the shelf.  But it was the things on the shelf that attracted Marjorie’s attention.  One side of the room was devoted to books, and Marjorie quickly recognized many of her old favorites, and many new ones.  On another side of the room the shelf was filled with flowers, some blooming gayly in pots, and some cut blossoms in vases of water.  On a third side of the room the shelf held birds, and this sight nearly took Marjorie’s breath away.  Some were in gilt cages, a canary, a goldfinch, and another bird whose name Marjorie did not know.  And some were stuffed birds of brilliant plumage, and mounted in most natural positions on twigs or branches, or perched upon an ivy vine which was trained along the wall.  The fourth side was almost empty, and Marjorie knew at once that it was left so in order that she might have a place for such treasured belongings as she had brought with her.

“Well!” she exclaimed, although there was no one there to hear her.  “Well, if this isn’t the best ever!” She stood in the middle of the room, and turned slowly round and round, taking in by degrees the furnishings and adornment.  All of the furniture was new, and the brass bed and dainty dressing-table seemed to Marjorie quite fit for any princess.

“Well!” she exclaimed again, and as she turned around this time she saw the older people watching her from the hall.

“Oh, Grandma Sherwood!” she cried, and running to the old lady, proceeded to hug her in a way that was more affectionate than comfortable.

“Do you like it?” asked Grandma, when she could catch her breath.

“Like it!  It’s the most beautiful, loveliest, sweetest room in the whole world!  I love it!  Did you do it all for me, Grandma?”

“Yes, Midget; that is, I fixed up the room, but for the shelf you must thank Uncle Steve.  That is his idea entirely, and he superintended its putting up.  You’re to use it this year, and next year Kitty can have her dolls and toys on it, and then the year after, King can use it for his fishing-tackle and boyish traps.  Though I suppose by that time Rosamond will be old enough to take her turn.”

“Then I can’t come again for four years,” exclaimed Marjorie, with an expression of consternation on her face.

“Not unless you come two at a time,” said Grandma; “and I doubt if your mother would consent to that.”

“No, indeed,” said Mrs. Maynard; “it’s hard enough to lose one of the flock, without losing two.”

“Well, I’ll have a good time with it this summer, anyway,” said Marjorie; “can’t we unpack my trunk now, Mother, so I can put my pearl pen in my desk; and my clock, that Rosy Posy gave me, on the shelf; and hang up my bird picture on the wall?”

“Not just now,” said her mother, “for it is nearly supper time, and you must transform yourself from a wild maid of the woods into a decorous little lady.”

The transformation was accomplished, and it was not very long before a very neat and tidy Marjorie walked sedately downstairs to the dining-room.  Her white dress was immaculate; a big white bow held the dark curls in place, and only the dancing eyes betrayed the fact that it was an effort to behave so demurely.