, in the prospect of supper and then of roasting
chestnuts, she forgot all about the spring-house key. This, by the way,
was lying on the door-mat where she had dropped it. A little later on,
it was picked up by Reliance and was slipped into the pocket of her
gingham apron. "I won't remind her that she dropped it. Likely as not
she forgot all about it," said Reliance to herself. "I ought not to have
trusted it to as little a girl as she is."

It was not till after she was in bed that Edna remembered that she had
ever had the key. Where had she put it? She had no recollection of it
after she had swung it by its string upon her finger on the way to the
house. "It must be on the kitchen table," she told herself. "I opened my
handkerchief there to show mother the tomatoes." She sat up in bed
wondering if she would better get up and go down, but she finally
decided to wait till her mother should have come to bed and then confide
in her.

However, try as she would, she could not keep awake. It had been an
exciting and fatiguing day and she was in the land of dreams in a few
minutes, not even having visions of keys, spring-houses or Thanksgiving
dinners, but of the mother cat and her three kittens who were climbing
chestnut trees and throwing down chestnuts to her.

CHAPTER III

WHERE'S THE KEY?

Very, very early in the morning Edna was awake. She was not used to
farmyard sounds and could not tell if it were a lusty rooster, an
insistent guinea-fowl or a gobbling turkey whose voice first reached
her. But whichever it was, she was quite broad awake while it was yet
dark. She lay still for a few minutes, with an uncertain feeling of
something not very pleasant overshadowing her, then she remembered the
key. "Oh, dear," she sighed, "if they can't get into the spring-house
there will be no cream for breakfast and no butter, either. The key must
be found."

She got up and softly crept to the window. A bright star hung low in the
sky and there was the faintest hint of light along the eastern horizon.
Presently Edna saw a lighted lantern bobbing around down by the stable
and concluded that Ira must be up and that it was morning, or at least
what meant morning to farmers. She stood watching the light grow in the
east and finally decided that she would dress and be all ready by the
time it was light enough to hunt for the lost key.

By now she could see well enough to find her clothes, but, fearing lest
she should wake