It had taken much argument and figuring on paper before the consent of both was won, but Cousin Roxy approved of the scheme highly.

“Land alive, Elizabeth Ann,” she exclaimed, heartily, “don’t crush anything that looks like budding initiative in your girls.  I’d let them put tents all over the place until it blossomed like the wilderness.  There’s a stack of old furniture up in the garret at Maple Lawn and over at Elmhurst, too, and they’re welcome to it.  Get some pots of paint in and go to work, girls.”

Kit acted immediately on the suggestion and drove up with Shad to look over the collection of discarded antiques in the two garrets.  What she liked best of all were the three-drawer, old-fashioned chests and hand-made wooden chairs.  There were ewer stands also, and several old single slat bedsteads.

“We’re going to paint them all over, mother dear, in the loveliest yellows and grays, and Shad says that it won’t be any trick at all for him to build the floors for us, and he says he can fix up little hanging-cupboards like they have in the tea-rooms, don’t you know, to hold a few plates and dishes for light housekeeping.”

“I don’t see what else we’re going to need,” Helen put in, thoughtfully, “except the finishing touches, and I can add those.  They’ll need some jars for wild flowers and cushions and little things like that.”

“Well, don’t forget that they’ll have to eat some time,” Cousin Roxy remarked.  “Get some two-burner oil stoves and folding tables and camp chairs, or if you want to be real rustic and quaint, have Shad here knock some white birch ones together, and probably the city folks will admire them more than anything you could buy.  Lay in a stock of candles and bracket lamps.  I’d make them bring up their own bedding if I were you, ’cause that would be the only nuisance you’d have to contend with.”

“It’s too bad,” Kit said, reflectively, “that we’re so far away from any kind of stores.  I’m planning on eight tents all together, and there’ll be ever so many things people will want to buy.  Do you suppose, mother, that Mr. Peckham would let Sally manage anything like that up here?  She’s just dying to do something besides housework all her life.”

“But where would you put her, dear?”

“Put her in another tent, if we couldn’t do anything else, but I’ll bet a cookie the boys down there at the mill could throw together a perfectly dandy little slab shack with birch trimmings.  They could either have it down by the mill or put it right here at the crossroads.  Sally could put in all kinds of supplies, kodaks and phonographs and post-cards and candy.”

“Better put in a few canned goods, too, and staples,” added Cousin Roxy.  “I declare, I’d kind of like to have a hand in that myself.  I’d put Cynthy to work right away at home bakery goods.  Kit, I do believe, child, you’ve started something that may waken Gilead out of its Rip Van Winkle slumber.”