On the very day that Mr. Cordyce received word that it was finished, he suggested the drive.

 

"Do you live all alone, Grandfather?" asked Benny.

 

"All alone," answered Mr. Cordyce. "No company at all." At first Benny did not consider this the exact truth. He considered a cook company, and also a butler, and a housekeeper². And when he saw the array of maids he kept perfectly³ quiet. The house was enormous, certainly. It was at least a quarter of a mile from its own front gate—and everywhere were gardens.

 

"Do you live here?" said Henry, thunderstruck, as they rolled quietly along the beautiful drive.

 

"You do, too, if you like it," observed his grandfather, watching his face.

 

The inside of the house was more wonderful than even the older children had ever dreamed. The velvet⁴ rugs were so thick and soft that no footfall could be heard. Everywhere were flowers. The great stairway with steps of marble rose from the center of the big hallway. But it was upstairs that the children felt most at home.

 

Here the rooms were not quite so large. They were sunny and homelike.

 

"This is Violet's room!" cried Benny. It was unmistakable. There were violets on the wallpaper. The bed was snow white with a thick quilt of violet silk. On the little table were English violets, pouring their fragrance⁵ into the room.

 

"What a beautiful room!" sighed Violet, sinking down into one of the soft cushioned chairs.

 

But all the children shouted when they saw Benny's room. The wallpaper was blue, covered with large figures of cats and dogs, the Three Bears, and Peter Rabbit. There was a swinging rocking-horse, nearly as large as a real horse, a blackboard, a tool chest, and low tables and chairs exactly the right size for Benny. There was an electric train with cars nearly as large as the little boy himself.

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