"Seems so 'twould," she added, her eyes distrustfully bent on Margaret who had laughed, and by way of proving the carpet's durability, was dancing up and down upon it. The matter of choosing beds in the wide, airy chambers was a momentous one. In the boys' room, to be sure, it was a simple matter, for there were only two beds, and Tom settled the question at once by unceremoniously throwing Peter on to one of them, and pommeling him with the pillow until he howled for mercy. The girls had two rooms opening out of each other, and in each room were two dainty white beds. Here the matter of choosing was only settled amicably at last by a rigid system of "counting out" by "Eeny, meany, miny, mo"; and even this was not accomplished without much shouting and laughter, and not a few angry words. Margaret was distressed. For a time she was silent; then she threw herself into the discussion with all the ardor of one who would bring peace at any cost; and it was by her suggestion that the "Eeny, meany, miny, mo," finally won the day. In her own room that night, as she went to bed, she apologized to her mother. "I'm sorry they was so rude, mother. I had forgot they was quite so noisy," she confessed anxiously. "But I'll tell 'em to-morrow to be more quiet. Maybe they didn't know that little ladies and little gentlemen don't act like that." CHAPTER VII Five oaks awoke to a new existence on the first morning after the arrival of its guests from New York--an existence of wild shouts, gleeful laughter, scampering feet and confusion. In the kitchen and the garden old Mr. and Mrs. Barrett no longer held full sway. For some time there had been a cook, a waitress, a laundress, and an experienced gardener as well. In the barn, too, there was now a stalwart fellow who was coachman and chauffeur by turns, according to whether the old family carriage or the new four-cylinder touring car was wanted. Tom, Peter, Mary, Patty, and the twins had not been at Five Oaks twenty-four hours before they were fitted to new clothing throughout. Mrs. Kendall had not slept until she had interviewed the town clothier as to ways and means of immediately providing two boys and four girls with shoes, stockings, hats, coats, trousers, dresses, and undergarments. "'Course 'tain't 'zactly necessary," Patty had said, upon being presented with her share of the new garments, "but it's awful nice, 'cause now we don't have ter go ter bed when ours is washed--an' they be awful nice! Just bang-up!"