“Let’s go somewhere and read it all; so we can exchange news,” proposed Martha.
“A very good idea. That ‘somewhere’ might just as well be one of our rooms,” agreed Miss Ashton, leading the way to the elevator, to which a bell boy had already preceded them with the luggage. They got off at the third floor, where two rooms had been reserved for them. They were a bit disappointed to find that they were not connecting; one, a small room, was near the end of the corridor; the other, much larger, was near the stairs.
“My goodness,” exclaimed Martha, as they entered the larger one. “You could give a dance here!”
A huge double bed near the fireplace, a single beside the two long windows (from which they could see the wharf), a big wardrobe, an immense dresser, a fair-sized square table and three chairs only partly filled the old-fashioned room; and its very high ceilings accentuated its huge proportions.
“You could take the single bed if you wanted to, Mart,” proposed Nancy; “and give Miss Ashton a chance to get a little real sleep. You see, we know how restless she is at night, as well as by day,” she added to Miss Ashton.
“Fix it up any way to suit yourselves,” she replied; “and that will please me. Now for our mail.”
For several minutes there was no sound except the opening of envelopes and the turning of pages. When everyone had read all her communications, they began to exchange bits of information.
“One of mine,” said Miss Ashton, “is from Madelon. Her foster mother is still confined to her bed, and she has no idea when she will be able to come back to Boston.”
“What a shame!” cried Nancy.
“Poor Madelon!” said Jeanette softly. “She must feel terribly lonely up there now, after having lived in a city like Boston.”