“It isn’t either of the aunties,” whispered Dolly, “they’re in the house.”
“Who is it then?” Jack whispered back, and Pinkie said, “Don’t let’s go in, I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of a lady!” said Dick. “Pooh, I’m not. Maybe it’s your mother, Pinkie.”
“No, it isn’t,” she replied. “Mother’s at home. Maybe it’s Hannah.”
“What would Hannah be here for?” said Dolly. “Let’s go in and see who it is.”
“All right,” said Dick, and he stepped inside. “She won’t speak to me,” he said, stepping out again. “You go in, Jack.”
Not wishing to be thought cowardly, Jack stepped into the arbour, and in his politest tones, said:
“How do you do, ma’am?”
But the lady did not move, and just looked at Jack with big blue eyes, that stared through her black veil.
“She’s a funny lady,” said Jack, rather bewildered. “She won’t speak, and she just stares at me.”