Through the paneless windows came the warm spring air,
full of the odor of tender growing things and the wholesome smell of the
freshly upturned earth.
"Randolph Bartlett, come up here this instant!" called Mrs. Ranny. "It's
the loveliest thing you ever saw!"
But Mr. Ranny was eagerly examining the remains of a somewhat extensive
chicken farm.
"Go down and show him around," Eleanor advised Quin, with a glimmer of
hope. "Aunt Flo and I will explore the rest of the house."
They not only explored, but in their imagination they remodeled it.
Eleanor, in spite of her daydreams, was a very practical little person,
and, with her power of visualizing a scene for others as well as for
herself, she soon made Mrs. Ranny see the place painted and clean, with
rag rugs on the floors, quaint old mahogany furniture, tall brass
candlesticks on the mantel, and gay chintz curtains at the windows.
Mrs. Ranny grew quite animated talking about it, and forgot the
disturbing fact that she had not had a cigarette since dinner.
"Do you know," she said to Eleanor, as they came back to the window and
looked down at the two men talking and gesticulating eagerly in the
garden below, "I believe if Ranny had something like this to work with
and play with, things would be different.
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