"Let's look in the rooms and then go down stairs, said Olive taking up the light. Perhaps she has gone to Mrs. Dane's after all, and is staying late to frighten us, as Kittie says. Come on, and when she comes, don't pretend to be surprised or a bit scared."
This being Olive's first suggestion, it was received as bearing some weight, as indeed suggestions and advice always are when they come from people who do not always have them at tongue's end, ready for all, or any occasions. A little brighter feeling dawned upon the forlorn group, as they went to the twin's and Olive's rooms, without finding any trace, and then returned to the sitting-room. Bea half hoped and expected that they would find Ernestine sitting by the fire, full of laugh, and ready to tease them on their fright and search; but she was disappointed, for the room was dreary and lonely, the light wood fire having died of neglect; and everything looked unutterably forlorn to their anxious eyes. In an ominous silence all four sat down on the lounge, closely huddled together, and tried to talk; but it was a vain attempt. It seemed impossible to bring any voice low enough so as that it did not sound like a trumpet in the painful stillness of the house; every one jumped when any one spoke, so by and by, they were perfectly still, while the clock ticked so loudly and every moment brought a deeper fear and trembling anxiety.
Eleven! Twelve!
"Let us go to bed," whispered Olive. Somehow it seemed that whispering was the only admissible thing then. "See, the lamp was not filled fresh to-day, and it's burning down; we'll be in the dark in a few minutes."
"Oh, I'm so afraid," quavered Kat. "Let's all sleep together."
No one seemed to object, for really it was something to chill even a brave heart. Those four girls alone in the great still house at midnight, with the terrible fear at their hearts, and their wildest imagination in full play. They went up stairs as softly as though Ernestine lay dead in the house; and all went with their eyes shut except Olive, who carried the lamp, and even she kept her eyes away from everything save right where she walked. No one had cried yet but Bea; so when they knelt about the bed for prayer, each one broke down, and they finally dropped asleep, sobbing softly, with their arms about each other.
Morning came, with the brightest of sunshine, and put a more cheerful face upon things, as daylight always does. The girls jumped up merrily, quite convinced that it was all a joke, and that they were foolish to have been so frightened. Ernestine had gone to Mrs. Dane's and stayed all night; she would be home pretty soon and they would all have a good laugh over it. So they thought, and flew about lively with their work; but breakfast was over and cleaned up, the house was all in order, and the day fairly begun; still no Ernestine had arrived, and Olive had not gone.
"Seems to me, I can't go until we know something," she said, standing in the door and looking down the street. "I will be home to dinner, and surely she will be here by that time."
"I suppose so, of course," said Bea, feeling last night's fear beginning to tug at her heart again.
"Seems to me nothing could happen with a morning so lovely as this," said Kittie, looking anxious and sleepy.