The Spanish Chest | Page 6

been following began to eat but the others stood about, apparently consulting over something. Then I woke. Wasn't it a crazy dream? Oh, the reason we were in that passage was because something was lost. I don't know what it was nor how I knew it was lost but we were trying to find it."
"That was odd. You must have read something that suggested it," Mrs. Thayne began, just as Fran and Roger came into the room, bursting with suppressed excitement. For a few moments they talked in a duet.
"Mother, it's lovely over at St. Aubin's, ever so much nicer than here," Fran began breathlessly, her brown eyes sparkling. "And such a funny little train running along the esplanade!"
"You couldn't believe there was such a beach," put in Roger. "Why, the tide goes out forever, clear to the horizon! Fellows were playing football down there, two games. How much does this tide rise, Win?"
"This book I've been reading says forty feet," replied his brother.
"And the houses!" Fran went on breathlessly, "all colors, cream and brown and blue and pink."
"Oh, draw it mild, Sis," interrupted Win. "I should admire a pink house."
"It's out there," said Frances, "and what's more, it's very pretty!"
"That's right," corroborated Roger. "Wouldn't a pink house look something fierce at home? But here it's swell and kind of--of appropriate," he ended lamely.
"And flowers, Mother," Frances took up the tale. "Hedges of fuchsia, real live tall hedges, not measly little potted plants. Geraniums as tall as I am, and ever so many roses and violets. Oh, and we've found some lodgings. You're to see them to-morrow."
"Frances!" exclaimed her horrified mother. "You haven't been in strange houses, inspecting rooms?"
"Why, you told us to look for them, didn't you, Mother?" replied her astonished and literal daughter. "Roger was with me. It was perfectly all right."
"I simply meant you to notice from the outside any attractive houses that advertised lodgings," explained Mrs. Thayne. "Well--" she ended helplessly, "I suppose there's no harm done."
"Why, no," Frances agreed. "What could happen? Let me tell you about them. We took the baby cars and got off at St. Aubin's because that especial train didn't go any farther. It's lovely there, Mother, and plenty of lodgings to let. We walked along and saw one house that looked pleasant, so we went up and rang and a maid showed us into a parlor. We knew right off we didn't want to come there, because the place was so dark and stuffy and there were fourteen hundred family photographs and knit woolen mats and such things around. I was going to sit down but just as I got near the chair,--it was rather dark, you see,--something said 'Hello!' and there was a horrid great parrot sitting on the back of the chair. I jumped about a foot."
"You screamed, too," said Roger.
"I may have exclaimed," admitted Frances judicially. "It was not a scream. If I had yelled, you would have known it. Well, a messy old woman came who called me 'dear,' but when I said I didn't believe my mother would care for the rooms, she got huffy and said she was accustomed to rent her rooms to ladies, only she pronounced it lydies.
"We left that place," went on Frances, paying no attention to the look of silent endurance on her mother's face, "and walked some distance without seeing anything we liked. But suddenly we came to a tiny street going down to the sea. There were only six houses and one had a card in the window. They faced the bay and just big rocks were on the other side of the street. Now, listen."
Frances went on dramatically. "The house with the card was the dearest thing, all cream-color and green, with a pink rambler rose perfectly enormous, growing 'way up to the eaves, and a rough roof of red tiles and steep gables. The windows were that dinky kind that open outward and had little bits of panes. Everything was clean as clean, the steps and the curtains and the glass. While we were looking, the door opened and a girl came out. She was about my age, Mother, but so pretty, with gray eyes and yellow hair and such a complexion. I'd give anything to look like her."
Frances shook her head with disapproval over her own brown hair and eyes. To be sure the one was curly and the others straightforward and earnest, while her gipsy little face and figure were considered attractive by most people and by those who loved her, very satisfactory indeed.
"Well, this girl came out and we sort of smiled at each other and I asked if that card meant that there were rooms to let. I told her you were seasick, and at the hotel, and my brother and I