John went up, expecting a hoax, but yet reassured by the earnestness of Hugh's tone. "Look here," exclaimed a voice from the depths of a small attic where only a few boxes were kept, "if you don't think I've lighted on a splendid plan. Here's a room for you all ready, and we've nothing to do but carry up the bed, and there you are." By this time John stood in the low doorway of the little room, and looked round. His mind quickly placed a little furniture round it, and hung his pictures and text on its bare walls, and in a few moments it became his own little room, full of his own things. "Or I could have it," broke in Hugh's voice. "Oh, no," answered John hastily, "I should like it very much. But what will Agnes say?" "_She_ won't mind so long as we do no mischief. Let's surprise her." John looked dubious. "It can't be any harm," said Hugh. "I'll just go and tell her," answered John. He ran down. "Where's Agnes?" he asked of Alice, who was still reading. "In next door," said Alice, "at least she was, but I believe I saw her go along with grandmama just now." "When will she be home?" "I don't know." "I say, Alice, you'll make yourself ill so near the fire. Where's Minnie?" "She went in after Agnes." John withdrew, and returned to Hugh. "She's out, Hugh," he said. "That's all right then. We'll have a jolly time, and get it done to surprise her." "But what about your grand heap?" "Stuff them in again; they can't be worse than they were." "I wonder if we ought to sort them out first?" said John, considering. "I'm not going to; that would be no fun at all." John yielded for a moment, then he paused. "Hugh, Agnes would be right down vexed with us, and we should deserve it. I won't do a stroke till we've cleared this." Hugh made a face; but when John's voice took _that_ tone it was of no use objecting, so they sorted out and put up as quickly as they could, Hugh privately shirking any idea of thoroughness, till about twelve o'clock order once more reigned, and the boys' spirits began to rise. "I say," remarked John, surveying his new domain, "I wish I'd asked Jane to clean this while we were putting up, it looks mighty dusty and queer." "Well, we can't now," said Hugh. "No, I daresay it would take ages." "I can sweep it," said Hugh; "but that would be a hindrance; let's get in the things and they'll cover up the dirt." "Nice that!" remarked John; "but as it is not _your_ room it won't matter." "No," assented Hugh; "and if it were, I should not care particularly. Now, John, what is the first thing to do?" "Bring up the chest of drawers." "That's my chest of drawers. You don't mean to say----" "Well, what am I to do?" said John, pausing in this first difficulty; "you can't suppose I can go without a chest of drawers." "No; I don't see that you can; but, then, no more can I." "That's unanswerable; but as there's only one, what's to be done?" "_I_ can have it," answered Hugh slyly; "it belongs to my room!"