“Don’t you think you ought to wake the boys?” asked Belle, hesitating on the landing.
“I couldn’t do that without waking the whole house, Aunt Betty and all,” answered Cora. “Besides, the boys would have the laugh on us and try to patronize us. We don’t want to be looked on as a lot of cowards.”
Both of the sisters seemed to be perfectly willing just at that moment to be included in that ignominious category, but they were accustomed to follow where Cora led, and they went down the stairs, their slippered feet making no noise.
The knocking still continued, though it seemed weaker than at first.
Cora, with her lighted bedroom candle in her hand, softly approached the door, which was secured by a double lock and also by a heavy chain.
“Who is there?” she asked.
“Please let me in,” came in a woman’s voice from outside.
“Who are you?” Cora repeated.
“Nina,” was the answer. “Oh, please let me in!”
Cora unfastened the chain and turned the key, and as she opened the door the gypsy girl staggered into the bungalow.