CHAPTER II.

A new year and A new plan.

When summer lingers on into October, it often seems as if winter, anxious to catch a glimpse of her, hurries a little; and so people are cheated out of their autumn.  It was so that year.  Almost as soon as it ceased to be hot it began to be cold.  The leaves, instead of drifting away in soft, dying colors, like sunset clouds, turned yellow all at once; and were whirled off the trees in a single gusty night, leaving every thing bare and desolate.  Thanksgiving came; and before the smell of the turkey was fairly out of the house, it was time to hang up stockings and dress the Christmas tree.  They had a tree that year in honor of Katy’s being downstairs.  Cecy, who had gone away to boarding-school, came home; and it was all delightful, except that the days flew too fast.  Clover said it seemed to her very queer that there was so much less time than usual in the world.  She couldn’t imagine what had become of it:  there used to be plenty.  And she was certain that Dorry must have been tinkering all the clocks,—­they struck so often.

It was just after New Year that Dr. Carr walked in one day with a letter in his hand, and remarked:  “Mr. and Mrs. Page are coming to stay with us.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Page,” repeated Katy; “who are they, papa?  Did I ever see them?”

“Once, when you were four years old, and Elsie a baby.  Of chouse you don’t remember it.”

“But who are they, papa?”

“Mrs. Page was your dear mother’s second cousin; and at one time she lived in your grandfather’s family, and was like a sister to mamma and Uncle Charles.  It is a good many years since I have seen her.  Mr. Page is a railroad engineer.  He is coming this way on business, and they will stop for a few days with us.  Your Cousin Olivia writes that she is anxious to see all you children.  Have every thing as nice as you can, Katy.”

“Of course, I will.  What day are the coming?”

“Thursday,—­no, Friday,” replied Dr. Carr, consulting the letter, “Friday evening, at half-past six.  Order something substantial for tea that night, Katy.  They’ll be hungry after traveling.”

Katy worked with a will for the next two days.  Twenty times, at least, she went into the blue room to make sure that nothing was forgotten; repeating, as if it had been a lesson in geography:  “Bath towels, face towels, matches, soap, candles, cologne, extra blanket, ink.”  A nice little fire was lighted in the bedroom on Friday afternoon, and a big, beautiful one in the parlor, which looked very pleasant with the lamp lit and Clover’s geraniums and china roses in the window.  The tea-table was set with the best linen and the pink-and-white china.  Debby’s muffins were very light.  The crab-apple jelly came out of its mould clear and whole, and the cold chicken looked appetizing,