But it wasn't only a minute or two before Mother was laughing again,
and saying, "Nonsense!" and "The idea!" and that this was a pretty way
to introduce her little Marie to her new home! Then she hurried me to
the dearest little room I ever saw, right out of hers, and took off my
things. Then we went all over the house. And it's just as lovely as
can be--not at all like Father's in Andersonville.
Oh, Father's is fine and big and handsome, and all that, of course;
but not like this. His is just a nice place to eat and sleep in, and
go to when it rains. But this--this you just want to live in all the
time. Here there are curtains 'way up and sunshine, and flowers in
pots, and magazines, and cozy nooks with cushions everywhere; and
books that you've just been reading laid down. (_All_ Father's books
are in bookcases, _always_, except while one's in your hands being
read.)
Grandpa's other daughter, Mother's sister, Hattie, lives here and
keeps house for Grandpa. She has a little boy named Lester, six years
old; and her husband is dead. They were away for what they called a
week-end when we came, but they got here a little after we did Monday
afternoon; and they're lovely, too.
The house is a straight-up-and-down one with a back and front, but no
sides except the one snug up to you on the right and left.
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