"
The tower at Wishing-Brae was then a large, light garret-room, used for
trunks and boxes. Many a day have I spent there writing stories when I
was a child, and oh! what a prospect there was and is from those
windows--prospect of moors and mountains, of ribbons of rivers and white
roads leading out to the great world. You could see all Highland from
the tower windows. In sunny days and in storms it was a delight beyond
common just to climb the steep stairs and hide one's self there.
We put our heads together, all of us. We resolved at last that the
tower-room should be our birthday gift to Grace. It was quite easy to
contrive and work when she was absent, but not so easy to keep from
talking about the thing in her presence. Once or twice we almost let it
out, but she suspected nothing, and we glided over the danger as over
ice, and hugged ourselves that we had escaped. We meant it for a
surprise.
First of all, of course, the place had to be thoroughly cleaned, then
whitewashed as to the ceiling, and scoured over and over as to the
unpainted wood. Archie Vanderhoven and all the brothers of both families
helped manfully with this, and the two dear old doctors both climbed up
stairs every day, and gave us their criticism. When the cleanness and
the sweetness were like the world after the deluge, we began to furnish.
The floor was stained a deep dark cherry red; Mrs. Raeburn presented the
room with a large rug, called an art-square; Mrs.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182