It was just where she had left it. Nobody was in sight. She gazed again over the lovely, serene landscape, and, taking the suitcase, she went, singing, up-stairs.
The guest-room was easily recognized and Betty felt at liberty to appropriate it for her own use. She was an invited guest, and if no hostess or servant was present to conduct her to her room, she must look after her own rights.
“I’m just like Robinson Crusoe,” she chuckled to herself. “I’m stranded on a desert island, with not a human being near. But, luckily, there’s food in the pantry, for really, with all these exciting experiences, I’m getting hungry.”
She opened her suitcase and shook out her pretty dresses. Then she changed her traveling-frock for the light organdie, and having bathed, and brushed her hair, she felt rather better.
“Well, it’s nearly noon,” she said, looking at her watch, “and, as I’ve no one to consult but myself, I may as well have an early luncheon. If the Careys come in while I’m eating, I’ll invite them to lunch with me.”
So down-stairs Betty went, smiling to think of herself as Betty Crusoe.
But as she passed the door of the living-room and glanced inside, her smile faded.
Her eyes grew big with amazement, her cheeks turned pale, and a shiver of fear shook her.
On the table lay a man’s hat!
“It couldn’t have been there when I was in here before,” she thought, “for I looked into those books, and now the hat’s on top of them!”