“We should have had to sleep in the dell. Cousin Helen could have taken the launch and perhaps Georgiana, because she is so frightened and nervous. I am so sorry for her, Mary, and for all of them, even that wretch of a Clarence. They are all orphans, you know, and wards of their fierce old grandmother. Georgiana and Edward lived in Canada until a few years ago. That is why they speak with so little accent, I suppose.”
Presently the wagon road emptied itself, like a tributary into the main stream, into what had once been a broad carriage road, a splendid avenue bordered with giant pine trees.
“Why, this must lead to a mansion,” exclaimed Billie as they turned into the avenue. “I suppose Edward works for the family who live here; but, somehow, I never can imagine his working for any one. He seems so—so different from chauffeurs and people like that in general.”
They walked along silently for a few minutes. There was only the last twittering of the birds to break the hushed stillness of the place.
“I feel as if I were approaching an enchanted palace,” whispered Elinor, who had dropped back with her two friends.
“It was on just such an evening as this, I fancy, and along just such a road that the prince came to waken the sleeping beauty,” exclaimed Mary.
“Oh, look,” cried several voices at once, and suddenly right in front of them loomed an immense house.
Four classic Doric columns supported the two galleries on the first and second floors, and at one side rambled a huge wing which must at one time have been the servants’ quarters, in this fine old mansion.
“Is this where you work, Edward?” asked Miss Campbell, without intending to be patronizing.
“Yes,” he replied. “It is my home,” he added, as he led them to the first gallery and banged the knocker loudly.