It seemed as if nine o’clock would never come, and Jill, with wraps all ready, lay waiting in a fever of impatience for the doctor’s visit, as he wished to superintend the moving. At last he came, found all promising, and having bundled up his small patient, carried her, with Frank’s help, in her chair-bed to the ox-sled, which was drawn to the next door, and Miss Jill landed in the Boys’ Den before she had time to get either cold or tired. Mrs. Minot took her things off with a cordial welcome, but Jill never said a word, for, after one exclamation, she lay staring about her, dumb with surprise and delight at what she saw.
The great room was entirely changed; for now it looked like a garden, or one of the fairy scenes children love, where in-doors and out-of-doors are pleasantly combined. The ceiling was pale blue, like the sky; the walls were covered with a paper like a rustic trellis, up which climbed morning-glories so naturally that the many-colored bells seemed dancing in the wind. Birds and butterflies flew among them, and here and there, through arches in the trellis, one seemed to look into a sunny summer world, contrasting curiously with the wintry landscape lying beyond the real windows, festooned with evergreen garlands, and curtained only by stands of living flowers. A green drugget covered the floor like grass, rustic chairs from the garden stood about, and in the middle of the room a handsome hemlock waited for its pretty burden. A Yule-log blazed on the wide hearth, and over the chimney-piece, framed in holly, shone the words that set all hearts to dancing, “Merry Christmas!”
“Do you like it, dear? This is our surprise for you and Jack, and here we mean to have good times together,” said Mrs. Minot, who had stood quietly enjoying the effect of her work.
“Oh, it is so lovely I don’t know what to say!” and Jill put up both arms, as words failed her, and grateful kisses were all she had to offer.
“Can you suggest anything more to add to the pleasantness?” asked the gentle lady, holding the small hands in her own, and feeling well repaid by the child’s delight.
“Only Jack;” and Jill’s laugh was good to hear, as she glanced up with merry, yet wistful eyes.
“You are right. We’ll have him in at once, or he will come hopping on one leg;” and away hurried his mother, laughing, too, for whistles, shouts, thumps, and violent demonstrations of all kinds had been heard from the room where Jack was raging with impatience, while he waited for his share of the surprise.
Jill could hardly lie still when she heard the roll of another chair-bed coming down the hall, its passage enlivened with cries of “Starboard! Port! Easy now! Pull away!” from Ralph and Frank, as they steered the recumbent Columbus on his first voyage of discovery.
“Well, I call that handsome!” was Jack’s exclamation, when the full beauty of the scene burst upon his view. Then he forgot all about it and gave a whoop of pleasure, for there beside the fire was an eager face, two hands beckoning, and Jill’s voice crying, joyfully,—