Something must be done, and at once.  It was now eleven o’clock.  There was none too much time in which to make ready.  Sally began reluctantly to plan.  The Chases must have her room, of course; it was the best in the flat, measuring eight feet by ten.  Bob would have to go in with Uncle Timothy and let Sally have his usual quarters, the couch in the living-room.  Sally’s room must be hastily put in guest-room order—­no easy task, in a space where every inch counts because it must be made the most of.  She was thankful, for once, that she need expect none of her family home to luncheon.

At noon, however, quite unexpectedly Bob ran in upon her, an errand from the office where he worked having brought him within a stone’s throw of home.  He liked to surprise Sally with two-minute visits, when he could do so by making time over the rest of his course.

“Hello, what’s up?” was his greeting, as he surveyed his sister standing in the centre of an extraordinary confusion of furnishings which seemed to him to extend over the entire flat.

Sally flung down her dust-cloth and sank into a chair, showing a flushed face and disturbed eyes.

“Max telephoned that the Chases are coming to-night—­Neil and Dorothy, on their way somewhere.  Isn’t it horrible?  What do you suppose they’ll think of things here?”

“Well, well—­old Neil’s coming to show us his chest expansion, is he?  And my Lady Dolly!  Hum—­well—­I guess it will do’em good to see how some people live.  Mrs. Chase will bring four trunks and a lot of hand stuff, will she?  If she does, we’ll move out and leave them the place.”

“Mercy!  They’re only going to stay overnight—­at least, I think that’s all.  The only thing that keeps me up is the thought that at this time to-morrow they’ll be gone!  A hospitable hostess I am, Bob.  But—­Oh, Bobby, my head aches so this morning I just can’t rise to the occasion!”

“Your head aches?  What’s the reason for that?” Bob asked, in some dismay.  “You’re not a headache sort of girl.”

“No, and that’s why it seems to take the pluck out of me so.  It ached yesterday, too.  And I feel just heavy and stupid.”

As she spoke, she turned and laid her head down on her arms on the back of her chair.  Bob darted across from the doorway and laid an awkwardly sympathetic young hand on the flaxen masses of his sister’s hair.

“It’s a shame!” he said, warmly.  “I wish I could stay and help you.  But I tell you what I’ll do.  I’ll be up the minute I get out of the office.  Leave the heavy things for me to do.  And don’t try to house-clean the whole flat just because of Mrs. Dorothy Chase.  She isn’t worth it.”

He was as good as his word.  Five o’clock in the afternoon saw him at home again, helping Sally in every way he could think of.  Bob was good help, and she had seldom needed him more than to-day.  She went about with flushed cheeks, moving languidly, yet keeping steadily at work with the determination of the young hostess who sees nothing else to do.