“Mrs. Lewis!” exclaimed Bess in surprise.
“Yes, but we won’t call her housekeeper. I haven’t thought it all out yet; in fact, I am not sure they will come, but I hope so.”
“Oh, so do I; that would be fine,” and Bess almost forgot how black the night was. “I met Mrs. Lewis the day we came, and I could not help thinking what a fine, wholesome mother Freda had.”
“Yes, I have been talking to her and I think she is just that—fine and wholesome. And goodness knows,” added Cora fervently, “we need some weight at the Mote. But they may not consent. I happened to overhear a remark this afternoon that set me to thinking. I am afraid poor Freda and her mother are in for further trouble.”
They hurried along, making their way with difficulty in the deep sand that covered road and path alike. Once or twice they paused, startled at the sound of men’s voices, then hurried the more to make up for lost time.
“Why didn’t we have one of the boys come with us?” asked Bess.
“Because I am not ready yet to have the boys know all our plans, and to trust one of them—Bess Robinson, you know our boys. What one knows the rest can guess.”
“That’s so,” mused Bess. “Is that the cottage?”
“Yes, right over there,” and Cora indicated a light through the trees. “I am glad they are still up!”
It was only a few steps further, and this space was rapidly covered. As the two girls reached the porch, and before they had a chance to touch the knocker, the door was opened by Freda.