The Mystery at Lilac Inn

I

A Chance Meeting

A bright blue roadster, low-swung and smart, rolled swiftly along the winding lake road to halt suddenly before a large signboard which boldly proclaimed to all who chanced that way:

Lilac Inn: Chicken Dinners
Our Specialty.

The driver, a pretty girl of perhaps sixteen, attractive in a frock which either by accident or design exactly matched the blue of the automobile, smiled whimsically as she read the words.

“My specialty, too!” Nancy Drew told herself. “The thought of chicken almost makes me expire from hunger. I think I’ll stop here for luncheon.”

Guiding the car into the side road, she drove beneath a long canopy of trees and presently came within sight of Lilac Inn. As she swung the roadster into line with the row of automobiles parked in the yard, it seemed to her that the old inn had never appeared more picturesque than on this particular spring day. Huge lilac bushes, heavy with bloom, completely surrounded the rambling structure, while a well-kept lawn sloped gently to a crystal lake at the rear.

Alighting from the roadster, Nancy stood for a moment gazing toward the lake. So absorbed was she in the beauty of the scene that she failed to notice the approach of a girl who from appearance might have been her own age.

“Nancy Drew of all people!” the stranger cried eagerly as she rushed up.

Startled at hearing her name called, Nancy Drew wheeled quickly and then smiled as she recognized a former classmate whom she had not seen for many weeks. It was not difficult to smile upon Emily Crandall, for her candid blue eyes, delicate coloring, and almost classical features gave her a beauty which was the envy of her friends. Though she lacked Nancy Drew’s poise and keen mind, she did possess an unusually sunny disposition and had a way of accepting life as she found it.

Since the death of her mother many years before, she had been under the guardianship of Mrs. Jane Willoughby, a young widow. Unfortunately, Emily Crandall had never had a great deal of money; but the lack of it did not appear to trouble her.

“Emily Crandall!” Nancy exclaimed in genuine delight, gripping her friend’s hand. “What brought you here?”

“Oh, I was driving to River Heights to see a friend. Mrs. Willoughby lent me her sedan for the day; but, as luck would have it, the mean thing stalled. I walked here thinking I might find someone to help me.”

“Perhaps you’re only out of gasoline.”

“I’m afraid not. But why worry about such a trifle as a stalled car? After all, it was fortunate that I was forced to stop here; otherwise I should have missed you. What are you doing here, anyway? Looking for another mystery?”

“I should say not!” Nancy Drew returned emphatically. “I think I’ve had enough of mystery to last me a life time. Anyway, if I were looking for one, I wouldn’t choose such a lovely spot as Lilac Inn.”

“Mysteries sometimes pop up in strange places, Nancy, and I must say you have a faculty for running into them. Everyone said it was a wonderful piece of detective work when you solved the mystery of the Jacob Aborn bungalow. I read glowing accounts of your cleverness in the papers. Just imagine capturing a criminal! I’d be thrilled to death!”

“I was glad to help Laura Pendleton regain her inheritance,” Nancy said quietly. “But I’m afraid the reporters exaggerated my part a little.” Then to change the subject: “Have you had luncheon?”

“No, I haven’t, and it’s after one o’clock, too. I’m nearly starved.”

“Then why not lunch with me? After that, we can see what can be done about your car.”

“Suits me,” Emily agreed willingly.

Arm in arm the two girls hurried up the path to the inn. Entering, they saw that the dining room was crowded, but the head waiter bowed to Nancy in recognition, and, to the astonishment of persons who had not received choice tables, they were promptly escorted to a secluded nook which permitted an excellent view of the lake and the grounds.

“How do you do it?” Emily asked in a low tone when the girls were seated. “The waiter gave us the very nicest table in the room.”

“Oh, I’ve been here before. That probably explains it.”

“You know it doesn’t, Nancy Drew; but you’re too modest to admit that you’re something of a personage. At the rate you’re going, you’ll soon be as famous as your father.”

“Oh, Emily!” Nancy protested. “What possesses you, anyway? Just because I’ve solved a few old mysteries—” her voice trailed off as she studied the menu card. “I can’t make up my mind what to order.”

“You’re positively the limit,” Emily sighed, as she too turned her attention to the bill of fare. “Food interests you more than an honest compliment.”

“Right now I’m afraid I must admit it does,” Nancy laughed. “You see, I’ve driven nearly seventy miles since breakfast. Dad sent me over to Windlow with some legal papers for Judge Howell. I started back without luncheon.”

“I’m glad you did, Nancy. Otherwise we’d not have met here.”

Nancy Drew finished writing out her order, and after handing it to the waiter settled back in her chair.

“Tell me what you have been doing with yourself this summer, Emily. I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Can’t you guess by looking at my freckles? I’ve been living at a cottage on the lake.”

“Alone?”