“Now come upstairs,” suggested Elsie, when Clover had warmed her feet, and the flowers had been admired, and everybody had said ten times over how nice it was to have the girls back, and the girls had replied that it was just as nice to come back.

So they all went upstairs, Elsie leading the way.

“Where are you going?” cried Katy:  “that’s the Blue Room.”  But Elsie did not pause.

“You see,” she explained, with the door-knob in her hand, “papa and I thought you ought to have a bigger room now, because you are grown-up young ladies!  So we have fixed this for you, and your old one is going to be the spare room instead.”  Then she threw the door open, and led the girls in.

“See, Katy,” she said, “this is your bureau, and this is Clover’s.  And look what nice drawers papa has had put in the closet,—­two for you, and two for her.  Aren’t they convenient?  Don’t you like it?  And isn’t it a great deal pleasanter than the old room?”

“Oh, a great deal,” cried the girls.  “It is delightful, every thing about it.”  All Katy’s old treasures had been transferred from her old quarters to this.  There was her cushioned chair, her table, her book-shelf, the pictures from the walls.  There were some new things too, —­a blue carpet, blue paper on the walls, window curtains of fresh chintz; and Elsie had made a tasteful pin-cushion for each bureau, and Johnnie crocheted mats for the wash-stand.  Altogether, it was as pretty a bower as two sisters just grown into ladies could desire.

“What are those lovely things hanging on either side of the bed?” asked Clover.

They were two illuminated texts, sent as a “welcome home,” by Cousin Helen.  One was a morning text, and other an evening text, Elsie explained.  The evening text, which bore the words, “I will lay me down to sleep, and take my rest, for it is thou, Lord, only who makest me dwell in safety,” was painted in soft purples and grays, and among the poppies and silver lilies which wreathed it appeared a cunning little downy bird, fast asleep, with his head under his wing.  The morning text, “When I awake, I am still with Thee,” was in bright colors, scarlet and blue and gold, and had a frame of rose garlands and wide-awake-looking butterflies and humming-birds.  The girls thought they had never seen any thing so pretty.

Such a gay supper as they had that night!  Katy would not take her old place at the tea-tray.  She wanted to know how Elsie looked as housekeeper, she said.  So she sat on one side of papa, and Clover on the other, and Elsie poured the tea, with a mixture of delight and dignity which was worth seeing.

“I’ll begin to-morrow,” said Katy.

And with that morrow, when she came out of her pretty room and took her place once more as manager of the household, her grown-up life may be said to have begun.  So it is time that I should cease to write about her.  Grown-up lives may be very interesting, but they have no rightful place in a child’s book.  If little girls will forget to be little, and take it upon them to become young ladies, they must bear the consequences, one of which is, that we can follow their fortunes no longer.