"Do! Well, I think if nothing better is to be obtained in the town, we will
do as some of our ancient ancestors have done before us, we will 'lodge
without, in the streets,'" and gathering up the wraps she walked out of the
house, closely followed by Elsie, and more uncertainly by Lancy.
The case was becoming serious, but it had its ludicrous side as well, which
reached its height when Dexie stood on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
Throwing the wraps over her left arm, she raised her right hand high toward
heaven, and exclaimed in dramatic tones:
"Tell me, ye winged winds, that round my pathway roam,
Is there no hotel in Truro where the landlord sells no rum?"
And the answer came, not from the winds she had apostrophized, but from an
open window that she had not observed; and the answer was:
"Fair lady, there is none."
"There! I told you that someone would hear you, Dexie," said Lancy, vexed,
yet amused at her behavior.
But Dexie stood as if unable to move, and gazed at the open window in
astonishment.
But the owner of the voice now appeared at the door, and Dexie drew a sigh
of relief as she saw what a good-natured, smiling face it was that looked
into her own.
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