"It all came about through Sarah wanting to wheel me over through Macdougal Street to-day and down Spring Street, because she had an important errand there. You know we never go through Macdougal Street, because it's so narrow and not nearly as nice and clean and sunny as our own and Varick Street. I actually don't think I've been over that way for three or four years! Well, just as we were passing a house between this block and Van Dam, I looked up at it, and what do you think I saw?—the brass sign near the front door—"Richmond Hill House"! I couldn't imagine for a moment what it meant. But I asked Sarah if she knew what the place was, and she said it was a settlement-house, with a day-nursery and clubs for the children and things like that in it.
"I asked why it was called that name, and she said she didn't know—thought it was a silly one and didn't mean anything. But I knew—though I didn't say so! Somebody who knows about history has called it that because it stands almost on the grounds where Richmond Hill used to be. But oh, girls! think how much trouble and wondering and hunting it would have saved us, if we'd only known about that house at first! It would have suggested the thing to us right away!"
"Huh!" remarked Alexander, disgustedly. "I knew about that old joint right along—ever since I lived here! I could have told you a thing or two, if you'd only consulted yours truly sooner!"
"Well, never mind!" said Corinne, soothingly. "Maybe we did get at things in a roundabout, clumsy fashion; but we got there, just the same, and we had a good time doing it, too! But now I've something brand-new to say, and I want you all to listen very attentively. This is a matter that needs a lot of careful consideration. We've about come to the end of our rope, as far as making any further progress with this mystery is concerned. We've been having a lot of fun and entertainment out of it, of course, with these stories of our own, and all that sort of thing. But we're not 'getting any forrarder,' as Dickens says; and do you know, I'm beginning to think that perhaps we're not doing just right in keeping this all to ourselves!"
Here Margaret started and gave her a reproachful look. Corinne put an arm over the invalid girl's shoulder and continued:
"Honey dear, I know you think I'm playing the traitor, and trying to spoil our delightful secret society, but I'm really not; and if you'll hear me to the end, I believe you'll feel the same as I do. I've been doing a lot of hard thinking about this matter lately. Perhaps you haven't realized it, but I am certain that this old journal we've found is really a very valuable thing—not only valuable in the way of money (for many people would pay a great deal for a genuine old document like this), but also in the way of historical information. We're keeping to ourselves something that might really throw light on the past history of our city.
"Now, of course, I'm not certain about this, but I'd like to have the opinion of some grown person who really knows. And I've thought of a plan by which we could do this, and at the same time keep our secret society almost the same as it is now. It's this: I would like you all—and especially Margaret—to consent to my telling my father all about this, and, if he is willing (and I'm certain he will be), we can let him become a member of our Antiquarian Club. In that way, you see, we won't be breaking up our society—we will just be adding another member!"
"But he's a grown person!" objected Margaret, trying hard to keep the tears from rising. "And he wouldn't care a bit about a thing like this! And we'd feel so strange and—and awkward to have an older person in it!"
"Oh, but you don't know my father!" laughed Corinne. "To be sure, he's a grown person, but I never met any one who was more like a boy in his manner and interests and sympathies! Why, he's actually more boyish than lots of the young fellows in high school. He is deeply interested in young folks and their affairs; and if he weren't such an awfully busy man, he'd spend most of his time being with them. He and I are such chums! You ought to see us together when he's away on a vacation! He romps around with me as though he were only sixteen, and everything that interests me just absorbs him too. I believe you've thought, because I said he loved books and history and old things, that he's a regular old fogey that goes around stoop-shouldered and spectacled! He isn't a bit like that!"
"I got you, Steve!" ejaculated Alexander. "He must be some good sport! I vote we ring him in on this!"