“But can we go away and leave the house alone?” asked Amy.  “Ought we not to stay until the owners come back?”

“How can we tell when they will come back?” demanded Grace.  “Besides, I must let my sister know why we were detained.”

“I suppose we will have to go on,” said Betty.  “If the persons living here didn’t care about deserting their place we ought not to.”

“But what will they think when they come in and see that someone has been here?” asked Mollie.

“We must leave a note explaining, and also some money for the food we took,” decided Betty.  “Or we can stop at the next house and tell how it was.”

They debated these two plans for some time, finally deciding on part of both.  That is, they would leave a note and a sum of money that they figured would pay for what they had eaten.  They made no deduction for closing the windows against the rain.  They would also stop at the nearest house and explain matters to the residents there, asking them to communicate with the occupants of the deserted house.

When this point had been reached, and when the note had been written, and wrapped around the money, being placed in a conspicuous place in the front hall, the girls were ready to leave.

The rain had slackened, and there was a promise of fair weather.  Breakfast had been partaken of, and the dishes washed.  The house was as nearly like it had been as was possible to leave it.

“Well, let’s start,” proposed Grace.

They went towards the front door, and as they opened it they saw advancing up the walk a lady with a large umbrella, a large carpet bag, wearing a large bonnet and enveloped in the folds of a large shawl.  She walked with determined steps and as she came on she glanced toward the house.  As she saw the four girls on the porch she quickened her pace.

“Girls, we’re relieved,” said Betty, in a low voice.  “Here comes the owner, or I’m much mistaken!”

CHAPTER XIX

A LITTLE LOST GIRL

“What are you doing here?  Who are you?  How long have you been here?  Is Mrs. Black in there?”

These questions were fairly shot at the girls, who stood in rather embarrassed silence on the porch.  The sun was now breaking through the clouds in warm splendor, and they took this for a good omen.

“Well, why don’t you answer?” demanded the rather aggressive woman.  “I can’t see what you are doing here!”

She stuck her umbrella in the soft earth along the graveled walk.

“We—­we came in to shut the windows,” said Amy, gently.

A change came over the woman’s face.  She frowned—­she smiled.  She turned about and looked toward the nearest house.  Then she spoke.

“Do you mean to tell me,” she demanded, “that after I called her on the telephone, Martha Black didn’t come over, shut my windows, lock up my house, and feed the cat?  Didn’t she?”