downstairs, Hannah had impressed Pat and Michael into service, and all three were hunting for the missing guests.
But it never occurred to them to go so far as the woods, where Dick and Dolly were even then sitting, watching the grey squirrel, and looking for fairies.
“I’m thinkin’ they’ve fell in the pond,” said Pat, as he gazed anxiously into the rather muddy water.
“Not thim!” said Michael; “they’re not the sort that do be afther drownin’ thimsilves. They’re too frisky. Belikes they’ve run back to the brook where they shtopped at yisterday. Do yez go there an’ look, Pat.”
“Yes, do,” said Miss Rachel, who, with clasped hands and a white face was pacing the veranda.
“Don’t take it so hard, sister,” implored Miss Abbie. “They’re around somewhere, I’m sure; and if not, – why, you know, Rachel, you didn’t want them here very much, anyway.”
“How can you be so heartless!” cried Miss Rachel, her eyes staring reproachfully at her sister. “I do want them; they’re brother’s children, and this is their rightful home. But I wish they wanted to stay. I’m sure they ran away because they didn’t like us. Do you think we were too harsh with them yesterday?”
“Perhaps so. At any rate, they have run away. I thought they were in the garden, but if so, they would have been found by now. Do you suppose they took an early train back to New York?”
“Oh, Abbie, how can you say so! Those two dear little mites alone in a great city! I can’t think it!”
“It’s better than thinking they are drowned in the pond.”
“Either is awful; and yet of course some such thing must have happened.”
The two ladies were on the verge of hysterics, and the servants, who had all been hunting for the children, were nonplussed. Pat had jumped on a horse, and galloped off to the brook which had so taken their fancy the day before, and Michael stood, with his hands in his pockets, wondering if he ought to drag the pond. Delia, the cook, had left the waiting breakfast and had come to join the anxious household.
“I’m thinkin’ they’re not far off,” she said; “why don’t ye blow a horn, now?”
“That’s a good idea,” said Miss Abbie; “try it, Michael.”
So Michael found an old dinner-horn that had hung unused in the barn for many years, and he blew resounding blasts.
But unfortunately, the babes in the woods were too far away to hear, and forgetful of all else they watched two squirrels, who, reassured by the children’s quiet, ran back and forth, and almost came right up to Dick and Dolly’s beckoning fingers.
“If only we had something to feed them,” said Dick, vainly hunting his pockets for something edible.
“If only we had something to feed ourselves,” said Dolly; “I’m just about starved.”
“So’m I; let’s go back now, and come to see the squirrels some other time, and bring them some nuts.”
“All right, let’s.”
So back they started, but leisurely, for they had no thought of how the time had slipped by. They paused here and there to investigate many things, and it was well on toward nine o’clock when they came within hearing of Michael’s horn, on which he was blowing a last, despairing blast.
“Hear the horn!” cried Dick. “Do you s’pose that’s the way they call the family to breakfast?”
“Oh, it isn’t breakfast time, yet,” said Dolly, confidently. “I’m hungry enough, but it can’t be eight o’clock, I know. And, besides, I want time to tidy up.”
The clean frock had lost its freshness, and the blue bow was sadly askew, for somehow, try as she would, Dolly never could keep herself spick and span.
They trudged along, through the barnyard and the garden, and finally came to the kitchen door, which stood invitingly open.
“Let’s go in this way,” said Dolly; “it’s nearer, and I can skin up to my room and brush my hair. I don’t want Auntie Rachel to think I’m always messy.”
In at the back door they went, and as the kitchen was deserted, they looked around in some surprise.
“Might as well catch a bun,” said Dick, seeing a panful of rolls in the warming oven.
The hungry children each took a roll, and then sped on up to their rooms, intent on tidying themselves for breakfast.
“For goodness’ sake, Dolly!” exclaimed Dick’s voice through the door, “it’s after nine o’clock! Do you s’pose they’ve had breakfast, and where is everybody?”
“After nine o’clock!” said Dolly, opening the door, to make sure she had heard aright. “Well, if this isn’t the queerest house! Hurry up, Dick, and brush your hair, and we’ll go down and see what’s the matter. I know they haven’t had breakfast, for the kitchen range was all full of cereals and things.”
A few moments later, two neat and well-brushed children tripped gaily downstairs. They went into the library, where their two aunts, nearly in a state of collapse, were reposing in armchairs.
“Good-morning, aunties,” said the twins, blithely. “Are we late?”
Miss Abbie gasped and closed her eyes, at the astonishing sight, but Miss Rachel, who was of a different nature, felt all her anxiety turn to exasperation, and she said, sternly:
“You naughty children! Where have you been?”
“Why, we just got up early, and went to look around the place,” volunteered Dolly, “and we didn’t know it got late so soon.”
“But where were you? We’ve searched the place over.”
“We went to the woods,” said Dick. “You see, Aunt Abbie, I felt as if I must screech a little, and we thought if we stayed too near the house, we might wake you up. It was awful early then. I don’t see how nine o’clock came so soon! Did we keep breakfast back? I’m sorry.”
“Why did you want to screech?” said Miss Abbie, quickly. “Are you homesick?”
“Oh, no! I mean screech for joy. Just shout, you know, for fun, and jump around, and turn somersaults. I always do those things when I’m glad. But as it turned out, we couldn’t, very much, for we were watching for fairies, and then for squirrels, so we had to be quiet after all.”
“And so you wanted to shout for joy, did you?” asked Aunt Rachel, much mollified at the compliments they paid so unconsciously.
“Oh, yes’m! Everything is so beautiful, and so – so sort of enchanted.”
“Enchanted?”
“Yes; full of fairies, and sprites. The woods, you know, and the pond, and the fountain, – oh, Dana Dene is the finest place I ever saw!”
Dick’s enthusiasm was so unfeigned, and his little face shone with such intense happiness, that Miss Rachel hadn’t the heart to scold him after all. So, resolving to tell the twins later of the trouble they had
