It was Aunt Emma, too, who had aired all the sheets ready; and the
men who had moved the furniture had put the bedsteads together, so
the beds were soon made.

"Good night, chickies," said Mother. "I'm sure there aren't any
rats. But I'll leave my door open, and then if a mouse comes, you
need only scream, and I'll come and tell it exactly what I think of
it."

Then she went to her own room. Roberta woke to hear the little
travelling clock chime two. It sounded like a church clock ever so
far away, she always thought. And she heard, too, Mother still
moving about in her room.

Next morning Roberta woke Phyllis by pulling her hair gently, but
quite enough for her purpose.

"Wassermarrer?" asked Phyllis, still almost wholly asleep.

"Wake up! wake up!" said Roberta. "We're in the new house--don't
you remember? No servants or anything. Let's get up and begin to
be useful. We'll just creep down mouse-quietly, and have everything
beautiful before Mother gets up. I've woke Peter. He'll be dressed
as soon as we are."

So they dressed quietly and quickly. Of course, there was no water
in their room, so when they got down they washed as much as they
thought was necessary under the spout of the pump in the yard. One
pumped and the other washed. It was splashy but interesting.