Katy, cheerfully. "I could do it alone, I think.
Oh! the bookcase door has been mended! How nice it looks."

"Don't wait, oh, don't wait!" repeated Phil, in an agony of impatience.

So they moved on. Papa opened the parlor door. Katy took one step into
the room--then stopped. The color flashed over her face, and she held
by the door-knob to support herself. What was it that she saw?

Not merely the room itself, with its fresh muslin curtains and vases of
flowers. Nor even the wide, beautiful window which had been cut toward
the sun, or the inviting little couch and table which stood there,
evidently for her. No, there was something else! The sofa was pulled out
and there upon it, supported by pillows, her bright eyes turned to the
door, lay--Cousin Helen! When she saw Katy, she held out her arms.

Clover and Cecy agreed afterward that they never were so frightened in
their lives as at this moment; for Katy, forgetting her weakness, let go
of Papa's arm, and absolutely _ran_ toward the sofa. "Oh, Cousin Helen!
dear, dear Cousin Helen!" she cried. Then she tumbled down by the sofa
somehow, the two pairs of arms and the two faces met, and for a moment
or two not a word more was heard from anybody.