None of them had ever seen her. Philly said he was sure she hadn't any
legs, because she never went away from home, and lay on a sofa all the
time. But the rest knew that this was because Cousin Helen was ill. Papa
always went to visit her twice a year, and he liked to talk to the
children about her, and tell how sweet and patient she was, and what a
pretty room she lived in. Katy and Clover had "played Cousin Helen" so
long, that now they were frightened as well as glad at the idea of
seeing the real one.

"Do you suppose she will want us to say hymns to her all the time?"
asked Clover.

"Not all the time," replied Katy, "because you know she'll get tired,
and have to take naps in the afternoons. And then, of course, she reads
the Bible a great deal. Oh dear, how quiet we shall have to be! I wonder
how long she's going to stay?"

"What do you suppose she looks like?" went on Clover.

"Something like 'Lucy,' in Mrs. Sherwood, I guess, with blue eyes, and
curls, and a long, straight nose. And she'll keep her hands clasped _so_
all the time, and wear 'frilled wrappers,' and lie on the sofa perfectly
still, and never smile, but just look patient. We'll have to take off
our boots in the hall, Clover, and go up stairs in stocking feet, so as
not to make a noise, all the time she stays."

"Won't it be funny!" giggled Clover, her sober little face growing
bright at the idea of this variation on the hymns.

The time seemed very long till the next afternoon, when Cousin Helen was