Nancy found Rosa, as she suspected, disappointed and even worried.

“It was the strangest thing,” Rosa explained, “every time we thought we had found Orilla she just seemed to disappear. Of course she didn’t, but on the lake there are so many turns, and ins and outs and, being in the boat, we stayed on the water. I suppose Orilla was on land,” she finished sullenly.

“Why was it so important for you to see her to-day?” Nancy asked, innocently enough.

“I had a message for her, and that should have reached her to-day,” replied Rosa. But she did not go into details and Nancy felt that she could not question further. However, she did try to reassure Nancy that Orilla would probably be around before nightfall.

“I hope so,” Rosa said, “if not, I simply246 don’t know what I shall do. I went to all her woodland haunts that I know of, and land knows she’s got enough of them, but there wasn’t even a trace to show that human footprints had been over the ground lately. Oh, dear, isn’t it awful to be a crank? Orilla is just a crank, and I tell you I’m about sick of her ways,” Rosa pouted. “But I have to get some of the loose ends tied up before I can wash my hands of it, as Margot would say.”

“And there she is,” Nancy reminded Rosa, for at that moment Margot was coming down the path at a brisk rate.

“On the war path,” Rosa remarked. “I’ve got to surprise her with some news. Let me see! Oh, I’ll tell her about a big sale of linens down at Daws,” and forthwith Rosa rushed up the path to proclaim the glad tidings to the unsuspecting Margot—or the Margot who was pretending to be unsuspecting.

From that moment until after dinner and until almost nightfall, the cousins had not a moment to themselves, for company came, and Rosa had to entertain. Nancy also247 helped out, the visitors being most interested in her simple reports from the neighboring state. When they were leaving (they were the Drydens from the Weirs and were staying at a hotel in Craggy Bluff) Rosa drove in town with them to bring some mail to the post office, but Nancy declined to go. Rosa was to meet Dell Durand and drive back with her, and as Dell had talked to Nancy on the phone and assured her she would be back before dark (all this in coaxing Nancy to go), there seemed no danger of delay for Rosa.

When they had all gone Nancy felt herself free at last to take her favorite stroll along the lake front. The sunset was glorious; golds, purples, greens and ashes of roses, in hues too brilliant to be so tersely described. Is there anything which can beggar description as can a sunset on that great, majestic lake! Words cannot tell of it, no more than the mist can veil it.

“It looks as if heaven were leaking joy,” thought Nancy, as she watched the descending beauty.

248 Thinking of her mother, of Ted and of dear Manny, as she did every evening, this being a part of her filial love and devotion, Nancy gazed and wondered, until suddenly a step near her startled her from her reverie.

It was Orilla!

“Oh!” exclaimed Nancy. “I didn’t see you coming—”

“No, one can’t. I have so many secret little paths around here,” spoke Orilla, and Nancy noticed that her voice was very low, subdued, and her words rather well chosen.

“But I’m so glad you came,” Nancy hurried to add. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, all day.”

“I’ve been away, to the city, and I’m so tired!” With a sigh she sank down upon the lake-side bench. “I believe I would die if I had to live in a city,” she murmured.

“It is dreadfully stuffy after air like this,” agreed Nancy. “But you are not sick, are you, Orilla?” she asked anxiously, for Orilla did seem very unlike herself.

“No, I guess not. I have an awful headache249 but—don’t let us talk about sickness,” Orilla broke off suddenly. “I have something more important to talk of to-night.”

“First, Orilla,” interrupted Nancy, “won’t you please let me give you your little bag? It has worried me—”

“If you’ll only keep it a few more days, Nancy—”

“But why? Shouldn’t your mother take care of it for you?” questioned Nancy. She had been determined to get rid of the treasure and this was her chance.

“Mother?” Orilla’s voice showed disapproval of that idea, most emphatically. “No, mother is good and has given me much freedom, but she doesn’t quite understand me, you see, Nancy,” finished the girl with one more of those weary, heavy sighs.

Before Nancy could speak again Orilla had risen and was leading the way to the other end of the spacious grounds.

“Come this way,” she said. “We won’t meet anybody and I must not delay too long.”

250 “But Rosa may be along—”

“Let me tell you alone, Nancy, please,” pleaded Orilla. “Then you may tell Rosa if you want to. I’m tired of secrets, tired of being hated and tired of fighting. Until you showed some friendliness for me, I haven’t ever remembered kindness except from mother, and, well, just a few others,” finished Orilla, evasively.

She was hurrying toward the rear of the big house and Nancy was following. The path she picked out was quite new to Nancy, who thought she had discovered every little nook and corner of the big summer place, but this was a mere strip of clearance, tunneled in under heavy wild grape vines that grew clamorously over high and low shrubbery, and even climbed into the biggest wild cherry tree.

Neither girl spoke for some minutes. Then Orilla asked Nancy if she liked Fernlode.

“Why, yes,” Nancy replied, “I love it.”

“So do I,” declared Orilla sharply, “and you know they—put me out!”

251 “Oh, no, Orilla, they didn’t do that,” Nancy hurried to correct her. “When Uncle Frederic married—”

“I know all that, Nancy, b............