Judy and Peter climbed to the third floor, tiptoeing so as not todisturb their sleeping guests. All was quiet on the second floor. Thestairway went right on up to what was not a cobwebby old attic, butthree neat little rooms at the top of the house.
The room in the middle had dormer windows that gave enough light forsewing. Here Judy had placed her sewing machine. Opposite it was a largechest of drawers, a chair, and a bookcase filled with things shetreasured.
In one of the other rooms her grandmother’s things were stored. Judy hadnever got around to sorting all of them.
In the third room were things she had saved herself. The wall was linedwith books she had loved and didn’t want to part with. She had takenthem all to her grandmother’s house the summer before the flood. Her olddolls were there too.
It was in this room that Judy found what she was looking for—a stack ofold magazines.
“It must be in this pile here somewhere,” she told Peter, rapidly goingthrough the stack. “It was an article in an old issue of _Life_, and ithad lots of pictures in color of Hindu gods and goddesses. I’ll know itby its cover—a Hindu girl with some kind of an ornament on her forehead.Do you remember it, Peter?”
“I believe I do,” he replied. “There were pictures of gods and goddesseson a big fold-out page. Some of them were in the Riker collection. Theywere hardly what you’d call dolls, although some of them were green. Tothe more educated Hindus they have become symbolic.”
“You mean like our sandman?” asked Judy with a yawn.
Peter laughed. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess the sandmanis a symbol of sleep, and you and I could use some of it. We can lookthrough the rest of these old magazines another time.”
“It’s no use. It isn’t here. We’d better go down.”
Judy picked up Buttercup, her favorite doll. “I’m going to tuck her inbed with Penny,” she told Peter, “so she’ll find her when she wakes up.”
She laughed at Peter’s objections as she carried the doll down to thechildren’s bedroom on the second floor and placed her in Penny’s arms.
“You see, I didn’t wake Penny,” she whispered to Peter. “Isn’t she anangel? I wish—”
The wish went unexpressed as Judy pounced upon the very magazine she hadbeen hunting for. It was on the little night table right by Penny’s bed,and it was open to the big fold-out page covered with pictures of Hindugods and goddesses.
“Go ahead! You can take it,” Paul said so suddenly that he startled Judyand nearly made her drop the magazine.
He was wide awake in the other bed.
“Where did you find it?” Judy whispered.
“In the closet. I was showing Penny the pictures. Is it almost morning?”
“Almost,” Judy told him. “Now go back to sleep. I’d better follow my ownadvice,” she said to Peter when they were in their own room.
“Are you going to take that magazine to bed with you?” he asked.
Judy still had it in her arms.
“Why not?” she retorted, making a face at him. “It contains all themysterious secrets of the mysterious East and if I want to solve thismysterious—”
“Darling,” Peter interrupted, “if I hear that word again I shall place ablindfold over your mysterious gray eyes—”
“Try it!” she challenged him.
Judy won the scuffle. In spite of Peter’s protests, she began to readthe article, though not from the beginning. She had opened the magazineto a huge picture of Shiva.
“This,” she pointed out, “is Shiva or Siva, the death god or theDestroyer. I recognized the figure on the tomb from this picture. ButPenny mentioned the name Sita, and that seems to ring a bell, too.”
“It should.” Peter turned the page and spread it out before her. “Herethey are,” he said. “Rama and Sita are the ideal man and woman in India.They should never be separated, and no marriage is complete withouttheir blessing—”
“That’s rather sweet, don’t you think? Oh!” Judy gasped, pointing to oneof the two little idols pictured. “Look, Peter. This is the one I foundin the vault. Our green doll is Rama!”