"I wonder if it would be impertinent to walk in?" suggested Mollie.
"We at least can knock and ask—they won't refuse," said Betty. "And really, with the wind this way, the porch is no protection at all."
She rapped on the open door. There was no response and she tapped again—louder, to make it heard above the noise of the storm.
"That's queer—maybe no one is at home," said Grace.
"They would hardly go off and leave the house all open, when it looked so much like rain," declared Amy. "Suppose we call to them? Maybe they are upstairs."
The girls were now getting so wet that they decided not to stand on ceremony. They went into the hall, through the front door. There was a parlor on one side, and evidently a sitting room on the other side of the central hall.
"See that rain coming in on the curtains and carpets!" cried Betty.
"Girls, we must close the windows," and she darted into the parlor.
The others followed her example, and soon the house was closed against
the elements.
Breathless the girls waited for some sign or evidence of life in the house. There was none. The place was silent, the only sound being the patter of the rain and the sighing of the wind. The girls looked at each other. Then Betty spoke:
"I don't believe there's a soul here!" she exclaimed. "Not a soul! The house is deserted!"