HE WAS A CHUBBY LITTLE FELLOW.
“Yes; the windows are open in the living-room, and I can peep under the shades and see Anne at the piano,” whispered Eleanor.
Just then the breeze wafted one of the shades back from the window, and the girls recognised Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Latimer as the guests of Anne.
“Let’s hurry in!” exclaimed Eleanor, suddenly turning from the front window and darting into the vestibule.
The outside door was open wide, and as Eleanor ran up the one step that raised the tiled entrance from the sidewalk, she stumbled over a soft bundle that seemed pushed against the wall.
By this time, Polly also reached the vestibule, but the inside door being closed and locked for protection, it was too dark in the vestibule for either of the girls to see what the huge bundle contained.
“It feels like a bundle of old clothes. Maybe some servant hid it here for a time—she may be going to come back for it,” observed Eleanor, prodding the bundle with her foot.
But to the surprise of both girls, a little squeal issued from the roll. In the semi-darkness, they stood spell-bound and gazed at each other.
“It’s a baby—of all things!” cried Polly, hastily trying the handle of the door.