"Oh, Mrs. Crane," Henrietta had cried, on beholding the little brown person in buckskin and feathers, "do let me telephone for James to bring the carriage so I can take Rosa Marie to our house and show her to my Grandmother. I'll take the very best of care of her. And all four of the girls can come with her, so she won't be afraid." "Oh, _do_," pleaded the others. "Well, it's mild out to-day," returned Mrs. Crane, glancing out the window, "and a little fresh air won't hurt her. I guess her coat will go on right over these fixings and I can tie a veil over her head. You'll find a telephone in the library, on Mr. Black's desk." Half an hour later, the six youngsters, carefully tucked between splendid fur robes, were on their way to Mrs. Slater's. "I have a perfectly heavenly plan," said Henrietta, her black eyes sparkling with impishness. "Want to hear it?" "Of course we do," encouraged the Cottagers. "You see," explained Henrietta, "a large box came from Father this morning. It hasn't been opened yet; but Greta and Simmons don't know that. I'm going to make them think that Rosa Marie is what came in that box--it's time I cheered them up a little, for Simmons has lost some money he had in the bank and Greta is homesick for the old country. Will you help?" "Ye-es," promised Jean, doubtfully, "if you're not going to hurt anybody's feelings." "Shan't even scratch one," assured Henrietta. "Now, when we reach the house, I'll slip around to the basement door with Rosa Marie--the cook will let us in--and you must ring the front-door bell because that will take Simmons out of the way while I get up the back stairs. Ask for Grandmother, and I'll come down and get you when I'm ready." So the girls asked for Mrs. Slater--every one of them now liked the entertaining old lady very much indeed--and chatted with her merrily until Henrietta came running down the stairs. "Grannie," asked the lively girl, pressing her warm red cheek against Mrs. Slater's much paler one, "would you like to be amused? Would you like to be a black conspirator and humble your most haughty servitor to the dust? Then you must ascend to my haunted den and not say a single word for at least five minutes. Come on, girls." In Henrietta's oddly furnished room there were two large East Indian gods and one heathen goddess. Henrietta had managed to group these interesting, Oriental figures in one corner of the spacious chamber, with appropriate drapings behind them. Near them she had placed an empty packing case, oblong in shape and plastered with curious, foreign labels. It looked as if it were waiting to be carried away to the furnace room or some such place. Darkening her bedroom and her dressing room, she placed her obliging grandmother and her four friends behind the heavy portières. "You can peek round the edges," said she, "but you mustn't be seen or heard or even suspected."