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Hortense's father put the letter back into its envelope and handed it across the table to her mother.
Hortense knew very well what Papa and Mamma were talking about, for she was ten years old and as smart as most girls and boys of that age. But she went on eating her breakfast and pretending not to hear. Papa and Mamma were going a long way off to Australia, provided Grandmother and Grandfather would care for Hortense in their absence. So Mamma had written, and this was the answer.
"Would you like to stay with Grandfather and Grandmother while Papa and Mamma are away?" her mother asked.
Hortense would like it very much, for she had never been in her grandfather's house. Grandfather and Grandmother had always visited her at Christmas and other times, and she had imagined wonderful stories of the house that she had never seen. All her father would tell of it when she asked him was that it was large and old-fashioned. Once only she had heard him say to her mother, "It would be a strange house for a child."
Strange houses were her delight. In a strange house anything might happen. Always in fairy tales and wonder stories, the houses were deliriously strange.
So when her mother asked her the question, Hortense answered promptly, "Yes, ma'm."
"I'm afraid you'll have no one to play with," Mamma said, "but there will be nice books to read and a large yard to enjoy. Besides, the house itself is very unusual. If you were an imaginative child it might be a little--but then you aren't imaginative."
"Yes, ma'm," said Hortense.
She supposed Mamma was right. If she were really imaginative, no doubt she would have seen a fairy long ago. But though she looked in every likely spot, never had she seen any except once, and that time she wasn't sure.
"My little girl is sensible and not likely to be easily frightened at any unusual or strange--," her father began.
"I shouldn't, Henry," Mamma interrupted swiftly.
"No, perhaps not," Papa agreed.
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