Penny and Louise offered little comment as they helped Mrs. Lear unhitch Trinidad. However, they could see that the old lady was fairly brimming-over with suppressed excitement.
“It’s late, but I ain’t one bit tired,” Mrs. Lear declared as they all entered the house. “There’s somethin’ mighty stimulatin’ about a barn dance.”
Penny was tempted to remark that her hostess had spent very little time at Silas Malcom’s place. Instead she remained silent.
The girls went at once to bed. Mrs. Lear did not follow them upstairs immediately, but puttered about the kitchen preparing herself a midnight snack. Finally her step was heard on the stairs.
“Good night, girls,” she called cheerfully as she passed their door. “Sleep tight.”
Mrs. Lear entered her own bedroom. Her door squeaked shut. A shoe was heard to thud on the floor, then another.
“I wish I knew what to think,” Penny confided to Louise in a whisper. “She’s the queerest old lady—”
Louise had no opportunity to reply. For both girls were startled to hear a shrill cry from the far end of the hall.
The next instant their bedroom door burst open. Mrs. Lear, grotesque in old fashioned flannel nightgown, staggered into the room.
“Why, what’s wrong?” Penny asked in astonishment.