"Why I'm as cold as ice, what a goose! Now let's see what's in this wonderful trunk to make me feel so funny; something splendid I guess, but I couldn't help opening it, I really couldn't,—oh dear!"
It was of disappointment, for there was nothing there but a queer old basket, a pillow, with a plain little slip, and a worn faded letter on top.
CHAPTER XI.
WHERE IS ERNESTINE?
The odor of hot cakes brought everybody in a hurry, when Kat opened the dining-room door, and shouted, "supper!" as though she was a pop-gun and the single word a deadly fire, and everybody had fallen to work at demolishing the pile of aforesaid cakes, before Bea looked up suddenly and asked:
"Where is Ernestine?"
Nobody knew, but Kat ventured, that perhaps she was going to supper it, on gloves and feathers.
"You better call again, Kat, perhaps she didn't hear."
So Kat rushed to the door, and shouted: