The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

said. He looked from the deep-purple-carpeted reception hall, with its antique furniture slipcovered in blending mauves and lavenders, to a pink and gray parlor at one end and a crimson-walled dining room at the other. “I never would have expected an English home to be brighter than we’d have in America!”
    “It rains a lot here,” McDuff explained with a chuckle. “A bit of color warms it up.”
    “Surprisingly enough, the stereotyped ideas we have about people of other nations are more often false than true,” Mart said earnestly. “You know, like I thought that the English would have terrible food. That was certainly an elephantine prevarication!”
    “Big lie,” Jim translated helpfully.
    “I have a hunch that more surprises are on the way,” Trixie said under her breath.
    A strikingly handsome dark-haired man in full dress had emerged from the hallway at the rear. “Yes?” he said, repeating the monosyllabic greeting of the woman in the black dress. Under arched black eyebrows, his dark eyes were sardonic.
    To Trixie, he looked like a mad scientist from a monster movie, but she was so eager to talk to him that she couldn’t keep quiet another minute. And besides, she thought bravely, the way to make friends is to be friendly, like we were with the Tweedie sisters. It worked fine with them.
    “Are you Mr. Hart?” she asked brightly.
    “Andrew Hart,” he said.
    “Andrew! That’s the name of my favorite uncle,” Trixie rushed on. “And we’re just dying to stay in your hotel because we think Honey—this is Honey Wheeler—well, her ancestors—on her mother’s side— were named Hart! So she might even be related to you, and—”
    “That will do, Trixie,” Miss Trask interrupted quietly. “Mr. Hart, we do hope you have accommodations for us for the rest of this week. We understand that you have only just opened your beautiful home for guests.”
    “You have been misinformed,” Mr. Hart said icily. “We have not yet finished with the necessary renovations.” He walked to the front door and held it open. Before the group knew what was happening, they were standing outside in the gravel driveway.
    “Gleeps.” Trixie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “It looks like I did it again.”
    “It wasn’t your fault,” Honey said soothingly. “You were just being friendly, like you were with the Tweedies. Most people appreciate your friendliness. Don’t worry about it, Trixie.”
    “Methinks our host has something against us,” Mart agreed.
    “I think it was something else,” Miss Trask remarked thoughtfully. “Something that has absolutely nothing to do with us, personally.”
    Well , I think Andrew Hart is a bit of a meanie, Trixie thought privately. And I kind of hope that Honey’s not related to him!

Anne ● 10

    MCDUFF HEADED straight for the Maroon Saloon, and the Bob-Whites followed him. Miss Trask lingered behind to admire the red, yellow, and orange mums and marigolds bordering the crescent drive in front of Hartfield House. The Bob-Whites were about to climb into the backseat, when the vestibule door opened, and a girl came running out.
    She was about Trixie’s height but very slender, and she seemed a little older. She had dark brown hair cut in a smooth and shiny pageboy style, and she was wearing a blue and white tennis outfit. Her eyes were a very dark blue.
    “Hullo,” the girl said forthrightly, holding out her hand to Miss Trask. “I’m Anne Hart. My father says you are looking for lodgings.”
    The Bob-Whites gathered around her. She looked as though she might have been crying, but perhaps, thought Trixie, it was just the English strawberry-and-cream complexion that made her cheeks seem so pink.
    “We understand you’re not ready to open yet,” Miss Trask said pleasantly.
    “But Miss Tweedie—” Trixie began.
    “Yes, we know the Tweedie sisters,” said Anne. “Actually, they rang us up to ask if we could accommodate a party of six.” Anne flushed even pinker and went on breathlessly. “We are still in the process of renovation, which my father felt might inconvenience you. But we do have a few rooms we could make available.”
    “Are you sure?” Miss Trask asked. “We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. ”
    Anne smiled. “If you can put up with us, we’d be glad to put you up,” she said in her straightforward way. “Would you like to see the rooms? I’m afraid they wouldn’t all be adjoining. We have three dormer rooms