The girls watched the two go upstairs with Mrs. Gilligan bringing up the rear to make sure they did not stop half way, and then turned to each other with a queer expression, half of amusement, half of uneasiness, on their faces.
"Well, we always wanted an adventure," said Laura, as they turned back to the open door, feeling an instinctive need of getting out of the house, "and now we're having one."
"A regular one," agreed Billie, adding decidedly: "And I'm going to enjoy myself. Why, Laura," with a touch of excitement, "did you notice those funny old chairs and things? They're really very pretty, and they are surely very old. I shouldn't wonder—"
"Oh, Billie," cried Violet rapturously, "do you suppose you could get real money for them? If you could," she added with the air of a martyr that made the girls laugh, "it would be worth even braving the ghosts for."
"You don't really believe that silly thing, do you?" asked Billie, turning back into the hall. "It's all in a foolish old man's imagination."
"All right. And now you can bring in the provisions," they heard Mrs. Gilligan directing. "I don't know where the kitchen is, but I suppose there is one somewhere. I'll find it while you start to bring the things in."
"We'll each take a candle," cried Billie, her eyes shining in the flickering candle light, "and look for the kitchen. Come on, girls, follow the leader."
So, with Mrs. Gilligan at the head, they marched through what seemed to be a library, seen dimly by the light thrown by their four candles, into a room whose table and chairs showed it to be the dining-room.
"The kitchen must be just beyond, then," said Laura, beginning to enjoy herself immensely. "There's a door, Mrs. Gilligan. Look out—don't bump your head."
But Mrs. Gilligan had no intention of bumping her head. She swung open the door in question, and they found themselves in a butler's pantry that seemed almost as large as Billie's bedroom at home.