Everything was so still, but Nora was not lonely--her own reflections kept her such noisy company that isolation had no terror for her. Just outside the cedar grove a strip of road waited for traffic. Few persons pa.s.sed, but even woodlands must have roads, just as skies must have clouds.

Feeling more at home in her costume every moment, Nora stepped proudly outside the grove into the clearance. A fat little hoptoad crossed the path, but otherwise the prince was lord of all he surveyed. The whole world was busy, evidently, and even a visiting prince attracted no attention in the wild woodlands.

Nora wanted to whistle. She felt a prince, with hands in pockets inspecting his domain, would surely whistle, but she had never made much of a success at the wind song--it was Barbara who did all the whistling for both. Still, she tried now, and the sound wasn't any worse than the cracked call of the blue-jay, except that it did not carry so far.

What would Barbara say to this game of characters? A companion would add to the possibilities of good times, Nora secretly admitted, but what companion could she find in these wilds?

Just as a sense of loneliness came creeping over her she heard the leaves somewhere crackle. The next moment a girl appeared a few paces up the road, and called to her quickly: "Oh, I say boy! Have you seen the Girl Scouts----"

The voice stopped as suddenly as it had started. The girl in uniform looked so surprised, Nora was conscious of scrutiny, even at the distance between them. She turned her head instinctively and so evaded a direct look; but presently the girl called again:

"I am looking for the girls who are going over to the Ledge. Did you happen to see them pa.s.s this way?"

"No," faltered Nora, in a voice not her own. "I just came along. I'm looking for a car----"

"Oh, I saw one. It drove down the turn----"

"Thanks," jerked out Nora, taking the cue to escape, and waving her hand in lieu of further conversation. She dodged behind the heavy elderberry bush and almost gasped in fright. What would a Girl Scout think of her in such a costume? Of course, she had no possible opportunity of seeing her face, and she surely could never recognize her again. Making positive she could get back to the Nest without again stepping out into the roadway, Nora sped back as quickly as her feet could carry her. It was always these Scouts; a sense of humiliation was now added to that of dislike. Would they all talk about her? Perhaps make fun of her or think her odd and foolish?

Too inexperienced to realize that the entire blame was her own, Nora crept up to the flap-jack path that led directly to the cottage door.

Here she was stopped again, for Vita sat out by the big stump, either counting or selecting something from her ap.r.o.n. So engrossed was she in her task she did not hear Nora's footfall, and this gave the "prince"

another chance to escape detection. She darted back into the arbor and waited. The only other way to enter the house was at front and she might meet almost anyone in that way.

Her game was losing its charm. She would have given much to be free of the finery and garbed again in her own simple clothes. It was rather mortifying to be considered queer, and that one saving grace, a sense of humor, was entirely lacking in the girl's make-up. Otherwise she might have jumped down from a tree and frightened Vita out of her wits, thus making a lark out of a difficulty.

She waited impatiently. What could Vita be doing that so held her attention? Then the attic memories flashed back to Nora's mind and she wondered.

"Cousin Ted leaves too much to that maid," she was deciding. "I might be able to help by keeping a lookout."

But for what? Vita was surely trustworthy and even extremely kind to Nora, the intruder.

A burr p.r.i.c.ked the knee that refused to hold fast to the buckled finery.

It must have been rather a nuisance to dress like that. Nora rolled the band tighter and lost her fancy hat in the effort.

Voices!

Girls' laughter. The Scouts, of course, and coming back toward the cottage!

Without waiting to consider Vita's opinion, Nora sprang from her hiding place and darted up the path into the cottage.

Voices within as well as without!

Cousin Ted was back from the woods and had company. How could Nora reach her room without being seen?

She crouched behind the kitchen cabinet, hoping the voices would leave the hall and enter the living room, but, evidently, there was a reason for delay, and the big seat was right at the foot of the stairway!

Now Vita's flat slippers patted the stones and she was coming into the kitchen.

Disgusted with the entire affair, Nora turned into the back stairway.

She had never mounted those stairs, they were used only by the maid, but just now there seemed no other avenue of escape. She heard the shuffling feet of Vita as she climbed the bare treads.

They were narrow and dark, only a small window cut in an opening somewhere allowed enough light to penetrate to make sure the steps were those of stairs. A narrow landing marked the line where the second floor must be. Then there was another turn, a sort of sharp twist in the queer ladder-like climb.

Nora was too far up now to hear Vita's step in the kitchen.

"But this must lead to the attic," she reasoned. "I may as well go on up as to go--down."

Cobwebs a-plenty here. She jerked back from their tangles, fearing spiders and other crawling things.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "I do wish I had not come this way. It's so--spooky!"

At every step the darkness increased and the light dwindled. Reaching a good-sized platform, Nora stood, thankful to draw an easy breath. She could just about see that she had only one short flight of steps to go to reach a door.

"I would never have believed this house was so high," she pondered. "I feel as if I came up from a cellar to a tower."

Then, resolutely, the pilgrim started on again. Only a few steps and she found herself face to face with two doors. They were unpainted and each stood at angles from the landing.

"Which?" she asked instinctively; for, while she wanted to reach the attic, she was careful to remember which way she had come in this crooked, gloomy place. Besides this, the attic was a mysterious part of that pretty house, Nora realized.

"It must be all right to go in here--all of the rooms are ours and Cousin Ted said they were all kept clean."

With this caution she pushed open one of the unpainted doors and stepped inside.

She gasped! The place was in almost total darkness!

CHAPTER VII

CAP TO THE RESCUE

Where was she? What could be so black?

Nora gasped--it was so stifling. Fumbling in the strange place her hand found the door and as she pressed against it she heard it shut!

"Oh mercy!" she exclaimed aloud. "I'm shut in this awful place!"

Now her eyes could make out the rafters. It was the attic, but what part of it? The faintest gleam of light breaking in from above followed the rough beams. The frightened girl fell back breathing hard and feeling faint. To faint in the attic! Surely that would be romantic! But she didn't want to faint all alone up there and maybe die and not be found for years, as she had read happened once to a bride who went up to look for her grandmother's quilt.

She was so dizzy. She really must sit down. Not even a hazy fear of rats roused her, for it was unbearably hot and stuffy.

"O-o-o-h!"

That was the end of Nora for the time being. She succ.u.mbed to the first faint she had ever performed, and there was no one to see her, no one to rescue her, not one even to know where she was!

Such a little prince!