“But even then she’s more than you ought to carry up and down this ladder.”

Charlotte turned at the top of the stairs, and laughed back at her friend.  “Granny’s a sports-woman,” said she.  “She will—­whisper it!—­thoroughly enjoy sliding down these stairs, and, as for my carrying her up them, haven’t you yet found out that a weight you love devotedly is just no weight at all?  Now, look here!  Aren’t these bits of rooms fascinating?  Hot, just now, I admit—­” She ran to the windows, wrenched them open and propped them up.  “Too hot in July, certainly; we’ll camp downstairs while this weather lasts.  But fine and warm and sunny through the winter.  A bit of an oil-stove will make Granny as snug as a kitten, and her maid Charlotte will see that she’s never left alone with it burning.”

“I see you’re quite invincible in your determination to make the best of everything.  I can hardly believe you are the same girl I used to know, brought up to be waited on and petted by everybody.  You’ve developed splendidly, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Len.  No, I’m not the same girl at all.  I’ve been having to depend upon my own management for four years now—­long enough to learn a good many makeshifts.  It’s been rather a pull, but I’ve had Granny through it all, and as long as she’s left to me I won’t complain.  I used to be an extravagant person, but you’ve no idea how I’ve learned to make money last.  Don’t stay up here, it’s too hot for you.  But I’ll get the place in order, for it may be cooler by the time I bring Granny, so we can sleep here.”

“I’ll help.  What comes first?”

“Nothing—­for you.  I’ll run up and down with rugs and curtains,—­really, they’re about all there are to go up here, except Granny’s dressing-table.  I’ve saved that for her, and a little old single bed she likes.  I’ll have Tom bring them up.”

But Ellen insisted on helping, and when the bed was in place made it up with the fine old linen Charlotte produced, exclaiming over its handsome monograms, of an antique pattern much admired in these days.

“But where is your bed, Charlotte?  I want to get that ready, too,” she urged, when various small tasks were completed.

“Oh, never mind about mine.  I’ll see to that later.”  Charlotte was rubbing away at an old brass candlestick upon the dressing-table.

“I didn’t see another bed.  Surely you can’t both sleep in this?”

“Hardly—­poor Granny!  No; mine is a folding cot, the nicest thing!”

“And you’ve no furniture at all for your room?”

“Don’t want it.  Granny will let me peep in her mirror.  Don’t look so shocked, Len.  We’re just camping out for a year, you know, and I brought all we needed.  What’s the use of being encumbered with household goods?”

“But you have them, somewhere?  Let me send for them, dear, please.  If you are to stay all winter you must be comfortable.”