Then they walked
forward a bit, stopped again, and finally came towards the house on a
run.
I advanced to meet them.
"Good morning, sisters," said I. The two were so much astonished that
they did not return my greeting, and for a few moments scarcely noticed
me. Then Sylvia turned.
"How in the world," she exclaimed, "did all this happen? It must be the
same house."
I smiled. "It is very simple," said I; "this"--and as I spoke I waved my
hand towards the cottage--"is an instance of the way in which the
brothers of the House of Martha intend to work."
"And you did this?" exclaimed Sylvia, with radiant eyes.
I explained to the eagerly listening sisters how the transformation had
been accomplished, and with a sort of reverent curiosity they approached
the house. Sister Agatha's astonishment was even greater than that of
Sylvia, for she had long known the wretched place.
"It is a veritable miracle," she said, "see this beautiful white fence,
and the gate; it opens on hinges!"
"Be careful," said I, as they entered the little yard, "some of the
paint may yet be wet, although I told them to put as much drying stuff
in as was possible."
"Actually," cried Sylvia, "a gravel walk up to the house!"
"And the outside a daffodil yellow, with fern green blinds!" said Sister
Agatha.
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