The house, when they came to it, was a great homey affair, with many rich rugs and pictures that did not, however, dazzle by their magnificence but seemed to fit into the general atmosphere of comfort. Peggy, who had never visited in so wonderful a place before, danced from attic to cellar, as light as thistledown, and sent the whole family into roars of appreciative laughter at her naïve and hearty approval of it all.
"You're home, now, Peggy," Katherine said.
And Peggy nodded happily. "Why, of course," was her comment. "It certainly feels like it, and I _love_ every darling member of your perfectly grand family, Katherine Foster."
Two days after their arrival the Fosters had a Christmas party for them, and for the first time in her life Peggy helped to trim a Christmas tree, and wrap up such an enormous number of tiny tissue-covered bundles that her fingers ached from tying string.
There was the grand march around the tree, the gorgeous Christmas supper, and afterward dancing and dancing and dancing until Peggy's head whirled and her very heart beat time to music.
On Christmas day there came for each of the girls a fascinating little package bearing the Huntington address on the outside. Katherine's was a woven gold chain with a delicate and beautiful pearl pendant attached, and Peggy's was a watch with a good sized diamond sparkling in its handwrought gold.
"Oh--how _lovely_," breathed she in ecstatic surprise, and then suddenly her face clouded. "We forgot to send him a thing," she reminded contritely.
"Never mind," comforted Katherine, "we'll go to the clairvoyant and help get his grandson back for him and I guess that will mean more to him than any little set of cuff links or knitted tie we might have given him."
"So we will," mused Peggy, "do you think we could go to-morrow?"
Not the morrow, but the day before New Year's finally saw Katherine's family persuaded to let the two girls go to Madame Blakey, who had really a considerable reputation in the town for correctly reading futures in her glass of water. Not that Katherine's father and mother believed in that sort of thing, but they actually knew people who seemed to, and they could see no harm in permitting the girls to go. But when the two daring experimenters with things yet to come had been conveyed by James, the chauffeur, in their big touring car to the residence of Madame, they found all the blinds closed and no sign of life about the place anywhere. A woman from next door told them that Madame Blakey had gone away on her vacation to visit relatives.