“It isn’t hard to know where the inn got its name, is it?” said Miss Phillips, nodding in the direction of the big maple; “and isn’t it a beautiful tree!”
“If the ‘inn’ proves to be as nice as the outside,” said Ethel, attempting a pun, “I’ll be satisfied.”
The interior disclosed a central hall, with a reception room on either side. One of these was attractively furnished as a parlor; the other was obviously the office. Into the door of the latter Miss Phillips therefore entered.
“Five nice rooms on the second floor!” announced the clerk, in answer to Miss Phillips’s request. “I think you ought ter like ’em, too!”
“Is the house very old?” asked Marjorie, as they ascended the broad curved staircase.
“Yes, very. George Washington stayed here one night, on his way to Philadelphia.”
“Of course he did,” laughed Doris. “But say—is it haunted?”
“I reckon!” answered the man.
A moment later he flung open two or three doors and disclosed the bedrooms. There the girls beheld four-poster beds, Colonial rag rugs, and snowy curtains at the windows.
“It’s lovely!” exclaimed Miss Phillips. “We certainly ought to have a real rest. Now—” she waited for the clerk to depart—“has anybody any preference as to rooms? Select whichever you like.”