A Dear Little Girl's Thanksgiving Holidays Part 10

This argument satisfied Edna and she followed along through the deserted rooms, catching sight of a moth-eaten cover here, a bunch of withered flowers there. Books, long untouched, lay half open on a table in one room, the bed was still unmade in another, and everything was confusion.

"Isn't it lovely and spooky?" said Esther Ann, tingling with excitement.

"I'm going to see what is in those bureau drawers."

She darted toward an old-fas.h.i.+oned bureau which stood in the room, flopped down on her knees, and drew out the lower drawer. "Oh, girls,"

she cried, "look here."

The others gathered around her to see boxes in which were the treasures of a forgotten owner,--strings of beads, half-worn white kid gloves, a fan with ivory sticks, combs, and ornaments of various kinds.

"Let's each take something home to her mother," proposed Esther Ann. "I speak for the fan."

"Oh, Esther, do you dare?" asked Reba.

"Why not? They don't belong to anyone," came back the old argument.

"Some one else will most likely take them if we don't," remarked Reliance conclusively.

This satisfied the less venturesome, and they all sat down on the floor to make a selection. Reba chose a quaint, silver buckle, Reliance selected a mother-of-pearl card-case, Edna decided upon a tortoise-sh.e.l.l comb.

"Wasn't it lovely that we should find them?" said Esther Ann enthusiastically. "It will be so nice to be able to take home presents.

I am glad no one else found them before we did."

"I wonder how long the back door has been opened," said Reba. "Has it always been?"

"I don't know. I never tried it till the other day," Esther Ann told her.

After rummaging a little further and discovering frocks and coats of unfamiliar cut hanging in the closets and wardrobes, and coming upon mouldy slippers, and queer-looking hats in other places, they concluded they must go. Alcinda had wearied of waiting and had gone off long before, therefore, the four, after shutting the door behind them, took their way through the leaf-strewn path to the gate, then up the street to their respective homes.

"Don't you think Mrs. Willis will be pleased with the card-case?" asked Reliance, as they were entering the gate at Overlea.

"I'm sure she will. She can use it when she goes to the city to see Uncle Bert, and I know mother will like this comb," returned Edna.

Reliance had no time to present her gift at that moment for Amanda called her to come at once to attend to her duties, remarking that she was late, but Edna hunted up her mother who was upstairs. "Oh, mother, mother," she cried, entering the room where her mother was, "see what I have for you. Isn't it pretty?"

Her mother looked up from the letter she was writing. "What is it, dear?

Why, Edna, what a beautiful comb. Where did you get it?"

"I found it," replied Edna in an a.s.sured tone. "We all found lovely things." Then she launched forth upon an account of the afternoon's adventures.

Her mother listened attentively, and when the child had finished her tale, she drew her close to her side, kissing the little, eager face, and saying, "Dear child, I am afraid you have made a mistake. The things were not for you little girls to take."

"But mother, they didn't belong to anyone. They have been there for years and years, and n.o.body wants them."

"They would have to belong to some one, dear child. We will ask grandma about the house and whose property it is. Let us go find her."

They hunted up Mrs. Willis who listened interestedly to what they had to tell. "The old Topham house," she said when they had finished. "It belonged to two sisters, Miss Nancy and Miss Tabitha Topham. These two lived together for years, but finally they quarreled and each vowed that she would never speak to the other. They died within a few weeks of one another and there were no nearer heirs than distant cousins who have never troubled themselves to look after the place. Old Nathan Holcomb was the nearest neighbor and he used to keep things pretty well secured, but since his death the place has been going to rack and ruin more and more each year. There is some fine, old furniture there and it is a wonder everything in the house has not been stolen before now, but as the place has the reputation of being haunted it has been more or less avoided. I never heard of its being open to the public and I shall speak to some one who will see that it is made secure. Even if it is not valued by the present owners, it should not be left for tramps or any chance vagrant to make use of."

Edna looked down at the comb which she still held in her hand. "What must I do about this?" she asked.

"You must take it back to-morrow and restore it to its place," her mother told her. "I am perfectly sure that not one of you little girls dreamed that she had no right to take the things, but nevertheless they were not yours, and I am very certain that the other mothers will say the same thing."

"Reliance has a lovely card-case," said Edna, regretfully. "She was going to give it to you, grandma."

Mrs. Willis smiled. "I appreciate the spirit, but she must not be allowed to keep it, my dear."

Edna's face sobered. She felt much crestfallen. She wondered what Reba's father would say.

She did not have long to wait to find this out for after supper came two young callers who sidled in with rather shamefaced expressions. "Suppose you take Reba and Esther Ann into the dining-room for a little while,"

suggested grandma encouragingly. "Little folks like to chatter about their own affairs, I well know."

Edna shot her grandma a grateful look and soon was closeted with the little girls. "Oh, Edna, what did your mother say?" began Esther Ann.

"She said I must take back the comb, because I had no right to take it."

"That's just what my mother said," returned Esther Ann.

"My father said it's dishonest," put in Reba, "I mean dishonest to keep it. He knew we didn't mean to steal."

"Oh, Reba, don't say such a dreadful word," said Edna in distress.

"It would be stealing, you know, if we were to keep the things,"

continued Reba bluntly. "My father says you couldn't call it by any other name, and that to break into a house is burglary."

This sounded even more dreadful, though Esther Ann relieved the speech of its effect by saying: "But we didn't break in; we just opened the door and walked in. There wouldn't have been anyone to answer if we had knocked."

"That makes me feel kind of s.h.i.+very," remarked Edna. "I would rather not go back, but I suppose we shall have to."

"Yes, we shall have to," Reba made the statement determinedly.

Therefore, it was with anything but an adventurous spirit that the four little girls went on their errand the next afternoon. There was no poking into nooks and corners this time, but straight to the bureau went they. Solemnly was each article returned to the box from which it was taken. Silently they tip-toed down the dusty stairs and through the silent rooms to the outer air where each drew a sigh of relief. Esther Ann was the first to speak. "There, that's done," she said. "I don't ever want to go there again."

"Nor I."

"Nor I."

"Nor I," chanted the other three.

CHAPTER VII

THE MILL STREAM

On their way home from the old house, the four girls saw Alcinda approaching. "Don't let's say anything to her about where we've been,"

said Esther Ann.

"No, don't let's," returned Reba; "you know she didn't want to go there in the first place."