"
"It doesn't look it," returned Patsy; "but it may improve."
The interior of the hotel was comfortable, though, however bleak the
weather might be outside. A good dinner put them all in a better humor
and they passed the evening watching the strangers assembled in the
parlors and wondering where they had come from and who they were.
"That money," whispered Uncle John to Beth, as he kissed her good
night, "is still as safe as can be. I've lost the key to my trunk, and
now I can't even get at it myself."
"Lost it!" she exclaimed.
"Yes; but that won't matter. It's the big trunk that holds the things I
don't often use, and if I can't unlock it no one else can, that's
certain. So I shall rest easy until I need something out of it, and then
I'll get a locksmith to pick the lock."
"But I wish you hadn't lost the key," said the girl, thoughtfully.
"Strikes me it's good luck. Pleasant dreams, my dear. I can fancy Arthur
Weldon lying awake all night with his dreadful thirty thousand tucked
under his pillow. It's a great mistake to carry so much money with you,
Beth, for you're sure to worry about it."
The next morning when they came down to breakfast they were all amazed
at the gorgeous sunshine and the genial temperature that had followed
the dreary afternoon of their arrival. Syracuse was transformed, and
from every window of the hotel the brilliant glow of countless flowers
invited one to wander in the gardens, which are surpassed by few if any
in the known world.
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