“I wish,” Rosanna commented emphatically, “that I had never brought you to this queer old house.”
Penny laughed as she went over to the fireplace and dropped on another stick of wood. She stood watching the sparks fly up the chimney.
“I think Caleb Eckert was only trying to be funny when he warned us of ghosts,” she declared. “At any rate, I’m too tired and sleepy to care much whether the place is haunted or not.”
“It’s a good night to sleep,” Rosanna admitted, going to the window. “I believe the storm is getting worse.”
Rain pounded steadily upon the roof and the wind was rising. It whistled weirdly around the corners of the house. The tall maple trees which shaded the front porch bent and twisted and snapped.
For a time the girls sat before the fire. Presently Penny suggested that they retire.
“I don’t believe I can sleep a wink tonight,” Rosanna protested. “Even though Caleb Eckert said it was all right for us to stay here, I don’t feel entirely easy about it.”
“I don’t see why not,” Penny protested as they mounted the creaking stairs to their bedroom. “According to the letter, you’ve inherited the house. And you have a key.”
“I had a key you mean. I can’t understand how or where I lost it.”
In thinking back over the activities of the day, Rosanna could not recall taking either the key or the letter from her purse. However, several times for one purpose or another she had opened her pocketbook, and it was quite likely that the articles had fallen out unobserved. She thought possibly she might find them on the floor of Penny’s car. She intended to search in the morning.