all settled,” said their hostess briskly; “I’ll get supper right away; for you must be hungry.”
The cottage boasted of a living room, dining room, kitchen, and two small bedrooms; so stowing away four extra people was something of an achievement. Immediately after they had finished the simple but delicious meal that Mrs. Chaisson prepared, Desiré shyly offered to help her hostess in preparation for the night.
“Thank you, my dear; if you will clear up the supper table and do the dishes while I hunt up some bedding, it will be very nice.”
“Please don’t trouble yourself about me,” said Jack, detaining Mrs. Chaisson on one of her many trips through the room; “I can sleep on the porch, or anywhere.”
“I’ll fix some place for you,” she replied, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Just go on with your business arrangements.” He and Simon had been discussing the route, customers, stock, and other details.
Like so many childless women, Mrs. Chaisson had a passion for children; and the thoughts of this little family starting out so bravely in search of a living moved her strongly.
“How I wish I could adopt them all,” she thought as she hurried on. “If only we had a little more money; but then, there’s Father, too, now; it couldn’t be done, even with the help of that fine big boy. I don’t wonder that his sister almost worships him.”
Nine o’clock saw them all settled for a good sleep. Old Simon in his own room, Mrs. Chaisson sharing hers with Priscilla, Desiré on the couch in the living room, and Jack and René in hammocks on the screened porch. It had been decided before they slept that as soon as breakfast was over, they would start out upon the great adventure.
“There is no use in hanging around here,” Jack had said to Desiré in their goodnight talk on the front steps.
“Wouldn’t it seem rather odd, or ungrateful, to hurry away so soon?” suggested the girl. “Mrs. Chaisson has been so very good to us.”
“I know that,” replied Jack quickly; “and for that very reason, we can’t take advantage of her. Then too, the longer we stay, the harder it will be for both sides when we do go.”
The boy had immediately sensed the good woman’s distress over their undertaking, and felt that the kindest act would be their immediate departure.
“Of course I realize,” he went on, “that it’s nice for you to have a little rest, and a woman’s companionship; but—”
“Don’t worry over me, Jack dear,” replied his sister, slipping her hand into his. “Whatever you decide is all right. So we’ll all be ready early in the morning.”
“You’re a good little soul,” answered Jack, with an affectionate goodnight kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Completely happy at his words of commendation, Desiré entered the house; and soon everyone was fast asleep. Shortly after midnight, she was suddenly awakened by the sound of a screen door closing, and steps crossing the porch.
CHAPTER V
A MIDNIGHT WALK
The thought that perhaps Jack was ill immediately flashed across Desiré’s mind. Throwing on a kimono, she hurried to the door. Down the walk which led to the street, through the gate which had been left part way open, and along the road walked—Priscilla!
No mistaking, even in the shadows, that plump childish form. Where was she going? Without stopping to do more than catch up the child’s coat, and her own which hung beside the door, Desiré followed her. Not wanting to call lest she should waken the neighborhood, she had to run to catch up to her sister; for Priscilla had quickened her pace as she approached the end of the road and turned onto the main street. Coming abreast with her at last, Desiré took the child’s arm; and, stooping to look at her face, was startled to see that her eyes, though open, were unseeing. Shaking with fright, Desiré asked softly—
“Where are you going, Prissy?”
“To the Grand Hotel,” was the prompt and surprising reply.
“But, darling,” protested the older girl, “it’s night, and everybody is in bed and asleep.”
“I’m going to sleep there. I’ve always wanted to.”
Then Desiré realized in a flash that Priscilla must be walking in her sleep. She remembered now that Mother had once spoken of her doing it when she was a very little girl and had become greatly excited over something. The splendors of the hotel must have been on her mind as she went to sleep.
How to get the child back without arousing her was a problem; she had heard that sleepwalkers must not be wakened suddenly.
“Well, dear,” she said quietly, “it’s getting cool. Let’s put on our coats before we go any farther.”
Priscilla stopped obediently, and, after both girls had put on their coats, Desiré took the little girl’s arm and turned her gently around, beginning a low monologue as she did so.
“You’re going in the wrong direction; we must go this way. Soon we’ll be there. Just down this street. We must be very quiet so no one will hear us. Step softly. Quiet!”
Leading, coaxing, hushing, Desiré finally got her sister into the house without waking any one, and settled her upon the living-room couch; for she dared not trust her out of her sight again that night.
“Now you’re all right,” she whispered, removing the child’s coat. “Isn’t that a lovely bed?”
“Yes,” breathed Priscilla, curling up under the blanket.
Noiselessly Desiré drew a big rocking chair close to her sister’s side, propped her feet up on the edge of the couch, and with the two coats spread over her, prepared to spend the rest of the night. No one must know of this escapade. Mrs. Chaisson would be distressed at not having awakened; Jack would be disturbed at having slept so soundly, and perhaps disapprove of her not calling him; and old Simon would be troubled by the idea of what might have happened. Also, Priscilla would probably be made nervous. Too excited to sleep, she dozed, dreamed, started, and wakened again until the first far-away call of a robin pierced the faint grey dawn. Immediately one in a tree beside the cottage answered; then a cock crowed; a song sparrow began its short sweet strains; and the day of the great adventure had really begun.
“Prissy,” she whispered, a little later, bending over the child.
The blue eyes opened lazily.
“Let’s get dressed, Prissy, and surprise Mrs. Chaisson by having the table set and things started before she wakens.”
“All right,” agreed the little girl, sitting up; “but—but—how did I get here?”
“You were rather restless; so I brought you out here with me—” began Desiré.
“And you slept in the chair! Oh, you must be so tired, Dissy. Why did you do it?”
“I’m all right, dear. Never mind about it. Don’t say anything of it to any one!”
“Why?” asked Priscilla, wondering at her sister’s earnestness.
