'How on earth did the man give it her, and where do you think she has got it?' demanded Amy when they were back in her bedroom. 'I don't know. I am afraid it is a very expensive suite; but it is no good worrying about it. It seems so dreadful that a girl of sixteen should have no one to look after her, no near relation, and no guardian, except yourself, and you are only a friend, after all, and have no authority over her. We must just be as friendly as we can to her, and try and win her confidence, and if she won't give it, wait until the man turns up for his money, which he will soon do if she does not pay up.' 'Then he will remove it, and that will disgrace us all!' cried Amy. 'No, indeed, he will not; I shall not allow anything of that kind,' declared Stella with decision. And then, though 'Eva's suite' was often in their minds, they dismissed the subject from their conversation, and started upon the putting in order of the new house. CHAPTER XVI. VAVA'S BUSINESS LETTER. Eva's presentiment was already a thing of the past, for she was the merriest of the four, and the day would not have been half such fun nor have passed so pleasantly and easily if she had not made a joke of all difficulties, and helped by her suggestions, which were very shrewd, in spite of their being mixed up with a great deal of nonsense. Mrs. Morrison had made the Misses Whartons' large bedroom habitable, and in a very short time it was pronounced quite comfortable for the present; so there really were only the hall and staircase to arrange, about which Eva had numerous theories, which she propounded sitting on the top stair in an apron made of newspapers. 'Leave half a yard at each end for moving the stair-carpet up and down every week,' she observed. 'That is a very good idea, if we have enough,' replied Amy. 'If not, you must put mats at the turnings of the stair; it's most important; also, you must put a pad on each step, then you feel as if you were sinking into velvet,' came from Eva, still sitting at her ease and surveying the workers. 'What kind of pad?' asked Stella, who with Amy was laying the stair-carpet. 'Velvet,' said Eva, absent-mindedly. 'What nonsense, Eva! What do you mean?' demanded Amy. Eva, who had been looking out of the staircase window, turned her head. 'I wasn't thinking of what I was saying--felt, I mean--or, failing that, folds of newspapers, and by so doing you double the life of your carpet,' she explained. 'Then, suppose you go and get that pile of newspapers that came from Scotland, and fold them into pads, instead of sitting there coolly and watching us work?' suggested her friend. 'I might, for a consideration,' agreed Eva, and help she did with such good-will that the house was quite comfortable by night.