Hour of Enchantment / A Mystery Story for Girls

e had lived in the g

y beautiful vagabond, an accomplished dancer, but a vagabond all the same. How this slender, golden-haired child of France came to Ameri

n the top floor of an ancient rooming house, that they might come and go as they pleased

s. For many this was not a carnival at all, but a serious attempt to place before man's eye all the stupendous achieve

ers pointing to the stars we do not see because the clouds hide them. And the little rocket cars waiting there-they seem r

must hurry. Those terrible Orientals may be

ppen at all. With breath coming quick and short Petite Jeanne and Florence climbed the

breathed. "Th

rence laughed, "that y

What could one do if she were to find her

em down t

in a gymnasium. But poor little me? Bah! It is

hanged. She dragged a curious box-like trunk

t open, this box," she complain

, lo

tured a Chinese lady holding out her hand so that a f

r!" Florence was disappoint

the picture is different. I

nce was very weary. She be

y little bell!" A me

t's too bad, little old sister." She put her arms affectionately about her slender comp

me. And after that another to-morrow. I shall never forget that lo

ed, "there are many more boxes to be sol

touched the pillow tha

d not gypsies sleep when the spirit moved them to do so? Twenty hours in one long

to dash for a train. Jeanne was a real vagabond. Curled up among

r tiny living room and spread its highly colore

n some form of needlework, the picture of a god with a dozen arms and quite as many

oo bare walls of the great living

ich in France a joyous bu

an aunt). You must see certain people. You must not see others. You must not wander away alone. You must not-oh, n

ry-like across the waterfront in Chicago, she gave her chateau over to a caretaker, bade him allow all the good chil

sighed happil

you are." She was addressing the b

flight. Had she caught a sound from without, a shuffling of so

stood in the darkness, tense

e in a tumult. "Why do they

n the door and thr

how one dreads it! This box, it is ours. We have bought it. We will fi

ve the knife. The lock is strong.

in the dark, to think and think, to wait and wait for th

magic city on the shores of Lake Michigan when at last she parted the

"Now we have a new day. And to-night

slept the sleep of perfect peace, while out there by the shores of Lake Michigan