HE "hot spell" broke that night and the morning was deliciously cool and fresh. This delightful state of weather continued for several days and was immediately reflected in the changed temper of the Willis household and, it is safe to say, in many other Eastshore households since we are all more or less affected by weather conditions.
Aunt Trudy, who really was miserable under excessive heat revived and insisted on giving a birthday party for Shirley who was six years old on the third of August, and Rosemary and Sarah pleased and touched the good lady by their assurances that it was the nicest child's party ever given in the town. Shirley took her good fortune complacently and was heard to remark that she wished school would open the next day because now she was old enough to go.
The day after the party Aunt Trudy decided to "run into the city" for her new glasses and some special errands. She left soon after breakfast and would, she informed Winnie, return on the 5:48 train that afternoon.
It was the day for Rosemary's music lesson and she went, at two o'clock, to her teacher's house. The lesson over, she took a book back to the Library for Aunt Trudy, bought some clothespins for Winnie and meeting Jack Welles, brown and freckled from his fishing trip, accepted his invitation to stop at the hardware store and see the prize trout his father had caught and which was mounted and on exhibition in the window. So it was nearly half past four when she reached home.
"Rosemary!" a shrill whisper came down to her over the bannisters, as she went upstairs to leave the book she had selected for Aunt Trudy on the table in her room. "Rosemary, come up here, quick!"
Rosemary, vaguely frightened, ran up to Sarah's room. Shirley was there and both little girls looked as though they had been crying.
"What's the matter—did Shirley hurt herself?" asked Rosemary in alarm.
Sarah shut the door and looked at her older sister queerly.
"Promise you won't tell? Cross-your-heart-hope-to-die?" she urged.
Rosemary sat down on the bed.