She tip-toed through the hall and opened the door on the right. Accustomed now to the prevailing dimness, her eyes swept immediately to the old fireplace. The marble mantel stood out in all its purity against the dark wall; age had given a mellow lustre to its glossy surface. Nancy, remembering Webb's story about that Anne Leavitt who, ages ago had placed it there, went to it and touched it reverently. "H-a-p-p-y H-o-u-s-e," she spelled softly, her finger tracing the letters graven into the marble. Doubtless it had come across the sea on one of those slow-sailing ships of long ago--that other Anne Leavitt had waited impatiently months and months for it! Had that Anne Leavitt, like poor old Aunt Sabrina, worried and fussed over Leavitt traditions? Of course not--she had _made_ them. A curiosity seized Nancy to find B'lindy. Webb had said she knew everything. She must be somewhere beyond that last closed door in the long hallway--the omelette had come from that direction. Under Nancy's pressure the door opened into a pantry and beyond, in a big, sunny kitchen, shiny in its spotlessness, stood B'lindy before a table, putting the last touches to a pie. She turned at the sound of Nancy's step. Nancy paused in the doorway. "May I come in?" she asked. "Are you B'lindy?" She imitated Webb's abbreviation. "Yes," the woman at the table answered shortly. "And you're the niece." She gave Nancy a long, steady look. "Ain't a bit like a Leavitt's I can see! Miss Sabriny would have you come, I hope you'll like it." "The hateful creature," thought Nancy. Why couldn't _some one_ in Happy House act natural and kind and jolly? Like Miss Sabrina, B'lindy was tall and almost as old; her forbidding manner came not from a Roman nose but from heavy brows that frowned down over deep-set eyes--eyes that pierced in their keenness. Like Miss Sabrina she had a certain dignity, too, which seemed to set her apart from her fellow creatures--the result, no doubt, as Nancy thought, of having been born in the Leavitt household. "Of course I'm going to love it. It's so--so quiet! And that omelette you made me was delicious. I was dreadfully hungry. And oh, there is so much I want to know about Happy House. Webb told me--coming here--that you knew everything. I've just gone in and looked at the old fireplace. Tell me all about that Anne Leavitt." Nancy's coaxing tone covered the fire that was within her heart. To herself she was saying: "The old iceberg--I'll thaw her out now or never!" B'lindy set her pie down; her voice warmed a little. She rested her hands on her hips and assumed what Webb would have called her "speakin' air."