"Nutting party," cried Kittie, dancing furiously and nodding her head like a demented monkey. "To-morrow,——want to go?"
The girls had all collected by this time around the boisterous pair, and Bea flapped her sewing warningly, as Kat came whizzing down the bannisters for a final time, and landed with a dexterous jump, in the middle of the group.
"I'm going down town," said Ernestine, after hearing of the near and great event. "I can't go."
"Of course not," said Kittie, with great scorn. "You'd rather go down town, and be all the afternoon buying a shoe string, than get a Saratoga trunk full of nuts; but you'll want some of mine this winter."
Olive was busy on a picture, Bea had some sewing, so the twins must represent the Dering family, and accepted the matter quite blissfully, to judge from the way they raced off for parts unknown, and remained absent for some time, as if strange and wonderful preparations were necessary, and being undergone for to-morrow. They came back when the tea-bell rang, at least Kittie did, slowly and solemnly through the back yard, and lingered several minutes on the porch, with many mysterious signals to some one, down where the long yard sloped to the pond, and a fringe of willows shaded the water.
"Where's Kathy," inquired Ernestine, who strongly objected to the extremely abbreviated form of 'Kat.'
"Down at the pond, she's coming," answered Kittie, with a strangely worried look; but Ernestine flitted by without noticing it, and pretty soon Kittie quit leaning over the lattice and went in slowly.
Just as Mrs. Dering was leaving her room to go down to tea, she heard a peculiarly suspicious noise out in the back hall, unmistakably the careful opening of a window, as of someone on the low roof without, and pausing to listen, Mrs. Dering became convinced, that someone was surely making entrance to the house in that questionable manner. A midnight burglary was a rare occurrence in Canfield, but one in the early fall of evening, was beyond imagination, and yet Mrs. Dering was conscious of a little trepidation, as she tiptoed her way round to the back hall, and fancy pictured a man, with sly intent, coming over the window-sill. Whoever the intruder was, he was working with great care, and wholly unconscious of any one's approach, for when Mrs. Dering reached the corner and peeped around, the intruding head was just leveled, and coming through, carefully followed by a nimble body, but not clothed in the habiliments usually donned by burglars; instead, there appeared a blue calico much drenched and ornamented with wet weeds, an apron wholly unrecognizable as to color or design, and a drabbled hat hanging to the intruder's neck. As this queer apparition landed on the floor, Mrs. Bering stepped around the corner, whereupon the bold burglar jumped and screamed faintly, and the lady laughed, though she said with grave inquiry:
"Why Kathleen! What does this mean?"
"Oh, mama!" gasped the burglar, with a despairing glance at her dripping self. "I didn't want you to see me."