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Authors: Kathryn Kenny
Tags: Suspense
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Lincoln had bought.
“Why so glum, Trixie?” he asked. “Are you getting tired?”
“Oh, no! I’m fine!” she answered, her face brightening. “I was only thinking about Rosewood Hall. Do you suppose we’ll find it’s one of the lucky places that someone has loved enough to preserve like this?”
“I hope so, but we may not even find it, you know,” Jim replied. “As Mr. Lynch said, many beautiful old homes were either burned during the war or fell into ruins afterward.”
“I’ll simply
die
if we don’t find
something
left at Rosewood,” Trixie said.
For answer Jim patted her shoulder and they hurried on to join the others in the next room.
Chapter 7
“Get Out of Here!”
Williamsburg is only a hundred and fifty miles from Washington, so by noon the next day everyone was settled into the comfortable colonial cottage near the Inn. Trixie, of course, was eager to drive out to Cliveden without delay, but she cheerfully fell in with the plan of the others to walk around the old streets of the town and become familiar with the layout before going through any of the buildings. They had great fun outside the Public Gaol, taking turns being locked in the pillory and the stocks. Honey had brought her camera and took pictures of them and the “gaoler,” a guide dressed in colonial garb. The whole village occupied an area only a mile and a half wide, so even though they walked slowly and absorbed all the sights, they were through with their tour early in the afternoon.
“Don’t you think we might drive out to Cliveden this afternoon and just have a look at the place?” Trixie asked. “We can easily get back in time for dinner.”
“Why not?” Di asked eagerly. “Daddy and Mummy will be at a tea until six, so we’ll have plenty of time.”
They stopped at the large brick restoration of the building which from 1699 to 1779 had served as the capitol of the Virginia colony and inquired the way to Cliveden from one of the guides.
“It’s not far out on the dirt road south of here,” he told them. “But you’ll have to watch out or you’ll drive right through without knowing it. I don’t reckon there’s more than a couple of hundred people in the whole township, and they’re pretty well scattered.”
“That doesn’t sound too promising, does it?” Honey asked as they walked back to their cottage to pick up the station wagon and leave a note for Mr. and Mrs. Lynch.
“But there’s bound to be a post office in the town,” Trixie answered. “Maybe someone there will know where Rosewood Hall is.” She tried to keep the note of discouragement out of her voice as she said this.
The guide had been right. Cliveden was not much bigger than the dot on the map in the geography book. If Trixie hadn’t happened to notice a rusty sign, INCORPORATED VILLAGE OF CLIVEDEN, SPEED LIMIT 15 MILES AN HOUR , they might well have driven right through.
“Wow! Fifteen miles an hour!” Jim exclaimed, slowing the car to a crawl. “I bet that sign has been there since the first horseless carriage came into town.”
“Watch out for the livestock!” Brian cautioned as a rawboned old cow meandered into the road.
“Looks more like dead stock to me,” Mart said with a shiver. “What a creepy town!”
There was one general store and a few houses, a boarded-up church and a one-pump gas station. But as they passed the store Trixie caught sight of a small sign in the window: UNITED STATES POST OFFICE .
“Gleeps!” she cried. “Back up, Jim, or turn around or something. We’re on the right track at last.”
“Hey, watch out, Trix!” Brian yelled as Trixie opened the door and jumped out almost before the car had come to a halt. “Do you want to lose a leg?”
His warning was disregarded as his sister raced up the rickety steps into the store.
“Let’s stay in the car,” Honey suggested. “If there
is
a Rosewood Hall, she should be the first one to hear about it, and if there
isn’t
, our being
“Why so glum, Trixie?” he asked. “Are you getting tired?”
“Oh, no! I’m fine!” she answered, her face brightening. “I was only thinking about Rosewood Hall. Do you suppose we’ll find it’s one of the lucky places that someone has loved enough to preserve like this?”
“I hope so, but we may not even find it, you know,” Jim replied. “As Mr. Lynch said, many beautiful old homes were either burned during the war or fell into ruins afterward.”
“I’ll simply
die
if we don’t find
something
left at Rosewood,” Trixie said.
For answer Jim patted her shoulder and they hurried on to join the others in the next room.
Chapter 7
“Get Out of Here!”
Williamsburg is only a hundred and fifty miles from Washington, so by noon the next day everyone was settled into the comfortable colonial cottage near the Inn. Trixie, of course, was eager to drive out to Cliveden without delay, but she cheerfully fell in with the plan of the others to walk around the old streets of the town and become familiar with the layout before going through any of the buildings. They had great fun outside the Public Gaol, taking turns being locked in the pillory and the stocks. Honey had brought her camera and took pictures of them and the “gaoler,” a guide dressed in colonial garb. The whole village occupied an area only a mile and a half wide, so even though they walked slowly and absorbed all the sights, they were through with their tour early in the afternoon.
“Don’t you think we might drive out to Cliveden this afternoon and just have a look at the place?” Trixie asked. “We can easily get back in time for dinner.”
“Why not?” Di asked eagerly. “Daddy and Mummy will be at a tea until six, so we’ll have plenty of time.”
They stopped at the large brick restoration of the building which from 1699 to 1779 had served as the capitol of the Virginia colony and inquired the way to Cliveden from one of the guides.
“It’s not far out on the dirt road south of here,” he told them. “But you’ll have to watch out or you’ll drive right through without knowing it. I don’t reckon there’s more than a couple of hundred people in the whole township, and they’re pretty well scattered.”
“That doesn’t sound too promising, does it?” Honey asked as they walked back to their cottage to pick up the station wagon and leave a note for Mr. and Mrs. Lynch.
“But there’s bound to be a post office in the town,” Trixie answered. “Maybe someone there will know where Rosewood Hall is.” She tried to keep the note of discouragement out of her voice as she said this.
The guide had been right. Cliveden was not much bigger than the dot on the map in the geography book. If Trixie hadn’t happened to notice a rusty sign, INCORPORATED VILLAGE OF CLIVEDEN, SPEED LIMIT 15 MILES AN HOUR , they might well have driven right through.
“Wow! Fifteen miles an hour!” Jim exclaimed, slowing the car to a crawl. “I bet that sign has been there since the first horseless carriage came into town.”
“Watch out for the livestock!” Brian cautioned as a rawboned old cow meandered into the road.
“Looks more like dead stock to me,” Mart said with a shiver. “What a creepy town!”
There was one general store and a few houses, a boarded-up church and a one-pump gas station. But as they passed the store Trixie caught sight of a small sign in the window: UNITED STATES POST OFFICE .
“Gleeps!” she cried. “Back up, Jim, or turn around or something. We’re on the right track at last.”
“Hey, watch out, Trix!” Brian yelled as Trixie opened the door and jumped out almost before the car had come to a halt. “Do you want to lose a leg?”
His warning was disregarded as his sister raced up the rickety steps into the store.
“Let’s stay in the car,” Honey suggested. “If there
is
a Rosewood Hall, she should be the first one to hear about it, and if there
isn’t
, our being
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