"I'm not going to hear what he has to say and let you wait," announced Sarah gruffly. "What do you suppose Miss Clinton wants?"
"Company, probably," said Rosemary. "We'll tell her we can't stay long, because Mother doesn't like us out after dark; we can stop at the bungalow on the way back and the boys will walk back with us."
They found Miss Clinton, sitting in her chair, in the center of the doorway. Then they were glad they had come, for it was easy to picture her sitting like that a whole dreary evening, watching and waiting.
"I hoped you'd come this evening," the old lady greeted them. "Is that Sarah with you? My, my, I don't often have you for a visitor, my dear."
Sarah looked pleased. She appreciated cordial welcome as much as anyone.
"I told the letter-man to tell Mrs. Hildreth I wanted to see you, Rosemary," went on Miss Clinton, "because I have a letter I can't read and I don't want to trust it to anyone around here. They are such gossips!" she added a little harshly.
"But can I read it?" asked Rosemary, surprised. "I mean will I be able to?"
"Oh, it's written in English, all right," laughed the old lady, her bright bird-like eyes twinkling. "I'm not asking you to translate a French or Spanish letter. I don't believe it will take you very long, because you are bright."
"We mustn't stay till dark," murmured Rosemary, wondering what kind of a letter it could be that Miss Clinton was unable to decipher.
"You'll have it done long before dark," Miss Clinton assured her. "Let me see, where did I put it? Oh yes—look in that jar on the cabinet shelf."