The boys followed Mr. Floyd, while Cora and her chums looked about the bungalow before going to their rooms, where their trunks had been carried, having arrived safely the day before.
The main floor of the bungalow consisted of one big living room, with three smaller rooms opening off from it. These could be used as sitting rooms or bed rooms, folding bunks making beds at night. The living room, as also an alcove dining room, was simply but tastefully furnished, with rustic furniture. At one end was a big stone fireplace, though it was so warm now that no blaze was needed.
A broad stairway gave access to the upper story and here the bedrooms were. Though the rooms there were not high-ceilinged they had such large windows that plenty of air was assured. There were two bath rooms, a spring up in the hills filling a tank on the roof so that a supply of running water was to be had.
The bedrooms each contained a white iron bed and just enough furniture to make a simple life agreeable. There was a touch of daintiness, mingled with utility, and the girls were delighted with their apartments.
Soap and water, with a mere suggestion of talcum powder, wonderfully refreshed the four, and they were ready for the appetizing meal, odors of which were wafted up from the kitchen.
This was in a separate part of the bungalow, and the quarters of the caretaker and his wife were in a building connecting with the bungalow by a covered passageway.
“There come the boys back!” exclaimed Hazel, giving a hasty glance in a mirror, as she floated out of Cora’s room, having come in to borrow some hairpins.
“Yes, you can hear them before you see them,” agreed Jack’s sister. “I hope Mrs. Floyd has enough for them to eat.”
“And for us, too. I’m hungry, Cora. But she looked like a good cook.”
“Mother said she was. Well, are you ready to go down?” she called to Bess and Belle.