"He isn't there! Aunt Lois isn't there! We're alone in this studio, and
I'd rather be alone ANYWHERE than here!" she cried, and they shuddered
when the vacant rooms echoed her voice.
"But we don't have to STAY here!" cried Polly, "come! It's getting late,
and we must hurry, or we'll be afraid to go down the streets alone."
"We CAN'T go!" cried Rose, "that's just the horrid part of it!"
"WHY can't we?"
As she asked the question Polly sprang to her feet, and clasping Rose's
hand, drew her toward the door.
"It's no use, Polly," said Rose, "We CAN'T go home, because I don't know
the way!"
Polly stared at her for a second in surprise.
"Why you've been here before with your Aunt Lois," she said.
"I know I have," Rose replied, "but I haven't noticed just how we came.
It's a long walk, and don't you remember how many different streets we
turned into, before we got here? I tell you truly, Polly, I don't know
the FIRST THING about going home!"
"Then we must wait here 'til they come for us," said Polly, "Oh hark!
What was that?"
Together they sank upon the little divan, and now they spoke only in
whispers.
"I don't know what the noise was, but it was in that other room. When I
had looked at the clock, and I turned to come back, I HAD to pass the
big suit of armor. Polly, I knew there wasn't anyone in it, but all the
same I thought its eyeholes looked at me!"
"Oh--o--o! Didn't that sound as if his iron glove rattled against his
shield?" was Polly's startled whisper.
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