“I know just how I’m going to fix this room up for you, Petronilla,” Billy said, nodding his head mysteriously. “Now let’s go into the kitchen.” The kitchen led from the living-room. Billy exclaimed when he saw it and Maida shook her hands, but it was Granny who actually screamed with delight. Much bigger than the living-room, it had four windows with sunshine pouring in through every one of them. But it was not the four windows nor yet the sunshine that made the sensation—it was the stone floor. “We’ll put a carpet on it if you think it’s too cold, Granny,” Billy suggested immediately. “Oh, lave it be, Misther Billy,” Granny begged. “’Tis loike me ould home in Oireland. Sure ’tis homesick Oi am this very minut looking at ut.” “All right,” Billy agreed cheerfully. “What you say goes, Granny. Now upstairs to the sleeping-rooms.” To get to the second floor they climbed a little stairway not more than three feet wide, with steps very high, most of them triangular in shape because the stairway had to turn so often. And upstairs—after they got there—consisted of three rooms, two big and square and light, and one smaller and darker. “The small room is to be made into a bathroom,” Billy explained, “and these two big ones are to be your bedrooms. Which one will you have, Maida?” Maida examined both rooms carefully. “Well, I don’t care for myself which I have,” she said. “But it does seem as if there were a teeny-weeny more sun in this one. I think Granny ought to have it, for she loves the sunshine on her old bones. You know, Billy, Granny and I have the greatest fun about our bones. Hers are all wrong because they’re so old, and mine are all wrong because they’re so young.” “All right,” Billy agreed. “Sunshiny one for Granny, shady one for you. That’s settled! I hope you realize, Miss Maida, Elizabeth, Fairfax, Petronilla, Pinkwink, Posie Westabrook what perfectly bully rooms these are! They’re as old as Noah.” “I’m glad they’re old,” Maida said. “But of course they must be. This house was here when Dr. Pierce was a little boy. And that must have been a long, long, long time ago.” “Just look at the floors,” Billy went on admiringly. “See how uneven they are. You’ll have to walk straight here, Petronilla, to keep from falling down. That old wooden wainscoting is simply charming. That’s a nice old fireplace too. And these old doors are perfect.” Granny Flynn was working the latch of one of the old doors with her wrinkled hands. “Manny’s the toime Oi’ve snibbed a latch loike that in Oireland,” she said, and she smiled so hard that her very wrinkles seemed to twinkle. “And look at the windows, Granny,” Billy said. “Sixteen panes of glass each. I hope you’ll make Petronilla wash them.” “Oh, Granny, will you let me wash the windows?” Maida asked ecstatically. “When you’re grand and sthrong,” Granny promised. “I know just how I’ll furnish the room,” Billy said half to himself. “Oh, Billy, tell me!” Maida begged.