It was after six o’clock and the Curtis home was brilliantly lighted. The window blinds were all closed. But there was a curious rapping and scratching at one of the windows that opened into a small side yard.
“It may be one of the servants,” suggested Miss Jenny Ann, listening intently.
“It can’t be,” rejoined Madge. “No one of them would make such a strange noise.”
“I think I had better call Tom,” breathed Eleanor faintly. “It must be a burglar trying to steal Madeleine’s wedding gifts.”
Madge shook her head. “Wait, please,” she whispered. She ran to the window. There was the faint scratching noise again! Madge lifted the shade quickly. Perched on the window sill was the oddest figure that ever stepped out of the pages of a fairy book. It was impossible to see just what it was, yet it looked like a little girl. One hand clung to the window facing, a small nose pressed against the pane.
“Why, it’s a child!” exclaimed Miss Jenny Ann in tones of relief. “Open the window and let her come in.”
Madge flung open the window. Light as a thistledown, the unexpected little visitor landed in the center of the room.
Madge and Eleanor had completely forgotten the elfin child they had met in the slums of New York City; but now she appeared among them just as mysteriously as though she were the fairy she pretended to be.
She wore a small red coat that was half a dozen sizes too tiny for her. Her skirt was patched with odds and ends of bright flowered materials. On her head perched a cap, a scarlet flower, cut from an odd scrap of old wall paper. In her hands Tania clasped a ridiculous bundle, done up in a dirty handkerchief.
“You strange little witch!” exclaimed Madge. “However did you find your way here? Be very still and good until the lovely lady who owns this house sees you, then I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she gave you some cake and ice cream before she sends you away.”