Betty went to the English girl at once and put an arm about her shoulders.

“Did you see something in the paper that frightened you, Ida?” she asked.

“It doesn’t frighten me,” replied the girl, with trembling lips.  “See.  Read it.  This time I am sure it is my aunt.  See!”

Uncle Dick joined the group about the excited girl.  Her color had come back into her cheeks now and her eyes shone.  She was usually so self-contained and quiet that Mr. Gordon now thought perhaps they had not really appreciated how much the hope of joining her aunt meant to Ida.

“Read it aloud, Betty,” said her uncle quietly.

“Oh!  Here’s her name!  It must be right this time!” cried Betty; and then she obeyed her uncle’s request: 

“’The Toscanelli Opera Company, Salvatore Toscanelli manager, which has made a very favorable impression among the music lovers of the East and Middle West during the last few months, will sail for Rio Janeiro on Sunday on the San Salvador of the Blue Star Line.  The company has been augmented by the engagement of several soloists, among them Madam Ida Bellethorne, the English soprano, who has made many friends here during the past few years.’”

“Day after to-morrow!” exclaimed Bobby, the first to speak.  “Why! maybe if you can go to New York you will see her, Ida.”

“Day after to-morrow,” repeated Ida, anxiously.  “Can I get to New York by that time?  I—­I have a little money——­”

“Don’t worry about the money, honey,” Betty broke in.  “You will have to start early in the morning, won’t she, Uncle Dick?”

“If she is to reach the steamer in time, yes,” said the gentleman rather doubtfully.

“Oh! if I don’t get there what shall I do?” cried Ida.  “Rio Janeiro, why, that is in South America!  It would cost hundreds of your dollars to pay my passage there.  I must get to Aunt Ida before she sails.  I must!”

“Now, now!” put in Mrs. Canary soothingly.  “Don’t worry about it, child.  That will not help.  We will get you to the train to-morrow——­”

“If we can,” interrupted her husband softly.

He beckoned Uncle Dick away and they went out through the hall to look at the weather, leaving the young folks and Mrs. Canary to encourage the English girl.

Outside the two men did not find much in the appearance of the weather to encourage them.  It was raining softly, for there was no wind; and it was freezing as fast as it fell.

“And that old shack-a-bones I keep here during the winter isn’t sharpened.  Ought to be, I know.  But he isn’t,” grumbled Jonathan Canary.

“No use to think of snowshoes if it freezes, Jack,” rejoined Mr. Gordon.  “It is too far to the railroad anyway.  I doubt if these children get to school on time.”

“Telephone wires are down again.  I just tried to get Cliffdale before dinner.  This is a wilderness up here, Dick.”