Part 12 (2/2)

Billie was in a fever of excitement even before the stream of people began to pour from the train, and when she saw Connie she made a wild dash for her that very nearly bowled over a couple of unfortunate men who were in the path.

”You darling!” cried Billie, hugging her friend rapturously. ”Now I know it's all true. I was just scared to death for fear something would happen and you couldn't get here.”

Poor Chet tried his best to edge his way in and speak a word to Connie on his own account--for Chet liked Connie Danvers very much--but he could not do any more than shake hands with her over Billie's shoulder and mumble one or two words which neither of the girls understood.

”They won't speak to you,” he grumbled to himself as he brought up the rear with Connie's suitcase and a hat box, ”and the only time they know you're alive is when they want a baggage truck or something. Catch me ever coming to meet one of Billie's friends again.”

He was relieved when Vi and Laura came running up all flushed with their hurry to ”spill over Connie” some more, as Chet disgustedly put it and he had a chance to slip down a side street and ”beat it” for home.

None of the girls even noticed that Chet had gone; a fact which, had he known it, would have made the boy still more disgusted with girls and everything about them.

”Connie, you do look sweet,” Vi cried, as they all four tried to walk abreast along a sidewalk that was not very wide--the result being that Laura, who was on the end, walked half the time on the curb and the rest of the time in the gutter. ”Is that a new hat? And, oh, I know you've got a new dress!”

”Well I'm not the only one who looks nice,” said Connie, who, in spite of her prettiness, was very modest.

”Oh, we are a mess,” said Laura, balancing nicely between the curb and the gutter. ”We've got on our oldest dresses because everything we own is packed except the things we're going to wear to-morrow.”

”To-morrow!” That was the magic word that unlocked the gates and let through a flood of conversation consisting of excited questions and answers and joyful exclamations that lasted until they reached Billie's house.

Billie asked Laura and Vi in, but they reluctantly refused, saying that their mothers had expressly ordered them to be home that day in time for dinner.

”We can't come over to-night,” Vi called back to them, as she and Laura started on arm in arm. ”Mother says I have to get to bed early.”

”But we'll see you the first thing in the morning,” added Laura. ”The very first thing, remember that!”

”I'll say so,” Billie sang back gayly, and then led her guest up the porch steps and into the house, where her mother was waiting to receive them. Mrs. Bradley and Connie fell in love with each other at first sight--which was the last thing needed to make Billie absolutely happy.

They went to bed early that night, the two girls snuggled in Billie's pretty bird's-eye maple bed in Billie's pretty bird's-eye maple room.

They went to bed, but neither of the girls had either the desire or the intention of going to sleep. They felt as if they never wanted to go to sleep again.

And so they talked. They talked of the next day and the vacation before them until they could not think of another thing to say about it.

Then they talked of the things that had happened at Three Towers Hall--of the ”Dill Pickles” and of Amanda Peabody and Eliza Dilks. And last, but not least, they talked in hushed tones of the mysterious little hut in the woods and the strange man who lived there and wove fern baskets and other things for a living.

By the time they had reached Miss Arbuckle and the finding of her alb.u.m in the woods they were feeling delightfully thrilly and farther away from sleep than ever.

”It really must be a mystery,” Connie was saying, snuggling deeper into the covers and staring at Billie's pretty face and tousled hair weirdly illumined by the pale moonlight that sifted through the window, when there came a tap on the door. And right upon the tap came Mrs. Bradley, wearing a loose robe that made her look mysteriously lovely in the dim light. She sat down on the edge of the bed and regarded the girls smilingly.

”It's twelve o'clock,” she said, and they stared at her unbelievingly.

”Twelve o'clock,” she repeated relentlessly, ”and time for girls who have to be up early in the morning to be asleep.”

”But we're not sleepy,” protested Billie.

”Not a bit,” added Connie.

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