Octagon Magic Read Online Free PDF

to be afraid.
    Hallie had done something to the upper bar of the gate to open it. But then Hallie had been on the other side. Lorrie had best climb again. She had laid her hand on the gate to do just that when it gave and swung a little, easier than when Hallie had opened it for her. Then she stood on the shadow-patched brick walk.
    The flower beds in the back—they ought to be easier to dig in. Heedless of the shadows, Lorrie hurried to the place by the pool. There she squatted to dig with her spoon.
    There was no wind tonight, so she heard the tapping sharp and clear. Lorrie turned her head to look at the house. There were the windows with the curtains. And now there was a light there, not bright, but enough to show the lady who was leaning forward with her face quite close to the glass. And it was not Hallie.
    For a long moment Lorrie was startled, too startled to run as she might have done. Then she saw that the lady was not frowning or looking in the least cross as she might have been at someone digging in her garden. Instead she smiled, and now she beckoned to Lorrie, and pointed in the direction of the back door.
    Lorrie hesitated and then got to her feet, still pressing Miranda close to her. Then the lady tapped again and once more pointed. Lorrie obeyed, walking along the brick path.
    The door swung open before she had quite reached the steps, and Hallie greeted her. “Mis’ Lorrie, come in, come! Mis’ Ashemeade, she wants to see you.”
    Lorrie came into a hall that had darkish corners in spite of a lamp set up on a wall bracket. Is was triangular in shape witha door in each wall. One opened into a kitchen, and Lorrie could see part of a stove. The other, to her right, opened into the room of the curtained windows. Hallie pointed to that.
    “Go right in.”
    Lorrie suddenly felt very shy. The lady in the window had smiled and seemed friendly, but she had not invited her in.
    It was the strangest room Lorrie had ever seen. The light there, and there was light in plenty, all came from lamps and candles that flickered now and then. There were red-velvet drapes at the windows over white-lace curtains, and a red carpet underfoot. A big table, which had two candelabra, was in the center of the room, and it had a great many things laid out on it. There was a fireplace to her left with a fire glowing in it, and before it on the hearthrug lay Sabina.
    Between the table and the windows was a chair with carved arms and a high back. In it sat the lady. She wore a dress with a tight waist and a full long skirt like Hallie's. But this was an odd shade of green. And her long apron was not white and ruffled as Hallie's but made of black taffeta with a border of brilliant flowers and birds worked in many colored silks. Her hair was very white but thick, and was braided and then pinned about her head with a fluff of black lace and dark red ribbon fastened on for a cap.
    She had a tall frame at her elbow as if she had just turned away from her work. And on that was stretched canvas with a picture half embroidered. But now her hands rested on the arms of her chair, and on their fingers were many rings, most of them set with the red stones Lorrie knew for garnets such as Grandmother had, but seldom wore.
    A necklace of the same stones lay on the front of her dress, and earrings glinted in her ears. She did not look at all like any lady Lorrie had ever seen, but in this room she belonged.
    “Come here, Lorrie. Let me see Miranda.” She held out her hand and her rings winked in the firelight.
    Lorrie did not find it odd that Miss Ashemeade should know just what she carried in her bundle of handkerchief.
    Miss Ashemeade put one hand over the other, the package that was Miranda between her palms. For a long moment she sat so, then she spoke:
    “There is breaking in plenty in this world, Lorrie. But there is also mending, if one has will and patience. Never be hasty, for haste may sometimes make a large trouble from a small one. Now,