"It isn't that she's so very old--or sick! I believe she just won't stir! Mrs. Lee says she has had a very unhappy life," Renée explained at home. Now Mrs. Forrester and the ugly old stone house shared the interest of the pow-wow.
Another time Renée told, with much amusement, how she had insisted upon raising the shade at the bedroom window so that Mrs. Forrester might see how spring-like the sun made everything look and how the old lady had promptly hopped out of bed and had pulled it down with such a snap that it fell to the floor!
"But she just had to go back to bed and leave it there and I went on reading's though nothing had happened and I know she really loved the sunshine because she lay there as quiet as could be, staring at the window!"
But one afternoon Renée returned, deeply excited, with a secret that she kept for Pat's ears and the seclusion of the Eyrie.
"I was reading something awfully stupid for I thought she might go to sleep and I know she wasn't listening at all, and finally I heard her say, "If I could find my baby--I'd be ready to die!" Now I wasn't reading a thing about dying or a baby and she frightened me dreadfully! I suppose she had forgotten I was there. Then when I went on reading she said it again--real plain! Now, Pat, isn't that exciting? Where do you suppose her baby is and how'd she ever lose it?"
None of Pat's experiences could equal this for mystery! Pat stared at Renée and Renée stared back; in the quiet of the Eyrie they thought up all sorts of explanations and stories--tragic, all of them! Pat fairly shivered with delight.
"Aren't you lucky, Renée--to have such a spliffy mystery! It's just spooky! I'm going to write a story about that! You get her to talk more--read a lot about babies and listen hard! And talk to that old Crosspatch, maybe she'll tell you something. That's the way they always do in detective stories. Something dreadful must have happened to make her live like that, in that ugly old house! Oh, rapture, I know I'm going to be famous! This goes way ahead of Aunt Pen's story! Of course," she added, hastily, "I don't know all Aunt Pen's secret sorrow yet and she doesn't stay in bed and act queer! I think I'll call this "The Lost Baby!"
So that evening, armed with several newly-sharpened pencils and much of Daddy's writing paper, Pat began her first chapter. However, its progress met with a serious setback when Aunt Pen laid in her hands a letter from Angeline Snow. Pat opened it eagerly; she had not heard from any of her old schoolmates at Miss Prindle's for a long time.
She read it quickly. Miss Angeline, in a few breezy sentences, informed Pat that she would come immediately to make her a visit!
"... You were such a dear to ask me (Pat read that twice, thoughtfully)--and the doctor says I need a teeny rest. Mama is in California and of course I cannot go to her! But we'll have a perfectly sweet time together and I'm just dying to see you again. We've missed you dreadfully here! I have bushels to tell you--just you. (About the girls and things--you'll die when you hear it all!) I'll come on the Empire on Thursday, so please meet me. I have a stunning new hat, henna and turquoise blue and a feather you'll want to eat. Bye-bye, your Angeline."