“And, why, there’s that little house we saw from the train!” exclaimed Margot, brightening considerably. “Look, Gretta!”
Yes, there it was, right on the cliff, not a quarter of a mile away.
“Oh, yes, you’d see that from the train, of course,” said Miss Read. “But we shall lose sight of it again almost at once. It’s a lonely little place.”
“I wonder who lives there,” said Margot. “It seems very strange. For one thing, we couldn’t see any windows. I thought when we passed it in the train that I would go there one day.”
“I’m afraid you won’t do that!” said Miss Read briskly. “It’s altogether too far for the school walks, but it’s an interesting little place—very!”
“Have you ever been inside, Miss Read?” inquired Sybil, in a friendly tone.
“No, indeed,” said that lady, “and I know very little about the house. It was built by an eccentric old man who lives there still, or so I believe. It wouldn’t do at all to call upon him. To say the least of it, it would be a most unwise proceeding.”
The pony had carried them out of sight of the little house, and they were soon on the high road. “We’re not far from the school now,” said Miss Read. “In five minutes we shall be there. You will all be glad of your tea.”
Gretta experienced an uncomfortable feeling as she realized how soon they were to be ushered into the new and unknown world. She looked first at Sybil and then at Margot, and wondered. And, as she wondered, the road took a turn. A huge red house, standing on the cliff in the midst of a large garden, came into view. Here, at last, was the Cliff School!