“Come over and breakfast with us,” cried jolly Uncle Ned, not expecting at all that they would do so.
But Helen replied: “Indeed we will; for I’m awfully hungry, and it doesn’t look at all hopeful over here.” And the two girls ran across and gratefully seated themselves at Aunt Molly’s cozy table.
And that’s how it happened that the mystified Rosie waited alone in the silent kitchen until she could stand it no longer, and resolved to take her hat and go home. But first she thought she would go upstairs and make sure that the fairy-like “Miss Margreet” had not reappeared in the same mysterious fashion in which she must have taken her departure.
But no, she found the room still empty.
Uncertain what to do, she opened the door of the next room, and there were Millicent and Marjorie, who had returned to bed and to sleep, just waking up, startled at the sudden apparition.
The apparition was startled, too, and exclaimed:
“Oh, young ladies, I was thot shcared! Sure there’s nobody in the house at all, at all—savin’ your prisince.”
Millicent could think of no explanation for this extraordinary statement, but that didn’t bother her in the least. Here was a dramatic situation just to her mind, and she grasped it at once.
“Who are you?” she said in a low, mysterious whisper.
“Rosie O’Neill, miss,” said the Irish girl, fascinated by Millicent’s gaze.