Without more ado the girls hurried through the gate, up the gravel
walk and got to the porch just as the rain reached its maximum. It was
coming down now in a veritable torrent.
"Queer the people here don't shut their door," remarked Betty.
"And see, the rain is coming in the parlor window," added Amy.
"Maybe they don't know it," suggested Grace. "Oh, the wind is blowing the
rain right in on us!" she cried.
"I wonder if it would be impertinent to walk in?" suggested Mollie.
"We at least can knock and ask--they won't refuse," said Betty. "And
really, with the wind this way, the porch is no protection at all."
She rapped on the open door. There was no response and she tapped
again--louder, to make it heard above the noise of the storm.
"That's queer--maybe no one is at home," said Grace.
"They would hardly go off and leave the house all open, when it looked so
much like rain," declared Amy. "Suppose we call to them? Maybe they are
upstairs."
The girls were now getting so wet that they decided not to stand on
ceremony. They went into the hall, through the front door. There was a
parlor on one side, and evidently a sitting room on the other side of the
central hall.
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