"Though we can't stay out very long," Jessie said regretfully. "The rule is, every one in rooms by eight o'clock, lights out by nine. And with winter coming on and the days getting so short we hardly have any time at all after supper."
To the three Woodford girls the grounds about Laurel Hall were even more beautiful than they had imagined them.
The Hall was set in the midst of a considerable property. There were not many trees, for a great number of these had been sacrificed for the sake of the lawn that stretched like a piece of green velvet from the road almost to the borders of the lake. What trees there were were grand old patriarchs, tremendous in girth, heavy branches sweeping upward toward the sky.
About three of these beautiful old trees rustic benches had been fashioned, and these seats were almost always occupied by groups of laughing girls.
The shadows were falling thickly as a number of the girls made their way down to the boathouse on the shores of the lake. The water was only a shimmer of gray against a darker background.
The towering mountain that had seemed only picturesque in the brilliant glare of the afternoon sun now rose dark and mysterious against the shadowy sky.
Sight of the boathouse reminded the girls of the mysterious happenings connected with it.
"We aren't going inside, are we?" asked Sadie a shade nervously.
Doris Maybel laughed.
"Not a chance! It's strictly against the rules to enter the boathouse after dark."