CHAPTER VIII
THE STORY OF THE TOWER ROOM
"Tell us a story, please tell us a story, Aunt Janice!"
"A story, Janey? . . . . What shall it be about?"
"About the old castle in the long ago," Beth hastened to beg, for she too, dearly loved the story hour.
The quiet moment seemed to have at last arrived, as they all gathered together on the broad veranda, in the twilight.
The old lady smiled. "A story of long ago! It seems I shall hardly know just where to begin; in the long ago, there used to be merry parties, but—" just there she paused, and linked it up with the present—"now since you young people have come, it seems more as it did then."
Aunt Janice's face was thoughtful, and for a few moments no one interrupted the thread of her thoughts.
Outside the twilight deepened, and the stars began to shine down through the rustling trees, in the garden.
"Do you think Dad may get here in time for the party?" Alice's tone was a tiny bit mournful, and Aunt Janice hastened to dispel any feeling of homesickness.