iage of perennial lupins, tossing up a white
spray of flowers, and then it seemed as if every old-fashioned flower of
white, or with a white variety, ran riot down to a border of sweet
alyssum. Above all the fragrance came the unmistakable sweetness of
mignonette.

"Oh, Burt!" called Anne, "I do hope she's home. What a woman she must
be, I can guess some things about her, just from the outside of her
house. I hope she'll show me the inside of it."

Burt shook his head. "She'd have seen us before this and been out here,"
he suggested. "Come 'round to the back."

The back of the premises proved no less fascinating; there was the
neatest of clothes-yards, a vegetable garden, and a small garage, after
which Anne regarded the silent cottage with wistful eyes.

"Those beautiful, old-fashioned flowers, no petunias but the white
frilled kind,--she's an artist--and has the wash done at home," she
enumerated, "and runs her automobile herself, I am sure, for she's a
practical person as well; if she were just a sentimental flower-lover,
she'd have had something or other climbing up the house, and it spoils
the woodwork."

"It's safe to say Aunt Susan's in California," said Burt, disregarding
this. "No joke, Nan, she has a married daughter who has been trying to
get her out there for years, and Aunt Susan's always threatening to go.
Never thought she would, but we can soon find out; I know who'll have
the key."

He left Anne and walked back to the house just passed, and presently
reappeared with the key. "Here you are. Aunt Susan left it with Mrs.
Brown, who is to look after the place, and to use her judgment about
letting people in. Aunt Susan has only been gone two days, she went
hurriedly at the last, and Mrs. Brown is to close the house for her, but
she hasn't got 'round to it yet. Lucky for us, there'll be everything we
need for lunch; I brought eggs--see?"

Laughing like a boy. Burt unlocked the back door, and then produced four
eggs, from as many pockets. He laid them carefully down upon the kitchen
table.

"Now, Nan, we can use anything in the kitchen or pantry, and Mrs. Brown
has a blueberry pie in the oven which she'll give us, she'll bring it
over when it's done.--Want to go over the house?--Give you my word it's
all right, in fact Aunt Susan told Mrs. Brown she wished she could rent
it, as is, if she only knew somebody who would love it--that was her
word. You can love it until the afternoon train, can't you?"