‘Shut your eyes, Biddy,’ said Rough.  ’I’ll lead you in, and mind you don’t open them till I tell you.’

There stood Biddy, as quiet as a mouse, though her heart was beating fast, till, after one or two whispered directions—­’That isn’t quite straight,’ ‘Put the chairs by the fire, Celestina,’ and so on—­came Rough’s voice—­

‘Now, Biddy.  Open your eyes.’

[Illustration:  ‘Now, Biddy.  Open your eyes.’  P. 195.]

And ‘open her eyes’ she did, though she half shut them again the next minute, and then had to rub them to make sure they were not tricking her.  For there in front of her, on the schoolroom table, stood, its two big doors flung wide open, the very nicest, most complete doll-house that, in those days at least, could have been imagined.  There were six good-sized rooms:  drawing-room, dining-room, two bedrooms, nursery, and kitchen—­the last, perhaps, the most fascinating of all, with its little kitchen-range, its rows of brightly shining pots and pans, some black, some tin, and some copper; its dresser and shelves, and charming dinner service, and ever so many other things it would take me a very long time to describe.  And the dining-room, with its brown and gold papered walls, and red velvet carpet and little stuffed chairs; and the drawing-room, with sofas covered in dainty chintz and blue carpet and gilt-framed mirrors; and the bedrooms, one white and one pink; and the nursery, with the sweet little cradle and rocking-chair and baths and wash-hand stands and I don’t know all what—­truly it was a very pretty sight.  Biddy gasped; she could not speak.

‘And only think, Biddy,’ said Rosalys; ’it is our own old doll-house done up.  The one mamma had herself when she was a little girl, you know.  Doesn’t that make it all the nicer?  You can’t think how we’ve all worked at it.  We’d begun it before—­before papa and you got ill; that was our secret that Celestina and I were always whispering about.’

And in her delight even staid Alie gave two or three jumps up into the air!  But as she came down again she felt herself caught round the neck and hugged and squeezed.  Oh, how she was hugged and squeezed!

And ‘Oh, Alie,’ whispered Biddy, ’you are too good to me; for you don’t know how naughty I felt about your having a secret.’

’Never mind, never mind.  I daresay it was my fault.  Mamma says it’s very teasing to talk about secrets, but it’s all right now, and we are all going to be so happy with the doll-house, aren’t we?  Now you must kiss Celestina too; you don’t know what a lot she’s done.  She hemmed the sheets of the beds and the table-cloths and ever so many things, and her mamma dressed the dolls—­and—­oh yes, Roughie papered nearly all the rooms, and——­’