How could she get her trunk from the garret?
How could she get it to the station?
Would it be possible for Uncle James to take it in his car?
As she pondered these things Eileen had a dim memory of a day in her childhood when her mother had gone on business to San Francisco and had taken her along.

She remembered a huge house, all turrets and towers and gables, all turns and twists and angles, closed to the light of day and glowing inside with shining artificial lights.

She remembered stumbling over deep rugs.

One vivid impression was of walls covered with huge canvases, some of them having frames more than a foot wide.

She remembered knights in armor, and big fireplaces, and huge urns and vases.