“I don’t see how Amy could have done it,” the Colonel said to himself when the dray disappeared from view, and then becoming conscious of the pain in his foot, he dragged himself back to his chair, and ringing for Peter, said to him:  “I think I’ll lie down a spell,—­and, bring me a hot-water bag, I’m pretty cold, and my foot just jumps; and, Peter, go to-day and buy those things as if they were for yourself.  You mustn’t lie, of course,—­but get ’em somehow, and bring them here to this big closet.  The chances are when Mrs. Amy comes to her senses she’ll want ’em, and raise Ned, as she used to.  I’d give a good deal to see her in a tantrum.  I’d rather have her that way than passive, as she is now.  Will nothing ever rouse her out of her apathy?  Curse that Homer Smith!”

He was talking to himself rather than to Peter, who got him on to the lounge, adjusted the cushions, brought a hot-water bag, covered him up, and then left him, saying, “Don’t fret, I’ll go this afternoon and get Judy and Mandy Ann by fair means or foul.”

“All right,” the Colonel said drowsily.  “Fair means or foul, but don’t lie, and don’t let them think they are for me. You want them, and must get them, fair means or foul.  You know where my purse is.  Hold your tongue, and go!”

CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST SALE

Order was being brought out of chaos in the Rummage rooms, where twenty ladies were working industriously, sorting, pricing, and marking the multitudinous articles heaped upon the counters.  Not only District No. 5, but the village had emptied itself, glad to be rid of the accumulations of years.  Nearly every room was occupied, and the committees were showing great skill in assigning things to the different departments.  The antiques had a niche by themselves; the quill wheel, the warming-pan, the foot-stove, the brass kettle with Peter’s boot-jack, and many more articles of a similar character were placed together.  Jack’s sister had responded quickly, and a large box had arrived with articles curious and new, which elicited cries of delight from the ladies in charge, who marked them at a ridiculously low price, less even, in some instances, than had been paid for them, and labelled their corner “The New York Store.”

Scarcely was this completed when the drayman arrived from Crompton Place with the doll house and the two trunks, the last of which were pounced upon first, as Ruby Ann had reported what was in them.  Her description, however, had fallen far short of the reality, and the ladies held their breath, as one after another of the beautiful gowns was taken out for exhibition.  Few had ever seen anything just like them.  Homer Smith had prided himself upon being a connoisseur in ladies’ costumes and had directed all of Amy’s, taking care that there was no sham about them.  Everything was real, from the fabric itself to the lace which trimmed it,