“She was waiting for me too,” mused Nora with a twinge of compunction. “I do wonder why they made such a fuss about me staying in the attic?” It was delicious to have every one anxious about her,—so short a time ago no one but the Circle Angel at the Baily School seemed to care whether she slept in her bed or out on the old, tattered hammock, that Barbara wanted to make a tree climber out of; and now in this lovely little bungalow, called The Nest, there were so many beds for her she couldn’t choose.
All the same, with the insistence of her fancies, visions of goblins and goo-gees up in the attic pranced through her excited brain and made the queerest pictures. She shivered as she remembered them.
“But Vita is nothing like a spirit worker,” mused the child. “And she is so kind and seems so fond of me.” Then she had an inspiration.
“I have it,” she all but exclaimed aloud. “Vita knows what is wrong and is afraid I will find out. She is not frightened at it or she would not go prowling around in the dark,” continued the reasoning, “but she has a secret and it is in that attic.”
As if this conclusion settled all disturbing doubts, Nora humped over once or twice and then gave in to the sleep her tired little self was so sorely in need of.
It was the end of a long and too well filled day. She had left the select school with all the instructions of the Misses Baily fairly hissing in her ears. Then there was Barbara’s fun making, in the way of a train letter with all sorts of wild premonitions (they were funny but somehow the train incidents took on the threats of danger Barbara had outlined). But after all, no one had kidnapped her and here she was—yes, asleep in the big fluffy bed in the lovely yellow room.
A whistle—Jerry’s—brought her back. The daylight was streaming in through that wonderful dew laden vine. And oh, the scent!
It was not flowers but woodlands. A bird chirped a polite good morning, and without the usual eye rubbing Nora was sitting up straight and silently thanking the Maker of good things for such a wonderful day.
For the first time in her life she felt that her clothes were not appropriate, and it was some moments before she could decide just which little gown to appear in. They really seemed out of place in that rugged country—her laces and ribbons and fine fussings.
“I suppose the Girl Scouts do wear practical things,” she reflected, “but that horrid khaki!” The thought sent a little shudder through the small, frail shoulders, and Nora, donning her Belgian blue, with brown sandals and two colored socks, was ready, presently, to meet her newly adopted relations. Cap was at her door when she opened it, and this, more than anything else, sent a thrill of joy to her heart. Even a wonderful big dog to welcome her when any dog would surely want to be out doors with Jerry on such a morning!