d to find some one to tell her when
the Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room
was in the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the
aged deaf and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by
perplexed thoughts.

She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances,
would have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or
the Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to?
She fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both
parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any
use in sending to the Sylvesters' usual address, which she knew well
by this time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the
Sylvesters would know they had not come. It would be the same with Ann
Maria. She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several
postmasters. Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew
where people were going to, and where to send their letters. She
might, at least, write two letters, to say that they--the
Peterkins--had arrived, and were disappointed not to find the
Sylvesters. And she could add that their trunks had not arrived, and
perhaps their friends might look out for them on their way. It really
seemed a good plan to write. Yet another question came up, as to how
she would get her letters to the post-office, as she had already
learned it was at quite a distance, and in a different direction from
the station, where they were to send the next day for their trunks.

She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the
coughing and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin
partition.

She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by
the morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of
fowl.

Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and
declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds.

They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach
only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was
appointed at noon. Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. "Such a straight
road, and the beach such a safe place to turn round upon!"

Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the
station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably
left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been
switched off upon one