After supper we went over the house to see the various furnishings by
firelight. Pete had built roaring fires in each bedroom to take off
the chill, and was to keep them going till the rooms should be occupied
on the night of the fifteenth; this was necessary against the
increasing cold.
I confess I had worked to some purpose, and Mrs. Macleod and every
member of the household seconded me with might and main. Now, in a
body, the eight of us trooped from room to room, to enjoy the sight of
the labor of our hands. Angelique was stolidly content. Marie was
volubly enthusiastic. Cale, his hands in his pockets, took in all with
keen appreciative eyes, and expressed his satisfaction in a few words:
"'T ain't every man can get a welcome home like this."
"You 're right, Cale," said Jamie, "and there are n't so many men it's
worth doing all this for."
We stood together, admiring,--and I was happy. I had spent but
eighty-seven dollars, "_pieces_", and the rooms did look so inviting!
The windows and beds were hung with the English chintz, which was old
fashioned, a mixture of red and white with a touch of gray. I had sent
to Montreal for fine lamb's wool coverlets for every bed. The village
furnished plain deal tables for writing. Jamie stained them dark oak,
and I put on desk pads and writing utensils. Two easy chairs cushioned
with the chintz were in each room. The old English-ware toilet sets of
white and gold looked really stately on the old-fashioned stands. Mrs.
Macleod sewed, with Marie's help, until she had provided every window
with an inner set of white dimity curtains, every washstand, every
bureau and table with a cover. She made sheets by the dozen which
Angelique and Marie laundered. Pete had polished the fine old brass
andirons, that furnished each fireplace, till they shone. My bedroom
foot-rugs were pronounced a success, and graced the rag carpets beside
each bed; they were of coarse gray and white fur. Marie had found in
the garret some long-unused white china candlesticks of curious design,
like those in my room; a pair stood on each bureau.
We were standing about in the Doctor's room, admiring. The firelight
played on the white walls, deepened the red in the hangings to crimson,
shone in the ball-topped andirons, and lighted the pleased satisfied
faces about me. A sudden thought struck a chill to my heart:
"What a contrast between this room and that poor basement in V----
Court where, twenty-six years ago, the man who is going to enjoy this
comfort fought for my mother's life, and succeeded in giving me mine!"