Thankful's Inheritance by Joseph Crosby Lincoln
page 19 of 440 (04%)
page 19 of 440 (04%)
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empty house. Suppose--Oh, SUPPOSE there were people living here! What
would they say to us?" For a moment Thankful was staggered. Then her common-sense came to her rescue. "Nonsense!" she said, firmly. "A house with folks livin' in it has somethin' in the dinin'-room besides dust. Anyhow, it's easy enough to settle that question. Where's that door lead to?" She marched across the floor and threw open the door to which she had pointed. "Humph!" she sniffed. "Best front parlor. The whole shebang smells shut up and musty enough, but there's somethin' about a best parlor smell that would give it away any time. Phew! I can almost smell wax wreaths and hair-cloth, even though they have been took away. No, this is an empty house all right, but I'll make good and sure for your sake, Emily. Ain't there any stairs to this old rattle-trap? Oh, yes, here's the front hall. Hello! Hello, up there! Hi-i!" She was shouting up the old-fashioned staircase. Her voice echoed above with the unmistakable echo of empty rooms. Only that echo and the howl of the wind and roar of rain answered her. She came back to the apartment where she had left her cousin. "It's all right, Emily," she said. "We're the only passengers aboard the derelict. Now let's see if we can't be more comf'table. You set down on that sofa and rest. I've got an idea in my head." |
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