"Charlotte!" Charlotte looked around then.
A slender white hand reached out in the gloom around the corner and beckoned.

"Charlotte, come; come quick." Charlotte did not stir.
"Charlotte, do come.

Your mother's dreadful afraid you'll catch cold.
The front door is open." Charlotte sat quite rigid.

The slender figure began moving towards her stealthily, keeping close to the house, advancing with frequent pauses like a wary bird.

When she got close to Charlotte she reached down and touched her shoulder timidly.