t it warm?" remarked Cleo, whose tangled tresses had a way of
gathering heat. "I almost wish I had worn a thin blouse."

"We'll order a light lunch, Kimball," remarked Mrs. Harris to her
husband, "as the girls can scarcely wait to get out to Bellaire. Then
I'll return with you, and we will leave them to their fate. I'm sure
it will be a kind fate when directed by your good natured sister. Hope
she won't spoil them." And the waiter returning with the order would
surely have smiled, had he been human, and not a waiter, for the group
awaiting his approach made small effort to conceal his welcome.

En route once more from New York to Bellaire it seemed but a few
minutes' run, when finally they drew up to the big rustic house, set
back in a rocky nook against the mountain.

"Oh, isn't it lovely!" exclaimed Madaline, "and everything is so clear
after smoky Pennsylvania."

"Yes, Bellaire is beautiful," Cleo replied, with a show of pride that
her relation should be the benefactor. "I know we'll have a wonderful
time. Aunt Audrey is like a girl herself, and she knows what girls
enjoy."

"Oh, her husband is the author, isn't he?" Grace remembered. "We'll
have a chance to see how he writes all his funny books."

"'Fraid not," said Cleo, "Uncle Guy is away. We are going to have
everything to ourselves but his study. You can be sure that's all
locked up. But look! See that queer woman dressed like a gypsy! See
her going along by the hedge! What--do you suppose she is looking for?"

"Early dandelions, perhaps," ventured Mrs. Harris, who had overheard
the question as she stopped in her luggage directions to Collins.

"But she isn't like a gypsy either," Cleo insisted. "Look at the lace
head dress!"

"And the girl with her," interposed Grace. "My, but she's dressed
queer, too. Looks like something from the stage or movies."

The old woman and child had now come up to the big gateway, where the
touring car was parked awaiting the exit of another motor that happened
to be standing in the Dunbar driveway. As the strange little girl
gazed at the tourists she dropped something--a book--and the woman with
her, evidently a caretaker, shook her violently at the trivial accident.

"Oh!" exclaimed Grace. "How rough, just for dropping a book!"

"But look! how that girl stares!" whispered Madaline. "As if she
couldn't get her eyes off us."

"Isn't the girl pretty," commented Cleo. The tourists were now gazing
wi