“And how it does rain!” exclaimed Amy.  “We never could have gone on in this drenching downpour.”

It was an exceedingly well-ordered house, and the girls, who had been wisely trained at home, had no difficulty in locating an ample supply of food.  They invaded the cellar, and found plenty of canned fruit, tomatoes and other things.  There were hams, shoulders of bacon, eggs, and some fresh meat.  Great loaves of evidently home-made bread were in the pantry.

“We shall dine like kings!” cried Grace.

“Better than some kings,” said Betty.  “Only I don’t see any chocolates, Grace,” and she laughed.

“Smarty!” was the other’s retort, but she laughed also.

Such a jolly meal as it was!  The girls, once they had decided in their minds to make the best of a queer situation, felt more at home.  They laughed and joked, and when supper was over, the dishes washed, and the lamps lighted, they gathered in the old-fashioned parlor, and Betty played on a melodeon that gave forth rather doleful sounds.

However, she managed to extract some music from its yellowed keys, and the girls sang some simple little part-songs.

“Too bad we haven’t an audience,” murmured Grace, as they ended up with “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.”

“The rain is audience enough,” spoke Mollie.  “As for someone’s Bonnie lying over the ocean—­the yard is a perfect lake!” she went on, looking from the window.

“It would have been foolish to go on,” said Betty.  “I am glad we have such a comfortable place.”

And comfortable it certainly was.  The house, while a typical country residence, was very convenient and well ordered.  Careful people lived in it—­that was easy to see.  And as the rain pelted down, the girls sat about, the cat purring contentedly near them, and a cheerful fire burning on the hearth in the parlor.

“I hope they won’t make a fuss about the liberties we are taking,” said Mollie, putting some extra sticks on the blaze.  “Some persons never open their parlors in the country.”

“These people don’t seem of that sort,” said Amy.  “At least, the parlor was open enough when we closed the windows.”

“And how it rains!” murmured Grace, with a little nervous shiver.

“Suppose the people come back in the middle of the night?” asked Mollie.  “They’ll think we are burglars.”

“We must leave a light burning,” decided Betty, “and a note near it explaining why we came in and that we are asleep upstairs.  Then they will know.”

That was decided on as the best plan, and it was carried out.  The girls went to bed, but it was some time before they got to sleep, though finally the steady fall of rain wooed them to slumber.  No one entered during the night, and the morning came, still retaining the rain.

“Will it ever clear?” asked Mollie, hopelessly.

“The wind is changing,” spoke Betty.  “I think we can soon start.”