The Second Girl Detective Megapack. Julia K. Duncan

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СКАЧАТЬ A peculiar expression flashed over the woman’s face. She was silent for an instant and then she said: “You came to the wrong door. This is our quarter.”

      “And you are—”

      “Cora Sully. I take care of the house. This is my husband, Henry, and I’ll tell you right now there ain’t a lazier man alive!”

      Somewhat embarrassed at such brutal frankness, Doris and Kitty continued to edge toward the door.

      “Go around to the side door and I’ll let you in proper, else the old maids’ll be put out.” Then she added more gently: “We’re not much used to company here.”

      As the girls were about to close the door behind them, she called shrilly:

      “You can’t take the dog in!”

      Still carrying their suitcases, and with Wags trotting at their heels, Doris and Kitty made their way toward the side door. It was beginning to rain hard.

      “What a horrible woman!” Kitty shuddered. “Now, what can we do with Wags?”

      “We can’t let him run wild in the storm, that’s certain. I have an idea!”

      They had reached the shelter of the side veranda and Doris set her suitcase down and began to unfasten the strap.

      “What are you doing?” Kitty demanded.

      “I’m going to tie Wags under the porch. He’ll be out of the rain there.”

      “It’s mean of that woman not to let us take him in,” Kitty said.

      She helped her chum fix the dog, but they were forced to drag him under the porch by main force, for he was reluctant to leave them. By the time they had fastened him securely in his shelter, they were thoroughly drenched themselves.

      “What sights we are!” Doris declared. “I wonder if that woman ever will let us in?”

      “Here she comes now,” Kitty said in a low tone.

      The door swung open and Cora, wearing a clean white apron which she had donned for the occasion, ushered them into a long hall.

      “Right this way,” she directed.

      They followed her into a spacious living room, bright and cheerful, but furnished in rather prim and old-fashioned style. A fire was burning in the grate.

      “Two young ladies to see you,” Cora announced.

      The Misses Gates promptly arose and, putting aside their sewing, eagerly came forward to greet the girls. Cora took their suitcases and wraps and left them.

      “I am so glad you came,” one of the ladies said in a soft, sweet voice. “When this storm gathered so quickly, we were afraid you might be caught in it.” She smiled apologetically. “Our home isn’t as modern as it once was, but Azalea and I will try to make you comfortable here.”

      As she sank back into the restful depths of a big chair, Doris had an opportunity to study the two sisters.

      Iris and Azalea quite obviously were twins, for they looked alike and they dressed identically. Their voices, too, were similar—low, musical and soft. They looked rather frail and delicate, Doris thought, and their faces were finely chiseled like that of a cameo. They wore simple, long, white cotton dresses. Had it not been for their snow white hair, Doris would not have guessed that they had long since left their youth behind.

      If the girls had been disappointed at their first reception, they no longer had any doubt of their welcome. Azalea and Iris set them at ease by maintaining a pleasant, light conversation. It was apparent to Doris that they were both well educated, though they seemed to take little interest in modern-day topics.

      “I don’t believe they know much about what has been going on in the world for the last ten years,” Doris told herself.

      Before fifteen minutes had elapsed, she found herself quite captivated by the two ladies, and Kitty, too, had forgotten her former uneasiness.

      As the afternoon advanced, the girls found themselves more and more comfortable, looking forward to a pleasant visit.

      “No doubt you wondered why we invited you here,” Iris said after a time, addressing Doris.

      “Well, yes, I did,” she admitted.

      “It’s a long story. Azalea and I—”

      Her voice trailed off as Cora Sully appeared in the doorway.

      “Supper is served,” she announced.

      Iris arose to lead the way to the dining room.

      “The story must wait,” she said with a smile. “I know you girls are far more interested in food just now.”

      “I am a bit hungry,” acknowledged Doris with a pleasant smile, as she and Kitty followed the twins into the next room where Cora was putting the finishing touches to the table.

      Kitty kept close to her chum. Doris caught her eye. In a whisper she heard Kitty ask her about the dog outside, as she motioned toward the food—Kitty wanted Wags to be remembered.

      “Wait!” signalled Doris, as the group took seats about the table.

      But would the dog wait?

      CHAPTER VIII

      A Visitor

      Supper at the mansion was always a rather stiff and formal affair, but on this evening the tension was somewhat relaxed. The Misses Gates chatted pleasantly with the girls, making them feel entirely at their ease.

      The table had been laid with an elaborately embroidered tablecloth, of good quality but slightly yellowed with age. The dishes, the cut glass, and the silver were of the best. Two tall candles in pewter holders lighted the room. Cora Sully, fairly presentable in white cap and apron, brought the food in from the kitchen, but she served it in an indifferent fashion.

      “Cora really is an excellent cook,” Iris said half apologetically, when the woman had returned to the kitchen.

      “Yes, indeed,” Doris agreed quickly.

      She had no fault to find with the supper, for the creamed chicken was delicious, the biscuits light, the salad crisp and fresh. It was only that she had taken a dislike to Cora and wondered why the Misses Gates kept such a slouchy, sullen woman.

      “Mrs. Sully has been with us for some time,” Iris continued. “She was the daughter of our former dressmaker, but she married a man that was no good. Undoubtedly he means well but he is shiftless, and finds it hard to obtain work. We took them both in.”

      “I see,” Doris murmured.

      She scarcely knew what to reply, and Kitty was leaving the burden of the conversation to her.

      Mrs. Sully cleared away the dishes and appeared with the dessert, a steaming rich pudding which she placed before Azalea, who served it upon individual plates.

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