Two seconds--and her journey would be over, her adventure begun. Again that apprehension mounted sweeping before it even her hope of the big house on an eminence. She was scarcely conscious of anything they were passing. The dusk had deepened, enveloping them like a heavy veil. She heard her companion say: "This is Sunset Lane." Then, with a great jolt, the ancient equipage stopped. "Here we are--and there's Aunt Achsa watching for us!" They were so close to the house that Sidney almost could have jumped from the step of the carriage to the threshold. All about her she felt rather than saw crowding flowers. And in the open door silhouetted against a glow of lamplight waited a very small, brown old lady. Ascha Green fluttered out to meet Sidney and touched the girl with shy hands. "Well, well, you're here. Don't seem true. Let old Achsa look at you, child. Annie's girl. Come in. Come right in. I expect you're tuckered out and hungry, too. Lavender, come and meet your new cousin." Sidney's glance shot across the room to the boy who huddled back of the stove, regarding her with shy dark eyes. And as quickly it dropped before what she saw. Ascha Green, watching, sensed her involuntary shudder. "He's strange," Aunt Achsa hurried to explain, a tremble in her voice, "but he'll make friends fast 'nough. Goodness knows he ain't talked of much else than a new cousin's comin' sence we got your letter. This is your room, Sidney, right here handy and mebbe you'll like to wash up while I put supper on the table. Here, take this candle; it's darkened up fast." The "boarder" had already carried Sidney's bag into the little room that opened directly out of the parlor. Aunt Achsa, after bustling her in, closed the door quickly between them. It was the smallest room Sidney had ever seen. Why, she could reach out from just where she was standing and touch the ceiling or anyone of the walls. And it was the neatest. The small panes of the window twinkled at her between starched muslin curtains, coarse but immaculate towels covered the washstand and the highboy that stood at each side of the window. Another white towel Achsa had tacked on the wall behind the washbowl and under the oval mirror. A cushion, much faded from many washings, she had tied to the back of the straight rush-bottomed chair at the foot of the bed. A smell of strong soap hung in the air.