“Why, he came there after us!” cried Polly, in surprise.

“Well, he had our coachman with him,” Rose replied; “he didn’t come alone!”

“That’s so,” agreed Polly; “he couldn’t be afraid with the coachman for company!”

Aunt Lois was just beginning to think that she could not bear waiting to hear from the searching party, when she heard little feet upon the piazza, the music of merry voices, and when the maid opened the door, Rose ran in, followed by Polly.

“Oh, please may I stay, ’m, to hear what happened to the two dears?” pleaded Nora.

Aunt Lois smiled assent, and then Rose, with Polly’s help, told the story of the afternoon, of their return to the studio, of the terror that seemed to fill shadowy corners when twilight came.

“And the noises!  Oh, Aunt Lois, you don’t know what strange sounds there were in that studio!  I love the pictures, and it’s beautiful there in the daylight, but I can’t forget the fright we had, and I won’t want to go there again for, oh, a long time!” said Rose.

“We’ve told you how dark and lonely it was,” added Polly, “but you’d have to hear that armor clank to know how it sounded.”

“I’m so deaf that some of the lesser noises would not have reached me, and really that is the only mercy I know of in being deaf,” Aunt Lois said.  “You’ve both been so completely frightened there, that I, too, think you would better not go there for some time.  Indeed, I wish something very bright and cheery might occur that would turn your thoughts from the studio.”

“Ye’ll not let the children go there, but if I might make so bold as to advise ye, ‘m, I’d ask ye ter let the portrait go an’ stay away from there.  The place is jist haunted, and the demons might get ye, even in daylight!” Nora had shrieked that Aunt Lois might hear.

“Nora!  Nora!  Not a word of demons or haunting!  You well know that I do not approve of any such foolish notions,” Aunt Lois replied.

Nora went back to the kitchen and there expressed her belief to the cook, that studio place was “just full of old spooks!”

CHAPTER VII

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

On the day after the one at the studio, Rose and Polly sat on the terrace, their laps filled with flowers.  Each was weaving a wreath for the other, and each was intent upon making a very beautiful one.

“Mine will be syringas and pink geraniums,” said Rose, “and, Polly Sherwood, would you ever think shadows could be so horrid as they were last night?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” said Polly, “specially when we’re out here in the sunlight.  Now, just see what I’m doing.  I’m making this wreath of pink rosebuds and mignonette.  You’ll look fine in it when it’s done.”

“So will you, Princess Polly, when you wear the wreath I’m making.  You always look like a truly princess, but you’ll look more like one than ever when you have this on.  I put syringas in it because they’re so sweet,” said Rose.