Most effectual assistance did she render in the way of unpacking and arranging.  More than that, one day, when Clover, rather to her own disgust, had been made to go with Polly and Amy to Denver while Katy stayed behind, lo! on her return, a transformation had taken place, and the ugly paper in the parlor of No. 13 was found replaced with one of warm, sunny gold-brown.

“Oh, why did you?” cried Clover.  “It’s only for a few months, and the other would have answered perfectly well.  Why did you, Katy?”

“I suppose it was foolish,” Katy admitted; “but somehow I couldn’t bear to have you sitting opposite that deplorable mustard-colored thing all winter long.  And really and truly it hardly cost anything.  It was a remnant reduced to ten cents a roll,—­the whole thing was less than four dollars.  You can call it your Christmas present from me, if you like, and I shall ‘play’ besides that the other paper had arsenic in it; I’m sure it looked as if it had, and corrosive sublimate, too.”

Clover laughed outright.  It was so funny to hear Katy’s fertility of excuse.

“You dear, ridiculous darling!” she said, giving her sister a good hug; “it was just like you, and though I scold I am perfectly delighted.  I did hate that paper with all my heart, and this is lovely.  It makes the room look like a different thing.”

Other benefactions followed.  Polly, it appeared, had bought more Indian curiosities in Denver than she knew what to do with, and begged permission to leave a big bear-skin and two wolf-skins with Clover for the winter, and a splendid striped Navajo blanket as a portiere to keep off draughts from the entry.  Katy had set herself up in California blankets while they were in San Francisco, and she now insisted on leaving a pair behind, and loaning Clover besides one of two beautiful Japanese silk pictures which Ned had given her, and which made a fine spot of color on the pretty new wall.  There were presents in her trunks for all at home, and Ned had sent Clover a beautiful lacquered box.

Somehow Clover seemed like a new and doubly-interesting Clover to Katy.  She was struck by the self-reliance which had grown upon her, by her bright ways and the capacity and judgment which all her arrangements exhibited; and she listened with delight to Mrs. Hope’s praises of her sister.

“She really is a wonderful little creature; so wise and judgmatical, and yet so pretty and full of fun.  People are quite cracked about her out here.  I don’t think you’ll ever get her back at the East again, Mrs. Worthington.  There seems a strong determination on the part of several persons to keep her here.”

“What do you mean?”

But Mrs. Hope, who believed in the old proverb about not addling eggs by meddling with them prematurely, refused to say another word.  Clover, when questioned, “could not imagine what Mrs. Hope meant;” and Katy had to go away with her curiosity unsatisfied.  Clarence came in once while she was there, but she did not see Mr. Templestowe.