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diff --git a/26215-h/26215-h.htm b/26215-h/26215-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed93ab6 --- /dev/null +++ b/26215-h/26215-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11111 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacatoin, by Annie Fellows Johnston. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 75%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 75%;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation, by +Annie Fellows Johnston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation + +Author: Annie Fellows Johnston + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: August 8, 2008 [EBook #26215] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE COLONEL'S CHRISTMAS VACATION *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="393" height="600" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHRISTMAS<br /> +VACATION</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='bbox'> +<div class='center'>Works of<br /> +ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON<br /> +——————<br /> +The Little Colonel Series<br /> + +(<i>Trade Mark, Reg. U.S. Pat. Of.</i>)<br /> +Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated<br /></div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Books By Johnston"> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel Stories</td><td align='right'>$1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">(Containing in one volume the three stories, "The Little Colonel," "The Giant Scissors," and "Two Little Knights of Kentucky.")</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's House Party</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Holidays</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Hero</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel at Boarding-School</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel in Arizona</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The above 9 vols., <i>boxed</i></span></td><td align='right'>13.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>In Preparation</i>—A New Little Colonel Book</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>—————</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel Good Times Book</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />Illustrated Holiday Editions</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>Each one vol., small quarto, cloth, illustrated, and printed in colour</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel</td><td align='right'>$1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Giant Scissors</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Two Little Knights of Kentucky</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Big Brother</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />Cosy Corner Series</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>Each one vol., thin 12mo, cloth, illustrated</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel</td><td align='right'>$.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Giant Scissors</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Two Little Knights of Kentucky</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Big Brother</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ole Mammy's Torment</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Story of Dago</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cicely</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Aunt 'Liza's Hero</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Quilt that Jack Built</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Flip's "Islands of Providence"</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mildred's Inheritance</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />Other Books</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Joel: A Boy of Galilee</td><td align='right'>$1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In the Desert of Waiting</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Three Weavers</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Keeping Tryst</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Legend of the Bleeding Heart</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Asa Holmes</td><td align='right'>1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Songs Ysame (Poems, with Albion Fellows Bacon)</td><td align='right'>1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'>——————<br /> +L. C. PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +200 Summer Street Boston, Mass.<br /> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;"><a name="front" id="front"></a> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt=""'GEE WHIZ!' EXCLAIMED ROB, IN A TEASING TONE, 'SAY THAT AGAIN, WON'T YOU PLEASE?'" (See page 163)" title=""'GEE WHIZ!' EXCLAIMED ROB, IN A TEASING TONE, 'SAY THAT AGAIN, WON'T YOU PLEASE?'" (See page 163)" /> +<span class="caption">"'GEE WHIZ!' EXCLAIMED <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'BOB'">ROB</ins>, IN A TEASING TONE, 'SAY THAT AGAIN, WON'T YOU PLEASE?'" (<a href="#Page_163"><i>See page 163</i></a>)</span> +</div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="365" height="600" alt="Title Page" title="Title Page" /> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<div class='copyright'> +<i>Copyright, 1905</i><br /> +By <span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> +(Incorporated)<br /> +——————<br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Published October, 1905<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ninth Impression, June, 1908<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Warwick Hall</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"The Old Girls' Welcome to the New"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Excursion</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Keep Tryst"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Memory-Book and a Souvenir Spoon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Christmas Carols</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Homeward Bound</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Picnic in the Snow</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Progressive Christmas Party</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Dungeon of Disappointment</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Attic</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Humdrum Days</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Footsteps of Amanthis</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Cinderella</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Hard-Earned Pearl</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Sweet Sixteen</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_315">315</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>Page</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">Gee whiz!' exclaimed Rob, in a teasing tone. 'Say that again, won't you please</span>?'" (<a href="#Page_163"><i>See page 163</i></a>)</td><td align='right'><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Madam's conversation led far away from the crest and its lesson</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Studying the face of the handsome young fellow with interest</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">I tell you somebody was trying to sandbag me</span>'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">One of the boys had dared him to carry it</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">I nearly fainted when I happened to look up</span>'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">She rode over to Rollington</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">No mattah what lies ahead . . . I'll not disappoint them</span>'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE LITTLE COLONEL'S<br /> +CHRISTMAS VACATION</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>WARWICK HALL</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Warwick Hall</span> looked more like an old English +castle than a modern boarding-school for girls. +Gazing at its high towers and massive portal, one +almost expected to see some velvet-clad page or +lady-in-waiting come down the many flights of +marble steps leading between stately terraces to the +river. Even a knight with a gerfalcon on his wrist +would not have seemed out of place, and if a slow-going +barge had trailed by between the willow-fringed +banks of the Potomac, it would have seemed +more in keeping with the scene than the steamboats +puffing past to Mount Vernon, with crowds of excursionists +on deck.</p> + +<p>The gorgeous peacocks strutting along the terraces +in the sun were partly responsible for this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +impression of mediæval grandeur. It was for that +very purpose that Madam Chartley, the head of the +school, kept the peacocks. That was one reason, +also, that she proudly retained the coat of arms in +the great stained glass window over the stairs, +when circumstances obliged her to turn her ancestral +home into a boarding-school. She thought a +sense of mediæval grandeur was good for girls, +especially young American girls, who are apt to +be brought up without proper respect for age, either +of individuals or institutions.</p> + +<p>In the dining-room, two long lines of portraits +looked down from opposite walls. One was headed +by a grim old earl, and the other by an equally grim +old Pilgrim father of <i>Mayflower</i> fame. The two +lines joined over the fireplace in the portraits of +Madam Chartley's great-grandparents. It was for +this great-grandmother, a daughter of the Pilgrims +and a beautiful Washington belle, that Warwick +Hall had been built; for she refused to give up +her native land entirely, even for the son of an earl.</p> + +<p>At his death, when the title and the English estates +were inherited by a distant cousin, the only +male heir, this place on the Potomac was all that +was left to her and her daughter. It had been +closed for two generations. Now it had come down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +at last to Madam Chartley. Although it found her +too poor to keep up such an establishment, it also +found her too proud to let her heritage go to strangers, +and practical enough to find some way by +which she might retain it comfortably. That way +was to turn it into a first-class boarding-school. +She was a graduate of one of the best American +colleges. The patrician standards inherited from +her old world ancestors, combined with the energy +and common sense of the new, made her an ideal +woman to undertake the education of young girls, +and Warwick Hall was an ideal place in which to +carry out her wise theories.</p> + +<p>The Potomac was red with the glow of the sunset +one September evening, when four girls, on their +way back to Washington after a day's sightseeing, +hurried to the upper deck of the steamboat. Some +one had called out that Warwick Hall was in sight. +In their haste to reach the railing, they scarcely +noticed a tall girl in blue, already standing there, +who obligingly moved along to make room for +them.</p> + +<p>She scrutinized them closely, however, for she +had seen them in the cabin a little while before, and +their conversation had been so amusing that she +longed to make their acquaintance. Her face bright<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>ened +expectantly at their approach, and, as they +leaned over the railing, she studied them with growing +interest. The oldest one was near her own +age, she decided after a careful survey, about seventeen; +and they were all particular about the little +things that count so much with fastidious schoolgirls. +She approved of each one of them from +their broad silk shoe-laces to the pink tips of their +carefully manicured finger-nails.</p> + +<p>As the boat swung around a bend in the river, +bringing the castle-like building into full view, a +chorus of delighted exclamations broke out all along +the deck. The four girls hung over the railing with +eager faces.</p> + +<p>"Look, Lloyd, look!" cried one of them, excitedly. +"Peacocks on the terraces! It's the finishing +touch to the picture. We'll feel like Lady Clare +walking down those marble steps. There surely +must be a milk-white doe somewhere in the background."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Betty, Betty!" was the laughing answer. +"You'll do nothing now but quote Tennyson and +write poetry from mawning till night."</p> + +<p>"They're from Kentucky," thought the girl in +blue. "I'm sure of it from the way they talk."</p> + +<p>As the boat glided slowly along, Lloyd threw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +her arm around the girl beside her, with an impulsive +squeeze.</p> + +<p>"Kitty Walton," she exclaimed, "aren't you +<i>glad</i> that the old Lloydsboro Seminary burned +down? If it hadn't, we wouldn't be on ouah way +now to that heavenly-looking boahding-school!"</p> + +<p>The sudden hug loosened Kitty's hat, held insecurely +by one pin, and in another instant the strong +breeze would have carried it over into the river +had not the girl in blue caught it as it swept past +her. She handed it back with a friendly smile, +glad of an opportunity to speak.</p> + +<p>"You are new pupils for Warwick Hall, aren't +you?" she asked, when Kitty had laughingly +thanked her. "I hope so, for I'm one of the old +girls. This will be my third year."</p> + +<p>"How perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Kitty. +"We've been fairly crazy to meet some one from +there. Do tell us if it is as fine as it looks, and +as the catalogue says."</p> + +<p>"It is the very nicest place in the world," was +the enthusiastic reply. "There are hardly any rules, +and none of them are the kind that rub you up +the wrong way. We don't have to wear uniforms, +and we're not marched out to walk in wholesale +lots like prisoners in a chain-gang."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's what I used to despise at the Seminary," +interrupted Lloyd. "I always felt like pah't of a +circus parade, or an inmate of some asylum, out for +an airing. Keeping in step and keeping in line +with a lot of othahs made a punishment out of +the walk, when it would have been such a pleasuah +if we could have skipped along as we pleased. I +felt resentful from the moment the gong rang for +us to stah't. It had such a bossy, tyrannical sawt of +sound."</p> + +<p>"You'll not find it that way at Warwick Hall," +was the emphatic answer. "There are bells for +rising and chapel and meals, but the signal for exercise +is a hunter's horn, blown on the upper terrace. +There's something so breezy and out-of-doors +in the sound that it is almost as irresistible a call +as the Pied Piper of Hamelin's. You ought to see +the doors fly open along the corridors, and the girls +pour out when that horn blows. We can go in +twos or threes or squads, any way we please, and in +any direction, so long as we keep inside the grounds. +There's an orchard to stroll through, and a wooded +hillside, and a big meadow. On bad days there is +over half a mile of gravel road that runs through +the grounds to the trolley station, or we can take +our exercise going round and round the garden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +walks. The garden is over there at the left of the +Hall," she explained, waving her hand toward it. +"Do you see that pergola stretching along the +highest terrace? That is where the garden begins, +and the ivy running over it was started from a slip +that Madam Chartley brought from Sir Walter +Scott's home at Abbotsford.</p> + +<p>"It is the stateliest old garden you ever saw, +and the pride of the school. There's a sun-dial in +it, and hollyhocks from Ann Hathaway's cottage, +and rhododendrons from Killarney. There's all +the flowers mentioned in the old songs. Madam +has brought slips and roots and seeds from all sorts +of places, so that nearly every plant is connected +with some noted place or person. I simply love +it. In warm weather I get up early in the morning, +and study my Latin out in the honeysuckle arbour. +Latin is my hardest study, but it doesn't seem half +so hard out there among the bees and hummingbirds, +where it's all so sweet and still."</p> + +<p>"Oh, will they let you do things like that?" +came the same amazed question from all four at +once.</p> + +<p>"You wait and see," was the encouraging reply. +"That isn't the beginning."</p> + +<p>The four exchanged ecstatic glances.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, we haven't introduced ourselves," exclaimed +Kitty, bethinking herself of formalities. +"I am Katherine Walton, and this is my big sister, +Allison. That is Lloyd Sherman and Elizabeth +Lewis. They're almost as good as sisters, for they +live together, and Lloyd's mother is Betty's godmother. +And we're all from the same place, Lloydsboro +Valley, Kentucky."</p> + +<p>"And I am Juliet Lynn from Wisconsin. That +is, I lived there till papa had to come to Washington. +He's a Congressman now. I was sure that +you were from Kentucky, and I've been hoping that +you were new girls for the Hall ever since I heard +you talking about some house-party where you all +did such funny things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, that was one we had this summer at +The Beeches," began Kitty, glibly, "when we all +took turns—"</p> + +<p>But, with a big-sister frown of warning, Allison +said, in a low aside: "For pity's sake, don't stop +to tell all that long rigmarole over <i>now</i>. We want +to hear some more about the school."</p> + +<p>"What is Madam Chartley herself like?" she +asked, turning to Juliet. "She must be something +of an old dragon if she can keep forty girls straight +with so few rules. We've pictured her as a big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +British matron, dignified and imposing,—a sort +of lioness rampant, you know, with a stern air, as +if she was about to say in a deep voice, 'England—expects—every—man—to—do—his—duty,—sir!'"</p> + +<p>"But she isn't that way at all!" cried Juliet, +almost indignantly. "She's just as American as +you are, for she was born and educated in this +country. She has the gentlest voice and sweetest +manner. Her hair is snow-white, and there's something +awfully aristocratic about her, for she is—sort +of—well, I hardly know how to express it, +but just what you'd expect the 'daughter of a hundred +earls' to be, you know. But you won't feel +one bit in awe of her. The girls simply adore +her."</p> + +<p>"But isn't she something to be afraid of when +you break the rules?" queried Kitty, anxiously. +"When you have midnight feasts and pillow-case +prowls and all that?"</p> + +<p>Juliet shook her head. "We don't do those +things. I tell you it isn't like any other boarding-school +you ever heard of."</p> + +<p>"Then I know I sha'n't like it," declared Kitty. +"All my life I've looked forward to going off to +school just for the jolly good times I'd have. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +see we were only day-pupils at Lloydsboro Seminary, +and there wasn't a chance for that kind of +fun, except the one term when Lloyd and Betty +boarded in the school while their family was away +from home. We managed to stir up a little excitement +then, and I'd hoped for all sorts of thrilling +adventures here. I'm horribly disappointed that +it's so tame and goody-goody."</p> + +<p>Juliet's face coloured resentfully. "It isn't tame +at all!" she declared. "It's only that we are always +so busy doing pleasant things and going to interesting +places that nobody cares for stolen spreads. +Some girls don't like the place just at first, because +it's so different from what they've been used to. +But by the end of the term they're so in love with +Warwick Hall and everything about it that nothing +could induce them to change schools. There's +only one girl I ever heard of who didn't like it."</p> + +<p>"And why didn't she?" asked Lloyd and Allison, +in the same breath.</p> + +<p>"Well, she came from some ranch away out +West, Wyoming or Nevada or some of those places, +where she'd been as free and easy as a squaw, and +she couldn't stand so much civilization. You see, +from the minute you enter Warwick Hall you feel +somehow that you're a guest of Madam Chartley's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +instead of a pupil. She uses the old family silver +and the china has her great-grandfather's crest on +it, and she brought over a London butler who grew +up in the family service. She keeps him for the +same reason that she keeps the peacocks, I suppose. +They give such a grand air to the place.</p> + +<p>"Lida Wilsy—that's the girl from the ranch—couldn't +live up to so much stateliness, especially +of the stony-eyed butler. Hawkins was too much +for her. She told her roommate that she thought +it was foolish to have so many forks and spoons +at each place. One was enough for anybody to +get through a dinner with. Life was too short for +so much fuss and feathers. She never could learn +which to use first, and she would get her silverware +so hopelessly mixed up that by the time dessert was +brought on maybe she would have nothing to eat +it with but an oyster fork. I've seen her ready to +go under the table from embarrassment. Not that +she cared so much what the girls thought. She +joked about it to them. Her father owned the biggest +part of a silver mine, and they could have had +Tiffany's whole stock of forks if they'd wanted +them. It was Hawkins she was afraid of. Of +course he was too well trained to show what he +thought of her mistakes, but you couldn't help feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>ing +his high and mighty inward scorn of such ignorance. +It fairly oozed from his finger-tips."</p> + +<p>Kitty's black eyes sparkled, anticipating times +ahead when she would certainly make it lively for +Hawkins.</p> + +<p>"There's grandfathah!" cried Lloyd, catching +sight of a white-haired old gentleman who had +just come up on deck. "I want to tell him about +the garden before we lose sight of it."</p> + +<p>Juliet's glance followed her with interest as she +darted away, for it was a distinguished-looking +old gentleman who lifted his hat with elaborate +courtesy at her approach. He was dressed in white +duck, and the right coat-sleeve hung empty.</p> + +<p>"It's Colonel Lloyd," explained Allison, noting +Juliet's glance of curiosity. "He's bringing us all +to school, for it wasn't convenient for mother or +Mrs. Sherman to come."</p> + +<p>"They don't look alike," remarked Juliet, surveying +them with a puzzled expression. "But +what is it about them—there is such a startling +resemblance?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody notices it," said Kitty. "When +Lloyd was smaller, they used to call her the Little +Colonel all the time, but especially when she was +in a temper. They call her Princess now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Princess," echoed Juliet. "That name suits +her exactly."</p> + +<p>She cast another admiring glance at the slender, +fair-haired girl, standing with her hand in her +grandfather's arm, pointing out the beauties of the +place they were slowly passing.</p> + +<p>"And she will suit Warwick Hall," she added, +with a sudden burst of schoolgirl enthusiasm, "just +as the peacocks suit it, and the coat of arms, and +Madam Chartley herself. She's got that same +'daughter-of-a-hundred-earls' air about her that +Madam has."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it all sounds so delightful and fascinating," +sighed Betty, pushing back the brown hair that blew +in little curls about her face, and smiling at the +slowly disappearing Hall with a happy light in her +brown eyes. "I can hardly wait for to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The boat had glided on until only the high, +square tower was left in view, with the red sunset +glow upon it.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'The splendour falls on castle walls<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And snowy summits old in story'"—</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>Betty sang half under her breath, with a farewell +flutter of her handkerchief, as the boat rounded a +bend in the river which hid the tower from sight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +Already she was in love with the place, and already, +as Lloyd had predicted, she was fitting some line +of Tennyson to it at every turn.</div> + +<p>Acquaintance progressed rapidly in the next half-hour. +Long before they reached Washington, Juliet +knew, not only that she had guessed Allison's +age correctly at seventeen, that Betty was sixteen, +and Lloyd and Kitty a year younger, but that each +girl in her own way would make a desirable friend. +Incidentally she learned that Allison and Kitty had +lived in the Philippines, and were daughters of the +brave General Walton who had lost his life there +in his country's service. When they parted at the +boat-landing, it was with delightful anticipations +of the next day, and with each one eager to renew +an acquaintance so pleasantly begun.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>If Warwick Hall suggested ancient stateliness on +the outside, it was informal and frivolous enough +within, when forty girls were taking possession +of their rooms on the opening day of the school +year. In and out like a flock of twittering sparrows, +the old pupils darted from one room to another, +exchanging calls and greetings, laughing over old +jokes and reminiscences, and settling down into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +familiar corners with an ease that the new girls +envied.</p> + +<p>Juliet Lynn, quickly establishing herself in her +last year's quarters, started down the corridor to +announce at every door that she was the first one +unpacked and settled. All the other rooms were +in hopeless confusion, beds, chairs, and floors being +piled with the contents of open trunks.</p> + +<p>At the first door where she paused, a shower of +shoes and slippers was the only answer to her triumphant +announcement. At the next a laughing +cry of "Help! help!" greeted her. At the third +she was informed that there was standing-room +only.</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe it, Juliet!" called a gay voice +from the chiffonier, where an earlier visitor was +perched. "There's always room at the top. I've +discovered where Min keeps her butter-scotch. +Come in and have some."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm going the rounds to see what everybody +is about," she answered. "You're all in such +a mess now, I'd rather look in later. I'm one +of the early settlers, and have been in order for +ages."</p> + +<p>"What's the odds so long as you're happy?" +called the girl on the chiffonier. "Besides, it's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +no better next door. They'll invite you to make +yourself at home under the bed, as they did me. +Come on back and tell us your summer's experiences. +Min has had one dizzy whirl of adventures +after another."</p> + +<p>But Juliet kept on down the hall. She wanted to +find what rooms had been assigned to the girls +whom she had met the day before on the boat, and +to hear their first impressions of Warwick Hall. +Presently, through a half-open door, she caught +sight of Betty, sitting at an open window overlooking +the river. With chin in hand and elbows +resting on the sill, she was gazing dreamily out at +the willow-fringed banks, so absorbed in her +thoughts that she did not hear Juliet's first knock. +But at the second she started up and called cordially: +"Oh, I'm so glad to see you! Come +in!"</p> + +<p>"Why, you're all unpacked and put away, too!" +exclaimed Juliet, in surprise, looking around the +orderly room. "I thought that I was the only one, +but I see you've even hung your pictures."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we don't know any of the other girls yet, +so we didn't lose any time running back and forth +to their rooms, as everybody else is doing. We've +been through ever so long. Lloyd is out exploring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +the grounds with Allison, but I was too tired after +all the sightseeing we have done. I'd be glad not +to stir out of my room for a week."</p> + +<p>She pushed a rocking-chair hospitably toward +her guest, and leaned back in the opposite one.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to sit down," said Juliet. "I'm +just exploring. I think it's so much fun to poke +around the first day and see how everybody is fixed. +You don't mind, do you, if I walk around and look +at your pictures?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" answered Betty, cordially. +"Help yourself."</p> + +<p>Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she +sat up straight in her chair, and adjusted the side-combs +which were slipping out of her curly hair. +It was a pleasing reflection that the mirror showed +her, of a slim girl in a linen shirt-waist and a dark +brown skirt just reaching to her ankles. But it held +her gaze only long enough for her to see that her +belt was properly pulled down and her stock all +that could be desired. The friendly brown eyes and +the trusting little mouth never needed readjustment. +They always met the world with a smile, and thus +far the world had always smiled back at them.</p> + +<p>"Last year," said Juliet, as she wandered around, +"the girl who had this room simply plastered the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +walls with posters. It was so sporty-looking. She +had hunting scenes between these windows, and +there was a frieze of hounds and a yard of puppies +where you have that panel of photographs. Oh, +what perfectly beautiful places!" she cried, moving +nearer. "Do tell me about them. Is that where +you live?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, this is our Lloydsboro Valley corner—the +Happy Valley we call it," answered Betty, crossing +the room to point out the various places: "Locust," +her home and Lloyd's, a stately white-pillared +mansion at the end of a long locust avenue; "The +Beeches," where the Waltons lived; the vine-covered +stone church; the old mill; the post-office, and +a row of snap shots showing Lloyd and her +mounted on their ponies, Tarbaby and Lad.</p> + +<p>"What good times you must have there!" sighed +Juliet, presently.</p> + +<p>Betty opened a drawer in the writing-desk and +took out six little books, bound in white kid, her +initials stamped in gold on each cover.</p> + +<p>"Just see how many!" she exclaimed. "I +started to keep a record of all my good times when +I went to Lloyd's first house-party. When godmother +gave me this volume, number one, I thought +it would take a lifetime to fill it, but so many lovely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +things happened that summer that it was full in +a little while. Then I went abroad in the fall, and +that trip filled a volume. Now I am beginning the +seventh."</p> + +<p>Juliet stared at the pile of white books in amazement. +"What a lot of work!" she cried. "Doesn't +it take every bit of pleasure out of your good times, +thinking that you'll have to write all about it afterward? +I tried to keep a diary once, but it looked +more like the report of a weather bureau than anything +else, and my small brother got hold of it and +mortified me nearly to death one night when we +had company, by quoting something from it. It +sounded dreadfully sentimental, although it hadn't +seemed so when I wrote it. That's the trouble in +keeping a journal, don't you think so? You'll often +put down something that seems important at the +time, but that sounds silly afterward."</p> + +<p>"No," said Betty, hesitatingly. "I always enjoy +going back to read the first volumes. It's interesting +to see how one changes from year to year in +opinions as well as handwriting. See how little +and cramped the letters are in this first volume. It's +good exercise, and, as I expect to write a book some +day, every bit of practice helps."</p> + +<p>Betty made the announcement as simply as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +she had said she intended to darn a stocking some +day, and Juliet looked at her in open-mouthed wonder. +She had never encountered a girl of that species +before, and more than ever she felt that her +friendship would be worth cultivating. When she +finally took her departure, there was no time for +any further tour of inspection, but she ran into +several rooms on the way back to her own to say, +hastily: "Girls, do all you can to get that Kentucky +quartette into our sorority! I'll tell you about +them later. We must give them a grand rush to-morrow +night at the old girls' welcome to the new. +I hope I'll get to take Elizabeth Lewis. My <i>dears</i>, +she's a perfect genius! She's written poems and +plays that have been published, and she's at work +on a <i>book!</i>"</p> + +<p>As Juliet closed the door behind her, Betty took +up the new volume in the series of little white records, +and began turning the blank pages. Like the +new school year, it lay spread out before her, white +and fair, hers to write therein as she chose.</p> + +<p>"And I'll try my hardest to make it the best and +happiest record of them all," she said to herself. +As she dipped her pen into the ink, there was a +knock at the door, and a white-capped maid looked +in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Madam Chartley would be pleased to see you +at once in the pink room, miss," she announced, +and Betty, much surprised, rose to answer the unexpected +summons.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>"THE OLD GIRLS' WELCOME TO THE NEW"</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> Betty opened the door, she ran into Kitty +Walton, who at sight of her struck an attitude +on the threshold, crossing her hands on her breast, +and rolling her eyes upward until only the whites +were visible.</p> + +<p>"What new pose is this, you goose?" laughed +Betty, shaking her gently by one shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh," was the solemn answer. "This +is pious resignation to fate." Then her hands +dropped and she turned to Betty tragically.</p> + +<p>"I've just come from an interview with Madam +Chartley," she explained. "And what do you think? +That blessed old soul expects me to live up to the +motto on her teacups! But how can I give Hawkins +his just due <i>if</i> I do? I had the loveliest things +planned for his tormenting, but I'd be ashamed to +look her in the face if she ever found me out after +this interview.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Betty, I don't want to renounce the world +and the flesh and all the other bad things this early +in the term, but I'm afraid that I've already done it. +She's laid a spell on all of us."</p> + +<p>"Has she sent for Lloyd and Allison, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Allison was the first victim. She came +back in a regular dare-to-be-a-Daniel mood, and +announced that she intended to start in, heart and +soul, for the studio honours this year. Then Lloyd +had her turn, and she came back looking like Joan +of Arc when she'd been listening to the voices. I +vowed she shouldn't have that effect on me, but +here I am, perfectly docile as you see, fangs drawn +and claws cut. I tremble for the effect on you, +sweet innocent. Your wings will sprout before you +get back."</p> + +<p>Betty laughed and hurried past her down the +stairs. Evidently it was Madam's custom to make +the acquaintance of her new girls in this way, one +at a time. Only fifteen freshmen were admitted +each year, so it was possible for her to take a personal +interest in every pupil.</p> + +<p>Betty's heart fluttered expectantly as she paused +an instant in the door of the pink room. Madam +Chartley had looked very imposing and dignified +as she presided at the lunch-table that noon, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +the stately Hawkins behind her chair and the stately +portraits looking down from the walls.</p> + +<p>She looked now as if she might be the original +of one of these old portraits herself, as she sat there +in the high-backed chair, with the griffins carved +on its teakwood frame. Her gray gown trailed +around her in graceful folds. There was a soft +fall of lace at wrists and throat, and her white hair +had a sheen like silver against the pink brocade with +which the chair was upholstered.</p> + +<p>With a smile which seemed to take Betty straight +into her confidence, she held out her hand and drew +her to a seat beside her. An old-fashioned silver +tea-service stood on a table at her elbow, and when +the maid had brought hot water, she busied herself +in filling a cup for Betty.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said, as she passed it to her. +"There's nothing like a cozy chat over a cup of +tea for warming acquaintances into friends."</p> + +<p>Betty wondered, as she took a proffered slice of +lemon, if Madam began all her interviews in this +way, and if she was to hear the same little sermon +about the crest on the ancestral teacups that Kitty +had heard. It certainly was an interesting crest. +She lifted the fragile bit of china for a closer survey. +A mailed arm, rising out of a heart, clasped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +a spear in its hand, and under it ran the motto, "I +keep tryst."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="283" height="500" alt=""MADAM'S CONVERSATION LED FAR AWAY FROM THE CREST AND ITS LESSON"" title=""MADAM'S CONVERSATION LED FAR AWAY FROM THE CREST AND ITS LESSON"" /> +<span class="caption">"MADAM'S CONVERSATION LED FAR AWAY FROM THE CREST AND ITS LESSON"</span> +</div> + +<p>But Madam's conversation led far away from +the crest and its lesson. At first it was about a +quaint old English inn, where is served delicious +toasted scones with five o'clock tea. When she +mentioned that, it was as if they had discovered +a mutual friend, for Betty cried out joyfully that +she had been there, and had spent a long rainy +afternoon in one of its rooms, where Scott had written +many chapters of "Kenilworth." Betty remembered +afterward that not a word was said about +school and its obligations. It was of the Old +Curiosity Shop they spoke, and the House of +Seven Gables. Madam promised to show her the +autographs of Dickens and Hawthorne, which she +had in her collection, and a pen which had once +belonged to George Eliot.</p> + +<p>Then Betty found that Madam had known Miss +Alcott, and, before she realized what she was doing, +she had thrown herself down impulsively on the +stool at her feet, and, with both hands clasping the +griffin's head on the arm of the high-backed chair, +was asking a dozen eager questions about "Little +Women" and the author who had been her first +inspiration to write.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nearly an hour later, when she went back to her +room, it was with something singing in her heart +that made her very solemn and very happy. It +was the immortal music of the Choir Invisible. +She had been in the unseen company of earth's +best and noblest, and felt in her soul that some day +she, too, would have a right to be counted in that +chorus, having done something really great and +worth while.</p> + +<p>That evening after dinner Kitty bounced into +the room where Allison sat talking with Lloyd and +Betty during recreation hour.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night there's to be the Old Girls' +Welcome to the New!" she cried. "Come on in, +Juliet, and tell them about it."</p> + +<p>Juliet thrust her head through the half-open door.</p> + +<p>"Haven't time to stop," she answered, "but I'll +tell this much. It's the first of the great social +functions. Everybody wears her party clothes and +a sweet smile. It's the first lesson of the year in +How to attain Ease under New and Exacting Conditions. +No matter how the seniors snub you later +on, in order to teach you your proper place, you'll +all be birds of a feather that one time, and flock +together as peaceably as pet hens.</p> + +<p>"Each new girl has an escort appointed by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +entertaining committee, who sends her flowers and +calls for her and sees that her programme is filled. +So there are never any wallflowers the first night. +No, Allison, it isn't a dance. The programmes are +for progressive conversation. Somewhere in the +background there's a piano playing waltzes and two-steps, +and so forth, but you talk out the numbers +instead of dancing them. Changing partners so +often keeps you from getting bored, and strangers +can tell who is talking to them, for there are the +names on their programmes. You can refer to +that when anybody comes up to claim you. I'm +to take Lloyd, and Sybil Green is to take Kitty. +I haven't found out the other assignments yet. I'll +let you know as soon as I do. Continued in our +next."</p> + +<p>With an airy wave of the hand she withdrew, +leaving them to an animated discussion of what +to wear.</p> + +<p>"You must remember that this isn't the only +time you're to appear in public, Katherine Walton," +said Allison, severely, when Kitty proposed her best +array. "There's to be a reception at the White +House next week, and Friday night we're to go in +to Washington to see Jefferson in 'Rip Van +Winkle,' and there's to be a studio tea soon, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +a recital, and all sorts of things. I saw the bulletin +of the term's entertainments in the hall this evening."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i>'ll never be seen at those things," insisted +Kitty.</p> + +<p>"We'll scarcely be a drop in the bucket. But +to-morrow night, isn't the whole affair for us? +We'll be the whole show. We'll be <i>it</i>, Allison, and +'it's my night to howl.' I intend to wear my rose-pink +mull and a rosebud in my raving tresses, and +carry the gorgeous spangled fan that the dear old +admiral gave me in Manila. So there!"</p> + +<p>"Then don't come near me," said Allison, with +a warning shake of her head, "for I am going to +wear my cerise crêpe de chine. It's lovely by itself, +but by the side of anything the shade of your pink +mull it's the most hideous, sickly colour you ever +saw. I <i>wish</i> you'd wear that pale green dress, +Kitty. You look sweet in that, and it goes so well +with mine."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear sister," laughed Kitty, "I don't +expect to spend any time getting acquainted with +<i>you</i>. I'll probably not be near you the whole evening. +It's not expected that, just because we are +from Kentucky, we have to pose as those two +devoted creatures on the State seal,—stand around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +with our hands clasped, exclaiming 'United we +stand, divided we fall!' to every one that comes +up."</p> + +<p>"Nevah mind, Allison," said Lloyd, laughing at +Kitty's dramatic gestures and her sister's worried +expression. "I'll play 'State seal' with you. I +have a pale green almost the shade of Kitty's, and +I'll wear the coral clasps and chains that were Papa +Jack's mothah's. He gave them to me just before +I left home. I'll show them to you."</p> + +<p>She began to rummage through her trunk. Betty +sat looking at the ceiling, trying to decide the momentous +question of dress for herself. Finally she +announced: "I'll just wear white, then I'll harmonize +with everybody, and can run up to the first +one of you I happen to see when I need a spark +of courage. I know I'll be terribly embarrassed. +It makes me cold right now to think of meeting +so many strangers."</p> + +<p>But Betty's courage needed no reinforcing next +evening, when Maria Overlin, one of the seniors, +took her in charge. The reception took place in +what had been the ballroom, in the days when Warwick +Hall was noted for its brilliant entertainments. +Even its first hostess could not have received her +distinguished guests with courtlier grace than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +Madam Chartley received her pupils, when, to the +music of a stately minuet, they filed past her down +the long line of teachers.</p> + +<p>For once, each of the new girls, no matter how +timid or inexperienced in social ways, tasted the +sweets of popularity, and the four whom Juliet +Lynn had dubbed the Kentucky quartette were overwhelmed +with attentions.</p> + +<p>Juliet, who had hoped to escort Betty, was glad +that Lloyd had fallen to her lot when she saw what +an admiring little court flocked around her wherever +she turned. In the pale green dress, with its +clasps of pink coral carved in the shape of tiny +butterflies, she looked more princess-like than ever. +She wore a bracelet of the coral butterflies also, and +a slender circlet of them about her throat. They +gave a soft pink flush to her cheeks.</p> + +<p>No sooner had she passed the receiving line than +she was surrounded by a group of white-gowned +girls clamouring for an introduction and a place +on her programme.</p> + +<p>"Whose initials are these?" she whispered to +Juliet presently when the card was all filled and +there were still several girls asking to be allowed +to write their names on it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Couldn't I give Miss Bartlett this line where +there's nothing but G. M. scrawled on it?"</p> + +<p>"Mercy, no!" exclaimed Juliet. "That's for +Gabrielle Melville. It would never do for you two +to miss each other to-night. I put them down for +her, as she's to play later in the evening on the +violin, you know, and I knew she'd never get here +in time to do it herself. She always has such frantic +times dressing. Just struggles into her things, +never can find half her clothes, and what she does +manage to fall into catches and rips in the struggle. +Her hat is always over one ear, and her belts never +make connection in the back, but she's so adorable +that nobody minds her wild toilets. They laugh +and say, 'Oh, it's just Gay.' That's her nickname, +you know. Here's Emily Chapman coming to claim +you. Emily, you can tell Lloyd some things about +Gay, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think so," laughed Emily. "We +roomed together last year, and I got her again +this term. It took a fight, though, for she's the +most popular girl in school."</p> + +<p>"Is she pretty?" asked Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"We think so, don't we, Juliet? If she had any +enemies, they might say that she has red hair and +a pug nose. But that would be exaggerating. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +hair is that beautiful bronzy auburn that crinkles +around her face and blows in her eyes till she always +seems to be bringing a breeze with her."</p> + +<p>"And her nose isn't pug exactly," chimed in +Juliet. "There's just a darling, saucy little tip to +it, that seems to suit her. She wouldn't be half as +pretty with the approved Gibson girl kind, no matter +how perfect it was."</p> + +<p>"And her complexion is so lovely," Emily resumed, +enthusiastically. "And her eyes are a jolly, +laughing kind of brown, with an amber sparkle in +them, except when she gets into one of her intense, +serious moods. Then they are almost black, they're +so deep and velvety. She's never twice in the same +mood. Oh! There she comes now."</p> + +<p>A side door opened, and a slim little thing all +in white, with a violin under her arm and a distracted +pucker on her face, hurried up to the piano. +Nervously feeling her belt to make sure that she +was presentable before turning her back on the +audience, she whispered to the girl who was to play +her accompaniments, and began tuning the violin. +Then, tucking it under her chin as if she loved it, +she listened an instant to the piano prelude, and +drew her bow softly across the strings.</p> + +<p>"Good!" whispered Emily. "It's that Mexi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>can +swallow song. She always has such a rapt +expression on her face when she plays that. She +makes me think of St. Cecilia. She's so earnest +in all she does. If it's no more than making fudge, +she throws her whole soul into it, just that way. +She's as intense as if the fate of a nation depended +on whatever she happens to be doing."</p> + +<p>As Lloyd joined loudly in the applause which +followed the performance, another girl came up to +claim her attention. It was Myra Carr, the senior +who had taken Allison under her wing.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't Gay play splendidly?" she exclaimed, +not knowing that she had been the previous topic +of conversation. "We think she's a genius. She +improvises little things sometimes in the twilight +that are so sweet and sad they make you cry. Then +she's unconventional enough to be a genius. She's +always shocking people without meaning to, and so +careless, she'd lose her head if nature hadn't attended +to the fastenings.</p> + +<p>"We all love her dearly, but we vowed the last +time we went sightseeing that she should never go +with us again unless she let us tie her up in a bag, +so that nothing could drop out by the way. First +she lost her hat. It blew off the trolley-car, one +of those 'seeing Washington' affairs, you know.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +She had to go bareheaded all the rest of the way. +Then she lost her pocketbook, and such a time as +we had hunting that. The time before, she lost a +locket that had been a family heirloom, and we +missed our train and got caught in a shower looking +for it."</p> + +<p>"Where does she live?" asked Lloyd, watching +the bright face that was making its way toward +them across the crowded room.</p> + +<p>"At Fort Sam Houston, down in San Antonio. +Her father is an army officer at that post."</p> + +<p>There was no time for further discussion, for +Gabrielle was coming toward her with outstretched +hand.</p> + +<p>"This is Juliet's Princess, isn't it?" she asked, +with a smile that captivated Lloyd at once, flashing +over the whitest of little teeth. "You're getting all +sorts of titles to-night. I heard a girl speak of you +as a mermaid in that pale sea-green gown and corals, +but I've come over here on purpose to call you +the 'Little Colonel.' You don't know how much +good it does me to hear a military title once more. +Out at the fort it's all majors and captains and such +things."</p> + +<p>Then, dropping her grown-up society manner,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +she suddenly giggled, turning to include Emily in +the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, girls, I had the worst time getting dressed +this evening that I ever had in my life. When I +unpacked my trunk yesterday, everything was so +wrinkled that there was only one dress I could wear +without having it pressed; this white one. So I +laid it out, but, when I went to put it on to-night, +I found that mamma had made a mistake in packing, +and put in Lucy's skirt instead. Lucy is my +older sister," she explained to Lloyd. "We each +had a dotted Swiss this summer, made exactly alike, +but Lucy is so much taller than I that her skirts +trail on me. Just look how imposing!"</p> + +<p>She swept across the floor and back to show the +effect of her trail.</p> + +<p>"Of course there was nothing to do at that late +hour but pin it up in front and go ahead. I'm +afraid every minute that I'll trip and fall all over +myself, but I do feel so dignified when I feel my +train sweeping along behind me. The pins keep +falling out all around the belt, and I can't help +stepping on the hem in front. I love trains," she +added, switching hers forward with a grand air +that was so childlike in its enjoyment that Lloyd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +felt impelled to hug her. "It gives you such a +dressed-up, peacocky feeling."</p> + +<p>Then she looked up in her most soulful, intense +way, as if she were asking for important information. +"Do you know whether it's true or not? +<i>Does</i> a peacock stop strutting if it happens to see +its feet? My old nurse told me that, and said that +it shows that pride always goes before a fall. I +never was where they kept peacocks before I came +to Warwick Hall, and I've spent hours watching +Madam's to see if it is true. But they are always +so busy strutting, I've never been able to catch +them looking at their feet."</p> + +<p>She glanced at her own feet as she spoke, then +gasped and, covering her face with her hands, sank +limply into a chair in the corner behind her.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" cried Juliet, alarmed by +the sudden change.</p> + +<p>"Look! Oh, just <i>look!</i>" was the hysterical answer, +as she thrust out both feet, and sat pointing +at them tragically, with fingers and thumbs of both +hands outspread.</p> + +<p>"No wonder they felt queer. I was so intent on +getting my dress pinned up, and in rushing out in +time to play, that I couldn't take time to analyze +my feelings and discover the cause of the queerness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +Madeline blew in at a critical point to borrow a pin, +and that threw me off, I suppose."</p> + +<p>From under the white skirt protruded two feet +as unlike as could well be imagined. One was cased +in dainty white kid, the other in an old red felt +bedroom slipper, edged with black fur.</p> + +<p>"And it would have been all the same," sighed +Gay, "if I had been going to an inaugural ball +to hobnob with crowned heads. And I had hoped +to make <i>such</i> a fine impression on the Little Colonel," +she added, in a plaintive tone, with a childlike +lifting of the face that Lloyd thought most charming.</p> + +<p>If the mistake had been made by any other girl +in the school, it would not have seemed half so +ridiculous, but whatever Gay did was irresistibly +funny. A laughing crowd gathered around her, +as she sat with the red slipper and the white one +stretched stiffly out in front of her, bewailing her +fate.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow," she remarked, "I'll always have the +satisfaction of knowing that I put my best foot foremost, +and if they had been alike I couldn't have +done that. Now could I?" And the girls laughed +again, because it was Gay who said it in her own +inimitable way, and because the old felt slipper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +looked so ridiculous thrust out from under the +dainty white gown. As others came crowding up +to see what was causing so much merriment in that +particular corner, Gay attempted to slip out and go +to her room to correct her mistake. But Sybil +Green, pushing through the outer ring, came up +with Allison and Kitty.</p> + +<p>"Gay," she began, "here are the girls that you +especially wanted to meet: General Walton's daughters."</p> + +<p>Gay's face flushed with pleasure, and, forgetting +her errand, she impulsively stretched out a hand to +each, and held them while she talked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad to meet you!" she cried. "I +wish that I had known that you girls were here +yesterday before papa left. He is Major Melville, +and he was such a friend of your father's. He +was on that long Indian campaign with him in +Arizona, and I've heard him talk of him by the +hour. And last week"—here she lowered her +voice so that only Allison and Kitty heard, and +were thrilled by the sweet seriousness of it. "Last +week he took me out to Arlington to carry a great +wreath of laurel. When he'd laid it on the grave, +he stood there with bared head, looking all around, +and I heard him say, in a whisper, 'No one in all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +Arlington has won his laurels more bravely than +you, my captain.' You see it was as a captain that +papa knew him best. He would have been so +pleased to have seen you girls."</p> + +<p>Kitty squeezed the hand that still held hers and +answered, warmly: "Oh, you dear, I hope we'll +be as good friends as our fathers were!" And +Allison answered, winking back the tears that had +sprung to her eyes: "Thank you for telling us +about the laurel. Mother will appreciate it so +much."</p> + +<p>While this conversation was going on at Lloyd's +elbow, Betty came up to her on the other side. +"Please see if my dress is all right in the back," +she whispered. "It feels as if it were unfastened." +Then, as Lloyd assured her it was properly buttoned, +she added, in an undertone: "Have you met +Maud Minor? She's one of the new girls."</p> + +<p>Lloyd shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm going to introduce you as soon as I +can. She knows Malcolm MacIntyre."</p> + +<p>"Knows Malcolm!" exclaimed Lloyd, in amazement. +"Where on earth did she ever meet him?"</p> + +<p>"At the seashore last summer. She can't talk +about anything else. She thinks he is so handsome +and has such beautiful manners and is so adorably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +romantic. Those are her very words. She has +his picture. Evidently he has talked to her about +you, for she's so curious to know you. She asked +a string of questions that I thought were almost +impertinent."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" asked Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"There, that girl in white crossing the room +with the fat one in lavender."</p> + +<p>Lloyd gave a long, critical look, and then said, +slowly: "She's the prettiest girl in the room, and +she makes me think of something I've read, but +I can't recall it."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Betty, "but you'll laugh at me +if I say Tennyson again. It's from 'Maud'—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'I kissed her slender hand.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">She took the kiss sedately.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Maud is not seventeen,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">But she is tall and stately.'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"But she is not as sedate as she looks," added +Betty, truthfully. "I'd like her better if she didn't +gush. That's the only word that will express it. +And it seemed queer for her to take me into her +confidence the minute she was introduced. Right +away she gave me to understand that she'd had a +sort of an affair with Malcolm. She didn't say +so in so many words, but she gave me the impression<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +that he had been deeply interested in her, in +a romantic way, you know."</p> + +<p>Lloyd looked at Maud again, more critically this +time, and with keener interest. Then her thoughts +flew back to the churchyard stile where they had +paused in their gathering of Christmas greens one +winter day. For an instant she seemed to see the +handsome boy looking down at her, begging a token +of the Princess Winsome, and saying, in a low +tone, "I'll be whatever you want me to be, Lloyd."</p> + +<p>Juliet's voice broke in on her reverie. "Miss +Sherman, allow me to present Miss Minor."</p> + +<p>Maud was slightly taller than Lloyd, but it was +not her extra inches alone which seemed to give her +the air of looking down on every one. It was her +patronizing manner. Lloyd resented it. Instinctively +she drew herself up and responded somewhat +haughtily.</p> + +<p>"My dear, I've been simply <i>dying</i> to meet you," +began Maud, effusively. "Ever since I found out +that you were the girl Malcolm MacIntyre used to +be so fond of."</p> + +<p>Lloyd responded coldly, certain that Malcolm had +not discussed their friendship in a way to warrant +this outburst from a stranger.</p> + +<p>"Do you know his brothah Keith, too?" she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +asked. "We're devoted to both the boys. You +might say we grew up togethah, for they visited +in the Valley so much. We've been playmates since +we were babies. You must meet the Walton girls. +They are Malcolm's cousins, you know."</p> + +<p>Before Maud realized how it came about, Lloyd +had graciously turned her over to Allison and Kitty, +and made her escape with burning cheeks and a +resentful feeling. Maud's words kept repeating +themselves: "So adorably romantic. The girl +Malcolm <i>used to be</i> so fond of!" They made her +vaguely uncomfortable. She wondered why.</p> + +<p>For another hour she went on making acquaintances +and adding to her store of information about +Warwick Hall. They couldn't have chafing-dishes +in their rooms, one frivolous sophomore told her. +The insurance companies objected after one girl +spilled a bottle of alcohol and set fire to the curtains. +But once a week those who pined for candy +could make it over the gas-stove in the Domestic +Science kitchen. Those who were too lazy to make +it could buy it Monday afternoons from Mammy +Easter, an old coloured woman who lived in a cabin +on the place. She was famous for her pralines, +the sophomore declared. "We have jolly charades +and impromptu tableaux up in the gymnasium<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +sometimes. Oh, school at the Hall is one grand +lark!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe it," said the spectacled junior +who monopolized Lloyd next. "It's a hard dig to +keep up to the mark they set here. But I must say +it is an agreeable kind of a dig," she added.</p> + +<p>"It's good just to wake up in the morning and +know there's going to be another whole day of it. +The classes are so interesting, and the teachers so +interested in us, that they bring out the very best +in everybody. Even a grasshopper would have its +ambition aroused if it stayed in this atmosphere +long."</p> + +<p>She peered at Lloyd through her glasses as if +to satisfy herself that she would be understood, +and then added, confidentially: "I can fairly feel +myself grow here. I feel the way I imagine the +morning-glories do when they find themselves +climbing up the trellis. They just stretch out their +hands and everything helps them up,—the sun +and the soil, the wind and the dew. And here at +Warwick Hall there's so much to help. Even the +little glimpses we get over the garden wall into the +outside world of Washington, with its politics and +great men. But those two people over there help +me most of all." She nodded toward Madam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +Chartley and Miss Chilton, the teacher of English, +who were now seated together on a sofa near the +door.</p> + +<p>"When I look at them I feel that the morning-glory +vine must climb just as high as it possibly +can, and shake out a wealth of bells in return for +all that has been given toward its growth. Don't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Lloyd, slightly embarrassed by +the soulful gaze turned on her through the spectacles. +"Betty would enjoy knowing you," she +exclaimed. "She is always saying and writing +such things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought that you were the one that +writes," answered the junior. "Aren't you the +one the freshmen are going to elect class editor +for their page of the college paper?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" protested Lloyd, laughing at the +idea. "Come across the room with me and I'll find +Betty for you."</p> + +<p>"There won't be time to-night," responded the +junior, "for there goes the music that means good +night. They always play 'America' as a signal +that it's time to go."</p> + +<p>"What makes you so quiet?" asked Betty, a +little later, as they slowly undressed. She had chattered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +along, commenting on the events of the evening, +ever since they came to their room, but Lloyd +had seemed remarkably unresponsive.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," yawned Lloyd. "I was just +thinking of that fairy-tale of the three weavers. I'll +turn out the light."</p> + +<p>As she reached up to press the electric button, +she thought again, for the twentieth time, "I wonder +what it was that Malcolm told Maud Minor." +Then she nestled down among the pillows, saying, +sleepily, to herself: "Anyway, I'm mighty glad +that I nevah gave him that curl he begged for."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>AN EXCURSION</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a Sabbath afternoon in October, sunny +and still, with a purple haze resting on the distant +woodlands across the river. A warm odour of ripe +apples floated across the old peach orchard, for a +few rare pippin-trees stood in its midst, flaunting +the last of their fruitage from gnarled limbs, or +hiding it in the sear grass underneath.</p> + +<p>Here and there groups of bareheaded girls wandered +in the sun-flecked shade, exchanging confidences +and stooping now and then to pounce joyfully +upon some apple that had hitherto evaded +discovery. Betty, who had been reading aloud for +nearly an hour to a little group under one of the +largest trees, closed her book with a yawn. Lloyd +and Kitty leaned lazily back against the mossy +trunk, and Allison, with her arms around her knees, +gazed dreamily across the river. The only one +who did not seem to have fallen under the drowsy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +spell of the Indian summer afternoon was Gay. +Up in the tree above them, she lay stretched out +along a limb, peering down through the leaves like +a saucy squirrel.</p> + +<p>"What a Sleepy Hollow tale that was!" she +exclaimed. "It just suits the day, but it has hypnotized +all of you. Do wake up and be sociable."</p> + +<p>She began breaking off bits of twigs and dropping +them down on the heads below. One struck +Lloyd's ear, and she brushed it off impatiently, +thinking it was a bug. Gay laughed and began +teasingly:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"There was a young maiden named Lloyd,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whom reptiles always annoyed.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An innocent worm would cause her to squirm,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And cloyed—toyed—employed—</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>I'm stuck, Betty. Come to the rescue with a +rhyme."</div> + +<p>"So with germicide she's overjoyed," supplied +Betty, promptly.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said Kitty, waking up. +"Let's each make a Limerick. Five minutes is +the limit, and the one that hasn't his little verse +ready when the time is up will have to answer truthfully +any question the others agree to ask."</p> + +<p>"No," objected Lloyd. "I'd be suah to be it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +I can make the rhymes, but the lines limp too dreadfully +for any use."</p> + +<p>"We won't count that," promised Kitty, looking +at her chatelaine watch. "Now, one, two, three! +Fire away!"</p> + +<p>There was silence for a little space, broken only +by the soft cooing of a far-away dove. Then Betty +looked up with a satisfied smile. The anxious +pucker smoothed out of Lloyd's forehead, and Allison +nodded her readiness.</p> + +<p>"Lloyd first," called Kitty, looking at her watch +again.</p> + +<p>A mischievous smile brought the dimples to the +Little Colonel's face as she began:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"There's a girl in our school called Kitty,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Evidently not from the city.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With screeches and squawkin's</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She upset the nerves of poah old Hawkins.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oh, her behaviour was not at all pretty."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>A burst of laughter greeted Lloyd's attempt at +verse-making, for the subject which she had chosen +recalled one of Kitty's outbreaks the first week of +school, when the temptation to upset Hawkins's +dignity was more than she could resist. No one +of them who had seen Hawkins's wild exit from +the linen closet the night she hid on the top shelf,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +and raised his hair with her blood-curdling moans +and spectral warnings (having blown out his candle +from above), could think of the occurrence without +laughing till the tears came to their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now, Allison," said Kitty, when the final giggle +had died away. "It's your turn." Allison referred +to the lines she had scribbled on the back of a magazine:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"There is a young maiden, they say,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who grows more beloved every day.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When we talk or we ramble, there's always a scramble</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To be next to the maid who is <i>Gay</i>."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Whew! Thanks awfully!" came the embarrassed +exclamation from the boughs above, and +Betty cried, in surprise: "Why, I wrote about her, +too. I said:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Like the bow on the strings when she plays,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So she crosses with music our days.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Our hearts doth she tune to the gladness of June,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the smile that brings sunshine is Gay's."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"My dear, that's no Limerick, that's poetry!" +exclaimed Kitty, and Gay called down: "It's awfully +nice of you, girls, but please change the subject. +I'm so covered with confusion that I'm about +to fall off this limb."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, here's something mean enough to brace +you up," answered Kitty. "It's about Maud +Minor. It's hateful of me to write it, but I happened +to see her going down the terrace steps and it just +popped into my head:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"There is a young lady named Maud,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whose manners are overmuch thawed.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She'll beat an oil-well. When they'd gushed for a spell</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>It</i> would take a back seat and applaud."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"What's the matter, Kitty?" asked Betty, "I +thought you admired her immensely."</p> + +<p>"I did that first week, but it's just as I say. +She gushes over me so, simply because I am Malcolm's +cousin. I know very well that I am not +the dearest, cutest, brightest, most beautiful and +angelic being in the universe, and she isn't sincere +when she insists that I am. She overdoes it, and +is so <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'dreadfuly'">dreadfully</ins> effusive that I want to run whenever +she comes near me. I wish she wasn't going +on the excursion to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't worry me," said Gay. "I meet +her on her own ground and fire back her own adjectives +at her, doubled and twisted. She has let +me alone for some time."</p> + +<p>The discussion of Maud led their thoughts away +from Gay's Limerick, and Kitty forgot to ask for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +it. They sat in silence again, and the plaintive calling +of the dove sounded several times before any +one spoke.</p> + +<p>"It's so sweet and peaceful here," said Betty, +softly. "It makes me think of Lloydsboro Valley. +I could shut my eyes and almost believe I was back +in the old Seminary orchard."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad we're not," said Allison. "For then +we'd miss to-morrow's excursion. And I like having +our holiday on Monday instead of Saturday, +as we did there."</p> + +<p>"What excursion are you talking about?" asked +Gay, lazily swinging her foot over the limb.</p> + +<p>Betty explained. "We're going to see some rare +old books and illuminated manuscripts. Miss Chilton +has a friend in Washington who has one of +the finest private collections in the country, and +she offered to take any of the freshman class who +cared to go. Ten of us have accepted the invitation. +We're going to the Congressional Library +in the morning, take lunch at some restaurant, and +then call on this lady early in the afternoon. It +will be the only chance to see them, as she is going +abroad very soon, and the house will be closed for +the winter."</p> + +<p>"There are other things in the collection besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +books," said Allison "Some queer old musical instruments,—a +harpsichord and a lute, and an old +violin worth its weight in gold. Some of the +most noted violinists in the world have played +on it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know!" cried Gay, raising herself to +a sitting position and throwing away the core of +the apple she had been eating. "That's the excursion +I missed last year when I sprained my ankle. +I never was so disappointed in my life. I'm going +right now to ask Miss Chilton to take me, too. +I'm wild to get my fingers on that violin."</p> + +<p>Swinging lightly down from the limb to the +ground, she twisted around like a contortionist in +a vain attempt to see her back.</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed, feeling her belt with +a sigh of relief. "For a wonder there's nothing +torn or busted this trip. I must be reforming +Girls, what do you think! I haven't lost a single +thing for a whole week."</p> + +<p>"Don't brag," warned Lloyd. "Mom Beck +would say you'd bettah scratch on wood if you +don't want yoah luck to change."</p> + +<p>Gay shrugged her shoulders at the superstition, +but she reached over and lightly scratched the pencil +thrust through Betty's curly hair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There goes the first bell for vespers," said +Kitty, as they strolled slowly back toward the Hall, +five abreast and arm in arm. With one accord they +began to hum the hymn with which the service +always opened,—"Day is dying in the west."</p> + +<p>"It's going to be a fair day to-morrow," prophesied +Gay, pausing an instant on the chapel steps. +"There's Miss Chilton. I'll run over and ask her +now."</p> + +<p>"It's all right," she whispered several minutes +later, when she slipped into the seat next Lloyd. +"I can go. It'll be the greatest kind of a lark."</p> + +<p>As Sybil Green passed through the hall next +morning, where the excursionists were assembling, +Gay stopped her and began slowly revolving on +her heels. "Now view me with a critic's eye," she +commanded. "Gaze on me from chapeau to shoe +sole, and bear witness that I am properly girded +up for the occasion. See how severely neat and +plain I am. See how beautifully my belts make connection +in the back. Three big, stout safety-pins +will surely keep my skirt and shirt-waist together +till nightfall, and there's not a thing about me that +I can possibly lose."</p> + +<p>She was still turning around and around. "Not +a watch, ring, pin, or bangle! Not even a pocket<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>book. +Miss Chilton is carrying my car-fare, and +my handkerchief is up my sleeve."</p> + +<p>"You might lose your balance or your presence +of mind," laughed Sybil. "You'll have to watch +her, girls. How spick and span you all look," she +added, as they trooped past, behind Miss Chilton, +most of them in freshly laundered shirt-waist suits, +for the Indian summer day was as warm and sunny +as June.</p> + +<p>"It would be just about Gay's luck to run into +a watering-cart or lean up against a freshly painted +door, in that pretty pongee suit," she thought, +watching them out of sight.</p> + +<p>But for once Gay's lucky star was in the ascendant. +The trip to the library left her without spot +or wrinkle, and as she followed Miss Chilton into +the restaurant she could not help smiling at her +reflection in the mirror. It looked so trim and neat.</p> + +<p>The restaurant was crowded. The waiters rushed +back and forth, balancing their great trays on their +finger-tips in a reckless way that made Gay dodge +every time they passed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't laugh," she exclaimed, when +some one jokingly called attention to her. "I'm +born to trouble; and I have a feeling that something +is going to happen before the day is over."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>Something did happen almost immediately, but +not to Gay. Two of the pompous coloured men +collided just as they were passing Miss Chilton's +table. One tray dropped to the floor with a tremendous +crash of breaking dishes. The other was +caught dexterously in mid-air, but not before its +contents had turned a somersault and wrought ruin +all around it. A bowl of tomato soup splashed over +Lloyd's immaculate shirt-waist and ran in two long +red streaks across the shoulders of her duck jacket, +which she had hung on her chair-post. Her little +gasp of dismay was followed by one from Maud +Minor, whose dainty gray silk waist was spattered +plentifully with coffee.</p> + +<p>There was a profusion of apologies from the +waiters and a momentary confusion as the wreck +was cleared away. In the midst of it, Miss Chilton +was pleased and gratified to hear a low-pitched +voice at the table behind her say: "Those are Warwick +Hall girls. I recognize their chaperon, but +I would have known them anywhere from the ladylike +way they treated the affair. So quiet and self-controlled, +not a bit of fuss or excitement, and it +probably means that the day's outing will be spoiled +for two of them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girls proceeded with their dessert, but Miss +Chilton sat considering.</p> + +<p>"If you girls were only familiar with the city," +she said at last, looking at her watch, "I could +let you go to some shop and get new shirt-waists, +and you could meet me at my friend's afterward. +But even if you could find your way to the shop, +I would be afraid to risk your finding her house. +You would have to change cars and walk a block +after leaving the last one. I must keep my engagement +with her promptly, for she is an extremely +busy woman, and has granted this view of her +library as a personal favour to me."</p> + +<p>"Do let me take them, Miss Chilton," urged +Gay, eagerly. "I'm the only old girl in the crowd. +I learned my way all about town during last Christmas +vacation. We could meet you in time to see +part of the things. All I care for is that violin. +<i>Please</i> say yes. I'll be the strictest, most dignified +chaperon you ever heard of."</p> + +<p>Miss Chilton laughed at the expression of ferocity +which Gay's face suddenly assumed to convince +her that she could play the part she begged for.</p> + +<p>"Really that seems to be the only way out of +the difficulty," she answered. "I'll give you a note +to the department store which Madam Chartley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +always patronizes, so that you can have your purchases +charged."</p> + +<p>"What if we can't find anything to fit," suggested +Maud, "and it should take such a long time +to alter them that we'd be too late to meet you?"</p> + +<p>Miss Chilton considered again. "It's almost +preposterous to imagine that, but it is always well +to provide for every emergency. If anything unforeseen +should happen to delay you, or you can't +find the proper things to make yourselves presentable, +just go to the station and take the first car +back to the school. I'll inquire of the ticket agent, +and if you've left a card saying 'gone on,' I'll +know that you are safe. If you've left no word, +I'll put these girls on the car for home, and come +back and institute a search for you."</p> + +<p>While the others busied themselves with finger-bowls, +she wrote a hasty note on a leaf torn from +her memorandum book, which she gave to Maud. +Then she handed a card to Gay.</p> + +<p>"You are the pilot, so here is my friend's address +on this card. I've marked the line of cars +you're to take, and the avenue where you change."</p> + +<p>"Better let Lloyd take it," suggested Kitty. But, +with a saucy grimace, Gay folded it and slipped +it under her belt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There!" she said, fastening it with a big black +pin she borrowed from Allison. "I've woven that +pin in and out, first in the ribbon and then through +the card, till it's as tight as if it had grown there."</p> + +<p>"Can't you take us down an alley?" asked Lloyd. +"It mawtifies me dreadfully to have to go down +the street looking like this."</p> + +<p>"The car-line that passes this door goes directly +to the department store," answered Gay. "It's only +a few blocks away, but we'll take it. That tomato +soup on you certainly does look gory."</p> + +<p>Maud had taken the veil from her hat and thrown +it over her shoulders in a way to hide the coffee +stains. "Never mind," she said, carelessly, as they +left the restaurant. "Just hold your head up and +sail along with your most princess-like air, and +people will be so busy admiring you that they won't +have time to look at your soupy waist."</p> + +<p>"Ugh! It smells so greasy and horrid," sniffed +the Little Colonel, ignoring Maud's remark. "It's +just like dishwatah and bacon rinds. I want to get +away from it as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"Misses' white shirt-waists?" repeated the saleswoman +in the big department store, when they +reached it a few minutes later. "Certainly. Here +is something pretty. The newest fall goods."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>She led them to a counter piled high with boxes, +and they made a hasty selection. Some alteration +was needed in the collar of the one Lloyd chose, +and in the sleeves of Maud's. While they waited +in the fitting-room, turning over some back numbers +of fashion-plates and magazines, Gay amused herself +by wandering around the millinery department, +trying on hats. Presently she found one so becoming +that she ran back to them, delighted.</p> + +<p>"It isn't once in a thousand years that I find a +picture hat that looks well with my pug nose!" +she cried. "But gaze on this!"</p> + +<p>She revolved slowly before them, so radiantly +pleased over her discovery that she looked unusually +pretty. Both girls exclaimed over its becomingness. +Then Lloyd's gaze wandered from the airy structure +of chiffon and flowers down Gay's back to her +waist-line.</p> + +<p>"Mercy, child!" she exclaimed. "You've lost +your belt. Every one of those three safety-pins is +showing, and they each look a foot long!"</p> + +<p>Gay's hand flew wildly to the back of her dress, +but she felt in vain for a belt under which to hide +the pins. She turned toward them with a hopeless +drooping of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"<i>How</i> did I lose it?" she demanded, helplessly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +"It had the safest, strongest kind of a clasp. When +do you suppose I did it, and where? I must have +been a sight parading the street this way like an +animated pincushion."</p> + +<p>She passed her hand over the obtrusive pins +again. "I certainly had it on when we left the +restaurant. Yes, and after we got on the car to +come here, for I remember just after you paid the +fare I ran my fingers down inside of it to make +sure that Miss Chilton's card was still safely pinned +to it."</p> + +<p>Then she rolled up her eyes and fell limply back +against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Girls!" she exclaimed, in a despairing voice, +"the card is lost with it, too. I've no more idea +than the man in the moon where Miss Chilton's +friend lives, or what her name is, or what car-line +to take to get there. Do either of you remember +hearing her say anything that would throw any +light on the subject?"</p> + +<p>Neither Lloyd nor Maud could remember, and +the three stood staring at each other with startled +faces.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you dropped your belt coming up in +the elevator," suggested Maud. "You might inquire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +As soon as we get our clothes on, we'll +help you hunt."</p> + +<p>Gay flew to lay aside the picture hat for her own, +and, with her hands clutching her dress to hide +the unsightly safety-pins, started on her search +through the store.</p> + +<p>"We came straight past the ribbon counter and +the embroideries to the silks, and then we turned +here and took the elevator," she said to herself, +retracing her steps. But inquiries of the elevator +boy and every clerk along the line failed to elicit +any information about the lost belt.</p> + +<p>"No, it was only an ordinary belt that no one +would look at the second time," she explained to +those who asked for a description. "Just dark blue +ribbon with a plain oxidized silver clasp. But there +was an address pinned to it that is very important +for me to find."</p> + +<p>The floor-walker obligingly joined in the search, +going to the door and scanning the pavement and +the street-crossing at which they had left the car, +but to no purpose.</p> + +<p>"I can buy a new belt and have it charged," she +said to Lloyd, when she came back to report, "but +there is no way to get the lost address. If I could +only remember the name, I could look for it in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +the directory, but I never heard it. Miss Chilton +always spoke of the lady as 'my friend.'"</p> + +<p>"I heard her speak it once," said Lloyd, "but I +can't remembah it now."</p> + +<p>"Go over the alphabet," suggested Maud. "Say +all the names you can think of beginning with A +and then B, and so on. Maybe you will stumble +across one that you recognize as the right one."</p> + +<p>Lloyd shook her head. "No, it was an unusual +name, a long foreign-sounding one. I wondahed +at the time how she could trip it off her tongue so +easily."</p> + +<p>"Then we're lost! Hopelessly, helplessly undone!" +moaned Gay. "All our lovely outing +spoiled! You won't get to see the books, nor I +the violin. I know you are hating me horribly. +There's nothing to do but go back to Warwick +Hall, and leave a note with the ticket agent for +Miss Chilton."</p> + +<p>The tears stood in her eyes, and she looked so +broken-hearted that Lloyd put her arms around her, +insisting that it didn't make a mite of difference +to her. That she didn't care much for the old books, +anyhow, and for her not to grieve about it another +minute.</p> + +<p>Maud's face darkened as she listened. Presently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +she said: "I don't care particularly about the books, +either, but I don't see any use of our losing the +entire holiday. You know your way about the city, +Gay; I have some car-fare in my purse, and so +has Lloyd. We can go larking by ourselves."</p> + +<p>The dressmaker came back with Maud's waist. +She put it on, and Gay went for her belt. While +Lloyd was still waiting for her waist, Maud sauntered +out of the fitting-room, and asked permission +to use the telephone. She was still using it when +Gay joined them.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," Maud called to her invisible +auditor, and, still holding the receiver, turned +toward the girls.</p> + +<p>"Such grand luck!" she exclaimed, in a low +tone. "I just happened to think of a young fellow +I know here in town—Charlie Downs. He is +always ready for anything going, and, when I telephoned +him the predicament we are in, he said right +away he would meet us down here and take us all +to the matinée."</p> + +<p>"Charlie Downs," echoed Gay. "I never heard +of him."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't make any difference," Maud answered, +hurriedly. Then, in a still lower tone, with +her back to the telephone: "He's all right. He's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +a sort of a distant relative of mine,—that is, his +cousin married into our family. I can vouch for +Charlie. He's a young medical student, and he's +in old Doctor Spencer's office. Everybody knows +Doctor Spencer, one of the finest specialists in the +country."</p> + +<p>She turned toward the telephone again, but Gay +stopped her. "It's out of the question, Maud, for +us to accept such an invitation. It's kind of him +to ask us, but you're in my charge, and I'll have to +take the responsibility of refusing."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never heard the like of that!" said +Maud, angrily, looking down on Gay in such a +scornful, disgusted way that Lloyd would have +laughed had the situation not been so tragic. Gay, +trying to be commanding, reminded her of an anxious +little hen, ruffling its feathers because the obstinate +duckling in its brood refused to come out +of the water.</p> + +<p>"Madam Chartley wouldn't like it," urged Gay.</p> + +<p>"Then she should have made rules to that effect. +You know there's not a single one that would stand +in the way of our doing this."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is. It's an unwritten one, but it's +the one law of the Hall that Madam expects every +one to live up to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"May I ask what?" Maud's tone was freezingly +polite.</p> + +<p>"The motto under the crest. It's on everything +you know, the old earl's teacups, the stationery, and +everything—'Keep tryst.'"</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks for the old earl's teacups!" said +Maud, shrugging her shoulders. "It's unreasonable +to expect us to keep tryst with Miss Chilton +now."</p> + +<p>"Not that," said Gay, ready to cry. "We're +to keep tryst with what she expects of us. She +expects us to do the right thing under all circumstances, +and you know the right thing now is to +go home. We were recognized at the restaurant +as Warwick Hall girls, and we might be again at +the matinée. What would people think of the +school if they saw three of the girls there with a +strange young man without a chaperon?"</p> + +<p>"You're the chaperon. If you'd do to take us +shopping, you'd do for that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maud, don't be unreasonable," urged Gay. +"It's entirely different. Don't be offended, please, +but we can't go. It's simply out of the question."</p> + +<p>"Indeed it isn't," answered Maud, turning again +to the telephone. "Go home if you want to, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +Lloyd and I will do as we please. I'll accept for +us."</p> + +<p>This time Lloyd stopped her. "Wait! Let's +telephone out to the Hall and ask Madam."</p> + +<p>Maud shrugged her shoulders. "You know very +well she'd say no if you asked her beforehand." +Then the two heard one side of her conversation +over the telephone.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Charlie! Sorry to keep you waiting so +long."</p> + +<p>"The girls are afraid to go."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose so."</p> + +<p>"I'm perfectly willing. I'll ask them."</p> + +<p>Then turning again, with the receiver in her +hand: "He says that the matinée will probably be +over before the second train out to the Hall, and, +if it isn't, we can leave a little earlier and be at +the station before Miss Chilton gets there, and she +need never know but what we've just been streetcar +riding, as we first planned."</p> + +<p>"Then that settles it!" exclaimed Lloyd. "If +he said that, I wouldn't go with him for anything +in the world."</p> + +<p>"Why?" demanded Maud. Her eyes flashed +angrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because—because," stammered Lloyd. "Well, +it'll make you mad, but I can't help it. Papa Jack +said one time that an honourable man would never +ask me to do anything clandestine. And it would +be sneaking to do as he proposes."</p> + +<p>Maud was white with rage, and the hand that +held the receiver trembled. "Have the goodness +to keep your insulting remarks to yourself in the +future, Miss Sherman."</p> + +<p>"Please don't go," begged Gay. "I feel so responsible +for getting you home safely, and it <i>would</i> +be sneaking, you know, to pretend we'd been simply +trolley-riding when we'd been off with him."</p> + +<p>"You're nasty little cats to say such things!" +stormed Maud. "I don't want to have anything +more to do with either of you. Go on home and +leave me alone. Hello! Hello, Charlie!"</p> + +<p>They heard her make an engagement to meet him +at the drug-store on the next corner. Then she +sailed out of the store past them, without a glance +in their direction. Gay began fumbling up her +sleeve for her handkerchief. The tears were gathering +too fast to be winked back.</p> + +<p>"It's all my fault," she sobbed. "Oh, if I hadn't +lost that unlucky belt. To think that I begged to +be a chaperon, and then wasn't fit to be trusted."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lloyd tried vainly to comfort her. A little later +two disconsolate-looking girls took the first afternoon +train out to Warwick Hall, and stole up to +Lloyd's room. As Betty was with Miss Chilton, +no one knew of their arrival, and they spent several +uncomfortable hours agonizing over the question +of what they should say when they were called +to account. They decided at last that they would +give no more information about Maud than that +a distant relative had called for her.</p> + +<p>At five o'clock, Miss Chilton reached the ticket-office +with her little brood, and found Lloyd's card +with the words "gone on" scribbled in one corner. +Lloyd and Gay, watching at the window for their +arrival, saw with sinking hearts that Maud was +not with them. They hoped that she would come +on the same train, and would be forced to make her +own explanations. But they were not called upon +to explain her disappearance. Miss Chilton, almost +distracted with an attack of neuralgic headache, +went to her room immediately, and sent down word +that she would not appear at dinner.</p> + +<p>"She'll surely come on the next train," Gay +whispered to Lloyd, but the whistle sounded at the +station, and they watched the clock in vain. Ample +time passed for one to have walked the distance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +twice from the station to the Hall, but no one +came.</p> + +<p>It was half-past six when they filed down to +dinner. The halls were lighted, and all the chandeliers +in the great dining-room glowed.</p> + +<p>As they passed the window on the stair-landing, +Lloyd pressed her face against the pane and peered +out into the darkness. Gay, just behind her, paused +and peered also.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose has happened?" she +whispered. "It's as dark as a pocket, and Maud +hasn't come yet."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>"KEEP TRYST"</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lloyd</span> and Betty were starting to undress when +there was a light tap at the door, and Gay's head +appeared. In response to their eager call, she came +in, and, shutting the door behind her, stood with +her back against it.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't sit down," she answered. "It's +too late to stop. I only ran in to tell you that Maud +got home about five minutes ago. 'Charlie' came +with her as far as the door and Madam has just +sent for her to demand an explanation. She told +her roommate that she knew she was in for a scolding, +and that, as one might as well be killed for +a sheep as a lamb, she made her good time last as +long as she could. After the matinée they had a +little supper at some roof-garden or café or something +of the kind, where there was a band concert. +Then he brought her out on the car, and they +strolled along the river road home. The moon was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +just beginning to come up. She's had a beautiful +time, and thinks she has done something awfully +cute, but she'll think differently by the time Madam +is through with her."</p> + +<p>"Will she be very terrible?" asked Lloyd, pausing +with brush in hand.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," answered Gay. "Nothing like +this has happened since I have been at the Hall, +but I've heard her say that this is not a reform +school, and girls who have to be punished and +scolded are not wanted here. If they can't measure +up to the standard of good behaviour, they can't +stay. As long as this is the first offence, she'll +probably be given another trial, but I'd not care to +be in her shoes when Madam calls her to judgment."</p> + +<p>No one ever knew what passed between the two +in the up-stairs office, but Maud sailed down to +breakfast next morning as if nothing had happened. +The only difference in her manner was when Lloyd +and Gay took their places opposite her at the table. +They glanced across with the usual good morning, +but she looked past them as if she neither saw nor +heard.</p> + +<p>"Cut dead!" whispered Lloyd. Gay giggled, as +she unfolded her napkin. "I'm very sure she has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +no cause to be angry with us. We are the ones +who ought to act offended."</p> + +<p>Soon after breakfast they were called into Miss +Chilton's room, but to their great relief found that +she already knew what had happened, and that they +were to be questioned only about their own part +in the affair. So presently Gay passed out to her +Latin recitation, and Lloyd wandered around the +room, waiting for the literature class to assemble.</p> + +<p>Miss Chilton's room was the most attractive one +in the Hall. It looked more like a cheerful library +than a schoolroom. Low book-shelves lined the +walls, with here and there a fine bust in bronze or +Carrara marble. Pictures from many lands added +interest, and the wicker chairs, instead of being +arranged in stiff rows, stood invitingly about, as +if in a private parlour. There were always violets +on Miss Chilton's desk, and ferns and palms in the +sunny south windows. The recitations were carried +on in such a delightfully informal way that +the girls looked forward to this hour as one of the +pleasantest of the day.</p> + +<p>This morning, to their surprise, instead of questioning +them about the topic they had studied, Romance +of the Middle Ages, she announced that she +had a story which Madam Chartley had requested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +her to read to them, and she wished such close attention +paid to it that afterward each one could +write it from memory for the next day's lesson.</p> + +<p>"I have a reason for wishing to impress this little +tale indelibly on your minds," she said, "so I shall +offer this inducement for concentrating your attention +upon it: five credits to each one who can hand +in a full synopsis of the story, and ten to the one +who can reproduce it most literally and fully."</p> + +<p>There was a slight flutter of expectancy as the +class settled itself to listen, and, opening the little +green and gold volume where a white ribbon kept +the place, she began to read:<br /><br /></p> + + +<p>"Now there was a troubadour in the kingdom +of Arthur, who, strolling through the land with +only his minstrelsy to win him a way, found in +every baron's hall and cotter's hut a ready welcome. +And while the boar's head sputtered on the spit, +or the ale sparkled in the shining tankards, he told +such tales of joust and journey, and feats of brave +knight errantry, that even the scullions left their +kitchen tasks, and, creeping near, stood round the +door with mouths agape to listen.</p> + +<p>"Then with his harp-strings tuned to echoes of +the wind on winter moors, he sang of death and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +valour on the field, of love and fealty in the hall, +till those who listened forgot all save his singing +and the noble knights whereof he sang.</p> + +<p>"One winter night, as thus he carolled in a great +earl's hall, a little page crept nearer to his bench +beside the fire, and, with his blue eyes fixed in wonderment +upon the graybeard's face, stood spellbound. +Now Ederyn was the page's name, an +orphan lad whose lineage no man knew, but that +he came of gentle blood all eyes could see, although +as vassal 'twas his lot to wait upon the great earl's +squire.</p> + +<p>"It was the Yule-tide, and the wassail-bowl passed +round till boisterous mirth drowned oftentimes the +minstrel's song, but Ederyn missed no word. Scarce +knowing what he did, he crept so close he found +himself with upturned face against the old man's +knee.</p> + +<p>"'How now, thou flaxen-haired,' the minstrel +said, with kindly smile. 'Dost like my song?'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, sire,' the youth made answer, 'methinks +on such a wing the soul could well take flight to +Paradise. But tell me, prithee, is it possible for +such as <i>I</i> to gain the title of a knight? How doth +one win such honours and acclaim and reach the +high estate that thou dost laud?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The minstrel gazed a little space into the Yule +log's flame, and stroked his long hoar beard. Then +made he answer:</p> + +<p>"'Some win their spurs and earn the royal accolade +because the blood of dragons stains their +hands. From mighty combat with these terrors +they come victorious to their king's reward. And +some there be sore scarred with conquest of the +giants that ever prey upon the borders of our fair +domain. Some, who have gone on far crusades to +alien lands, and there with heart of gold and iron +hand have proved their fealty to the Crown.'</p> + +<p>"Then Ederyn sighed, for well he knew his +stripling form could never wage fierce combat with +a dragon. His hands could never meet the brawny +grip of giants. 'Is there no other way?' he faltered.</p> + +<p>'I wot not,' was the answer. 'But take an old +man's counsel. Forget thy dreams of glory, and +be content to serve thy squire. For what hast such +as thou to do with great ambitions? They'd prove +but flames to burn away thy daily peace.'</p> + +<p>"With that he turned to quaff the proffered +bowl and add his voice to those whose mirth already +shook the rafters. Nor had he any further +speech with Ederyn. But afterward the pretty lad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +was often in his thoughts, and in his wanderings +about the land he mused upon the question he had +asked.</p> + +<p>"Another twelvemonth sped its way, and once +again the Yule log burned within the hall, and once +again the troubadour knocked at the gate, all in +the night and falling snow. And as before, with +merry jests they led him in and made him welcome. +And as before, was every mouth agape from +squire's to scullion's, as he sang.</p> + +<p>"Once more he sang of knights and ladyes fair, +of love and death and valour; and Ederyn, the +page, crept nearer to him till the harp-strings ceased +to thrill. With head upon his hands, he sat and +sighed. Not even when the wassail-bowl was +passed with mirth and laughter did he look up. +And when the graybeard minstrel saw his grief, +he thought upon his question of the Yule-tide gone.</p> + +<p>"'Ah, now, thou flaxen-haired,' he whispered in +his ear. 'I bear thee tidings which should make +thee sing for joy. There is a way for even such +as thou to win the honours thou dost covet. I heard +it in the royal court when last I sang there at the +king's behest.'</p> + +<p>"Then all aquiver with his eagerness did Ederyn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +kneel, with face alight, beside the minstrel's knee +to hear.</p> + +<p>"'Know this,' began the graybeard. ''Tis the +king's desire to 'stablish round him at his court +a chosen circle whose fidelity hath stood the utmost +test. Not deeds of prowess are required of these +true followers, with no great conquests doth he tax +them, but they must prove themselves trustworthy, +until on hand and heart it may be graven large, +"<i>In all things faithful.</i>"</p> + +<p>"'To Merlin, the enchanter, he hath left the +choice, who by some strange spell I wot not of will +send an eerie call through all the kingdom. And +only those will hear who wake at dawn to listen +in high places. And only those will heed who keep +the compass needles of their souls true to the north +star of a great ambition. The time of testing will +be long, the summons many. To duty and to sorrow, +to disappointment and defeat, thou may'st be +called. No matter what the tryst, there is but one +reply if thou wouldst win thy knighthood. Give +heed and I will teach thee now that answer.'</p> + +<p>"Then smiting on his harp, the minstrel sang, +so softly under cover of the noise, that only Ederyn +heard. Through all the song ran ever this refrain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +It seemed a brooklet winding in and out through +some fair meadow:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"''Tis the king's call. O list!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Keep tryst or die!'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Then Ederyn, with his hand upon his heart, +made solemn oath. 'Awake at dawn and listening +in high places will I await that call. With the compass +needle of my soul true to the north star of +a great ambition will I follow where it leads, and +though through fire and flood it take me, I'll make +but this reply:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"''Tis the king's call. O list!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Keep tryst or die!'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Pressing the old man's hand in gratitude (he +could say no word for the strange fulness in his +throat that well-nigh choked him), he rose from +his knees and left the hall to muse on what had +passed.</p> + +<p>"That night he climbed into the tower, and, +with his face turned to the east, kept vigil all alone. +Below, the rioters waxed louder in their mirth. +The knife was in the meat, the drink was in the +horn. But he would not join their revels, lest morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +find him sunk in sodden sleep, heavy with feasting +and witless from wine.</p> + +<p>"As gray dawn trailed across the hills, he started +to his feet, for far away sounded the call for which +he had been waiting. It was like the faint blowing +of an elfin horn, but the words came clearly.</p> + +<p>"'Ederyn! Ederyn! One awaits thee at nightfall +in the shade of the yew-tree by the abbey tower! +Keep tryst!'</p> + +<p>"Now the abbey tower was the space of forty +furlongs from the domain of the earl, and full well +Ederyn knew that only by especial favour of his +squire could he gain leave of absence for this jaunt. +So, from sunrise until dusk, he worked with will, +to gain the wished-for leave. Never before did +buckles shine as did the buckles of the squire entrusted +to his polishing. Never did menial tasks +cease sooner to be drudgery, because of the good-will +with which he worked. And when the day +was done, so well had every duty been performed, +right willingly the squire did grant him grace, and +forthwith Ederyn sped upon his mission.</p> + +<p>"The way was long, and, when he reached the +abbey tree, he fell a-trembling, for there a tall wraith +stood within the shadows of the yew. No face +had it that he could see, its hands no substance,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +but he met it bravely, saying: 'I am Ederyn, come +to keep the king's tryst.'</p> + +<p>"And then the spectre's voice replied: 'Well +hast thou kept it, for 'tis known to me the many +menial tasks thou didst perform ere thou couldst +come upon thy quest. In token that we two have +met, here is my pledge that thou may'st keep to +show the king.'</p> + +<p>"He felt a light touch on the bosom of his inner +vestment, and suddenly he stood alone beside the +gruesome abbey. Clammy with fear, he knew not +why, he drew his mantle round him and sped home +as one speeds in a fearsome dream. And that it +was a dream he half-believed, when later, in the +hall, he served at meat those gathered round the +old earl's board. But when he sought his bed, and +threw aside his outer garment, there on his coarse, +rough shirt of hodden gray a pearl gleamed white +above his heart, where the wraith's cold hand had +touched him. It was the token to the king that +he had answered faithfully his call.</p> + +<p>"Again before the dawn he climbed into the +tower, and, listening when the voices of the world +were still, heard clear and sweet, like far-blown elfin +horn, another summons.</p> + +<p>"'Ederyn! Ederyn! One awaits thee at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +midnight hour beside black Kilgore's water. Keep +tryst!'</p> + +<p>"Again to gain his squire's permission he toiled +with double care. This time his task was counting +all the spears and halberds, the battle-axes and the +coats of mail that filled the earl's great armament. +And o'er and o'er he counted, keeping careful tally +with a bit of keel upon the iron-banded door, till +the red lines that he marked there made his eyes +ache and his head swim. At last the task was finished, +and so well the squire praised him, and for +his faithfulness again was fain to speed him on his +way.</p> + +<p>"It was a woful journey to the waters of Kilgore. +Sleep weighed on Ederyn's eyelids, and haltingly +he went the weary miles, footsore and worn. But +midnight found him on the spot where one awaited +him, another wraith-like envoy of the king, and it, +too, left a touch upon his heart in token he had +kept the tryst. And when he looked, another pearl +gleamed there beside the first.</p> + +<p>"So many a day went by, and Ederyn failed not +in his homely tasks, but carried to his common +round of duties all his might, as if they were great +feats of prowess. Thus gained he liberty to keep +the tryst with every messenger the king did send.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Once he fared forth along a dangerous road +that led he knew not where, and, when he found +it crossed a loathly swamp all filled with slime and +creeping things, fain would he have fled. But, +pushing on for sake of his brave oath, although +with fainting heart, he reached the goal at last. +This time his token made him wonder much. For +when he wakened from his swoon, a shining star +lay on his heart above the pearls.</p> + +<p>"Now it fell out the squire to whom this Ederyn +was page was killed in conflict with a robber band, +and Ederyn, for his faithfulness, was taken by the +earl to fill that squire's place. Soon after that, they +left the hall, and journeyed on a visit to a distant +lord. 'Twas to the Castle of Content they came, +where was a joyous garden. And now no menial +tasks employed the new squire's time. Here was +he free to wander all the day through vistas of +the joyous garden, or loiter by the fountain in the +courtyard and watch the maidens at their tasks, having +fair speech with them among the flowers. And +one there was among them, so lily-like in face, so +gentle-voiced and fair, that Ederyn well-nigh forgot +his oath, and felt full glad when for a space +the king's call ceased to sound. And gladder was +he still, when, later on, the earl's long visit done,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +he left young Ederyn behind to serve the great lord +of the castle, for so the two friends had agreed, +since Ederyn had pleased the old lord's fancy.</p> + +<p>"Yet was he faithful to his vow, and failed not +every dawn to mount to some high place, when all +the voices of the world were still, and listen for +the sound of Merlin's horn. One morn it came:</p> + +<p>"'Ederyn! Ederyn! One waits thee far away. +By the black cave of Atropos, when the moon fulls, +keep thy tryst!'</p> + +<p>"Now 'twas a seven days' journey to that cave, +and Ederyn, thinking of the lily maid, was loath +to leave the garden. He lingered by the fountain +until nightfall, saying to himself: 'Why should +I go on longer in these foolish quests, keeping tryst +with shadows that vanish at the touch? No nearer +am I to a knight's estate than, when a stripling +page, I listened to the minstrel's tales.'</p> + +<p>"The fountain softly splashed within the garden. +From out the banquet-hall there stole the sound +of tinkling lutes, and then the lily maiden sang. +Her siren voice filled all his heart, and he forgot +his oath to duty. But presently a star reflected in +the fountain made him look up into the jewelled +sky, where shone the polar constellation. And there +he read the oath he had forgotten: 'With the compass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +needle of my soul true to the north star of +my great ambition, I will follow where it leads.'</p> + +<p>"Thrusting his fingers in his ears to silence the +beloved voice of her who sang, he madly rushed +from out the garden into the blackness of the night. +The Castle of Content clanged its great gate behind +him. He shivered as he felt the jar through all +his frame, but, never taking out his fingers, on he +ran, till scores of furlongs lay between him and +the tempting of that siren voice.</p> + +<p>"It was a strange and fearsome wood that lay +between him and the cave. All things seemed +moaning and afraid. He saw no forms, but everywhere +the shadows shuddered, and moans and +groans pursued him till nameless fears clutched at +his heart with icy chill. Then suddenly the earth +slipped way beneath his feet, and cold waves closed +above his head. He knew now he had fallen in +the pool that lies upon the far edge of the fearsome +wood,—a pool so deep and of such whirling motion +that only by the fiercest struggle may one +escape. Gladly he would have allowed the waters +to close over him, such cold pains smote his heart, +had he not seemed to hear the old minstrel's song. +It aroused him to a final effort, and he gasped between +his teeth:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"''Tis the king's call! O list!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Keep tryst or die!'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"With that, in one mighty struggle he dragged +himself to land. A bow-shot farther on he saw the +cave, and by sheer force of will crept toward it. +What happened then he knew not till the moon +rose full and high above him. A form swathed all +in black bowed over him.</p> + +<p>"'Ederyn,' she sighed. 'Here is thy token that +the king may know that thou hast met me face to +face.'</p> + +<p>"He thought it was a diamond at first, that +sparkled there beside the star, but when he looked +again, lo, nothing but a tear.</p> + +<p>"Then went he back unto the joyous garden +by slow degrees, for he was now sore spent. And +after that the summons came full often. Whenever +all the world seemed loveliest and life most +sweet, then was the call most sure to come. But +never once he faltered. Never was he faithless to +the king's behest. Up weary mountain steps he +toiled to find the sombre face of Disappointment +there in waiting, and Suffering and Pain were often +at his journey's end, and once a sore Defeat. But +bravely as the months went by he learned to smile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +into their eyes, no matter which one handed out +to him the pledge of Duty well performed.</p> + +<p>"One day, when he no longer was a beardless +youth, but grown to pleasing stature and of great +brawn, he heard the hoped-for call of which he +long had dreamed: 'Ederyn! Ederyn! The king +himself awaits thee. Midsummer morn at lark-song, +keep tryst beside the palace gate.'</p> + +<p>"As travellers on the desert, spent and worn, +see far across the sand the palm-tree's green that +marks life-giving wells, so Ederyn hailed this summons +to the king. The soul-consuming thirst that +long had urged him on grew fiercer as the well of +consummation came in sight. Hope shod his feet +with wings, as thus with every nerve a-strain he +pushed toward the final tryst. So fearful was he +some mishap might snatch the cup away ere it had +touched his thirsty lips, that three full days before +the time he reached the Vale of Avalon, and sat +him down outside the entrance to the palace.</p> + +<p>"Now there came prowling through the wood +that edged the fair domain the gnarled dwarfs that +do the will of Shudderwain. And Shudderwain, +of all the giants thereabouts, most cruel was and to +be feared. Knowing full well what pleasure it +would give the bloody monster, these dwarfs laid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +evil hands on Ederyn. Sleeping they found him, +and bound him with hard leathern thongs, and then +with gibes and impish laughter dragged him into +a dungeon past the help of man.</p> + +<p>"Two days and nights he lay there, raging at +fate and at his helplessness, till he was well-nigh +mad, bethinking him of all his baffled hopes. And +like a madman gnawed he on the leathern thongs +till he was free, and beat his hands against the +stubborn rock that would not yield, and threw himself +against the walls that held him in.</p> + +<p>"The dwarfs from time to time peered through +the slatted window overhead and mocked him, +pointing with their crooked thumbs.</p> + +<p>"'Ha! ha! Thou'lt keep no tryst,' they chattered. +'But if thou'lt swear upon thy oath to go +back to the joyous garden, and hark no more for +Merlin's call, we'll let thee loose from out this +Dungeon of thy Disappointment.'</p> + +<p>"Then was Ederyn tempted, for the dungeon +was foul indeed, and his heart cried out to go back +to the lily maiden. But once more in his ears he +thrust his fingers and cried:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'To the king's call alone I'll list!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Oh, heart and hand of mine, keep tryst—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Keep tryst or die!'</span><br /></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>"On the third night, with the quiet of despair +he threw him prone upon the dungeon floor and +held his peace, no longer gnawing on his thongs +or beating on the rock. A single moonbeam straggled +through the slatted window, and by its light +he saw a spider spinning out a web. Then, looking +dully around, he saw the dungeon was hung +thick with other webs, foul with the dust of years. +Great festoons of the cobweb film shrouded his +prison walls. As up and down the hairy creature +swung itself upon its thread, the hopeless eyes of +Ederyn followed it.</p> + +<p>"All in a twinkling he saw how he might profit +by the spider's teaching, and clapped his hand across +his mouth to keep from shouting out his joy, so +that the dwarfs could hear. Now once more like +a madman rushing at the walls, he tore down all +the dusty webs, and twisted them together in long +strands. These strands he braided in thick ropes +and tied them, knotting them and twisting and +doubling once again. All the while he kept bewailing +the stupid way in which he wasted time. +'Three days ago I might have quit this den,' he +sighed, 'had I but used the means that lay at hand. +Full well I knew that heaven always finds a way +to help the man who helps himself. No creature<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +lives too mean to be of service, and even dungeon +walls must harbour help for him who boldly grasps +the first thing that he sees and makes it serve him.'</p> + +<p>"So fast and furiously he worked that, long before +the moonbeam faded, his cobweb rope was strong +enough to bear his weight, and long enough to +reach twice over to the slatted window overhead. +By many trials he at last succeeded in throwing it +around a spike that barred the window, and, climbing +up, he forced the slats apart and clambered +through. Then tying the rope's end to the window, +he slid down all the dizzy cliffside in which the +dwarfs had dug the dungeon, and dropped into the +stream that ran below.</p> + +<p>"Lo, when he looked around him it was dawn. +Midsummer morn it was, and, plunging through the +wood, he heard the lark's song rise, and reached +the palace gate just as it opened to the blare of +trumpets for the king's train to ride forth. When +Ederyn saw the royal cavalcade, he shrunk back +into the wayside bushes, so ill-befitting did it seem +that he should come before the king in tattered +garments, with blood upon his hands where the +sharp rocks had cut, and with foul dungeon stains.</p> + +<p>"But that the king might know he'd ever proven +faithful, he sank upon his knees and bared his breast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +at his approach. There all the pledges glistened in +the sunlight, in rainbow hues. There Pain had +dropped her heart's blood in a glittering ruby, and +Honour set her seal upon him in a golden star. +A diamond gleamed where Sorrow's tear had fallen, +and amethysts glowed now with purple splendour +to mark his patient meeting with Defeat. But +mostly were the pledges little pearls for little duties +faithfully performed; and there they shone, and, +as the people gazed, they saw the jewels take the +shape of letters, so that the king read out before +them all, '<i>Semper fidelis</i>.'</p> + +<p>"Then drew the king his royal sword and lightly +smote on Ederyn's shoulder, and cried: 'Arise, Sir +Knight, Sir Ederyn the Trusty. Since I may trust +thee to the utmost in little things as well as great, +since thou of all men art most worthy, henceforth +by thy king's heart thou shalt ride, ever to be his +faithful guard and comrade.'</p> + +<p>"So there before them all he did him honour, +and ordered that a prancing steed be brought and +a good sword buckled on his side.</p> + +<p>"Thus Ederyn won his sovereign's favour. +Soon, by his sovereign's grace permitted, he went +back to the joyous garden to woo the lily maiden. +When he had won his bride and borne her to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +palace, then was his great reward complete for all +his years of fealty to his vow. Then out into the +world he went to guard his king. Henceforth +blazoned on his shield and helmet he bore the crest—a +heart with hand that grasped a spear, and, +underneath these words:</p> + +<p>"<i>'I keep the tryst!'</i>"</p> + +<p>Slipping the white ribbon back between the pages +to mark the place, Miss Chilton laid the little green +and gold volume on the table, and smiled at the +circle of attentive faces.</p> + +<p>"I am sure you understand why I have read this +story," she said. "It is the motto of the school. +Tradition has it that Sir Ederyn was an ancient +member of Madam Chartley's family. At any rate, +it has borne his crest for many, many generations, +and there could be no better motto for a school. +The world expects us to do certain things. We +must keep tryst with these expectations. You all +know what happened yesterday. Madam looks for +a certain course of conduct from her girls. She +does not make rules. She only expects what the +inborn instinct of a true lady would prompt you +to do or to be. I am sure that after this explanation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +none of you will fail to keep tryst with her +expectations."</p> + +<p>That was the only public reference to Maud's +escapade. She left the room with a very red face +when the class was dismissed. The little story +put her so plainly in the wrong before the other +girls that it made her cross and uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>Every member of the class had five marks to +her credit, and Betty was the lucky one whose almost +literal reproduction of the story gave her ten. +She copied it all down in her white record afterward, +adding a verse that she had once seen in +an autograph album:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Life is a rosary</span><br /> +Strung with the beads of little deeds,<br /> +Done humbly, Lord, as unto thee."<br /> +</div> + +<p>She repeated the verse aloud to Lloyd. "I'd +like to make that kind of a rosary. I'd like to act +out that story. It just strikes my fancy. It would +be such a satisfaction to lay aside a token each +night, as Ederyn did, that I had kept tryst with +duty,—had perfect lessons, or lived through a +day just as nearly right as I possibly could."</p> + +<p>She went on writing after she had made the +remark, but Lloyd, pleased by the thought, sat star<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>ing +at the lamp. It was nearly bedtime, and presently, +putting aside her book, she rose and crossed +over to the bureau. In a sandalwood box in the +top drawer was a broken fan-chain of white beads—tiny +Roman pearls that she had bought in a +shop in the Via Crucia. She had intended to string +them sometime, mixing with them here and there +some curious blue beads she had seen made at a +glass-blower's in Venice—large blue ones with tiny +roses on the sides.</p> + +<p>Betty, busy with her diary, did not notice how +long Lloyd stood with her back toward her, pouring +the little Roman pearls from one hand to the +other.</p> + +<p>"It seems almost babyish," Lloyd was saying to +herself. "But othah girls keep memory-books and +such things, and this is such a pretty idea. No +one need know. Yes, I'll begin the rosary this very +night, for every lesson was perfect to-day, and I +truly tried my best in everything."</p> + +<p>Hesitating an instant longer, she rummaged +through the drawer for a piece of fine white silk +cord which she remembered having placed there. +When she found it, she knotted one end securely, +and then slowly slipped one little pearl bead down +against the knot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There!" she thought, with a hasty glance over +her shoulder at Betty, as she dropped the string back +into its box. "There's one token that I've kept +tryst, even if I nevah earn any moah. I'm going +to have that string half-full by vacation."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>A MEMORY-BOOK AND A SOUVENIR SPOON</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> string of white beads grew steadily, but +work went hand in hand with play at Warwick +Hall, as Kitty's memory-book testified. She brought +it out to liven the recreation hour one rainy afternoon, +late in the term, when they were house-bound +by the weather. Its covers, labelled "Gala Days +and Bonfire Nights," were bulging with souvenirs +of many memorable occasions. She sat on the +floor with it spread open on her lap. Betty was +on one side and Lloyd on the other, while Gay +leaned against her back and looked over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>Kitty opened her treasure-house of mementos +with a giggle, for on the first page was a water-colour +sketch of Gay as she had appeared on the +welcoming night. She had painted her with two +enormous feet protruding from her flowing skirts, +one cased in a party slipper with an exaggerated +French heel, the other in a down-trodden bedroom +slipper painted a brilliant crimson.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean thing!" cried Gay, laughing over +the ridiculous caricature of herself.</p> + +<p>"That isn't a circumstance to some of them," +remarked Allison, who was virtuously spending +her recreation hour in sewing buttons on her gloves +and mending a rip in the lining of her coat-sleeve. +"Wait till you come to the programme of the +recital given by the students of voice, violin, and +piano. The pictures she made all around the margin +of it are some of the best she has done. The +sketch of Susie Tyndall, tearing her hair and shrieking +out the 'Polish Boy,' is simply killing."</p> + +<p>"Kitty Walton," exclaimed Gay, as she bent over +the grotesquely decorated programme, "where do +you keep this book o' nights? I'll surely have to +steal it. Think what it will be worth to us when +we are old ladies. There's one thing certain, you +could never pose as a saintly old grandmother with +such a record for mischief as this to bear witness +against you."</p> + +<p>Kitty looked up with a startled expression. +"You know, it never occurred to me before that +I'd ever look at this book through spectacles. I +wonder if I'll find it as amusing then, when I'm +dignified and rheumatic, as I do now."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure <i>that</i> will be pleasant to recall," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +Betty, pointing to a withered rose pinned to the +next page. "That will properly impress your +grandchildren."</p> + +<p>Underneath the rose was written the date of a +private reception granted the Warwick Hall girls +at the White House.</p> + +<p>"I had such a lovely time that afternoon," sighed +Betty. "It was so much nicer to go as we did, +for a friendly little visit under Madam's wing, than +to have pushed by in a big public mob. Wasn't +Cora Basket funny? She was so overawed by the +honour that she fairly turned purple. Her roommate +vows that, when she wrote home, she began, +'Preserve this letter! The hand that is now writing +it has been shaken by the President of the +United States of America!'"</p> + +<p>"Cordie Brown was funnier than Cora," said +Allison. "She wanted to impress people with the +idea that the affair was nothing to her. That it +rather bored her, in fact. She went around with +her nose in the air, trying to appear so superior +and indifferent, as if crowned heads and their ilk +made her tired."</p> + +<p>"What's this?" demanded Lloyd, as they turned +the next leaf, through which a single long black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +hair had been drawn. Underneath was the gruesome +legend, "Dead men tell no tales."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's only a 'hair from the tail of the dog +of the child of the wife of the wild man of Borneo,'" +laughed Kitty, attempting to turn the page; +but Lloyd, laying both palms across it, held it fast.</p> + +<p>"You know it's not, you naughty thing. You've +been up to some prank."</p> + +<p>"It a p. j. A private joke," explained Kitty, +bending over the book and laughing till her forehead +touched her knees. "I'm dying to tell you, +for it's the funniest thing in the collection. It happened +at the Hallowe'en party, and I promised not +to tell."</p> + +<p>"Promised whom?" demanded Betty.</p> + +<p>"Can't tell that, either," was all that Kitty would +say. She flipped over the next leaf. A gilded wishbone +was fastened to the page by the bit of red +ribbon run through it.</p> + +<p>"That's 'In Memoriam' of the grand spread +at the Thanksgiving Day feast. And this button +pasted on just below it, popped off the glove of +Mademoiselle La Tosto the afternoon she came to +the Studio Tea and Art reception. You know how +the girls buzzed around her like a swarm of bees, +begging for her autograph. I'd rather have this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +button than a dozen autographs, for it dropped off +her glove as she clapped her hands in that vivacious +Frenchy way of hers, when she saw my caricature +of Paderewski that the girls stuck up on the wall. +Understand, young ladies, she was <i>applauding</i> it. +I walked on air all afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Why undah the sun have you saved this tea +leaf?" asked Lloyd, pointing to one pasted carefully +in the corner of the next page.</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember the day that we went down +to Mammy Easter's cabin, and her old black grandmother +was there, and told our fortunes? She +was a regular old hag, Gay. I wish you could have +seen her,—teeth all gone; skin puckered as a dried +apple; she looked more monkey than human. But +she's a fine fortune-teller. I made a few hieroglyphics +to recall what she said. This mark is +supposed to be a coach and four. She said that +Allison was to wed wid de quality and ride in a +car'age, but sorrow would be her po'shun if she +walked proud. She said that I'm bawn to trouble +as de spah'ks fly upwa'd, case I won't hah'k to +counsel, and that I mustn't marry the first man that +axes me, and I mustn't marry the second man that +axes me, but the third man that axes me, him I +can safely marry. This tea leaf stands for the third<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +man. I'm to have three sons and one daughter, +and my luck will come to me through running water +when the weather-vane points west."</p> + +<p>Kitty pointed to several pencil scratches beside +the tea leaf, intended to signify a brook and a +weather-vane on a steeple.</p> + +<p>"What did she say about Betty?" asked Gay.</p> + +<p>Kitty studied the next line of hieroglyphics a +moment. "Oh, I see now. I intended this for +a ship. She said there was a veil done hanging +ovah her future, so she couldn't rightly tell, but +she could see ships coming and going and crowds +of people, and she could see that her fortune was +mixed up with a great many other persons. She +said that the teacup held gold for her, and the signs +all 'pinted friendly.'"</p> + +<p>"And Lloyd?" queried Gay, trying to decipher +the next line of pencil marks. "Surely that's not +a cat I see."</p> + +<p>"A cat, a teapot, and a ball of knitting," laughed +Kitty. "I supposed that Lloyd's fortune would +be something thrilling, but according to the old +darky, it's to be the tamest of all. She said, 'I see +a rising sun, and a row of lovahs, but I don't see +you a-taking any of 'em, honey. Yo' ways am +ways of pleasantness and all yo' paths am peace,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +but I'se powahful skeered dat you'se gwine to be +an ole maid. I sholy is.'"</p> + +<p>"Is that so, Lloyd?" asked Gay, leaning over +Kitty's shoulder to laugh at the Little Colonel's +teased expression. Kitty answered for her.</p> + +<p>"Not if we can help it. We want her for a +cousin, and we think that she ought to marry Malcolm +just for the sake of being able to claim us +as her dear relations. Look how she's blushing, +girls."</p> + +<p>"I'm not!" was the indignant answer. "You're +just trying to make me get red, because you know +I do it so easily."</p> + +<p>She turned the page hastily and began to talk +about its contents to change the subject. There +were scraps of ribbon, as they went farther on, +a burnt match, a peacock feather, a tiny block of +wood with a hole shot through it, a strand of embroidery +silk, a faded pansy,—a hundred bits of +worthless rubbish which an unknowing hand would +have swept into the waste-basket; but to Kitty each +one was a key to unlock some happy memory of +her swiftly passing school-days. As the four heads, +brown and golden, black and auburn, bent over the +book, the rain beat against the windows in torrents.</p> + +<p>With needle in air, Allison sat a moment watch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>ing +the water stream down the pane. "This makes +me think of that afternoon in old Lloydsboro Seminary," +she said, musingly, "when Ida Shane read +the 'Fortunes of Daisy Dale' aloud to us. I wonder +what has become of Ida. She was living in +a little country town up in the mountains the last +time I heard of her, taking in sewing and doing her +own work."</p> + +<p>"She's the girl who caused so much excitement +at the Seminary," Betty explained to Gay. "The +one who got our Shadow Club into disgrace. She +tried to elope one night, but the teachers found +it out and sent her home. It didn't do any good, +for she ran away with Ned Bannon the next summer, +and they were married by a justice of the +peace. I don't see how Ida could do it when she'd +always been so romantic, and planned to have her +wedding just like Daisy Dale's, in cherry blossom +time, and in the little stone church at Lloydsboro, +with the vines over the belfry. It's so quaint and +English looking, just like the one that Daisy was +married in. Instead of being all in white, she was +married in the dress she happened to have on when +she ran away,—just an old black walking skirt +and plaid shirt-waist. No veil, no trail, and no +orange-blossoms, and she had counted on having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +all three. It was so prosy and commonplace after +the grand things she had planned."</p> + +<p>"She's had it prosy enough ever since, too," +remarked Allison. "Ned drinks so hard that he +can't keep a position. She didn't reform him one +single bit, and I reckon she understands now why +her aunt objected so strongly to her marrying him. +Poor Ida, to think of her having to take in sewing +to keep her from actual starvation! It's awful!"</p> + +<p>"Poah Ida!" echoed Lloyd. "I don't see how +she does it. When she was in the Seminary, she +couldn't do anything with her needle but embroidah. +I used to have Mom Beck do her mending and +darning when she did mine."</p> + +<p>"Thank fortune <i>my</i> mending is done!" exclaimed +Allison, dropping her thimble into her +work-bag, and throwing her coat across a chair. +"It's almost time for the bell. I must take Juliet +Lynn the papers I promised her."</p> + +<p>Lloyd and Betty, looking at the clock, scrambled +to their feet, and a moment after only Gay and +Kitty were left on the rug with the memory-book +open between them.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that Lloyd really cares for your +cousin?" asked Gay.</p> + +<p>"No," was the emphatic answer. "You can make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +her blush that way about anybody, and I love to +tease her. When she first came back from Arizona, +I used to think she liked Phil Tremont, a boy she +met out there, and then I thought maybe it was +Joyce's brother Jack. She talked so much about the +duck hunts they had together, and what a splendid +fellow he was, and how much her father admired +him. But the Princess is so particular that +I believe the old darky told her fortune truly. If +she's so particular at fifteen, 'I'se powahful skeered +she's gwine to be an old maid. I sholy is.' For +what will she be at twice fifteen?"</p> + +<p>Gay laughed at the imitation of the old coloured +woman, then asked: "But doesn't your cousin +come up to her standard? According to Maud +Minor he is as handsome as a Greek god, as accomplished +as all the Muses put together, and as entertaining +as a four-ring circus."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Malcolm's all right," answered Kitty. +"We're awfully fond of him, but we're not so crazy +about him as to think all that. I have a picture of +him somewhere in my box of photographs, if you'd +like to see it."</p> + +<p>Climbing on a chair to reach the box on the top +of the wardrobe, she took it down and began rummaging +through it. In a moment she tossed a photograph<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +to Gay, who still sat on the floor, Turk +fashion.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 280px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="280" height="500" alt=""STUDYING THE FACE OF THE HANDSOME YOUNG FELLOW WITH INTEREST"" title=""STUDYING THE FACE OF THE HANDSOME YOUNG FELLOW WITH INTEREST"" /> +<span class="caption">"STUDYING THE FACE OF THE HANDSOME YOUNG FELLOW WITH INTEREST"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Here is one he had taken years ago when he +and Keith used to play they were two little Knights +of Kentucky, and went around trying to set the +wrongs of the world to rights."</p> + +<p>While Gay was still exclaiming over it, she threw +down another. "Here's the one I was looking for. +It was taken this summer at Narragansett Pier on +his polo pony."</p> + +<p>Gay seized it, studying the face of the handsome +young fellow with interest. "Why, he's almost +grown!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's nearly eighteen, and he is even better +looking than that picture. And here's Keith, the +one I'm so fond of. We always have so much fun +when they come out to grandmother's for the holidays."</p> + +<p>The box slipped and the entire contents showered +over the floor. Gay helped her to put them +back into the box, glancing at each one as she +did so. One in a cadet uniform attracted her attention.</p> + +<p>"Who's this? Now <i>he's</i> the one I'd like to +know. I suppose it's because I've lived at an army<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +post always that I adore anything military. <i>He</i> +looks interesting."</p> + +<p>Kitty leaned over to look. "Oh, that's my +brother Ranald. He's away at military school. +Won't he be teased when I tell him what you said? +He's dreadfully bashful with girls, though you'd +think he oughtn't to be. He was under fire ever +so many times with papa in the Philippines when +he was a little chap. You know he was the youngest +captain in the army, at one time, and was on +General Grant's staff when he was still in short +trousers."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, I know," cried Gay, enthusiastically. +"I heard some officers talking about it +one night at dinner just after it happened. Papa +toasted 'The Little Captain' in such a pretty speech +that the officers who had fought with your father +cheered. But I never dreamed then that I'd ever +know his sister, or be sitting here holding his picture, +talking about him. I'm going to take possession +of this," she added, when all the other photographs +were back in the box.</p> + +<p>"You don't care, do you? I'd like it to add to +my collection of heroes. I'll put it in a frame made +of brass buttons and crossed guns and all sorts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +of ornaments that the officers have given me off +of their uniforms."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't care," answered Kitty. "Allison +has one like it, and I can get another any time +by writing home for it. I wish you would take +it, for that would give me such a fine thing to tease +him about. I could worry him nearly distracted."</p> + +<p>"I don't care how much you tease him so long +as I may keep the picture," laughed Gay. "I'm +a thousand times obliged to you."</p> + +<p>As she sat looking at it, she exclaimed, suddenly: +"Kitty Walton, you're an awfully lucky girl to +have such nice boys in your family. I wish I knew +them. I haven't a brother or even a forty-second +cousin."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can know them if you'll come home +with me to spend the Christmas vacation. Ranald +always brings a boy home with him for the holidays, +and mother said Allison and I might bring +a friend. I'm sure she'd rather have you than anybody +else, she knows your father and mother so +well."</p> + +<p>The amber lights in Gay's brown eyes deepened. +"Oh, I'd <i>love</i> to!" she cried. "I'd dearly love +to! It's too far to go away back to San Antonio +for such a short time, and I hated to think of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +holidays, knowing I'd have to stay here at the Hall, +with all you girls gone. Are you sure your mother +won't object?"</p> + +<p>"You wait and see," advised Kitty. "You don't +know mammy! You'll not have any doubt of your +welcome when her letter comes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it would be too lovely for anything!" exclaimed +Gay, listening with a far-away look in her +eyes, as Kitty began outlining plans for the coming +holidays. Presently, in sheer joy at the prospect, +they pulled each other up from the floor, and, +springing on to the bed, danced a Highland fling +in the middle of it, till a slat fell out with a terrifying +crash.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>With the coming of December the holiday gaieties +began. A spirit of festivity lurked in the very +air. A mock Christmas tree was one of the yearly +features of the school, when each pupil's pet fad +or peculiarity was suggested by appropriate gifts. +Preparations for the tree began early in the month, +and whispered consultations were carried on in +every corner, with much giggling and profound +assurances of secrecy.</p> + +<p>The practising of Christmas carols went on in +the music-rooms, and snatches of them floated down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +the halls and through the building, till the blithe +young hearts were filled to overflowing with the +cheer and good-will of the sweet old melodies. +Now the usual Monday sightseeing gave way to +shopping, and every moment that could be snatched +from school work was given to crochet-needles and +embroidery-hoops, to the finishing of an endless +variety of gifts, and the wrapping of same in mysterious +packages.</p> + +<p>One Monday Betty did not join the others in +their weekly shopping expedition. Her few purchases +had been made, and she wanted the day to +work on unfinished gifts. She was making most +of them with her needle. She was glad afterward +that she had decided to stay when a slow winter +rain began to fall. It melted the light snow-fall +which whitened the ground into a disagreeable +compound of slush and mud.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when Kitty and Allison burst +into the room, their arms full of bundles, and began +displaying their purchases. Lloyd followed more +slowly, and, dropping her packages on the floor +by the radiator, stood trying to warm her fingers +through her wet gloves. Presently, in the midst +of the exhibition, with her hat still on, she flung +herself across her bed, piled up as it was with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +strings and crumpled wrapping-paper. "Excuse +me if I mash your bargains, Kitty," she said, weakly, +closing her eyes. "But I'm as limp as a rag! So +ti'ahed—I feel as if I were falling to pieces. We +tramped around in the wet so long, and then inside +the stores there were such crowds that we were +pushed and jammed and stepped on everywhere we +turned. It seemed to me we waited hours for our +change. Then the car we came out on was so ovah-heated +that we almost stifled. I'm suah I caught +cold when the icy wind struck us aftah we left +the station."</p> + +<p>She shivered as she spoke. Betty sprang up and +began tugging at her wet wraps.</p> + +<p>"Don't lie there that way," she begged. "Let +me help you get into some dry clothes, and ask the +housekeeper for a glass of hot milk."</p> + +<p>At first Lloyd protested that she was too tired +to move. Betty could be as persistent as a mosquito +at times. She insisted until Lloyd finally allowed +her to have her way, and got up wearily to put +on the dry skirts and stockings which she brought +to her. A hot dinner made her feel somewhat better, +but her face was flushed when they went up-stairs +for the study hour. Betty saw her wipe her +eyes as she took out her Latin grammar, and in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>stantly +forgave the petulant way in which Lloyd +had answered her several times during the evening.</p> + +<p>"Don't try to study, Lloyd," she urged. "I +know you don't feel well."</p> + +<p>"No," acknowledged the Little Colonel, "every +bone in my body aches, and my head is simply splitting."</p> + +<p>"Let me run down to the sanitarium and ask +Miss Gilmer to come up and see if she can't do +something for you," began Betty, but Lloyd interrupted +her, stamping her foot with a touch of her +old childish imperiousness.</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't go! I'm not sick! I've just caught +a plain cold."</p> + +<p>"But people don't catch just plain colds nowadays," +persisted Betty. "They always catch microbes +at the same time, that are apt to turn into +la grippe and pneumonia and all sorts of dreadful +things. 'A stitch in time saves nine,' you know," +she added, wisely, quoting from the motto embroidered +on her darning-bag, which happened to be +hanging on a chair-post in the corner. "'An ounce +of prevention is worth a pound of cure' every +time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for mercy's sake, Betty," cried Lloyd, impatiently, +"let me alone and don't be so preachy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +I'm not going to repoa't a little thing like a headache +and a soah throat to the nurse. She'd put +me to bed and keep me there for a week. I'd get +behind with my lessons, and lose all the holiday fun. +Like as not mothah and Papa Jack would come +straight aftah me, and take me home befoah we'd +had the mock Christmas tree or any of the things +I've been looking forward to so long."</p> + +<p>Betty picked up her algebra again without an +audible reply, but inwardly she was saying: "I +know she is sick, or she wouldn't be so cross."</p> + +<p>The next day found Lloyd with such high fever +that she was installed at once in the sanitarium. +"It is la grippe that she has," the nurse told Betty. +"It is the real thing, and not what people always +claim to have with an ordinary cold. The worst +will probably be over in a few days, but it will leave +her so exhausted and so susceptible to other things +that I shall keep her with me for a week at least."</p> + +<p>Lloyd rebelled at first, but she had to submit as +her fever mounted higher, and the world grew, to +her blurred fancy, one great, throbbing ache. She +was glad to give herself up to Miss Gilmer's soothing +touches. Mrs. Sherman did not come, for a +letter from the school physician assured her that +Lloyd was receiving every care and attention that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +she could have had at home, and the case was quite +a simple one.</p> + +<p>Miss Gilmer, the nurse, was a big motherly +woman, who seemed to radiate comfort and cheer, +as a stove does heat. After the first few days, Lloyd +would have enjoyed the time spent with her in +the cheerful room assigned her had she not been +haunted by the thought that she was falling behind +her classes.</p> + +<p>"It's a pretty good sawt of a world, aftah all," +she said one day, as she sat propped up among the +pillows, enjoying a dainty mid-afternoon lunch +Madam Chartley had personally prepared and sent +in hot from the chafing-dish. Bouillon in the thinnest +of fragile china, and a toasted scone which +recalled delightfully the little English inn she had +visited near Kenilworth ruins. By some oversight, +no spoon had been sent in on the tray, and Miss +Gilmer supplied the deficiency by bringing one of +her own from a little cabinet in the next room.</p> + +<p>"It has a history," Miss Gilmer said, and Lloyd +looked at it with interest before dipping it into the +cup.</p> + +<p>"Why, the handle is a May-pole!" she exclaimed, +with pleasure. "And the date down among +the garlands is the queen's birthday, isn't it? I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +remembah we were up in the Burns country that +day, when we saw the school-children celebrating +it."</p> + +<p>"To think of an American girl remembering that +date!" cried Miss Gilmer, in a pleased tone. "It +is a great day on my calendar, for it was then that +I met Madam Chartley, for the first time, on the +queen's birthday. She has been my good angel +ever since. It was she who sent me that May-pole +spoon, as a souvenir of that meeting."</p> + +<p>"Oh, would you tell me about it?" asked Lloyd. +"It sounds so interesting."</p> + +<p>Taking up some needlework from a basket on +the table, Miss Gilmer leaned back as if to begin +a long story.</p> + +<p>"There isn't so much to tell, after all," she said, +pausing to thread her needle. "It was long ago, +when Madam Chartley was Alicia Raeburn, and I +was a bashful little English schoolgirl at St. Agnes +Hall. Alicia had come from America to visit her +uncle, who was proctor of the cathedral. His +grounds joined the school premises on the south, +and I often used to peep through the hedge and +watch her strolling around the garden. She was +older than I, and the difference in our ages seemed +greater then than now, for I was still wearing short<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +frocks, and she had just put on long ones. I had +heard that she was to be presented at court next +season. That, and the fact that she was an American, +and very beautiful, and that she looked lonely +strolling around the old proctor's garden by herself, +threw a glamour of romance about her.</p> + +<p>"I would have given a fortune to have made her +acquaintance, and I spent hours down by the brook +dreaming innocent little day-dreams in which I pictured +such meetings. Suddenly heliotrope became +my favourite flower instead of roses, because she +so often wore a bunch of it tucked in the belt of +her gray dress. Indeed, because she so often wore +it, I grew to regard it as sacred to her alone, and +felt that no one else had a right to wear it. Fortunately, +at that season of the year it grew only +in the proctor's conservatory, so that the schoolgirls +could not obtain it. I would have inwardly resented +it, if any one of them had taken such a liberty as +to wear her flower. She seemed to me the most +beautiful and perfect creature I had ever seen, and +I worshipped her from afar, and imitated her in +every way possible. I don't suppose you can understand +such an infatuation."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do undahstand," interrupted Lloyd, +eagerly. She was thinking of Ida Shane, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +way she had fallen under the spell of her charming +personality. Even yet the odour of violets brought +back the same little thrill it had awakened when +violets seemed made for Ida's exclusive wearing. +Miss Gilmer's feeling for the beautiful Alicia Raeburn +was no deeper than hers had been for Ida. +She could readily understand about the heliotrope.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," Miss Gilmer went on, "you can +imagine my state of mind when at last I actually +met her. It was on the queen's birthday. At our +school, instead of having the May-pole dance on +May-day, we waited until the queen's birthday, and +on that occasion Alicia was one of the invited +guests. It was quite by accident she spoke to me. +She dropped her handkerchief, and I sprang to pick +it up. But she must have seen the adoration in my +poor little embarrassed face, for I went quite red +I am sure. I could fairly feel the hot blood surge +over me. She said something pleasant to cover my +confusion, and then swept her skirts aside for me +to share her seat. She wanted to ask some questions +about the customs of the school, she said.</p> + +<p>"That was the beginning of our acquaintance. +Next day she waved her handkerchief over the +hedge to me, and the next called me over for a little +chat. She was lonely in the great garden. After<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +awhile I plucked up courage to tell her how I had +watched her through the hedge, and dreamed about +meeting her. I could not put it into words, but +she could readily see that the good Victoria and +the queen of the May were not the sovereigns who +claimed my dearest allegiance. It was the 'Queen +Rose of the rosebud garden of girls,' the beautiful +Alicia Raeburn.</p> + +<p>"She went away that summer, but we had grown +to be such friends that she promised to write to +me once a year, in order that I might not lose her +entirely out of my life. She knew what a lonely +little orphan I was, and she never denied me the +joy of that yearly letter. They were full of her +travels and the interesting experiences of her life, +for she married a young English officer and went +to India.</p> + +<p>"They came back to England once. I saw her +then. It was at a great ball given for the Prince +of Wales when he honoured the little cathedral town +with a visit. She could hardly believe that I was +the little schoolgirl who had eyed her so adoringly +through the hedge. I had grown so large. But +she found from others what a lonely life I had, +and, knowing how much her friendship meant, she +still gave me the pleasure of that yearly letter, writ<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>ten +on the queen's birthday. That she should remember +through all her busy years shows one of +the finest traits of her character.</p> + +<p>"Once she was too ill to write, but the message +came just the same. She sent this spoon with the +May-pole handle, and on her card was scrawled the +one line, 'I keep the tryst.' She had told me the +story of their family crest. You don't know how +many times in the next few years the sight of that +card and the souvenir spoon helped me. Her fidelity +to a promise made me rely on her and her friendship +when all others failed me. My guardian died and +left my property in such shape that I found I would +have to support myself, and I began to take training +for a professional nurse. When she heard of it, +she wrote and told me that she, too, had been +obliged by her husband's death to earn her own +living, and that she had established this school in +her great-grandmother's old mansion. She offered +me the position of professional nurse here. I came +on the next steamer, and have been here ever +since.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how many times I've thought +how different my life would have been if she had +failed in that one little matter of sending a yearly +letter. No doubt it was a bore to her oftentimes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +but it was the line that kept us in touch and finally +drew me to this happy anchorage. Alicia Chartley +is a great woman, my dear. She has left her imprint +on every girl who has passed through this +school, and there'll be a long line of them to rise +up and call her blessed. Not so much for the fine +ladies she has made of them with her high-bred +ways and ideals, but for the example she has set +them always in that one thing. No matter in how +small a duty, she has never once failed to keep the +tryst."</p> + +<p>Lloyd would have liked to ask some questions +about Madam's girlhood, but some one called Miss +Gilmer into the office just then, so, taking the tray +with its empty cup and plate, she passed out. Lloyd +thumped her pillows and lay looking out of the +window at the sparrows on the balcony railing. +All the ache was gone, and, with a delightful sense +of drowsiness and of well-being, she began slipping +into a little doze. Even illness had its bright side, +she thought, languidly. She liked Miss Gilmer's +reminiscences. They opened into a world so delightfully +English. When she came back she would +ask for more stories. Down from the distant music-room +stole the faint echo of one of the carols. She +opened her eyes to listen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"God rest you, merry Christians,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Let nothing you dismay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For Christ our Lord and Saviour</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Was born on Christmas Day."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Lloyd liked that carol. "'Let nothing you dismay,'" +she repeated, softly. "No, it doesn't really +make any difference what happens," she thought, +closing her eyes again and curling up like a sleepy +kitten. "It will all come right in the end, as it did +with Miss Gilmer. I'll not worry about missing +so many lessons and so many pearls on my rosary. +I'll just be thankful for Christmas and all it brings."</p> + +<p>Again through her drowsy senses echoed the +refrain, and she dropped to sleep, repeating, slowly, +"'Let—nothing—you—dismay!'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>CHRISTMAS CAROLS</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">This</span> is the worst time of all the yeah to be +sick," fretted the Little Colonel, pausing in her restless +journey around the room. She had been pacing +from window to fireplace in the nurse's office, and +from fireplace to window again, watching the clock +and the slowly westering sun, as if watching would +hasten the day to its close.</p> + +<p>Miss Gilmer, who was placidly knitting, changed +needles without looking up. "That is what people +always say. I've never yet found one whose calendar +had a time when illness would be convenient."</p> + +<p>"But now, just befoah the holidays, a thousand +things are waiting to be done. I'm behind a whole +week with my studies, and my Christmas presents +that I'm going to make are scarcely begun. You +haven't even let me look at the material. I feel +like a caged lion, and I'd like to roah and claw and +ramp around till I'd smashed my bah's."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll have your liberty soon," laughed Miss +Gilmer. "I think it will be safe to let you go down +to the dining-room this evening, and I'll give you +your honourable discharge in the morning. But, +if I were in your place, I would make no attempt +to catch up with the classes this term. I would +lock the unfinished presents away in a drawer, and +not give any this Christmas. You ought to spend +the holidays as quietly as possible, doing nothing +but rest."</p> + +<p>Lloyd turned toward her with an exclamation of +dismay.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Gilmer! That's impossible! We've +planned for a gayer Christmas vacation than we've +evah had befoah. Every day will be full to the +brim. And I <i>must</i> make up the recitations I have +missed. I've had such good repoah'ts all term that +I can't beah to spoil everything right at the end. +When I was in bed, feeling so bad, I made up my +mind I wouldn't worry about them, but now I feel +as good as new, only a little weak, and one always +feels weak aftah fevah. It's to be expected. You +know I wasn't dangerously ill."</p> + +<p>"No," admitted Miss Gilmer, "but your little +illness has left you with less strength than you think +you have. You are like an ice-pond that is just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +beginning to freeze over. A very light weight will +break it through at that stage, but if there is no +strain until it has frozen properly, it can bear the +weight of the most heavily loaded wagons."</p> + +<p>Lloyd slipped into a chair and stared dismally +at the fire.</p> + +<p>"But I am strongah than you think, Miss Gilmer. +Except one time when I had the measles, I'd never +been sick in my life till last week. I don't believe +it's good for people to coddle themselves and worry +all the time for feah they are going to be ill."</p> + +<p>"Oh," answered the nurse, "I fully agree with +you in that, still I should not be doing my duty if +I did not put up a warning signal when I see danger +ahead. I do see it now. You are getting on +very nicely, but the ice is very thin,—far too thin +for any such extra weights as double study hours +and holiday dissipations. If you don't walk lightly, +there'll be a nervous breakdown."</p> + +<p>Some one called Miss Gilmer away before she +could finish her warning, and Lloyd sat facing the +fire and this unpleasant bit of counsel for nearly +half an hour. A verse from her favourite carol +came echoing through the halls from the distant +music-room, for it was practice hour again, but this +time it did not fit her mood, and it brought no cheer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +It was all well enough for those girls up-stairs, +happy and well and able to do as they pleased, to +be singing "Let <i>nothing</i> you dismay," but she +couldn't help being dismayed at Miss Gilmer's opinion +of her condition. She was ready to cry, thinking +how all her holidays would be spoiled should +she follow the nurse's advice.</p> + +<p>With her chin in her hand and her elbow on the +arm of the chair, she sat picturing her doleful +Christmas if she could have no part in the giving, +and must be left out of all the merrymaking they +had planned. Tears welled up into her eyes, and +her miserable reverie might have ended in a downpour +had it not been interrupted by the entrance +of Gay and Betty. Having taken a hasty run across +the terraces, they had obtained permission to spend +the rest of the recreation hour with Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"We can't waste a minute now," exclaimed Gay, +as she pulled out her knitting-work and began clicking +her ivory needles through a rainbow shawl she +was making. "I believe Betty sleeps with her embroidery +hoops under her pillow, and I know that +Allison paints in her sleep."</p> + +<p>"What would you do if you were in my place?" +mourned Lloyd. She repeated the nurse's dismal +warning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Boo! She magnifies her office," said Gay, +glancing over her shoulder to make sure that they +were alone. "I suppose it is perfectly natural that +she should. When you're with Miss White, she +makes you feel that there's nothing in life to live +for but Latin. When you're with Miss Hooker, +mathematics is the chief end of man. With Professor +Stroebel the violin is the one and only. So +of course a professional nurse is in duty bound to +make hygiene the first consideration. Don't listen +to them, listen to me. I change my mind a dozen +times a day, and have a new fad every fortnight, +so it stands to reason that my advice is more broad-minded +than the advice of a person who rides only +one hobby, and rides that in a rut."</p> + +<p>Lloyd laughed at Gay's foolishness, but groaned +when Betty told her how far the classes had advanced +during her absence from recitations.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to work like a beavah this next week +to catch up. I stah'ted out to have perfect repoah'ts, +and I feel that I must stick to it, as Ederyn did +when he heard the king's call. It is an obligation +that I <i>must</i> meet. I must keep tryst or die."</p> + +<p>Gay looked at her admiringly. "I knew you +were like that," she exclaimed. "If there is anything +I envy it is strength of character."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>The admiring glance and Gay's remark carried +greater weight than all the nurse's warning. There +was another reason now for persevering in her determination. +Gay expected it of her, and she could +not fall below Gay's expectation of what a strong +character should accomplish.</p> + +<p>Gay, having finished a white stripe across the +shawl, opened the sweet-grass Indian basket hanging +on her chair-post, and took out several skeins +of zephyr of a delicate sea-shell pink.</p> + +<p>"Let me hold it while you wind," begged Lloyd. +"It's such an exquisite shade, like the heart of a +la France rose. It makes me think of the stories +mothah used to tell me. Everything in them had +to be pink, from the little girl's dress to the bow +on her kitten's neck. Her slippahs, parasol, flowahs +in the garden, papah on the wall, icing on the cake, +everything had to be pink."</p> + +<p>"What a funny little creature you must have +been," laughed Gay, secretly making note of Lloyd's +favourite colour, and resolving to change the names +on two packages laid away in her trunk. The blue +sachet-bag with the forget-me-nots should go to +Betty instead of Lloyd, as she had originally intended. +Lloyd should have the one with the garlands +of pink rosebuds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My room at home is furnished in pink," Lloyd +went on. "Oh, Gay, I'm wild for you to see Locust. +I'm going to have you and the Walton girls and +Katie Mallard, one of our neighbahs, spend two +days and nights with us. While I've been cooped +up heah getting well, I've planned some of the loveliest +things to do that you evah dreamed of. It's +going to be the gayest vacation that evah was."</p> + +<p>When Miss Gilmer returned at the end of the +hour, Lloyd looked so much brighter and better +that she gave her an unexpected furlough.</p> + +<p>"There, run along to your room with the other +girls. I'll expect you back at bedtime, for I want +to keep you under my wing one more night, but +you're at liberty till then on one condition,—you're +not to look into a book."</p> + +<p>"I'll promise! Oh, I'll promise!" cried Lloyd, +impetuously throwing her arms around the nurse. +"You're <i>such</i> a deah! Not that I'm anxious to +get away from you," she added, fearing that her +delight might be misunderstood. "But I just want +to get <i>out!</i>"</p> + +<p>True to her promise, Lloyd opened no books, +but, flying to her room, she took out one of the +uncompleted Christmas gifts, a pair of bedroom +slippers, and worked with feverish haste until dinner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +was ready. It was good to be at the table again +with the other girls after her week of solitary meals +in the nursery. Afterward it was a temptation to +linger in the library talking with them, but the +thought of the many tasks undone sent her hurrying +back to her room.</p> + +<p>Betty followed presently with the Walton girls, +and they all worked steadily on their various gifts +until the bell rang for the evening study hour. +Then Allison and Kitty reluctantly departed, and +Betty took out her algebra. Lloyd crocheted in +silence for half an hour longer, her fingers flying +faster and faster in her eagerness to complete the +task. Finally she laid it down with a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed aloud. "That's done. +They're all ready for the bows. Now, thank fortune, +I can check them off my list."</p> + +<p>Betty looked up with an absent-minded smile, +nodded approvingly at the finished slippers standing +on the table, and then went on with her problems. +Lloyd opened her bureau-drawer to search +for the ribbon which she had bought for the bows. +As she rummaged through it, her hand touched the +little sandalwood box that held the unfinished rosary. +She glanced over her shoulder. Betty was +deep in her algebra. So, taking out the string of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +beads, she passed it slowly through her fingers. +Then she held it up, and, looping it around her +throat, looked in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's mighty childish of me," she said +to herself, "but I can't enjoy my vacation if I go +home with a single one of this term's pearls missing. +I've <i>got</i> to make up those lessons, no mattah +what the nurse says. I can rest aftahward."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later she presented herself at Miss +Gilmer's door with the announcement that she +would go to bed an hour earlier than usual, in order +to get a good start for the next day.</p> + +<p>All that week she worked with a restless energy +that kept her keyed to the highest pitch of effort. +She scarcely ate, and her sleep was broken, but +her eyes were so bright and her manner so animated, +that Betty wrote home that Lloyd's little +spell of illness seemed to have done her good.</p> + +<p>By studying before breakfast, and snatching +every minute she could spare from other duties, +she managed to have perfect recitations in each +study, and at the same time to make up the lessons +she had missed. Five o'clock Saturday afternoon +found her with the last task done. She slipped +ten more little Roman pearls over the silken cord; +five for the week's advance work, and five for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +days she had missed. Then with a sigh of relief +she put the sandalwood box into her trunk, +already partly packed for home-going, and flung +herself wearily across the bed.</p> + +<p>The mock Christmas tree had been lighted the +evening before, and the gifts distributed. She had +not enjoyed it as she had expected to, although +some of the jokes were excruciatingly funny, and +the girls had laughed until they were limp. She +was too tired to laugh much. She was glad that +Sunday was coming before the day of leave-taking. +She made up her mind that she would skip dinner, +and ask Betty just to slip her something from the +table.</p> + +<p>Then she remembered that this was the night the +carols were to be sung in the chapel. She could +not miss that. It was the prettiest service of all +the year, the old girls said. Some one had told +her it was a custom for everybody to wear white +to the carol-singing, but it was hard to remember +things, maybe she had only dreamed it. She wished +that she did not have to remember things, but +could lie there without moving, until morning. +What was it her mother used to sing to her? +"Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas." +Oh! The white seal's lullaby. That was what she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +wanted. How good it would feel to be rocked by +the restful motion of the waves, to be caught in that +long sleepy sweep of the slow-swinging seas.</p> + +<p>When she opened her eyes again it was to find +the room lighted, and Betty dressing for the carol +service. She had slept an hour.</p> + +<p>"It'll never do to miss the carols," Betty assured +her, when she suggested skipping dinner. +"Come on, I'll help you dress. Just tell me what +you want to wear, and I'll lay out your things +while you're shaking your wits together. You'll +feel better after you've had a hot dinner." So +struggling with the weariness which nearly overpowered +her, Lloyd forced herself to follow Betty's +example, and go down to the dining-room when +the bell rang. An hour later she fell into line +with the other girls, as, all in white, they filed into +the chapel.</p> + +<p>"How Christmasey it looks and smells," she +whispered to Allison, as the doors swung open and +a breath from the pine woods greeted them. The +chancel was wreathed and festooned with masses +of evergreen. To-night tall white candles furnished +the only light. Far down the dim aisles they twinkled +like stars against the dark background of cedar +and hemlock.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>Betty was glad that they had entered early. The +deep silence of those moments of waiting, the dim +light of the Christmas tapers, and the fragrance of +the pine seemed as much a part of the service as +anything which followed. In the expectant hush +that filled the little chapel, she pictured the three +kings riding through the night, until she could +almost see the shadowy desert and hear the tread +of the camels who bore the wise men on their starlit +quest. She saw the hillside of Judea, where the +shepherds kept their night-watch by their flocks, +and all the mystery and wonder of the first great +Christmastide seemed to vibrate through her heart, +as the deep organ prelude suddenly filled the air +with the jubilant chords of "Joy to the world, the +Lord has come."</p> + +<p>Presently the music changed, and the girls looked +around expectantly. From far down distant halls +and corridors came a chorus of girlish voices: "Oh, +little town of Bethlehem." So sweet and far away +it was, the audience in the chapel involuntarily +leaned forward to listen. Across the campus it +sounded, gradually drawing nearer and clearer, +until, with a triumphant burst of melody, the doors +swung open and the white-robed choir swept in.</p> + +<p>Only the best voices in the school had been chosen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +for this choir, and weeks of training preceded the +service. One after another they sang the sweet +old tunes of the Christmas waits until they reached +Lloyd's favourite, "Let nothing you dismay." She +listened to it with pleasure now, since her greatest +cause for dismay had been removed. She had kept +tryst with the term's obligations, as the last pearl +on the rosary could testify.</p> + +<p>In the hush that followed that carol, an old man, +with silvery hair and benign face, rose under the +tall candles of the chancel.</p> + +<p>"It's the bishop," whispered Gay to Lloyd. +"Old Bishop Chartley. He is Madam's uncle, and +he always comes down for this service."</p> + +<p>Then even her irrepressible tongue grew still, for, +in a deep voice that filled the chapel, he began to +read the story of the three wise men who followed +the star with their gifts of gold and frankincense +and myrrh, until it led them to Bethlehem's manger. +An old, old story, but it bloomed anew once more, +as it has bloomed every year since first the wondering +wise men started on their quest.</p> + +<p>The bishop closed the Book. "How shall we +keep the King's birthday?" he asked. "What gifts +shall we bring? To-day in a quaint old tale, beloved +in boyhood, I found the answer. It is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +story of a strange country called Cathay, and this +is the way it runs:</p> + +<p>"'The ruler thereof is one Kublan Khan, a +mighty warrior. His government is both wise and +just, and is administered to rich and poor alike, +without fear or favour. On the king's birthday +the people observe what is called the White Feast. +Then are the king and his court assembled in a +great room of the palace, which is all white, the +floor of marble and the walls hung with curtains +of white silk. All are in white apparel, and they +offer unto the king white gifts, to show that their +love and loyalty are without a stain. The rich bring +to their lord pearls, carvings of ivory, white chargers, +and costly broidered garments. The poor present +white pigeons and handfuls of rice. Nor doth +the great king regard one gift above another, so +long as all be white. And so do they keep the king's +birthday.'"</p> + +<p>Lloyd, leaning forward, listened with such breathless +interest that it attracted Gay's attention. +"That's just like your pink story," she whispered. +Lloyd gave her fingers a responsive squeeze, but +never took her eyes from the benign old face. The +bishop was applying the story to the audience before +him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"As these pagans of Cathay kept the feast of +Kublan Kahn, so we may make of Christmas a +White Feast, whose offerings are without stain. +We need make no weary pilgrimages across the +trackless sands, as did those Eastern sages. 'Inasmuch +as ye have done it unto the least of these my +brethren' (these are the King's own words), 'ye have +done it unto me.' At our very doors we may give +to Him, through His poor and needy.</p> + +<p>"But there is another way. You are all familiar +with the motto of this house, and the legend which +gave rise to it. Clad in the white garments of +Righteousness, we may keep the tryst as Ederyn +kept it, and bring to the King the white pearls of +a well-spent life. Days unstained by selfishness, +days filled up with duties faithfully performed. +It matters not how small and commonplace our +efforts seem, the rice and the pigeons of the poor +showed Kublan Kahn his subjects' loyalty as fully +as the ivory carvings and the costly broidered garment. +Nor doth the great King regard one gift +of ours above another, so long as all be white. If +only on our breasts the tokens Duty gives us spell +out the words, '<i>semper fidelis</i>,' then ours will be +the royal accolade: 'Well done, thou good and +faithful servant. Enter thou into the joy of thy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +Lord.' To give <i>ourselves</i>, unstained and gladly, +thus may we keep the White Feast on the birthday +of the King."</p> + +<p>Then the choir stood again, but Lloyd scarcely +noticed what it sang. She was thinking of the +bishop's story, and her secret hidden away in the +sandalwood box. She was so glad now that she +had strung the pearls. She had begun it because +it pleased her fancy to act out the story of Ederyn, +but now the sacred meaning the old bishop gave +the story thrilled her through and through. The +King's call suddenly seemed very sweet and personal. +Henceforth she would string the pearls in +answer to that call.</p> + +<p>When they all knelt in the closing prayer, she +fervently echoed the bishop's petition: "Grant +that we make of this Christmastide a White Feast, +and that all our days may be worthy of thy acceptance, +unstained by selfishness and full of deeds +to show our love and loyalty."</p> + +<p>The white-robed choir filed slowly out, their +music sounding fainter and fainter until it died +away across the campus, and the white-robed audience +was left kneeling in silence. There were tears +in Gay's eyes when she arose. Such music always +stirred her to the depths. Kitty went back to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +room humming one of the carols, and Betty stole +away to write the bishop's sermon in her little white +record, while the memory of it was still warm in +her heart.</p> + +<p>At Miss Gilmer's request, Lloyd waited a moment +in the vestibule. At first she wished that Miss +Gilmer had not detained her. She wanted to go +on with Allison, who had her by the arm. Afterward, +however, she was glad of the waiting. It +gave her an opportunity to meet the venerable +bishop.</p> + +<p>"So you are going home to-morrow for the holidays," +he said, genially, as he held out his hand. +"Godspeed, daughter. May you keep the White +Feast with joy."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Lloyd that that "Godspeed" followed +her like a benediction.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>HOMEWARD BOUND</h3> + + +<div class='poem'> +"O Warwick Hall, dear Warwick Hall,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thy happy hours we'll oft recall!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">No time or change can break thy tie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Though for awhile we say good-bye—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Good-bye! Good-bye!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Amid</span> a flutter of handkerchiefs and a babel of +parting cries, each 'bus-load of girls departed from +the Hall to the station singing the farewell song +of the school.</p> + +<p>A dozen times on the way home Allison, humming +it unconsciously, found the rest of the party +joining in. It was an uneventful journey, but a +merry one to the five girls, travelling for the first +time without a chaperon. For the first few hours +they had the observation car to themselves. Even +the porter mysteriously disappeared.</p> + +<p>"He's curled up asleep somewhere, rest his soul," +said Gay, when she had rung for him several times.</p> + +<p>"All the better," answered Kitty. "We don't +really need the table, and it's nice to have him out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +of the way. This is as good as travelling in a private +car. We can 'stand on our head in our little +trundle-bed, and nobody nigh to hinder.' Oh, girls, +I'm so crazy glad that we're on our way home that +I'm positively obliged to do something to let off +steam. I've exhausted my vocabulary trying to express +my delight, so there's nothing left but to +howl."</p> + +<p>"Or to wriggle," suggested Gay. "Why not +try facial expression? How is this for transcendent +joy?"</p> + +<p>The grotesque smile which she turned upon them +was so ridiculous that they screamed with laughter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gay, do stop!" begged Betty. "You're +as bad as a comic valentine."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see you do any better," retorted Gay.</p> + +<p>"Let's all try," suggested Kitty. "Line up in +front of this mirror, girls. Now all look pleasant, +please. Now let your smiles express rapture. Now, +frenzied delight!"</p> + +<p>Fascinated by their own ugliness, the five girls +stood in a row distorting their pretty faces with +hideous grins and grimaces until they were weak +from laughing. The banging of the car door sent +them scuttling into their seats. A portly old gentleman +passed through the car to the rear platform,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +and, slamming the door behind him, stood looking +down the rapidly vanishing track. Evidently it +was too breezy a view-point for the old gentleman, +even with his coat-collar turned up and hat pulled +down to meet his ears, for in a moment he came in +and passed back to his seat in a forward car. The +girls sat demurely looking out of the windows until +he was gone, then they faced each other, giggling.</p> + +<p>"Suppose he had caught us making those idiotic +faces," exclaimed Allison. "He would have taken +us for a lot of escaped lunatics."</p> + +<p>"No, he wouldn't," insisted Gay. "He was a +real benevolent-looking old fellow, the kind that +understands young people, and he'd know that it +was just that Christmas has gone to our heads, and +made us a little flighty. I'm sure that his name +is James, and that he has six old maid daughters. +He lives out West, and he's taking home a trunk +full of presents for them."</p> + +<p>"Let's guess what he has for them," said Kitty. +"I'll say that the oldest one is named Emmaline, +and he is taking her a squirrel fur muff."</p> + +<p>"And the next one is Agnes Dorothea," said +Betty, taking her turn, as if it were a game. "She's +the delicate one of the family, and a sort of invalid. +So he bought her a lavender shoulder shawl that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +caught his fatherly eye in a show window, because +it was so soft and fluffy. But it will shrink and +fade the first time it is washed till Agnes Dorothea +will look like a homeless cat if she wears it. Still +she will persist in putting it on because dear father +brought it to her from Washington."</p> + +<p>"He'd certainly think you all were crazy if he +could heah yoah remah'ks," laughed Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"Speaking of shawls," cried Gay, "that reminds +me of that rainbow shawl in my bag. I haven't +taken a stitch in it since we started, and I intended +to knit all the way home. I simply have to, if I'm +to get it done in time."</p> + +<p>Taking out the square of linen in which the +fleecy zephyr was wrapped, she settled herself by +the rear window in a big arm-chair, with her feet +drawn up under her, and fell to work with all her +might.</p> + +<p>"It's so nice and cosy to have the car all to ourselves," +sighed Allison, stretching out luxuriously +on the sofa. Betty, bending over her embroidery, +smiled tenderly at a picture that her memory showed +her just then. She was comparing this journey +with the first one she had ever taken. And she +saw in her thoughts a little brown-eyed girl of +eleven, setting forth on her first venture into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +wide world, with a sunbonnet tied over her curls, +and an old-fashioned covered basket on her arm. +What a dread undertaking that journey had been +from the Cuckoo's Nest to the House Beautiful. +She remembered how frightened she was, and how +she had studied the picture of Red Ridinghood, +printed in colours on the border of her handkerchief, +until she was afraid to speak even to the +conductor. She saw a possible wolf in every +stranger.</p> + +<p>Somehow her thoughts kept going back to that +time, even in the midst of Gay's most amusing nonsense, +and Kitty's brightest repartee. Even when +Allison began to sing "O Warwick Hall," and +she chimed in with the others, "Dear Warwick +Hall," she was not thinking of school, but of the +Cuckoo's Nest, and Davy, and the old weather-beaten +meeting-house, in whose window she had +passed so many summer afternoons, reading the +musty dog-eared books she found in the little red +bookcase.</p> + +<p>"What are you smiling about, Betty, all to yoahself?" +asked Lloyd. "You look as if you are a +thousand miles away."</p> + +<p>Betty glanced up with a little start. "Oh, I was +just thinking about the Cuckoo's Nest, and wishing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +that I could see Davy's face when they open the +Christmas box I sent. There are only trifles in it, +but the box will mean a lot to them, for Cousin +Hetty never has time to make anything of Christmas."</p> + +<p>Lloyd sat up with a sudden exclamation. "Oh, +Betty, I <i>beg</i> yoah pah'don. There's a lettah for +you in my bag from some of them that I forgot to +give you. Hawkins came up with it just as we +drove off, and there was so much excitement and +confusion I nevah thought of it again till this minute. +I'm mighty sorry I forgot."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't make any difference," Betty assured +her. "Good news can afford to wait, and, if it's +bad news, it would have spoiled all the first part +of this trip."</p> + +<p>She tore open the envelope and glanced down +the page. Lloyd, looking up, saw a distressed expression +cross her face and the brown eyes fill with +tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's poor little Davy that's in trouble," said +Betty, answering Lloyd's anxious question. "He +had his leg badly hurt last week, broken in two +places. He was riding one of those heavy old farm +horses, hurrying home to get out of a storm. Going +down a steep, slippery hill, it stumbled and fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +on him. He'll have to lie in bed for weeks, with +his knee in plaster, and he's so tired of it already, +and <i>so</i> lonesome. Nobody has any time to sit with +him. I know how it is. I was sick myself once +at the Cuckoo's Nest. Oh, I'd give anything if I +could spend my vacation there with him."</p> + +<p>"And give up all your good times at home?" +cried Kitty. "He surely couldn't expect such a +sacrifice as that."</p> + +<p>"But it wouldn't be any sacrifice. Not a mite! +I haven't seen him for such a long time, and I'd +love to go. He used to be the dearest little fellow, +never out of my sight a moment during the day. +They used to call him 'Betty's shadow.'"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go if you wish it so much?" +was on the tip of Gay's tongue, but she stopped +the question just before it slipped off, remembering +Betty's dependence on her godmother. Kitty had +told her all about it one time. Naturally she +wouldn't want to ask for the money, even for such +a short journey, when so much was being spent to +keep her at school with Lloyd; and naturally she +would not want to ask to leave Locust at Christmas, +when that was the time of all the year when she +could be of service, and in many ways add greatly +to the pleasure of the entire household.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>The nonsense stopped for a few minutes. No one +knew what to say to comfort Betty, although they +were genuinely sorry, and glanced from time to +time at the brown head turned away from them +toward the window. She was looking at the flying +landscape through a blur of tears, recalling the +way little Davy's dimpled fingers had clung to hers, +his chubby feet followed her. Of course he was +much larger and older, she told herself, not at all +like the little fellow she had left so long ago. He +was big enough to stand pain now, and probably +the worst of his suffering was over. Still, she saw +only a solemn baby face when she pictured him, +and heard only the lisping voice, saying as he used +to say when stumped toe or bruised finger brought +the tears: "It hurth your Davy boy. Tie a wag +on it, Betty." How he had loved her stories! +What a pleasure they would be to him now in the +long days he would be forced to spend in bed.</p> + +<p>Suddenly conscious of the silence around her, +Betty turned, realizing that her depression had cast +a shadow on the spirits of all the rest.</p> + +<p>"Don't think about my bad news any more," +she said, brightly. "It probably isn't half as bad +as I have been picturing it. My imagination always +runs away with me. It isn't Davy the baby that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +had such an awful accident. It was that thought +that hurt me so at first. I keep forgetting that +it's five years since I left there. I'm going to drop +him a postal card at the next station. I can write +to him every day, and make a sort of game of the +letters with riddles and suggestions of things for +him to do, and that will help the time pass."</p> + +<p>"First call to dinnah in the dinah," called a +coloured waiter, passing through the car in white +jacket and apron.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll have to stop all our foolishness," +said Allison, sedately, as she rose to lead the way +to the dining-car. They followed as decorously as +grandmothers, each realizing the responsibility that +devolved on her, since they were travelling without +a chaperon.</p> + +<p>To be sure, Gay choked on an olive when Kitty +made some wicked remark about the fussy old +woman across the aisle, who wouldn't be pleased +with anything the waiter brought her; and it was +too much for their gravity when an excessively +dignified man at the next table, who had been staring +at the wall like a wooden Indian, suddenly +sneezed so violently that his eye-glasses dropped +into his soup with a splash.</p> + +<p>Otherwise they were models of propriety, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +more than one head turned to look at the bright +girlish faces, and smile at the keen, unspoiled enjoyment +which they evidently found in life and in +each other.</p> + +<p>They did not stay long in the observation-car +when they went back to it after dinner. Other +people had come in, and it was not so attractive +as when they occupied it alone. The lamps had +been lighted so early that short December day that +it seemed much later than it really was, and they +were all tired. At nine o'clock, when they went to +their berths in the forward end of the car, they +found several sections already made up for the +night, and the porter was moving on down toward +theirs.</p> + +<p>The fussy old woman, who had been so hard to +please at the table, came squeezing her way through +the valises that blocked the aisle, and took possession +of the section opposite Betty and Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my country!" whispered Lloyd. "I wondah +if she's going to keep up that grumbling and +scolding all night. I'm glad that I am not that +poah henpecked maid of hers. She certainly makes +life misahable for her."</p> + +<p>It was nearly two hours before Jenkins, the long-suffering +maid, succeeded in settling her mistress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +to her satisfaction behind the curtains of her berth. +The girls made no attempt to get into the dressing-room +until the little comedy was over. They +laughed until they were hysterical over each scene +as it occurred. A comedy in three acts, Betty called +it—the losing of the cold-cream bottle and the +finding of same in madam's overshoe. The unavailing +search for a certain black silk handkerchief in +which madam was wont to tie her head up in of +nights, and the substitution of a towel instead, which +the porter obligingly brought.</p> + +<p>Next there was a supposed case of poisoning, +Jenkins in her trepidation having administered three +pink pellets from a bottle instead of two white ones +from a box. Five minutes' reign of terror after +that mistake brought the poor maid to a witless +state that left her almost helpless. Various trips +were made to the dressing-room, at which times +the old lady's face was massaged, her grizzly hair +rolled on crimping-pins, and her shoulders rubbed +with an evil-smelling liniment which permeated the +whole car. She seemed as oblivious to the presence +of the other passengers as if she were on a desert +island, and, being somewhat deaf, made Jenkins +repeat her timid replies louder and louder until they +were almost screaming at each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>Every one on the car was smiling broadly when +at last she subsided behind the curtains. The smiles +grew to audible mirth when she confided in a loud +voice to Jenkins, stowed away in the berth above +her, that she hoped to goodness nobody on board +would snore and keep her awake.</p> + +<p>Jenkins's answer, floating tremulously down, +convulsed the sleepy girls: "Hi 'ope not, ma'am. +Hit's a bad 'abit, ma'am, halmost, you might say, +han haffliction."</p> + +<p>"What?" came in a thunderous voice from the +lower berth, and Jenkins, craning her head turtle-wise +over the edge of her bed, called back in a +tremulous squeak: "Hi honly said as 'ow hit were +a bad 'abit, ma'am!"</p> + +<p>"Hump!" was the answer. "See that you don't +do it yourself. I've got my umbrella here ready to +punch you if you do."</p> + +<p>A titter ran from seat to seat. The girls, unable +to stifle their amusement any longer, seized their +bags and hurried down the aisle to the dressing-room, +where, under cover of the rattle of the train, +they could laugh as freely as they pleased.</p> + +<p>When Lloyd and Betty stole back to their berths +a few minutes later, they looked at each other with +an amused smile. From the opposite section came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +an unmistakable sound, long-drawn and penetrating +as a cross-cut saw. Madam was evidently asleep. +Betty giggled, as from Jenkins's perch came a gentle +echo.</p> + +<p>"'Hi honly said as 'ow hit were a bad 'abit, +ma'am,'" whispered Lloyd. "Wouldn't you love +to jab the old lady herself with an umbrella?"</p> + +<p>Gay, in the dressing-room, was carefully counting +over her toilet articles, as she put them back +into her bag. "Soap-box, comb, nail-file, tooth-powder—I +haven't lost a thing this trip, Allison. +I'm beginning to feel proud of myself. Here's my +watch and here's my tickets, buttoned up in this +pocket. Mamma had it made on purpose, so in +case of a wreck at night I'd have them on me. She +patted the pocket sewed securely in the dark blue +silk robe she wore, made in loose kimono fashion.</p> + +<p>"Now I'm all ready," she added, dropping her +shoes into her bag and closing it. In her soft Indian +moccasins, beaded like a squaw's, she executed a +little heel and toe dance in the narrow passage outside, +while she waited for Allison to gather up her +clothes and follow. She thought every one else +was in bed, and when suddenly the outside door +opened and she heard some one coming in from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +next car, she flew down the aisle like a frightened +rabbit.</p> + +<p>It was only a brakeman who stood just inside +the door a moment with his lantern, and then went +out again. All the lights had been turned down in +the car, and Gay stumbled several times over shoes +and valises protruding in the aisle. But finally, +with a bound, she made her escape, as she supposed, +from whoever it was that had caught her dancing +in her moccasins in the passage.</p> + +<p>She gave a headlong dive into her berth. Just +then the car lurched forward, sending her bag banging +against the window, but she did not loosen her +hold of it, and she was still clinging to it five minutes +later.</p> + +<p>For, with a scream of terror, she rolled out of +the berth far faster than she had rolled in. It was +madam's fat body that writhed under her, and her +stern voice that yelled "Murder! murder!" in a +voice calculated to wake the dead.</p> + +<p>"'Elp! 'elp!" screamed Jenkins from the upper +berth, afraid to look out between the curtains, but +bravely pushing the button of the porter's bell till +some one, wakened by the cries and persistent ringing, +wildly called "Fire!"</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 303px;"> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="303" height="500" alt=""'I TELL YOU SOMEBODY WAS TRYING TO SANDBAG ME'"" title=""'I TELL YOU SOMEBODY WAS TRYING TO SANDBAG ME'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'I TELL YOU SOMEBODY WAS TRYING TO SANDBAG ME'"</span> +</div> + +<p>"It's train robbahs!" gasped Lloyd, sitting up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +Little cold shivers ran up and down her back, but +she was conscious of a pleasant thrill of excitement. +Heads were thrust out all up and down the aisle. +The bell and the cries of murder and 'elp never +stopped until the porter and Pullman conductor +came running to the rescue.</p> + +<p>But there was nothing for them to see. At the +first yell, Gay had tumbled hastily out, still clinging +to her bag. Before the old lady had sufficiently +recovered from her surprise enough to wonder what +sort of a wild beast had pounced in upon her, Gay +was safe in her own berth, drawn up in a knot, and +trembling behind her closely buttoned curtains. +Her heart beat so loud that she thought it would +certainly betray her.</p> + +<p>"You must have had the nightmare," said the +conductor, politely, trying not to smile as the angry +face, under its towel turban, glared out at him.</p> + +<p>"Nightmare!" blazed the irate old lady. "I'm +no fool. Don't you suppose that I know when I'm +hit? I tell you somebody was trying to sandbag +me. I thought a Saratoga trunk had fallen in on +me. It's your business to take care of passengers +on this train, and I intend to hold the company +responsible. I shall certainly sue the railroad for +this shock to my nervous system as soon as I get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +home. I have a weak heart and I can't stand such +performances as this."</p> + + +<p>It took a long time to pacify her. Gay lay in her +berth, shaking first with fright and then with laughter. +She could not go to sleep without sharing her +secret with the other girls, but she was afraid to +trust herself to speak. She had grown almost hysterical +over the affair. Finally she crept in beside +Lloyd to whisper, brokenly: "<i>I</i> am the nightmare +that sandbagged the old lady. <i>I</i> am the Saratoga +trunk that fell on her. Oh, Lloyd, I'll never brag +again. I had just told Allison I hadn't lost a single +thing this trip, and then I turned around and lost +myself. I got into the wrong berth. Oh! oh! It +was so funny to see her, all done up in that towel. +It'll kill me if I can't stop laughing."</p> + +<p>She crept back to her own side of the aisle again, +and Lloyd got up to repeat it to Betty and Allison, +who passed it on to Kitty. It was nearly half an +hour before they stopped giggling over it, and then +Kitty started them all afresh by leaning out to say, +in a stage whisper, as a certain duet was renewed +by Jenkins and her mistress, "'Hi honly said as +'ow hit were a bad 'abit.'"</p> + +<p>It was snowing next morning, just a few flakes +against the window-pane, as they sat in the dining-car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +at breakfast, but the landscape grew whiter as +they whirled on toward home.</p> + +<p>"Just as it ought to be for Christmas," declared +Allison. "Oh, The Beeches will look so lovely in +the snow, and the big log fire will seem so good, +I can hardly wait to get there!"</p> + +<p>"I know just how it's all going to be," exclaimed +Kitty, wriggling impatiently in her seat. +"It will be this way, Gay. They'll all be down +at the station to meet us, mother and little Elise +and Uncle Harry and his dog. Aunt Allison will +probably be there, too, and grandmother, if she +feels well enough. And old black fat Butler will +be standing by the baggage-room door with his +wheelbarrow, waiting to take our trunks. And +we'll all talk at once. Everybody along the road +will be calling 'Howdy!' to us, and at the post-office +Miss Mattie will come out to shake hands with +us, and tell us how glad she is to see us back. Then +it'll be just a step, past the church and the manse +and the Bakewell cottage, and we'll turn in at The +Beeches, <i>and the fun will begin</i>."</p> + +<p>Betty turned to Gay. "That doesn't sound very +exciting or especially interesting to a stranger, but, +oh, Gay, the Valley is so <i>dear</i> when you once get +to know it. And when you go back, you feel almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +as if everybody were related to you, they're all +so friendly and cordial and glad to welcome you +home."</p> + +<p>Even to impatient schoolgirls homeward bound, +the journey's end comes at last, so by nightfall it +all happened just as Kitty had predicted. Such +a royal welcome awaited Gay that she felt drawn +into the midst of things from the moment she +stepped from the car.</p> + +<p>"You're right, Betty," she whispered as she left +her. "It <i>is</i> a dear Valley, and I feel already as if +I belong here."</p> + +<p>The two groups separated when the checks had +been sorted out and the baggage disposed of. Then, +still laughing and talking, Kitty led one on its merry +way toward The Beeches, and the other whirled +rapidly away in the carriage toward the lights of +Locust.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A PICNIC IN THE SNOW</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">What</span> a good gray day this is!" exclaimed +Betty next morning, turning from the window to +look around the cheerful breakfast-room, all aglow +with an open wood-fire. "It's so bleak outside that +there is no temptation to go gadding, and so cosy +indoors that we'll be glad of the chance to stay at +home and finish tying up our Christmas packages."</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Lloyd, who, having finished her +breakfast, was standing on the hearth-rug, her back +to the fire and her hands clasped behind her. +"And for once I intend to have mine all ready +the day befoah, so I need not be rushed up to the +last minute. For that reason I am glad that mothah +had to take the early train to town this mawning, +to finish her shopping. If she'd been at home, I +should have talked all the time, without accomplishing +a thing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think your tissue-paper and ribbon was put +into my trunk," said Betty, drumming idly on the +window-pane. "I'll go and unpack it in a minute, +and have it off my mind, as soon as I see who this +is coming up the avenue."</p> + +<p>A tall young fellow had turned in at the gate, +and was striding along toward the house as if in +a great hurry.</p> + +<p>"It's Rob Moore!" she exclaimed, in surprise. +"I thought he wasn't coming home until Christmas +eve."</p> + +<p>"So did I," answered Lloyd, crossing the room +to look over Betty's shoulder. "I'll beat you to +the front doah, Betty."</p> + +<p>There was a wild dash through the hall. Both +slim figures bounced against the door at the same +instant. There was a laughing scuffle over the latch, +and then the two girls stood arm in arm between +the white pillars of the porch, gaily calling a greeting.</p> + +<p>Rob waved a pair of skates in reply, and quickened +his stride until he came within speaking distance. +One would have thought from his greeting +that they had seen each other only the day before. +Rob never wasted time on formalities.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, girls! Get your skates. The ice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +is fine on the creek, and there's a crowd waiting +for us down at the depot."</p> + +<p>"Who?" demanded Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the MacIntyre boys and the Walton girls +and that little red-headed thing that they brought +home from school with them. Kitty's going to +have a picnic on the creek bank for her."</p> + +<p>"A picnic in Decembah!" ejaculated Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"That's what she said," Rob answered, clicking +his skates together as he followed the girls into the +house. "They telephoned over to me to hustle up +here and get you girls. They're on their way to +the station now. We're to meet them in the waiting-room."</p> + +<p>"They should have let us know soonah," began +Lloyd, "so that we could have had a lunch ready. +There'll be nothing cooked to take this time of day."</p> + +<p>"They didn't know it themselves," he interrupted. +"Kitty proposed it at the breakfast-table, +and they just grabbed up whatever they could get +their hands on and started off."</p> + +<p>"We have so much to do to-day," said Betty. +"I don't see how we can ever get through if we stop +for this."</p> + +<p>"Let everything slide!" begged Rob. "Do your +work to-morrow. This will be lots of fun. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +ice may not last more than a day or so, and the +MacIntyre boys are not going to be out here all +vacation."</p> + +<p>"I suppose we could tie up those packages to-night," +said Lloyd, with an inquiring look at Betty.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Rob answered for her. "And I'll +help you with anything you have to do. Come on."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you run out to the kitchen and ask +Aunt Cindy to give you something for a lunch,—anything +in sight, and we'll get ready while Mom +Beck finds our skates."</p> + +<p>Rob rubbed his ears apprehensively. "I'd as +soon beard the lion in his den as Aunt Cindy in her +kitchen. She's never forgiven my early thefts."</p> + +<p>"Go on, goosey," laughed Lloyd. "Don't you +know that since you're 'growed up,' as Aunt Cindy +says, she swears by you? I heard her tell Mom +Beck last night she reckoned she'd have to make +a batch of little sugah hah't cakes right away, for +Mistah Rob would be coming prowling round her +cooky jah."</p> + +<p>"Am I growed up?" asked Rob gravely, throwing +back his shoulders and looking into the mirror +at the tall reflection it showed him.</p> + +<p>"You are in inches and ells," laughed Lloyd, +"but you're not always six feet tall in yoah actions."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's only when I am in your society that I appear +so juvenile," retorted Rob. "When I'm away +at school with the other fellows, I feel and act as +old as Daddy, but when I'm back home, where you +all seem to expect me to be a kid, I naturally adjust +myself to that role just to be companionable and +obliging. You would be afraid of me if I were +to turn out my whiskers and stand back on my +dignity. You know you would."</p> + +<p>"Don't try it, Bobby," advised Lloyd. "It +wouldn't be becoming. Trot out to Aunt Cindy +and get the lunch. That's a good little man. We'll +be ready in just a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Even in her baby days, Lloyd had been patronizing +at times to her good-natured playmate, ordering +him about with a princess-like right that always +seemed part of the game. So now he laughingly +shrugged his shoulders and started to the kitchen, +while Lloyd followed Betty up-stairs to change her +slippers for heavy-soled walking-boots.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the three were hurrying +down the avenue to the gate, under the bare windswept +branches of the locusts.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Cindy had disappeared temporarily," said +Rob. "There wasn't a soul in the kitchen, so I +rummaged around till I found this old basket, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +filled it with a little of everything in sight. It is +a long way to the creek. We'll be ready to eat +nails by the time we tramp over there in this snappy +weather."</p> + +<p>"It is snappy," agreed Lloyd. "Betty, yoah +cheeks are as red as fiah."</p> + +<p>The rosy face under the brown tam-o'-shanter +smiled back at her. "So are yours. Aren't they, +Rob? They are as red as her coat."</p> + +<p>"Hello!" exclaimed Rob, noticing for the first +time the long red coat that Lloyd wore. "That's +something new, isn't it? I thought you looked +different, but I couldn't tell exactly what it was. +That's a stunner, sure enough, Princess. It sort +of livens up the landscape."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you like it," laughed Lloyd, "but I +don't believe you would have seen it at all if Betty +hadn't called yoah attention to it. You'll nevah +get on in society, Bobby, if you don't learn to notice +things. You'll miss all the chances most boys take +advantage of to pay compliments and make pretty +little speeches."</p> + +<p>Rob scowled. "You know I don't go in for that +sort of stuff."</p> + +<p>"But you ought to," persisted Lloyd, who was +in a perverse mood. "I considah it my duty to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +you in hand and teach you. You may practise on +Betty and me. Now we've been talking to Gay all +term about our friends in Lloydsboro Valley, and +naturally we want everybody to put their best foot +foremost and show off their prettiest. Malcolm +and Keith will leave a charming impression of themselves, +because they will make her feel in such an +easy graceful way that she has made that sawt of +an impression on them. If she wears an especially +pretty dress, or says an especially bright thing, or +plays unusually well, they will notice it in some +way so that she will know that they noticed it, and +that they were pleased. Naturally that will please +her, and she will like them bettah for it."</p> + +<p>Rob faced her with a whimsical expression. +"Look here, Lloyd Sherman, I've played every kind +of a game that you've asked me to ever since I +learned to walk. I've been your man Friday when +you wanted to be Robinson Crusoe, and played +B'r Fox to your B'r Rabbit. You've scalped me +and buried me and dug me up. You've made +me be Pharaoh with the ten plagues of Egypt, or +a Christian martyr thrown to the wild beasts, just +as it pleased your fancy. I've even played dolls +with you week at a time, but I swear I draw the +line at this. I'll do anything in reason to help entertain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +your chum,—ride or dance or skate or get +up private theatricals,—but I'll <i>not</i> make a ninny +of myself trying to be flowery and get off complimentary +speeches. It comes natural to some people, +but I'm not built that way. I'd be as awkward at +it as a fish out of water."</p> + +<p>Lloyd turned her head with a despairing gesture. +"Oh, Rob, you're hopeless! You don't undahstand +at all! Nobody wants you to be flowery, and nobody +likes flat-footed, out-and-out compliments. +They're not nice at all. I just meant—well—I +scarcely know what I <i>did</i> mean, but you know how +Malcolm does. It isn't that he says a thing in so +many words, but he has a way of somehow making +you feel that he has noticed nice things about you, +and that he is <i>thinking</i> compliments."</p> + +<p>"Gee whiz!" exclaimed Rob, in a teasing tone. +"Say that again, won't you please, and say it +slowly, so that I can take it all in. Do I get the +thought? To be agreeable one must not say things, +but must cultivate an air of having noticed that you +are agreeable, and stand off and think compliments +so hard that you can actually feel them flying +through the air. Is that your idea?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! Stop your teasing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, that is what you said, or words to that +effect. Didn't she, Betty?"</p> + +<p>The brown eyes flashed an amused smile at him. +They walked along in silence for a few minutes, +then he said, humbly, but with a twinkle in his eye +which boded mischief: "Well, I'll do the best I +can to please you, Lloyd. I'll watch Malcolm till +I get the hang of it, then I'll stand off and think +compliments about your friend till her ears burn +and she is duly impressed. Grandfather is always +saying, 'Who does the best his circumstance allows, +does nobly. Angels could do no more.'"</p> + +<p>"I wish I had never mentioned the subject," +pouted Lloyd, as they walked on down the frozen +pike. "I simply meant to give you a little advice +for yoah own good, and you've gone and made a +joke of it. I am suah you'll say or do something +befoah the mawning is ovah that will make Gay +think you are perfectly dreadful."</p> + +<p>Rob only laughed in answer, leaving her to infer +that she had good reason for her fears. As they +passed the only store which the Valley boasted, +Kitty came rushing out, a bright new tin saucepan +dangling at her side like a drum. It was tied by +a piece of twine, and she was beating a tattoo upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +it with a long-handled iron spoon. Keith followed, +his overcoat pockets bulging with parcels.</p> + +<p>"Are you playing Santa Claus this early?" cried +Betty, as he hurried across to shake hands with +them.</p> + +<p>"No; Kitty decided that no social function in +the woods was properly a picnic without a fire and +some kind of a mess to cook. So we stopped at +the store, and she's loaded me down with stuff for +fudge. Malcolm and the girls are on ahead in the +waiting-room."</p> + +<p>"Where's Ranald?" asked Lloyd, as they crossed +the railroad track and walked along the platform +toward the door of the station.</p> + +<p>"He's gone hunting with John Baylor, the boy +he brought home from school with him," answered +Kitty. "We can't get him within a stone's throw +of Gay. I teased him so unmercifully in my letters +about the girl who had asked for his picture to put +in her group of heroes that he won't even look in +her direction."</p> + +<p>As Lloyd greeted Malcolm, whom she had not +seen since the close of the summer vacation, and +then stood talking with him while Allison introduced +Rob to her guest, she was conscious that +Rob was watching every motion, and making note<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +of it, to tease her afterward. A few moments later, +when they were all discussing a choice of places +for the picnic-grounds, he edged over to her.</p> + +<p>"Now I understand what you mean," he said, in +a low voice. "Malcolm didn't say anything about +that red coat. He just gave a sort of quick, pleased +glance at it, as if it had hit him hard, and made +some gallant speech about a Kentucky cardinal. I +tried my best to follow suit. So when I was introduced, +I gave the same kind of a glad start when +I saw her hair, and was about to make a similar +reference to a Texas redbird, when my courage +failed me. So I just stood off and fired the +name at her in thought till I'm sure she understood."</p> + +<p>"You mean thing!" exclaimed Lloyd, under her +breath. "Her hair isn't red. It's just a deep, rich, +bronzy auburn, and perfectly lovely. I do wish +I'd nevah said anything. Now you'll not act natural, +and you won't like each othah as I had hoped +you would."</p> + +<p>A gayer picnic party never started down the +pike than the one that went laughing along the +road that winter morning, under barbed-wire fences, +through pasture gates, across bare woodlands, and +over frozen corn-fields. It was a still gray morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +with the chill of snow in the air, and presently the +snow began to fall in big feathery flakes.</p> + +<p>Gay was delighted. She held up her face to let +the cold, star-shaped crystals settle on it. She +caught them on her sleeve to marvel over their airy +beauty. "It's like frozen thistle-down!" she cried. +"I hope it will snow all day and all night until +everything is covered. I never saw a white Christmas."</p> + +<p>"This will stop the skating," said Allison, "unless +we had a broom to sweep the ice as it falls."</p> + +<p>Rob offered to go back for one, but they were +so far on their way they all protested it would not +be worth while.</p> + +<p>"How much farthah is it?" asked Lloyd, presently. +For the last half-mile she had had nothing +to say, and had fallen behind the others.</p> + +<p>"I'm so tiahed I can hardly take another step."</p> + +<p>Rob looked at her curiously. It seemed strange +for Lloyd to admit that she was tired. He had +known her to tramp nearly all day after nuts, and +then be ready for a horseback ride afterward.</p> + +<p>"We'll stop just over this hill," he replied. +"There's a good place to camp. Here! Catch hold +of my skate-strap, and I'll help pull you up."</p> + +<p>"It helps some," she said, clinging to the strap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +swung over his shoulder, "but I don't believe I'll +evah get ovah this hill."</p> + +<p>"It looks like a grove of Christmas trees!" cried +Gay, as they started down the other side toward +the creek. Little cedars from two to five feet high +dotted the hillside, and the snow had drifted across +them till the branches drooped with the soft white +burden. It began blowing faster, and coming down +like a thick white sheet between them and the creek.</p> + +<p>Rob, who had often picnicked here on his hunting +trips, led the way farther down the hill to a +cavelike opening under an overhanging ledge of +rocks.</p> + +<p>"This will keep the wind off your backs," he +said. "Huddle down here a few minutes until we +build a fire. Then you'll be all right."</p> + +<p>Some charred sticks and ashes between two flat +rocks, with an old piece of sheet iron laid on top, +marked the spot where many meals had been +cooked. The boys began at once foraging for firewood. +There was plenty of it all around,—dead +limbs and broken twigs,—and soon they had a +big heap ready to light.</p> + +<p>"Now if somebody can donate a piece of paper +to start a blaze, we'll have you warm in a jiffy," +said Rob.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>Keith slapped his pockets. "I haven't a scrap," +he declared. "Malcolm, you might be able to spare +that bunch of letters you carry around in your +pocket. You've read them enough to know them +by heart, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, keep still, can't you?" muttered Malcolm, +in an aside. "Don't get funny now."</p> + +<p>"See him get red!" whispered Keith to Betty. +"They're from a girl he met at the first college +hop last fall. She's older than he is, but he thinks +she's the one and only."</p> + +<p>Then he turned to Malcolm again. "You might +at least spare the envelopes when it's to keep us +from freezing. It would be a big sacrifice, but to +save your own blood and kin, you know—"</p> + +<p>Malcolm stole a quick glance at Lloyd, but she +was leaning wearily against the ledge of rocks, paying +no attention to Keith's remarks. Kitty solved +the difficulty by diving into Keith's pockets after +the packages, and emptying the brown sugar and +chocolate into the saucepan. She handed the wrapping-paper +and bag to Rob, saying if that was not +enough she would scratch the label off the can of +evaporated cream.</p> + +<p>Carefully holding his hat over the pile of twigs +to shield it from the wind, Rob applied a match to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +the paper. It blazed up and caught the wood at +once, and in a few moments a comfortable fire was +crackling in front of them. Back in the cavelike +hollow, under the rocks, the boys found a big, dry +log, which other campers had put there for a seat. +They rolled it forward toward the fire. Some flat +stones were soon heated for the girls to put their +feet on, and, warmed and rested, they began to investigate +the contents of the baskets.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" groaned Lloyd. "What a lunch +you did pick up for a wintah day! These slabs +of cold pumpkin pie would freeze the teeth of a +polah beah, and there's nothing else but pickles and +cheese and apples and raw eggs."</p> + +<p>"That's fine!" exclaimed Allison. "We can +roast the eggs in the ashes, and I've brought bacon +to broil over the fire on switches. And here's +crackers and gingersnaps and salmon—"</p> + +<p>"And peanuts," added Kitty, "don't forget them. +Or the fudge. We will have that ready in a little +while."</p> + +<p>"Now what could be jollier than this?" cried +Gay, as she took the long, pointed switch that Rob +cut for her, and held a piece of bacon over the fire +to broil. "It's a thousand times nicer than a picnic +in the summer, when you get so hot, and the mosquitoes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +and redbugs and spiders swarm all over +you."</p> + +<p>Lloyd, with a sigh of relief, saw that Rob was +"acting natural" at last, and he and Gay were +showing off to mutual advantage. She was enjoying +the novel experience so fully that she was in +her brightest spirits, and he was talking to her with +the familiar ease with which he talked to Lloyd and +Betty, even scolding her with brotherly frankness +when she dripped bacon grease around too promiscuously.</p> + +<p>The eggs were saltless, the bacon smoked and +black, because, held in the flame as often as against +the embers, nearly every piece caught fire and had +to be blown out. Smoke blew in their eyes, and +the snow fell thicker and thicker. But, with their +feet on the hot stones, their backs to the sheltering +ledge of rocks, and the fire crackling in front of +them, they sang and laughed and ate with a zest +which no summer picnic could have inspired.</p> + +<p>No one had remembered to bring a pail for water, +and rather than tramp over another hill to a distant +spring, they quenched their thirst with handfuls +of snow. The fudge boiled over, and more +than half of it was lost in the ashes.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing that it did," Allison declared,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +tossing the empty salmon box and a bag of peanut +shells into the fire. "Ugh! The mixture we've +already eaten is enough to kill us! I think we ought +to start back home now. I'm sure that I heard the +one o'clock train whistle."</p> + +<p>But Kitty protested. They hadn't been out half +long enough, she said. If the ice on the creek had +been free from snow, they would have skated for +hours, and she thought as long as that sport had +been spoiled, they ought to do something to make +up for it. Gay had never gathered any mistletoe. +She thought it would be fun for them all to go +around by Stone Hollow, and get some off the big +trees that grew in the surrounding pastures.</p> + +<p>Lloyd listened to the ready assent of the others +with a sinking heart. She had been leaning back +against the rocks for some time, taking no part +in the conversation. She had grown so tired that +she dreaded the long tramp home, and had been +vainly wishing that Tarbaby could suddenly appear +on the scene, or some one with a conveyance. +Even a wheelbarrow or a go-cart would have been +welcome. She could not remember that she had +ever felt so exhausted before in all her life.</p> + +<p>"But I won't be the one to hang back and spoil +every one's fun," she said to herself, "They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +wouldn't let me go home the shorter way by myself. +It would only break up the pah'ty if I proposed it. +But I do not see how I can evah drag myself all +the way around by Stone Hollow."</p> + +<p>At another time they might have noticed that she +lagged behind, that she had little to say, and that +she looked white and tired. But Gay, her spirits +rising in the wintry air, was in her most rollicking +mood. Even Kitty had never known her to say so +many funny things or to tell so many amusing experiences. +She followed on behind with Lloyd, +watching admiringly as Gay's bright face was +turned first toward Malcolm, then toward Rob, +jubilant to see that her guest was captivating them +as she did every one else who fell under the charm +of her vivacious manner.</p> + +<p>Betty and Allison were on ahead with Keith, +keeping a sharp lookout for mistletoe. Lloyd +scarcely heard what any one said. She plodded +along like one in a dream. It was an effort just +to lift her feet. Only one thing in life seemed desirable +just then, that was her warm soft bed at +home. If she could only creep into that and shut +her tired eyes and lie there, she wouldn't care if +she didn't waken for a month. She felt that it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +would be bliss to sleep through Christmas and the +entire vacation.</p> + +<p>The long walk came to an end at last. The roundabout +route through Stone Hollow led them near +Locust, and, with their arms full of mistletoe, the +merry picnickers parted from Lloyd and Betty at +the gate. Gay exclaimed enthusiastically over the +beautiful old avenue, leading under the snow-covered +locusts to the house, but to Lloyd's relief her +invitation to come in was refused. There were a +dozen reasons why they could not stop, but they +promised to be over early next morning.</p> + +<p>"It has been the very loveliest picnic I ever went +to in my whole life," declared Gay, as they turned +away. "I'd like to turn around and do it all over +again."</p> + +<p>"So would I," echoed Betty, warmly. "I'm not +at all tired."</p> + +<p>Lloyd looked at her in vague wonder as they +plodded up the avenue. "I don't know what's the +mattah with me," she said, "that I couldn't keep +up with you all, unless it's true what Miss Gilmer +said. The ice is too thin for holiday dissipations, +and this picnic was too great a weight for it."</p> + +<p>Betty glanced at her white face anxiously. "Go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +and lie down the rest of the afternoon," she said. +"I'll tie up your packages."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you only would!" exclaimed Lloyd, +gratefully. "But it seems too much to ask of any +one. Don't tell mothah that I got so woh'n out. +I'll be all right by evening."</p> + +<p>"She hasn't come home yet," said Betty, looking +ahead of them at the smooth expanse of newly fallen +snow. "There isn't a track either of foot or wheel."</p> + +<p>"Then maybe I'll have time for a nap, and be all +rested when she comes," said Lloyd. "I don't want +her to get any of Miss Gilmer's notions about me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>A PROGRESSIVE CHRISTMAS PARTY</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lloyd</span> stood at the window in the falling twilight +and looked out across the snow. It had been +an ideal Christmas Day. She could feel the chill +of the white winter world outside as she leaned +against the frosty pane, but in her scarlet dress, +with the holly berries at her belt and in her hair, +she looked the embodiment of Christmas warmth +and cheer, and as if no cold could touch her.</p> + +<p>The candles had not yet been lighted, but the +room was filled <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'wth'">with</ins> the ruddy glow of the big wood +fire. It shone warmly on the frames of the portraits +and the tall gilded harp with its shining +strings, and gave a burnishing touch to Betty's +brown hair, as she stood by the piano, fingering +for the hundredth time the presents she had received +that day. Her dress of soft white wool suggested, +like Lloyd's, the Yule-tide season, for in the belt +and shoulder-knots of dull green velvet were caught +clusters of mistletoe, the tiny waxen berries gleaming +like pearls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Everything is <i>so</i> lovely!" she sighed, happily, +picking up her camera to admire it once more. It +was her godmother's gift, and the thing she had +most longed to own.</p> + +<p>She focussed it on Lloyd, who, in her scarlet +dress, stood vividly outlined by the firelight against +the curtains. "I took three pictures this morning +while Rob was here, all snow scenes. The house, +the locust avenue, and a group of little darkies running +after your grandfather, calling out, 'Chris'mus +gif', Colonel!' I think I'd better carry my +things all up to my room," she added, presently. +"There'll be so many people here soon, and so +much moving around when the hunt begins, that +they'll be in the way."</p> + +<p>"You'll need a wheelbarrow to take them in," +answered Lloyd, turning from the window to watch +her gather them up. "You'd bettah call Walkah +to help you."</p> + +<p>"Santa Claus certainly was good to me," answered +Betty, picking up Mr. Sherman's gift, a +beautiful mother-of-pearl opera-glass. It was like +the one he had given Lloyd, except for the difference +in monograms. She rubbed it lovingly with +her handkerchief, and laid it beside the camera to +be carried up-stairs. There were books from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +old Colonel, an ivory photograph-frame exquisitely +carved from Lloyd. Dozens of little articles from +the girls at school, and remembrances from nearly +every friend in the Valley. There was more than +her arms could hold, and, bringing a large tray +from the dining-room, she made two trips up and +down stairs with it before her treasures were all +lodged safely in her room.</p> + +<p>Left alone for the first time that busy day, Lloyd +stood a moment longer peering out into the snowy +twilight, and then crossed the room to the table +where her gifts were spread out. There had never +been so many for her since her days of dolls and +dishes and woolly lambs. The opera-glasses like +Betty's were what she had wished for all year. +The purse her grandfather had slipped into the toe +of her stocking was the prettiest little affair of gray +suède and silver she had ever seen. She had +thought of a dozen delightful ways to spend the +gold eagle which it held.</p> + +<p>The book-rack which Betty had burnt for her, +with her initials on each end, was already nearly +filled with the books that different friends had sent +her. Rob's gift had been a book. So had Miss +Allison's and Mrs. MacIntyre's and the old family +doctor's. Malcolm had sent a great bunch of American<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +Beauties. She drew the vase toward her and +buried her face a moment in the delicious fragrance. +Then she nibbled a caramel from Keith's box of +candy. The rosebud sachet-bag which Gay made +lay in the box of handkerchiefs that good old Mom +Beck had given her.</p> + +<p>She patted the thick letter from Joyce that told +so much of interest about Ware's Wigwam. She +intended to have the water-colour sketch of Squaw's +Peak framed to take back to school with her. +Mary's fat little fingers had braided the Indian +basket which came with Joyce's picture, and Jack +himself had killed the wildcat, whose skin he sent +to make a rug for her room. Lloyd was proud of +that skin. As she stood smoothing the tawny fur, +the diamond on her finger flashed like fire, and she +stood turning her hand this way and that, that the +glow of the flames might fall on her new ring.</p> + +<p>It was a beautifully cut stone in an old-fashioned +setting, with the word "<i>Amanthis</i>" engraved inside; +but not for a fortune would Lloyd have had +the little circlet changed to a modern setting. For +just so had it been slipped on her grandmother's +finger at her fifteenth Christmas. She had worn it +until her daughter's fifteenth Christmas, and now +she, in turn, had given it to Lloyd. All day it had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +been a constant joy to her. Aside from the pleasure +of possessing such a beautiful ring, she had a feeling +that in its flashing heart was crystallized a +triple happiness,—the joy of three Christmas days: +hers, her mother's, and the beautiful young girl +with the June rose in her hair, who smiled down +at her from the portrait over the mantel.</p> + +<p>She smiled up at it now in the same confiding +way she had done as a child, saying, in a low tone: +"And when you played on the harp, it flashed on +yoah hand just as it does on mine." Pleased by the +fancy, she crossed the room and struck a few chords +on the harp, watching the firelight flash on the ring +as she did so.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Sing me the songs that to me were so deah,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Long, long ago, long ago!'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>There was a step in the hall, and the portières +were pushed aside as the old Colonel came in. She +did not stop, for she knew he loved the old song, +and that she was helping to bring back his happy +past, when he threw himself into a chair before +the fire, and sat looking up at Amanthis.</p> + +<p>When she had finished the song, she perched herself +on the arm of his chair, and began ruffling up +his white hair with the little hand which wore the +diamond.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, has it been a happy day for grandpa's +little Colonel?" he asked, fondly, passing his arm +around her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, grandfathah! Brim full and running +ovah with all sawts of lovely surprises. I'm mighty +glad I'm living. And the best of it is, although +the day is neahly ovah, the fun isn't. There's still +so much to come."</p> + +<p>"What kind of a performance is this one on the +programme for to-night?" he asked. "Betty said +I had to go the whole round, but I haven't been able +to gather a very good idea of what's expected of +me."</p> + +<p>"It's just a progressive Christmas pah'ty, grandfathah," +she explained, tweaking his ear as she +talked. "We couldn't agree about the celebration +this yeah. Judge Moore wanted us all to go to +Oaklea. Mrs. Walton thought they had the best +right on account of their guests, so we arranged +it for everybody to take a turn at entahtaining. At +five o'clock they're all to come heah for a Christmas +hunt. They ought to be coming now, for it's +neahly that time. At half-past six we'll have dinnah +at Oaklea. At half-past eight we'll go to The +Beeches and finish the evening with a general jollification. +Then we'll come home by moonlight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is a Christmas hunt?" asked the Colonel. +"You'll have to enlighten my ignorance."</p> + +<p>"It's a game that mothah and Betty thought of. +Betty has worked like a dawg to get the rhymes +ready. She scarcely took time to eat yestahday, and +she gave up going to the charade pah'ty that Miss +Allison gave for Gay in the aftahnoon. It's this +way. We've hidden little gifts all ovah the house, +from attic to cellah. When the guests come, each +one will be given a card with a rhyme on it, like +this."</p> + +<p>Slipping from the arm of the chair, she went +out into the hall a moment, and came back with +a Christmas stocking, trimmed with holly and hung +with tiny sleigh-bells. "Little Elise Walton is to +distribute the cards from this. Heah is a sample. +Miss Allison happens to be on top."</p> + +<p>Adjusting his eye-glasses the Colonel turned so +that the firelight shone on the card, and read aloud:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Seek where bygone summers<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Have dropped their roses fair.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A little Christmas package</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Is waiting for you there."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Now where would you look if that cah'd were +for you?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"In the conservatory?" he replied, inquiringly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is what Miss Allison will do, probably," +answered Lloyd, her cheeks dimpling at the thought. +"But aftah awhile she will remembah the old +dragon that mothah always keeps full of rose-leaves +just as Grandmothah Amanthis did. See?"</p> + +<p>She lifted the lid of a rare old cloisonné rose-jar +that had stood on the end of the mantel for a +longer time than Lloyd's memory could reach, and +took out a small box. Taking off the cover, she +disclosed what appeared to be a ripe cherry with a +bee clinging to its side.</p> + +<p>"Take the bee in yoah thumb and fingah and +pull," she ordered. "See? It's a cunning little +tape-measuah for her work-basket."</p> + +<p>A sound of sleigh-bells jingling rapidly toward +the house made her clap the lid on the box and drop +it hastily back into the rose-jar.</p> + +<p>"There they come!" she cried, "and the candles +haven't been lighted. Hurry, grandfathah! We +can't wait to call Walkah! Throw open the front +doah!"</p> + +<p>Flying to the hall closet for the long taper kept +for the purpose, she held it an instant toward the +blazing logs, and then darting around the room, +passed from one candelabrum to another, till every +waxen candle was tipped with its star of light. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +her scarlet dress and the holly berries, her cheeks +glowing and the taper held above her head as she +tiptoed to reach the highest one, she looked like +some radiant acolyte of Joy.</p> + +<p>Betty, rushing breathlessly down-stairs at the +sound of the sleigh-bells, paused an instant between +the portières at sight of her. "Oh, Lloyd!" she +cried, clasping her hands. "You've given me the +loveliest idea! I've only got it by the tail feathers +now, but I'll find words for it all some day." Then, +without waiting to explain, she ran out to the porch, +where, between the tall pillars, the old Colonel +waited with elaborate courtesy to receive the coming +guests.</p> + +<p>As the sleighs glided nearer, Betty looked back +through the door swung hospitably open to its widest, +and saw Lloyd hastily thrusting the taper back +into the closet.</p> + +<p>"She lighted it at the Christmas fire," thought +Betty, struggling with the tail feathers of her lovely +idea, in an effort to grasp all that Lloyd's act suggested. +"And red is the emblem of joy. It might +go this way: 'She touched the Christmas tapers +with the Yule log's heart of flame.' No, it ought +to start,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Lighting the candles of Christmas joy,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With a spark from the Yule log's fire."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>But there was no time for making poetry, with +so many voices calling "Merry Christmas," and +so many outstretched hands grasping hers. In another +instant the house seemed filled to overflowing, +and the dim old mirrors were flashing back from +every side one of the gayest scenes the hospitable +old mansion had ever known.</p> + +<p>The hunt began almost immediately. As soon +as Elise had emptied the stocking of its contents, +up-stairs and down-stairs and in my lady's chamber +went old and young at the bidding of the +rhymes.</p> + +<p>"I feel like a 'goosey gander,' sure enough," +said Allison presently. "For I've been all over +the house, and there's no place left to wander. +Where would you go if you had this card?"</p> + +<p>She thrust hers out toward Gay, who read:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Standing with reluctant feet<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where Brooks and Little Rivers meet."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Gay puzzled over it a moment, and then suggested +that she try the library. "I have," answered Allison. +"Keith found his package in there, behind +the picture of a Holland windmill and canal, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +there is nothing else in the room that suggests +water that I have been able to find."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote 'Little Rivers'?"</p> + +<p>Allison stood thinking a moment, and then cried +out: "Well, of course! Why didn't I think to +look among the books?" Flying down-stairs, she +began glancing along the library shelves until she +found the book she sought and Brooks's sermons +standing side by side. Between them was wedged +a thin package which proved to contain a picture +which she had long wanted, a photograph of Murillo's +painting of the Madonna.</p> + +<p>To Betty's surprise the Christmas stocking held +a card for her. She had supposed her part of the +game would be only making the rhymes and helping +to hide the gifts. There was no rhyme on her card, +simply the statement, "Some little men are keeping +it for you."</p> + +<p>Remembering Allison's experience, she ran up-stairs +to Lloyd's room, where in a low bookcase +were all the juvenile stories that her childhood had +held dear. A set of Miss Alcott's books stood first, +and, taking out the well-thumbed copy of "Little +Men," she shook it gently, fluttering the leaves, +and turning it upside down. But the volume held +nothing except a four-leaf clover, which Lloyd had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +left there to mark the place one summer day. Betty +turned away, as puzzled as any of the others whom +she had helped to mystify.</p> + +<p>Then she remembered two little wooden gnomes +carved on the Swiss match-box and ash-tray in the +Colonel's den. She dashed in there, but the gnomes +kept guard over nothing but a few burnt matches. +Nearly half an hour went by of bewildered wandering +from place to place, until she happened to +stray into Mr. Sherman's room. She stood by the +desk, letting her eyes glance slowly over its handsome +furnishings. Then, with a start of surprise +that she had not thought of it before, she bent over +a paper-weight. It was a crystal ball supported +by two miniature bronze figures. The tiny Grecian +athletes were evidently the little men who were +keeping something for her, for the toy suit-case +standing between them bore a tag on which was +printed her initials.</p> + +<p>The suit-case was not more than two inches long. +She supposed it contained bonbons. One of the +girls had used a dozen like them for place cards +at a farewell luncheon just before they went away +to school. It did not open at the first pull, and +when, at the second, it came forcibly apart, there +was no shower of pink and white candies, as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +had expected. Only a bit of folded paper fell out. +Smoothing it on the desk, Betty read:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Dear little girl, you have helped all the rest<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To a happy time with your patient hands.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Now fly for a week to the Cuckoo's Nest,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">With godmother's love, for she understands."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Then Betty was glad that she was all alone in +the room when she found the suit-case, for the tears +began to brim up into her eyes and spill over on +to the paper that had a crisp new greenback pinned +to it. The tears were all happy ones, but she hardly +knew what they were for. Whether she was happier +because her heart's desire was granted, and +she could spend her vacation with Davy, or whether +it was because of that last line, "With godmother's +love, <i>for she understands</i>."</p> + +<p>"Lloyd must have told her what I said that day +on the train," she thought. It was the crowning +happiness of the day for Betty. She was singing +under her breath when she danced out into the hall +to join the others.</p> + +<p>Some of the articles were so cleverly hidden that +she had to give an occasional hint to the bewildered +seekers. In the seats of chairs, over the deer's antlers +in the hall, high up in the candelabra, strapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +inside of umbrellas, poked into glove fingers, all +of them were in unexpected places. Yet the directions +of the verses seemed so plain when once understood +that the hunters laughed at their own stupidity.</p> + +<p>Even Judge Moore and the old Colonel were +swept into the game, and Mrs. MacIntyre's silvery +hair bent just as eagerly as Elise's dark curls over +each suspected spot and out-of-the-way corner until +she found the volume of essays that had been hidden +for her.</p> + +<p>By quarter-past six every one's search had been +successful except Rob's. "It would take a Christopher +Columbus to find this place," he said, scowling +at his verse. "And I'd be willing to bet anything +that it isn't the bank that Shakespeare had +in mind. Give me a hint, Lloyd." He held out +the card:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I know a bank where the wild thyme grows.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Unseen it lies, unsung by bard.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Something keeps watch there, no man knows,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And over your gift it's standing guard."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"I haven't the faintest idea what it is," she said. +"Betty wrote so many of them yestahday aftahnoon +while I was at the pah'ty, and she wouldn't +tell me this one. She said she thought you'd suahly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +guess it, but she didn't want you to have a hint +from any one. Come ovah to-morrow, and we'll +find it if we have to turn the house upside down."</p> + +<p>The sleighs had made one trip to Oaklea and +returned for another load, when Rob finally gave +up the search. Lloyd and Gay climbed into the +same seat, and, as they cuddled down among the +warm robes, Gay caught Lloyd's hand in an impetuous +squeeze.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm having such a good time!" she exclaimed. +"I've been in a dizzy whirl ever since +five o'clock this morning. I never had a sleigh-ride +before to-day. I don't wonder that Betty calls +this the House Beautiful. Look back at it now. +It's fairy-land!" A light was streaming from every +window, and the snow sparkled like diamonds in +the moonlight.</p> + +<p>The drive to Oaklea was so short that the Judge +and Mrs. Moore were welcoming them at the door +before Gay had fairly begun her account of the +day's happening. Dinner was announced almost +immediately, and she was ushered into one of the +largest dining-rooms she had ever seen, and seated +at the long table. Such a large Christmas tree +formed the centrepiece that she could catch only +an occasional glimpse through its branches of Lloyd,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +seated on the other side between Malcolm and John +Baylor.</p> + +<p>Gay was between Ranald and Rob. While she +kept up a lively chatter, first with one and then the +other, a sentence floating across the table now and +then made her long to hear what was being said +on the other side of the Christmas tree. She heard +Malcolm say, in a surprised tone: "Maud Minor! +No, indeed, I didn't! Why, I scarcely mentioned +you. Don't you believe—"</p> + +<p>A general laugh at one of the old Colonel's stories +drowned the rest of the sentence, and left Gay +wondering which one of Maud's many tales was not +to be believed.</p> + +<p>"I'll ask her after dinner," thought Gay. But +it was a long time till all the courses that followed +the turkey gave way in slow succession to plum +pudding and the trifles on the Christmas tree. Then +Gay had no opportunity to ask her question, for +Malcolm still stayed by Lloyd's side when the company +broke up into little groups in the hall and the +adjoining parlours.</p> + +<p>"The children are growing up, Jack," said the +old Judge, laying his hand on Mr. Sherman's shoulder, +as several couples passed on their way to the +music-room. "There's Rob, now, the young rascal,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +taller than his father; and it seems only yesterday +that he was riding pickaback on my shoulders, and +tooting his first Christmas trumpet in my ears. +And young MacIntyre there is nearly a full-fledged +man. He'll soon be eighteen, he tells me. Why, +at his age—"</p> + +<p>The Judge rambled off into a series of reminiscences +which would have been very entertaining +to the younger man had his eyes not been following +Lloyd. He did not like to think that she was growing +up. He wanted to keep her a child. In his +fond eyes she was always beautiful, but he had never +seen her look as well as she did to-night. The scarlet +dress and the holly berries gave her unusual +colour. He fancied that there was a deeper flush +on her face when Malcolm leaned over her chair +to say something to her. Then he told himself that +it was only fancy. Looking up, Lloyd caught sight +of her father in the doorway, and flashed him a +smile so open and reassuring that he turned away, +thinking, "My honest little Hildegarde! She +asked for her yardstick, and I can surely trust her +to use it as she promised."</p> + +<p>Presently Malcolm, hunting through his pockets +for a programme he was talking about, took out +a bunch of letters. As he hastily turned them over,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +several unmounted photographs fluttered out and +fell at Lloyd's feet. An amused smile dimpled her +mouth as her hasty glance showed her that they +were all of the same girl,—evidently kodak shots +he had taken himself. Probably that was the girl +and these were the letters that Keith had teased +him about at the picnic.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke, and he reddened uncomfortably +at her amused smile, as he put them back into his +pocket. At that moment, Rob turned toward them, +holding his new watch in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I have just been showing Ranald the present +Daddy gave me," he said to Lloyd. "It reminded +me that I hadn't told you,—I've put that same old +four-leaf clover into the back of this watch that +I had in my silver one. I wouldn't lose my luck +by losing your hoodoo charm for anything in the +world."</p> + +<p>At the sight of the clover Lloyd blushed violently. +But it was not the little dried leaf that deepened +the quick colour in her cheeks. It was the thought +of the last time he had shown it to her, and the +scene it recalled at the churchyard stile, when Malcolm +had begged for the tip of a curl to carry with +him always as a talisman; as a token that he was +really her knight, as he had been in the princess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +play, and that he would come to her on some glad +morrow.</p> + +<p>"He'll have a pocket full of such talismans by +the time he's through college," she thought, recalling +the kodak pictures she had just seen. "I'm +<i>mighty</i> glad that I didn't give him one."</p> + +<p>Over at The Beeches, Elise and her little friends +had arranged to give a Christmas play, so promptly +at the hour agreed upon the party "progressed" +in Mrs. Walton's wake. There they found the +third royal welcome, and the gayest of entertainments. +It had been an exciting day for all of them, +and, as Kitty expressed it, they were all wound +up like alarm-clocks. They would go off pretty soon +with a br-r-r and a bang, and then run down.</p> + +<p>The play passed off without a hitch in the performance, +and ended in a blaze of spangles and red +light, when the fairy queen, trailing off the stage, +went through the audience showering on her guests +Christmas roses, supposed to have been called to +life by her magic wand, and distributed as souvenirs +of her skill.</p> + +<p>Then somebody came up to Gay with her violin. +With Allison to play her accompaniments, she chose +her sweetest pieces, and threw her whole soul into +the rendering of them. She was so grateful to these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +dear people who had taken her in like one of themselves, +and given her such a happy, happy holiday-time +that she did her best, and Gay's best on the +violin was a treat even to the musical critics in the +company. Kitty was so proud of her she could +not help expressing her pleasure aloud, much to +Gay's embarrassment. To hide her confusion, she +started a merry jig tune, so rollicking and irresistible +that hands and feet all through the rooms began +to pat the time. Keith seized his Aunt Allison +around the waist and waltzed her out into the floor.</p> + +<p>"Come on, everybody!" he cried.</p> + +<p>Lloyd was standing in the doorway, talking to +Doctor Shelby, the white-haired physician of the +village, one of her oldest and dearest friends.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Miss Holly-berry," he said. "If I +wasn't such a stiff old graybeard, I'd be at it myself. +There's Ranald wanting to ask you."</p> + +<p>Lloyd waltzed off with Ranald, as light on her +feet as a bit of thistle-down, and the old doctor's +eyes followed her fondly.</p> + +<p>"She's like Amanthis," he said to himself. +"And she will grow more like her as the years go +by, so spirited and high-strung. But they'll have +to watch her, or she'll wear herself out."</p> + +<p>Presently he missed the flash of the scarlet dress,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +in and out among the others, and he did not see it +again until the music had stopped and the revel was +ending with the chimes, rung softly on the Bells +of Luzon. As he stepped back to allow several +guests to pass him on the way up to the dressing-room, +he caught sight of Lloyd in an alcove in the +back hall. She was attempting to draw a glass of +ice-water from the cooler. Her hands shook, and +her face was so pale that it startled him. "What's +the matter, child?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she answered, trying to force a little +laugh. "It's just that I felt for a minute as if I +might faint. I nevah did, you know. I reckon it's +as Kitty said. We've been wound up all day, and +we've run so hah'd we've about run down, and we +have to stop whethah we want to or not."</p> + +<p>He looked at her keenly and began counting her +pulse. "You are not to get wound up this way +any more this winter, young lady," he said, sternly. +"Go straight home and go to bed, and stay there +until day after to-morrow. The rest cure is what +you need."</p> + +<p>"And miss Katie Mallard's pah'ty?" she cried. +"Why, I couldn't do it even for you, you bad old +ogah."</p> + +<p>She made a saucy mouth at him, and then, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +her most winning smile, held out her hand to say +good night, for the guests were beginning to take +their departure. "<i>Please</i>, Mistah <i>My</i>-Doctah,"—it +was the pet name she had given him years ago +when she used to ride on his shoulder,—"please +don't go to putting any notions into Papa Jack's +head or mothah's. I'm just ti'ahed. That's all. +I'll be all right in the mawning."</p> + +<p>"Come, Lloyd," called Mrs. Sherman. "We're +ready to start now." She saw with a sigh of relief +that her mother was bringing her coat toward her, +so she would not have to climb the stairs for it. +She was tired, dreadfully tired, she admitted to +herself. But it had been such a happy day it was +worth the fatigue.</p> + +<p>As she drove homeward in the sleigh, she slipped +her hand out of her muff, and turned it in the moonlight +to watch the sparkle of the new ring. She +wondered if the two girls who had worn it in turn +before her had had half as happy a fifteenth Christmas +as she.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>THE DUNGEON OF DISAPPOINTMENT</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was nearly noon when Lloyd wakened next +morning. Her head ached, and she wondered dully +how anybody could feel lively enough to sing as +Aunt Cindy was doing, somewhere back in the +servants' quarters. The sound of a squeaking +wheelbarrow had wakened her. Alec was trundling +it around the house, with the parrot perched on it. +The parrot loved to ride, and its silly laugh at every +jolt of the squeaking barrow usually amused Lloyd, +but to-day its harsh chatter annoyed her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, deah!" she groaned, sitting up in bed and +yawning. "I feel as if I could sleep for a week. +I wouldn't get up at all if it wasn't for Katie Mallard's +pah'ty. I hate this day-aftah-Christmas feeling, +as if the bottom had dropped out of everything."</p> + +<p>She dressed slowly and went down-stairs. +"Where's mothah, Mom Beck?" she asked, pausing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +in the dining-room door. The old coloured +woman was arranging flowers for the lunch-table.</p> + +<p>"She's done gone ovah to Rollington, honey, +with the old Cun'l. Walkah's mothah is sick, and +sent for 'em. I'm lookin' for 'em to come home +any minute now. Come right along in, honey. +I've kep' yoah breakfus' good and hot."</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything to eat. I'm not hungry +now. I'd rathah wait till lunch. Where's Betty, +Mom Beck?"</p> + +<p>"Now listen to that!" ejaculated the old woman, +sharply. "Don't you remembah? She went off +on the early train this mawning to that place you +all calls the Cuckoo's Nest. I packed her satchel +befoah daylight."</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten she was going," exclaimed +Lloyd, turning to the window with a discontented +expression, which only the snowbirds on the lawn +could see. She had come down-stairs expecting to +talk over all the happenings of the previous day +with Betty, and to find her gone gave her a vague +sense of injury. She knew the feeling was unreasonable, +but she could not shake it off.</p> + +<p>The flash of the new ring gave her a momentary +pleasure, but she was in a mood that nothing could +please her long. When she strolled into the drawing-room,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +everything was in spotless order, and +so quiet that the stillness was oppressive. Even +the fire burned with a steady, noiseless glow, without +the usual crackle, and the ashes fell on the +hearth with velvety softness.</p> + +<p>Some of her new books lay on a side table. She +picked them up and glanced through them, catching +at a paragraph here and there. But one after +another she laid them down. She was not in a +mood for reading. Then she took a candied date +from the bonbon dish, but it seemed to lack its +usual flavour. After nibbling each end, she threw +it into the fire. Slipping her new opera-glass from +its case, she went to the window and turned the +lens on the distant entrance gate. The road in each +direction seemed deserted. So she put the glass +back in its case, and, after strolling restlessly around +the room, walked over to the harp and struck a +few chords.</p> + +<p>"It's all out of tune!" she exclaimed, fretfully, +thrumming the faulty string with impatient fingers. +"Everything seems out of tune this mawning!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, the string broke with a sudden +harsh twang that made her jump. She was so +startled that the tears came to her eyes, and so nervous +that she flung herself face downward on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +pillows of the long-Persian divan, and began sobbing +hysterically. The strain of the last few weeks +had been too much for her. Miss Gilmer's prophecy +had come true. The ice had given away under +the extra weight put upon it.</p> + +<p>She was sobbing so hard that she did not hear +the sound of carriage wheels rolling softly up the +avenue through the snow, and when the front door +banged shut she started again, and began trembling +as she had done when the harp-string broke. +She was crying convulsively now, so hard that she +could not stop, although she clenched her fists and +bit her lips in a strong effort to regain self-control.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman, her face all aglow from the cold +drive, and looking almost girlishly fair in her big +hat with the plumes, and her dark furs, hurried in +to the fire. The Colonel, throwing back his scarlet +lined cape, pushed aside the portière for her to enter. +He was the first to catch sight of the shaking form +on the divan.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lloyd, child, what's the matter?" he +demanded, anxiously. "What's the matter with +grandpa's little girl?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman, with a frightened expression, hurried +to her, and, bending over her, tried to get a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +glimpse of the tear-swollen face buried so persistently +in the cushions.</p> + +<p>"Nothing's happened! No, I'm not sick," came +in smothered tones from the depths of the pillows. +"It's j-just crying itself, and I—I—I c-can't +stop-p-p!"</p> + +<p>A long shiver passed over her, and Mrs. Sherman, +stroking her forehead with a soothing hand, +waited for her to grow quiet before plying her +with questions. But the old Colonel paced impatiently +back and forth.</p> + +<p>"The child <i>must</i> be sick," he declared. "She'll +be coming down with a fever or something if we +don't take vigorous measures to prevent it. I shall +telephone for Dick Shelby this minute."</p> + +<p>He started toward the hall, but a wild wail from +Lloyd stopped him.</p> + +<p>"I won't have the doctah! I'm not sick, and +you sha'n't send for him! I j-just cried because +the harp-string b-broke so suddenly that it s-scared +me!"</p> + +<p>The Colonel paused and looked at her in amazement. +Not since the time when she, a five-year-old +child, had flung a handful of mud over his white +clothes had she spoken to him in such a defiant tone. +He answered soothingly, as if she were still that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +little child, to be coaxed into good behaviour. "Oh, +yes, you won't mind the doctor's coming if grandpa +wants him to. He'll keep you from getting down +sick, and spoiling all the rest of your vacation. I'll +just ask him to step up and look at you."</p> + +<p>"No, don't!" demanded Lloyd, as he started +again toward the hall. "No, you sha'n't!" she insisted, +springing up and stamping her foot. "I +won't have the old doctah, and I won't take any +of his nasty old medicine! He'll make me stay +home from Katie's pah'ty this aftahnoon and from +the matinée to-morrow—and there's nothing the +mattah, only I'm cross and nervous, and the moah +you bothah me the hah'dah it is to stop crying!"</p> + +<p>Then ashamed of her petulant outburst, she threw +her arms around his neck, and sobbed on his shoulder. +In the end she had her own way, for the glass +of hot milk which her mother sent for, as soon +as she found Lloyd had eaten no breakfast, soothed +her overstrung nerves. A brisk walk to the post-office +in the bracing December air gave her an appetite +for luncheon. Then she slept again until time +to dress for Katie's party, so that when the old +Colonel watched her start off, she looked so bright +and was in such buoyant spirits that he wondered +vaguely if her crying spell could have been the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +remnant of some childish tantrum instead of the +forerunner of an illness.</p> + +<p>He banished the thought instantly from his loyal +old heart, ashamed of having applied such a word +as tantrum to anything Lloyd might choose to do. +Of course she had felt ill, he told himself. So +wretched that she hadn't known what she was saying +when she stormed at him so angrily. He resolved +to watch her closely, and take matters in his +own hands if she showed any more alarming symptoms.</p> + +<p>There was a matinée next day in Louisville, to +which Mrs. Sherman took all the girls in the neighbourhood. +That was the end of the Christmas +gaieties for Lloyd. Doctor Shelby was at Locust +on her return. He came out of the old Colonel's +den, where he had been sitting for several hours, +deep in a game of chess, and found her shivering +in front of the fire with a nervous chill, sobbing +hysterically.</p> + +<p>She stormed at him almost as she had done at +her grandfather, protesting that she was only tired +and nervous, and that she would be all right as soon +as she had had her cry out. But she submitted +meekly when he ordered her mother to put her to +bed. The old doctor had always indulged her, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +there was a sternness in his manner now that made +her obey him.</p> + +<p>He called to see her the next day, and the next. +But his visits did not seem like professional ones. +There was nothing said about medicine or symptoms. +He only asked her about school and the good +times she had been having, and the extra studying +she had been doing. Then he sat and joked and +talked with her and her mother, as had been his +habit ever since Lloyd could remember. The third +afternoon she was down in the drawing-room when +he came.</p> + +<p>"We'll soon be having Miss Holly-berry back +again," he said, playfully pinching her pale cheek.</p> + +<p>"And without taking any nasty old medicine," +she answered. "I don't mind doctahs when they +can cure people without giving them pills and powdahs."</p> + +<p>The Colonel looked up sharply. "What's that?" +he asked. "Haven't you been giving her anything, +Dick? It seems to me the child would get along +faster if she had a good tonic."</p> + +<p>"I am going to prescribe one this morning," the +doctor answered. "That's what I came up for." +He laughed at the look of disgust on Lloyd's +face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It isn't bad," he assured her, with an indulgent +smile. "Why, I know dozens of girls who would +say that the tonic I am going to prescribe is the +most agreeable that could be given. I've even had +them beg for it. This is it, simply to lengthen your +Christmas vacation. Didn't I hear a certain young +lady wishing the other night that she could stretch +hers out indefinitely?"</p> + +<p>Lloyd's dimples deepened. "How much longah +will you make it? A week? If I stay out much +longah than that, it will be such hah'd work to +catch up with my classes that the game won't be +worth the candle."</p> + +<p>"But I would make it so long that there would +be no necessity of having to catch up, as you call +it. You could simply make a fresh start in a new +class."</p> + +<p>Lloyd looked up in alarm. "When?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Um—well, next fall, let us say," he answered, +deliberately. "Yes, surely by that time you'll be +well and sound as a new dollar."</p> + +<p>"Next fall!" she gasped, her face growing white +and her eyes strangely big and dark. "You don't +mean—you <i>couldn't</i> mean that I must leave +school."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, that's exactly what I mean. You are overtaxing +yourself and must stop—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't!" interrupted Lloyd, speaking very +fast. "I <i>won't!</i> It's cruel to ask it when I've +worked so hard to keep from falling behind Betty +and the girls. Oh, you don't <i>know</i> what it means +to me!"</p> + +<p>The old doctor looked up in amazement at this +unexpected outburst.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, slowly, after a moment's +silence. "I don't suppose I do. I had no idea it +would be a disappointment to you. I would gladly +save you from it if I could. But listen to me, my +little girl, and try to be reasonable. You are on the +verge of a nervous breakdown. Nothing can mean +as much to you as your health. What will keeping +up with the other girls amount to if the strain and +the overtaxing makes an invalid of you for life, perhaps?</p> + +<p>"Mind you, I am not saying that the work itself +is too great a tax. Madam Chartley's is one of the +best regulated schools I have ever inquired into. +Ordinarily a girl ought to be able to take the course +with perfect ease. But you see that little spell of +la grippe left you weak and unfit for any extra +strain, and, instead of easing up a bit, you went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +on piling on all that extra load of lessons and Christmas +preparations and vacation dissipations. It was +like trying to walk on a broken foot. The more +you tried, the worse it got. The mischief is done +now, and there is no remedy but to stop short off."</p> + +<p>Lloyd sat very still for a moment, staring out +of the window in a dazed, unseeing way, as if not +fully understanding all he said. Then she turned +with a piteous appeal in her face to Mrs. Sherman.</p> + +<p>"Mothah, it isn't so, is it? I won't have to give +up school now! You wouldn't make me, would +you, when you know how I love it? Oh, it will +neahly <i>kill</i> me if you do! Please say no, mothah! +<i>Please!</i>"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman's eyes were full of tears. "My +poor little girl," she exclaimed as Lloyd threw herself +into her arms. "I'm afraid we must do as +the doctor says. He would not ask such a sacrifice +if it were not necessary. You know how dearly +he has always loved you."</p> + +<p>Without waiting to hear any more, Lloyd sprang +up and ran out of the room. Rushing up-stairs, +she bolted her door behind her, and threw herself +across the bed.</p> + +<p>"It is the first great disappointment she has ever +had in her life," said her mother, looking after her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +with a troubled face. "Couldn't you make the +sentence a little easier, doctor? Couldn't she go +back and take one study, just to be with the girls?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "No, Elizabeth. She is too +ambitious and high-strung for that. One study +wouldn't satisfy her. She'd chafe at not being able +to keep up in everything. She has nothing serious +the matter with her now, but it would not take long +to make a wreck of her health at the gait she has +been going. There must be no more parties, no +more regular school work, and even no more music +lessons this winter. She must have the simplest +kind of a life. Keep her out-of-doors all you can. +A little prevention now will be worth pounds of +cure after awhile."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you are right, Dick," said the old +Colonel, huskily, "but I swear I'd give the only +arm the Yankees left me to save her from this disappointment."</p> + +<p>Lying across the bed up-stairs, Lloyd cried and +sobbed until she was exhausted. The handkerchief +clutched in her hand in a damp little ball had wiped +away the bitterest tears she had ever shed. In her +inmost heart she knew that the doctor was right. +It had been weeks since she had felt strong and well. +She remembered the way she had lagged behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +at the picnic, and what an effort it had been to talk +and make herself agreeable lately. Recalling the +last few weeks, it seemed to her that she had been +in tears half the time. She admitted to herself +that she would rather be dead than to be an invalid +for life like her great-aunt Jane. To sit always in +a darkened room that smelled of camphor, and to +talk in a weak, complaining voice that made everybody +tired. Of course if there was danger of her +growing to be like <i>her</i>, she would rather leave school +than run such a risk. But why, oh, <i>why</i> was she +forced to make such a choice? The other girls +didn't have to. She had done no more than they +to bring about such a state of affairs.</p> + +<p>They could go back to dear old Warwick Hall, +but she would have to stay behind. And she would +always be behind, for, even if she went back with +them another year, it couldn't be the same. They +would have done so much in the meantime,—gone +on so far ahead, made new friends and found new +interests, and she would have to drop back in the +class below, and never, never stand on the same +footing with them again. It was so hard, so cruel, +that she should have to face a blighted life at only +fifteen.</p> + +<p>She unlocked the door presently at her mother's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +knock, but she didn't want to be comforted. Nothing +anybody could say could change things, she +sobbed, or make the disappointment any easier to +bear. So Mrs. Sherman wisely withdrew, and left +her to fight it out alone.</p> + +<p>The next time she peeped into the room, Lloyd +was asleep, worn out with the violence of her grief, +so she tiptoed down-stairs, leaving the door ajar +behind her. The Colonel was pacing up and down +the library.</p> + +<p>"I declare I can't think of anything but that +child's disappointment!" he exclaimed, as she came +in. "I can't read! I can't settle down to anything. +I have been trying to think of some pleasure we +could give her to make up for it in a way. A winter +in Florida, maybe. Poor baby! if I could only bear +it for her, how glad I would be to do it!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman picked up a bit of needlework from +the table where she had left it, and, sitting down +by the window, began to hemstitch.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, papa," she said, slowly, "but +I'm beginning to fear that we have done too much +of that for Lloyd; smoothed the difficulties out of +her way too much; made things too easy. We've +fairly held our arms around her to shield her not +only from harmful things, but from even trifling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +unpleasantness. Maybe if she had had to face the +smaller disappointments that most children have +to bear, the greater ones would not seem so overwhelming. +She could have met this more bravely."</p> + +<p>The Colonel sniffed impatiently. "All foolishness, +Elizabeth! All foolishness! That may be the +case with ordinary children, but not with such a +sweet, unspoiled nature as Lloyd's."</p> + +<p>It was nearly dark when Lloyd wakened. She +heard Kitty's voice down in the hall, asking to see +her, and Gay's exclamation of surprise and regret +at something her mother said in a low voice. She +knew that she was telling them the doctor's decision. +Then Mom Beck tapped at the door to ask if she +would see the girls awhile, but she sent her away +with a mournful shake of the head. She was too +miserable even to speak.</p> + +<p>The low murmur of voices went on for some +time. It grew loud enough for her to distinguish +the words when the girls came out into the hall +again to take their departure. Lloyd raised herself +on her elbow to listen. Kitty was telling something +that had happened that afternoon at the candy-pull +from which they were just returning. A wan smile +flitted across Lloyd's face, in sympathy with the +merry laugh that floated up the stairs. But it faded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +the next instant as she whispered, bitterly: "That's +the way it will always be. They will go on having +good times without me, and they'll get so they'll +nevah even miss me. I'll be left out of everything. +There's nothing left to look forward to any moah. +Oh, it's all so dah'k and gloomy—I know now how +Ederyn felt, for I'm just like he was, walled up in +a dreadful Dungeon of Disappointment."</p> + +<p>The fancy pleased her so that she went on making +herself miserable with it long after the door closed +behind Kitty and Gay. Over and over she pictured +Warwick Hall, which just then seemed the most +desirable place in all the world. She could see the +shining river, as she had watched it so many times +from her window, flowing past the stately terraces +between its willow-fringed banks. She could hear +the breezy summons of the hunter's horn, calling +the girls to rambles over the wooded hills or through +the quaint old garden. She could see the sun streaming +into the south windows of the English room, +with the class gathered around Miss Chilton, eager +and interested. All the dear, delightful round of +inspiring work and play would go on day after day +for the others, but it would go on without her. +Henceforth she would be left out of everything +pleasant and worth while.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>She would not go down to dinner. She could +not take such a puffed, tear-swollen face to the +table to make everybody else unhappy, and she +couldn't throw off her despondent mood. Maybe +in a few days, she thought, she might be able to hide +her feelings sufficiently to appear in public, but it +would always be with a secret sorrow gnawing at +her heart. Just now she shrank from sympathy, +and she didn't want any one to cheer her up. It +did not seem possible that she could ever smile +again, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to.</p> + +<p>Mom Beck brought up the daintiest of dinners +on a tray, but carried it back almost untasted. As +soon as she was gone, Lloyd undressed and crept +into bed.</p> + +<p>Sleep was far from her, however, and she lay +with her eyes wide open. The room was full of soft +shadows and the flicker of firelight on the furniture. +She could think of only one thing, and she brooded +over that until it seemed to her feverish, disordered +fancy that her disappointment was the greatest that +any one had ever been forced to bear.</p> + +<p>"Why couldn't it have happened to some girl +who didn't care?" she thought, bitterly. "Some girl +like Maud Minor, who doesn't like school, anyhow. +It doesn't seem fair when I've tried my best to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +do exactly right, to leave a road of the loving hah't +in everybody's memory, to keep the tryst—"</p> + +<p>That thought brought a fresh reason for grief. +There was the string of pearls. Now she could +not finish her little white rosary. The fire flared up +and shone brilliantly for a few moments, lighting +a group of pictures over her bed. They were the +photographs she had taken in Arizona. There was +Ware's Wigwam. The firelight was not bright +enough to enable her to read the lines Joyce had +written under it, but she knew the inscription was +the Ware family's motto, taken from the "Vicar +of Wakefield": "Let us be inflexible, and fortune +will at last change in our favour." A shadow of +a smile actually came to her lips as she remembered +Mary Ware gravely explaining it.</p> + +<p>"Why, even Norman knows that if you'll swallow +your sobs and <i>stiffen</i> when you bump your +head or anything, it doesn't hurt half as bad as +if you just let loose and howl."</p> + +<p>And there was the photograph of old Camelback +Mountain, bringing back the story of Shapur, left +helpless on the sands of the Desert of Waiting, +while the caravan passed on without him to the City +of his Desire. She remembered that when she hung +it over her bed she had thought, "If ever <i>I</i> come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +to such a place, this will help me to bear it patiently."</p> + +<p>Then she thought of Joyce, how bravely and uncomplainingly +she had met her disappointment. +Not only had she left school and given up her +ambition to be an artist, but she had had to give +up the old home she loved, all her friends, and +everything that made her girlhood bright, to go +out into the lonely desert and work like a squaw.</p> + +<p>The thought of Joyce brought back all the lessons +she had learned in the School of the Bees. +But she sighed presently: "Oh, deah, all those +things sounded so nice and comforting when they +seemed meant for othah people. They don't seem +so comforting now that I'm in trouble myself. It's +like the poultice Aunt Cindy made for Walkah's +toothache. She was disgusted because he didn't +stop complaining right away, and said it ought to +have cured him if it didn't. But it wasn't such a +powahful remedy when she had the toothache herself. +She grumbled moah than Walkah. It's all +well enough to say that I'll seal up my troubles as +the bees seal up the things that get into the cells +to spoil their honey, but now the time is heah, I +simply can't!"</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, what the School of the Bees taught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +did help. So did the sight of the patient old Camelback +Mountain, that had inspired the legend of +Shapur. And more than all the little group in front +of the Wigwam helped, as she remembered how +bravely they had met their troubles.</p> + +<p>One by one her happy Arizona days came back +to her. After all, it was something to have lived +fifteen beautiful years untouched by trouble. She +was thankful for that much, even if the future held +nothing more for her. If she couldn't be happy, +she could at least take Mary's advice and "not let +loose and howl" about it any more. If she couldn't +be bright and cheerful, she could "swallow her +sobs and stiffen." With the resolution to try Mary's +remedy for her woes in the morning, she lay drowsily +watching the firelight flicker across the picture +of the Wigwam.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE ATTIC</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the sun had been shining next morning, it +would have been easier for Lloyd to keep her resolution, +and face the family bravely at breakfast. +But the rain was pouring against the windows; +a slow, monotonous rain that ran in little rivers +over the lawn, melting the snow, and turning the +white landscape into a dreary scene of mud and +bare branches.</p> + +<p>Twice on the way down-stairs she paused, thinking +that she could not possibly sit through the meal +without crying, and that it would be better to go +back and breakfast alone in her room than to be +a damper on the spirits of the family. Even so +slight a thing as the tone of sympathy in her grandfather's +"good morning" made the tears spring +to her eyes, but she winked them back, and answered +almost cheerfully his question as to how she felt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just like the weathah, grandfathah. All +gray and drippy; but I'll clean up aftah awhile."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<p>She could not smile as she said it, but the effort +she made to be cheerful made the next attempt easier, +and presently she acknowledged to herself that +Mary was right. It did help, to swallow one's sobs.</p> + +<p>After breakfast she stood at the window, watching +her father drive away to the station in the rain. +As the carriage disappeared and there was nothing +more to watch, she wondered dully how she could +spend the long morning.</p> + +<p>"Some one wants you at the telephone, Lloyd," +called the Colonel, on his way to his den.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! I hope it is Kitty," she exclaimed, +anticipating a long visit over the wire.</p> + +<p>But it was Malcolm MacIntyre who had rung +her up, to bid her good-bye. He and Keith were +about to start home. They had intended to go up +to Locust, he told her, for a short call before train +time, but it was raining too hard. Would she please +make their adieus to her mother and the rest of the +family. He had heard that she was not going back +to school. Was it true? She was in luck. No? +She was disappointed? Well, that was too bad. +He was awfully sorry. But she mustn't worry over +missing a few months of school. It wouldn't +amount to much in the long run. For his part, +if he were a girl and didn't have to fit himself for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +a profession, he would be glad to have such a postscript +added to his Christmas vacation. He'd noticed +that usually the postscript to a girl's letter +had more in it than the letter itself. Possibly it +would be that way with her vacation. He hoped so.</p> + +<p>Although it was in the most cordial tone that +he expressed his regret at her disappointment, and +bade Princess Winsome good-bye until the "good +old summer-time," it was with a vague feeling of +disappointment that Lloyd hung up the receiver +and turned away from the telephone.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't undahstand at all!" she thought. +"He hasn't the faintest idea how much it means +to me to give up school. He thinks that, because +I'm a girl, I haven't any ambition, and that it doesn't +hurt me as it would him. Maybe it wouldn't have +sounded quite the same if I could have seen him +say it, but ovah the telephone, somehow—although +he was mighty nice and polite—it sounded sawt +of patronizing."</p> + +<p>She went into the library to deliver Malcolm's +farewell messages to her mother. "He seems so +much moah grown up this time than he evah has +befoah," she added. "I don't like him half as much +that way as the way he used to be."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman was busy about the house all morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +so Lloyd found entertainment following her +from room to room, as she inspected the linen closet, +superintended the weekly cleaning of the pantry, +and rearranged some of the library shelves to make +room for the Christmas books. But in the afternoon +she had a number of letters to write, acknowledging +the gifts which had been sent her by distant +friends, and Lloyd was left to her own amusement.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 264px;"> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="264" height="500" alt=""ONE OF THE BOYS HAD DARED HIM TO CARRY IT."" title=""ONE OF THE BOYS HAD DARED HIM TO CARRY IT."" /> +<span class="caption">"ONE OF THE BOYS HAD DARED HIM TO CARRY IT."</span> +</div> + +<p>The doctor did not want her to read long at a +time. The rain was pouring too hard for her to +venture out-of-doors, and about the middle of the +afternoon the silence and loneliness of the big house +seemed more than she could endure.</p> + +<p>"I could scream, I'm so nervous and ti'ahed of +being by myself," she exclaimed. "If just a piece +of a day is so hah'd to drag through as this has +been, how can I stand all the rest of the wintah?"</p> + +<p>She was counting up the weeks ahead of her on +the big library calendar, when, through the window, +she caught sight of Rob coming toward the house. +The rain was running in streams from the bottom +of his mackintosh, and from a huge umbrella that +spread over him like a tent. It was an enormous +advertising umbrella, taken from one of the delivery +wagons at the store. One of the boys had +dared him to carry it. "<i>Groceries, Dry Goods,</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +<i>Boots and</i>" appeared in black letters on the yellow +side turned toward Lloyd. "<i>Shoes. Jayne's Emporium</i>," +she called, supplying the rest of the familiar +advertisement from memory.</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you doing with that wagon-top +ovah you?" she asked from the front door, +where she stood watching his approach. He was +striding along whistling as cheerily as if it were +a midsummer day. He looked up and smiled in +response to her call, and twirled the umbrella till +the rain-drops flew in every direction in a fine spray. +Lloyd felt as if the sun had suddenly come out from +behind the clouds.</p> + +<p>"I've come to finish my Christmas hunt," he said, +as he stepped up on the porch and shook himself +like a great water-spaniel.</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Lloyd, "I intended to ask Betty +befoah she went away where she had hidden yoah +present, and she left next mawning so early that +I was still asleep. Maybe mothah knows."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Sherman, busy with her letters, shook +her head. "I haven't the faintest idea," she answered. +"But I remember she said something +about Rob's being the hardest one of all to find, +so you'll probably be kept busy the rest of the day. +Don't you children bother either Mom Beck or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +Cindy to help you hunt," she called after them. +"They have all they can attend to to-day."</p> + +<p>"Let's see that verse again, Rob," said Lloyd, as +they went out of the library into the drawing-room. +He fumbled in several pockets and finally produced +the card.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I know a bank where the wild thyme grows.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Unseen it lies, unsung by bard.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Something keeps watch there, no man knows,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And over your gift it's standing guard."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>As on Christmas Day, the only bank the verse +suggested was in the conservatory, a long, narrow +ledge of ferns and maidenhair, green with overhanging +vines and graceful fronds. For nearly +half an hour they poked around in it, lifting the +ferns from the warm, moist earth to see if anything +lay hidden at their roots. It was like April +in the conservatory, steamy and warm, and the +fragrance of hyacinths and white violets made it +a delightful place in which to linger.</p> + +<p>"Bank—bank—" repeated Lloyd, puzzling over +the verse again, when they had given up the search +in the conservatory and gone back to the drawing-room. +"It might mean a savings-bank, but there +hasn't been one in the house since that little red +tin one of mine that you dropped into the well with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +my three precious dimes in it. I've felt all these +yeahs that you owed me thirty cents."</p> + +<p>"Now, Lloyd Sherman, there's no use in bringing +up that old quarrel again," he laughed. "You +know we were playing that robbers were coming, +and we had to lower our gold and jewels into the +well, and you tied the fishing-line around the bank +your own self. So I am not to blame if the knot +came untied at the very first jerk. We've wasted +enough breath arguing that point to start a small +cyclone."</p> + +<p>They laughed again over the recollection of their +old quarrel, then Rob read the verse once more. +Presently he stopped drumming on the table with +his thumbs, and said, slowly, as if trying to recall +something long forgotten: "Don't you remember,—it +seems ages before we dropped your red bank +in the well,—that I had a remarkable penny savings-bank? +It was some sort of a slot machine in +the shape of a little iron dog. Daddy brought it to +me from New York. There was some kind of an +indicator on the side of it that looked like the face +of a watch. That was my introduction to puns, +for Daddy said it was a <i>watch</i> dog, made to guard +my pennies. Surely you haven't forgotten old +Watch, for after the indicator was broken I brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +the safe over here, and we kept it on the door-mat +in front of your playhouse, to guard the premises."</p> + +<p>"I should say I do remembah!" answered Lloyd. +"Probably it's up in the attic now. But what has +that to do with the rhyme?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? That must be the 'bank' +where the wild thyme grows. I don't know whether +Betty refers to the wild time we used to have playing +in the attic, or the wild time that the watch +kept. But I'm certain that that is the bank she +means."</p> + +<p>"Come on, then," cried Lloyd. "Let's go up +to the attic and hunt for it. I haven't been up there +for ovah a yeah."</p> + +<p>Rob led the way to the upper hall, and then up +the attic stairs, taking the steep steps two at a time +in long leaps.</p> + +<p>"That isn't the way you used to climb these +stairs," laughed Lloyd. "Don't you know you +had to weah little long-sleeved aprons when you +came ovah to play with me, to keep yoahself clean? +You always stepped on the front of them and stumbled +going up these steps."</p> + +<p>A headless and tailless hobby-horse of Rob's, on +which they had ridden many imaginary miles, stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +in one corner, and he crossed over to examine it, +with an amused smile.</p> + +<p>"It certainly didn't take much to amuse us in +those days," he said, touching the rockers with his +foot, and starting the disabled beast to bobbing +back and forth. "How long has it been since we +used to ride this thing? Is my hair white? I declare +I never had anything make me feel so ancient +as the sight of this old hobby-horse. I feel older +than grandfather."</p> + +<p>Lloyd had opened a dilapidated hair-covered +trunk, and was bending over a family of dolls +stowed away inside. "Heah is old Belinda!" she +exclaimed. "And Carrie Belle May, and Rosalie, +the Prairie Flowah! 'And, oh, Rob! Look at poah +Nelly Bly, all wah-paint and feathahs, just as you +fixed her up for a squaw that day we had an Indian +massacre in the grape arbour. I had forgotten that +we left her in such a fix!"</p> + +<p>"I'll never forget that day," answered Rob. +"Don't you remember how sore I made my arm, +trying to tattoo an anchor on it with a darning-needle +and clothes bluing? What else have you +buried in that old trunk?"</p> + +<p>Despite his six feet and seventeen years, Rob +dropped down on a roll of carpet beside the trunk,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +and watched with interest as Lloyd lifted out one +article after another over which they had quarrelled, +or in whose pleasure they had shared in what now +seemed a dim and far-away playtime. Don't you +remember this? Don't you remember that? they +asked each other, finding so many things to laugh +over and recall that they quite forgot the object +of their search.</p> + +<p>Lloyd was sitting with her back against the +warm chimney, which ran up through the middle +of the attic, but presently she began to feel chilly, +and sent Rob over to a chest, away back under the +eaves, for something to put around her. It was +packed full of old finery they had used on various +occasions for tableaux and plays. The first thing +he pulled out was a gorgeous red velvet cloak covered +with spangles.</p> + +<p>"That will do," she said, as he held it up inquiringly. +"It's good and warm."</p> + +<p>He pushed the chest back into place. Then, +straightening up, his glance fell on the discarded +playhouse, standing back in a dim corner. With +a whoop he pounced upon it.</p> + +<p>"Here's old Watch!" he exclaimed, holding up +the little iron dog. "And he is the bank where the +wild time grows, for here is the gift he is standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +guard over." Throwing the spangled cloak over +Lloyd's shoulders, he seated himself again on the +roll of carpet, and began to untie the little package +fastened to the dog's neck with a bit of ribbon. Inside +many layers of tissue-paper, he came at last +to a memorandum-book, small enough to fit in his +vest-pocket. It was bound in soft gray kid, and +on the back Betty had burned in old English letters, +with her pyrography-needle, the motto of +Warwick Hall: "I keep the tryst." Over it was +the crest, a heart, out of which rose a mailed arm, +grasping a spear.</p> + +<p>"Betty did that," said Lloyd. "She traced the +letters on first with tracing-papah, and then burnt +them. I remembah now, she made it a few days +befoah we came home. She thought we would +have our usual tree, and she intended to hang this +on it for you. Then when we had the hunt instead +of a tree, she took this way of giving it to +you. That is an appropriate motto for a memorandum-book, +isn't it? You'll appreciate it moah +when she tells you the story about it. Miss Chilton +read it to the English class one day, and had us +write it from memory for the next lesson."</p> + +<p>"Then what's the matter with your telling it +to me?" asked Rob, eying the mailed hand and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +the spear with interest. "I'll be gone before Betty +gets back. Go on and tell it. This is an ideal time +and place for story-telling."</p> + +<p>He leaned comfortably back against the warm +chimney and half-closed his eyes. The patter of +the rain on the roof made him drowsy.</p> + +<p>"Well," assented Lloyd, "I can't tell it with +as many frills and flourishes as Betty could, but +I remembah it bettah than most stories, because I +had to write it from memory." Drawing the +glittering cloak closer around her, she began as +if she were reading it, in the very words of the +green and gold volume:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Now there was a troubadour in the kingdom +of Arthur, who, strolling through the land with only +his minstrelsy to win him a way, found in every +baron's hall and cotter's hut a ready welcome.'"</p></div> + +<p>Here and there she stumbled over some part of +it, or told it hesitatingly in her own words, but +at last she ended it as well as Betty herself could +have done:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"So Ederyn won his sovereign's favour, and, +by his sovereign's grace permitted, went back to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +woo the maiden and win her for his bride. Then +henceforth blazoned on his shield and helmet he +bore the crest, a heart with hand that grasped a +spear, and, underneath, the words, 'I keep the +tryst.'"</p></div> + +<p>"That's a corking good motto," said Rob as she +paused. "I like that story, Lloyd, and I'll remember +it when I keep the engagements that I put down +in this little book."</p> + +<p>He sat a moment, flipping the leaves and whistling +a bar from "The Old Oaken Bucket."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" commanded Lloyd, suddenly, clapping +her hands over her ears, and making a wry face. +"You're off the key. Haven't I told you a thousand +times that it doesn't go that way? This +is it."</p> + +<p>Puckering up her lips, she whistled the tune +correctly, and he joined in. At the end of the +chorus he looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"It's been like old times this afternoon," he +said. "I'll tell you what, Lloyd, let's come up +here once a year after this, just to keep tryst with +our old playtimes. I'll put that down as the first +engagement in my memorandum-book. A year +from to-day we'll take another look at these things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right," assented Lloyd, cheerfully. Then +a wistful expression crept into her eyes as she +peered through the tiny attic window. Twilight +was falling early on account of the rain. A deep +gloom began to settle over her spirits also.</p> + +<p>"Rob," she said, slowly, "I haven't told you +yet. I didn't want to spoil our aftahnoon by thinking +about it any moah than I could help, and you +made me almost forget it for a little while. I +couldn't talk about it when you first came without +crying,—this yeah is going to be <i>such</i> a long, hah'd +one. They aren't going to let me go back to school +aftah the holidays. The doctah says I am not +strong enough, and it is such an awful Dungeon +of Disappointment that it just breaks my hah't to +think about it."</p> + +<p>To Rob's consternation she laid her head down +on old Belinda, who still lay limply across her lap, +and began to sob. He sat in embarrassed silence +for a moment, scarcely knowing her for the same +little companion whom he had taught to meet hurts +like a boy. He remembered the many times she +had winked back the tears over the bruises and +bumps and cuts she had encountered in following +his lead. He was bewildered by the unfamiliar +mood, and it hurt him to see her so grieved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There! there! Don't cry, Lloyd!" he begged, +hurt by the sight of the fair head bowed so dismally +over the old doll. "I know how it would +knock me out to have to stop now, just when I've +got into the swing of things, so I know just how +you feel. I'm mighty sorry."</p> + +<p>Then, as the sobs continued: "I'd go off and +whip somebody if it would do any good, but it +won't. You'll have to brace up as Ederyn did, and +you'll get out of your dungeon all right."</p> + +<p>There was no answer. School was so very dear, +and the disappointment so very bitter. It had all +surged over her again in a great wave. He tried +again.</p> + +<p>"It's tough, I know, but it will be easier if you +take it as all the Lloyds have taken their troubles, +with your teeth set and your head up. Somehow, +that's the way I've always thought you would take +things. Don't cry, Lloyd. Don't! It breaks me +all up to see you this way, when you've always been +so game."</p> + +<p>She straightened up and wiped her eyes, announcing +suddenly: "And I'm going to be game now. +If there's one thing I nevah could beah, it was for +you to think I was a coward, and I can't have you +thinking it now. It's a sawt of tryst I've kept all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +these yeahs, unconsciously, I suppose. Ever since +I was a little thing, if I thought 'Bobby expects it +of me,' I'd do it, no mattah what it was, from jumping +a fence to climbing on the chimney. I've lived +up to yoah expectations many a time at the risk +of killing myself."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you have," he answered, in a tone of +hearty admiration. There was a tender light in +his gray eyes which she did not see, she was so +busy wiping her own.</p> + +<p>"I'm done crying now," she announced, springing +to her feet and thrusting Belinda back into the +trunk. "Come on, let's go down and pop some +cawn ovah the library fiah. Put this cloak away +first."</p> + +<p>He pushed the chest back to its place under the +eaves and started after her, pulling out his handkerchief +as he went, to wipe away a stray cobweb +into which he had thrust his hand. It reminded him +of the story.</p> + +<p>"You know," he suggested, consolingly, "there's +bound to be some way out of your dungeon. I'll +spend all the rest of the vacation helping you twist +cobwebs for your rope, if you like."</p> + +<p>She made no answer then to his offer of assistance. +She felt that she could not steady her voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +if she tried to speak her appreciation of his sympathy.</p> + +<p>So she called out, as she dashed past him: "As +Joyce used to say at the house pah'ty, 'the last one +down is a jibbering Ornithorhynchus!'"</p> + +<p>Away they went in a mad race, whose noisy +clatter made it seem to the old Colonel in his den +that the rafters were falling in. But on the landing +she paused an instant.</p> + +<p>"It—it helps a lot, Rob," she said, wistfully, +"to have you undahstand,—to know that you +know how it hurts."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could really help you," he answered, +earnestly. "You're a game little chum!"</p> + +<p>She flashed back a grateful smile from under her +wet eyelashes, and led the race on down the next +flight of stairs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>HUMDRUM DAYS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> through the rest of that week, and through +New Year's Day, Lloyd managed to keep her resolution +bravely. Even when the time came for the +girls to go back to school without her, she went +through the farewells like a little Spartan, driving +down to the station with tearful Betty, who grieved +over Lloyd's disappointment as if it had been her +own.</p> + +<p>When the train pulled out, with the four girls +on the rear platform, she stood waving her handkerchief +cheerily as long as she could see an answering +flutter. Then she turned away, catching +her breath in a deep indrawn sob, that might have +been followed by others if Rob had not been with +her. He saw her clench her hands and set her +teeth together hard, and knew what a fight she was +making to choke back the tears, but he wisely gave +no sign that he saw and sympathized. He only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +proposed a walk over to the blacksmith shop to see +the red fox that Billy Kerr had trapped and caged. +But a little later, when she had regained her self-control +and was poking a stick between the slats +of the coop where the fox was confined, to make +it stretch itself, he said, suddenly:</p> + +<p>"By cricky, you were game, Lloyd! If it had +been me, I couldn't have gone to the station and +watched the fellows go off without me, and joke +about it the way you did."</p> + +<p>Lloyd went on rattling the stick between the slats +and made no answer, but Rob's approval brightened +her spirits wonderfully. It was not until the next +day, when he, too, went back to school, that she +fully realized how lonely her winter was going to +be. She strolled into her mother's room, and threw +herself listlessly into a chair by the window.</p> + +<p>"What can I do, mothah? I mustn't read long, +I mustn't study, Tarbaby is lame, so I can't ride, +and I've walked as far as I care to this mawning."</p> + +<p>"What would you like to do?" asked Mrs. Sherman, +who was dressing to go out.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but things that I can't do," was the +fretful answer. "It would be lots of fun if I could +go out in the kitchen and beat eggs, and make custah'd +pies and biscuits and things. I'd love to cook.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +I haven't had a chance since I was at Ware's Wigwam. +But Aunt Cindy scolds and grumbles if anybody +so much as looks into the kitchen. She says +she won't have me messing around in her way."</p> + +<p>"I know," sighed Mrs. Sherman. "Cindy is +getting more fussy and exacting every year. But +she has cooked for the family so long that she seems +to think the kitchen is hers. If she were not such +a superior cook, I wouldn't put up with her whims, +but in these days, when everybody is having so +much trouble with servants, we'll have to humour +her. She's a faithful old creature. You might cook +on the chafing-dish in the dining-room. There are +all sorts of things you could make on that."</p> + +<p>Lloyd shrugged her shoulders impatiently. "But +not bread and pies and things you do with a rolling-pin. +That's the pah't I like."</p> + +<p>She sat a moment, swinging her foot in silence, +and then broke out:</p> + +<p>"If I were a girl in a story-book, this disappointment +would turn me into such a saintly, helpful +creatuah that I'd be called 'The Angel of the +Home.' I've read about such girls. They keep +things in ordah, and mend and dust and put flowahs +about, and make the house so bright and cheerful +that people wondah how they evah got along without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +them. Every time they turn around, there are +lovely, helpful things for them to do. But what +can <i>I</i> do in a big house like this moah than I've +always tried to do? I've tried to be considerate of +everybody's comfo't evah since I stah'ted out to +build a road of the loving hah't in everybody's +memory. The servants do everything heah, and +don't want to be interfered with. I wish we were +dead poah, and lived in a plain little cottage and +did our own work. Then I wouldn't have time +to get lonesome. I'd be lots happiah.</p> + +<p>"One day, when Miss Gilmer and I were talking +about Ederyn in his Dungeon of Disappointment, +she said that we could always get out of our troubles +the same way that he did; that the cobwebs he +twisted into ropes were disagreeable to touch. Nobody +likes to put their hands into dusty cobwebs, +and that they represent the disagreeable little tasks +that lie in wait for everybody. She said that, if +we'll just grapple the things that we dislike most +to do, the little homely every-day duties, and busy +ourselves with them, they'll help us to rise above +our discontent. I've been trying all mawning to +think of some such cobwebs for me to take hold +of, and there isn't a single one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman smiled at the wobegone face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +turned toward her. "Fancy any one being miserable +over such a state of affairs as that!" she +laughed. "Actually complaining because there's +nothing disagreeable for her to do! Well, we'll +have to look for some cobwebs to occupy you. +Maybe if you can't find them at home, you can +do like the old woman who was tossed up in a +basket, seventy times as high as the moon. Don't +you remember how Mom Beck used to sing it to +you?</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Old woman! Old woman! Old woman, said I,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">O whither, O whither, O whither so high?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>To sweep the cobwebs out of the sky</i>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But I'll be back again, by and by.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>She trilled it gaily as she fastened her belt, and +took out her hat and gloves.</p> + +<p>"Fate must have given her just such a cobwebless +home as you have, and she had to soar high +to rise above her troubles. Come on, little girl, get +your hat and coat, and we'll go in search of something +disagreeable for you to do; but I hope your +quest won't take you seventy times as high as the +moon."</p> + +<p>They drove down to the store to attend to the +day's marketing. While Mrs. Sherman was ordering +her groceries, Lloyd went to the back of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +store, where one of the clerks was teaching tricks +to a bright little fox-terrier. She was so interested +in the performance that she did not know when +Miss Allison came in, or how long she and her +mother stood discussing her.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Sherman, "she has been brave +about it. She never complained but once, and that +to me this morning. But we know how unhappy +she is. Jack and papa worry about her all the time. +They want me to take her to Florida. They think +she must be given some pleasure that will compensate +in a way for this disappointment. But it is not +at all convenient for me to leave home now, and +I feel that for her own good she should learn to +meet such things for herself. It would be far easier, +I acknowledge, if there was anything at home to +occupy her, but I cannot allow her to interfere with +Mom Beck's work, or Cindy's. They resent her +doing anything." She repeated the conversation +they had had that morning.</p> + +<p>"Loan her to me for the rest of the day," said +Miss Allison. "I can show her plenty of cobwebs, +the kind she is pining for."</p> + +<p>So it happened that a little later, when Miss +Allison crossed the road to the post-office, and +started up the path toward home, Lloyd was with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +her, smiling happily over the prospect of spending +the day with the patron saint of all the Valley's +merrymakings. From Lloyd's earliest recollection, +Miss Allison had been the life of every party and +picnic in the neighbourhood. She was everybody's +confidante. Like Shapur, who gathered something +from the heart of every rose to fill his crystal vase, +so she had distilled from all these disclosures the +precious attar of sympathy, whose sweetness won +for her a way, and gained for her a welcome, wherever +she went.</p> + +<p>As they turned in at the gate, Lloyd looked wistfully +across at The Beeches, and her eyes filled with +tears. Miss Allison slipped her arm around her +and drew her close with a sympathetic clasp, as they +walked around the circle of the driveway leading +to the house.</p> + +<p>"I know just how you feel, dear. Like the little +lame boy in that story of the 'Pied Piper of Hamelin.' +Because he couldn't keep up with the others +when they followed the piper's tune, he had to sit +and watch them dance away without him, and disappear +into the mountainside. He was the only +child left in the whole town of Hamelin. It <i>is</i> +lonely for you, I know, with all the boys and girls +of your own age away at school. But think how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +much lonelier Hamelin would have been without +that child. You'll find out that old people can play, +too, though, if you'll take a hand in their games. +I want to teach you one after awhile, which I used +to enjoy very much, and still take pleasure in."</p> + +<p>Miss Allison led the way up-stairs to her own +room. As they passed the door leading to the north +wing, Lloyd exclaimed: "I'll nevah forget that +time, the night of the Valentine pah'ty, when Gingah +and I went into the blue room, and the beah +that Malcolm and Keith had tied to the bed-post +rose up out of the dah'k and frightened us neahly +to death."</p> + +<p>"We had some lively times that winter with +Virginia and the boys," answered Miss Allison. +"I kept a record of some of their sorriest mishaps. +Wait a minute until I speak to the housemaid, and +I'll see if I can find it."</p> + +<p>Miss Allison had been wondering how she could +best entertain Lloyd, but the problem was solved +when she found the journal, in which she had written +the history of the eventful winter when her sister's +little daughter Virginia and her brother's two +boys had been left in her charge. Lloyd had taken +part in many of the mischievous adventures, and she +sat smiling over the novelty of hearing herself described<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +with all the imperious ways, naughty temper, +and winning charm that had been hers at the +age of eight.</p> + +<p>"It is like looking at an old photograph of oneself," +she said, after awhile. "It seems so strange +to be one of the characters in a book, and listen to +stories about oneself."</p> + +<p>"That reminds me of the game I spoke of," said +Miss Allison. "I invented it when I was about +your age. I had just read 'Cranford,' and the story +of life in that simple little village seemed so charming +to me that I wished with all my heart I could +step into the book and be one of the characters, +and meet all the people that lived between its covers. +Then I heard some one say that there were more +interesting happenings and queer characters in +Lloydsboro Valley than in Cranford. So I began +to look around for them. I pretended that I was +the heroine of a book called 'Lloydsboro Valley,' +and all that summer I looked upon the people I +met as characters in the same story.</p> + +<p>"It happened that all my young friends were +away that summer, and it would have been very +lonely but for my new game. The organist went +away, and, although I was only fifteen, I took her +place and played the little cabinet organ we used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +then in church and Sunday school. That threw me +much with the older people, for I had to go to +choir-practice to play the organ, and also attend +the missionary teas. Gradually they drew me into +a sewing-circle that was in existence then, and a +reading club. I found it was true that my own +little village really had far more interesting people +in it than any I had read about, and I learned to +love all the dear, cranky, gossipy old characters in +it, because I studied them so closely that I found +how good at heart they were despite their peculiarities +and foibles.</p> + +<p>"That's what I want you to do this winter, +Lloyd. Join the little choir, and meet with the +King's Daughters, and learn to know these interesting +neighbours of yours. And," she added, smiling, +"I promise you that you'll find all the cobwebs +you need to help haul you out of your dungeon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Allison!" exclaimed Lloyd, looking +horrified at the thought. "<i>I</i> couldn't sing in the +choir and join the King's Daughtahs and all that. +They're all at least twice as old as I am, and some +of them even moah."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can," insisted Miss Allison. "We +need your voice in the choir, and you need the new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +interest these things would bring into your life. So +don't say no until after you've given my game a +trial. The King's Daughters' Circle is to meet here +this afternoon, and I want you to help me. I'm +going to serve hot chocolate and wafers, and, as +long as it is such a cold, blowy day, I believe I'll +add some nut sandwiches to make the refreshments +a little more substantial."</p> + +<p>Privately, Lloyd looked forward to the afternoon +as something stupid which she must face cheerfully +for Miss Allison's sake, but she found her interest +aroused with the first arrival. It was Libbie Simms, +whom she had known all her life, in a way, for she +could scarcely recall a Sabbath when she had not +looked across at the dull, homely face in the opposite +pew, and pitied her because of her queer nose +and mouse-coloured hair. In the same way she had +known Miss McGill, who came with Libbie. She +had simply been one of the congregation who had +claimed her attention for a moment each week, as +she minced down the aisle like an animated rainbow. +All she knew about Miss McGill was that she usually +wore so many shades of purple and pink and +blue that the clashing colours set one's teeth on +edge.</p> + +<p>But in five minutes Lloyd had forgotten their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +peculiarities of feature and dress, and was listening +with interest to their account of a call they had just +made in Rollington. They had been to see a poor +washerwoman who had five children to support. +The youngest, a baby who had fits, was very ill, +about to die. At the mention of Mrs. Crisp, Lloyd +recalled the forlorn little woman in a wispy crêpe +veil, who had enlisted her sympathy to such an +extent one Thanksgiving Day that she and Betty +had walked over to Rollington from the Seminary +to carry the greater part of the turkey and fruit +that had been sent them in their box of Thanksgiving +goodies.</p> + +<p>There was so little poverty in the Valley that, +when any real case of suffering was discovered, it +was taken up with enthusiasm. Lloyd wondered +how she could have thought Libbie Simms so hopelessly +ugly, when she saw her face light up with +unselfish interest in her poor neighbours, and heard +her suggestions for their relief. And her conscience +pricked her for making fun of Miss McGill's taste +when she saw how generous she was, and listened +to her humourous description of several things that +had happened in the Valley. She was certainly +entertaining, and looked at life through spectacles +as rose-coloured as her necktie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>The library filled rapidly, and soon a score of +needles were at work on the flannel garments intended +for the Crisp family. Lloyd, on a stool +between Katherine Marks and Mrs. Walton, sewed +industriously, interested in the buzz of conversation +all around her.</p> + +<p>"This is not malicious gossip," explained Mrs. +Walton, in an amused undertone, smiling with +Lloyd and Katherine at a remark which unintentionally +reached their ears. "But in a little community +like this, where little happens, and our interests +are bound so closely together, the smallest +details of our neighbours' affairs necessarily entertain +us. It <i>is</i> interesting to know that Mr. Rawles +and his great-aunt are not on speaking terms, and +it is positively exciting to hear that Mr. Wolf and +Mrs. Cayne quarrelled over the leaflets used in +Sunday school, and that she told him to his face +that he was a hypocrite and no better than an infidel. +It doesn't make us love these good people any the +less to know that they are human like ourselves, +and have their tempers and their spites and feuds. +We know their good side, too. Wait till calamity +or sickness touches some one of us, and, see how +kind and sympathetic and tender they all are; every +one of them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 417px;"> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="417" height="500" alt=""'I NEARLY FAINTED WHEN I HAPPENED TO LOOK UP'"" title=""'I NEARLY FAINTED WHEN I HAPPENED TO LOOK UP'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'I NEARLY FAINTED WHEN I HAPPENED TO LOOK UP'"</span> +</div> + +<p>"You'll hear more gossip here in one afternoon +than at all the Cranford tea-tables put together," +said Katherine Marks. "But it is a mild sort, +like the kind going on behind us."</p> + +<p>Miss McGill, with her head close to Abby Carter's, +was saying: "Oh, but, my dear, he gets more +suspicious and foxy every day of his life. I don't +see how Emma Belle puts up with such a cranky +old father."</p> + +<p>"I know," responded Abby. "They say he +drives the cook nearly distracted, going into the +kitchen every day and lifting the lids off all the +pots and pans to smell what's cooking for dinner. +Then he makes a fuss if it's not to his liking."</p> + +<p>"Yes," responded Miss McGill, "but that isn't +a circumstance to some of his ways. I ran in there +last night a few minutes, to show Emma Belle a +pattern she wanted. He got it into his head we +were hiding something from him, and he actually +climbed up on the dining-room table and peeped +through the transom at us. I nearly fainted when +I happened to look up and saw that old monkey-like +face, with its dense, gloomy whiskers, looking +down at me. I just screamed and sat jibbering and +pointing at the transom. I couldn't help it. He +gave me such a turn, I didn't get over it all night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +Emma Belle was so mortified she didn't know what +to do. It isn't as if he was crazy. He's just mean. +That girl has the patience of a saint."</p> + + +<p>Before the afternoon was over, Lloyd decided +that Miss Allison was right. The Valley held a +number of interesting characters, whose acquaintance +was well worth cultivating if she wanted to +be entertained. Part of the time, while the needles +were flying, Mrs. MacIntyre read aloud. Miss Allison +called Lloyd into the dining-room when it was +time to serve the refreshments.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to ask a favour of you, dear," she +said. "I want you to sing for us presently. No, +wait a minute," she added, hurriedly, as Lloyd drew +back with an exclamation of dismay. "Don't +refuse till you have heard why I ask it. It is on +account of Agnes Waring. These meetings are +the great social events of the winter to her. She +never gets to go anywhere else except to church. +She's passionately fond of music, and I always make +it a point to prepare a regular programme when +the Circle meets here. But all my musicians failed +me this time, and I cannot bear to disappoint her. +I know you are timid about singing before older +people, but this is one of the cobwebs I promised +to find for you. It will be disagreeable, but I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +a good reason for thinking that you will find it +the first strand of the rope that is to lift you out +of your dungeon. I'll tell you some things about +Agnes after awhile that will make you glad you +have had such an opportunity."</p> + +<p>When Lloyd went back to the library, bearing +a pile of snowy napkins, she stole several glances +at Agnes Waring in her journey around the room +to distribute them. All that she knew of her was +that she was the youngest of three sisters who +sewed for their living. She was almost as slim and +girlish in figure as Lloyd, although she was nearly +twice as old. She had kept the timid, shrinking +manner that she had when a child. That and her +appealing big blue eyes, and almost babyish complexion, +made her seem much younger than she +was. It was a sensitive, refined face that Lloyd +kept glancing at, one that would have been remarkably +pretty had it not been so sad.</p> + +<p>Lloyd had sung in public several times, but always +in some play, when the costume which she +wore seemed to change her to the character she +personated. That made it easier. It was one of +the hardest things she had ever done, to stand up +before these twenty ladies who had been exchanging +criticisms so freely all afternoon, on every subject<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +mentioned, and sing the songs which Miss +Allison chose for her from the Princess play: The +Dove Song, with its high, sweet trills of "Flutter +and fly," and the one beginning:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"My godmother bids me spin,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">That my heart may not be sad.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Sing and spin for my brother's sake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the spinning makes me glad."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>It was with a very red face that she slipped into +her seat after it was over, surprised and pleased +by the applause she received. They were all so +cordial in their appreciation, that presently she was +persuaded into doing what Miss Allison had suggested. +When the circle broke up she had consented +to join the choir, and to meet with them the +next Friday night, when they went to the Mallards' +to practise.</p> + +<p>The carriage came for her soon after the last +guest departed, and Miss Allison stepped in beside +her to take the finished garments over to Rollington. +It was the quaintest of little villages, settled +entirely by Irish families. Only one lone street +straggled over the hill, but it was a long one with +little whitewashed cabins and cottages thickly set +along each side. Mrs. Crisp's was the first one on +the street, after they left the Lloydsboro pike. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +was clean, but not half so large or comfortable as +the negro servants' quarters at Locust.</p> + +<p>It was so late that Miss Allison did not go in, +only stopped at the door to leave the bundle and +inquire about the baby, promising to come again +next morning. Lloyd had a glimpse of the two +children next in age to the baby. They were playing +on the floor with a doll made of a corn-cob +wrapped in a towel, and a box of empty spools.</p> + +<p>"Just think!" she exclaimed as she climbed +into the carriage again. "A cawn-cob doll! And +the attic at home is full of toys that I don't care +for! I'm going to pick out a basketful to-morrow +and bring them down to these children. And did +you see that poah little Minnie Crisp? Only eight +yeahs old, and doing the work of a grown woman. +She was getting suppah while her mothah tended +to the sick baby. Oh, I wondah," she cried, her +face lighting up with the thought. "I wondah if +Mrs. Crisp would mind if I'd come down to-morrow +and cook dinnah for them. That's what I've +been crazy to do,—to cook. I could bring eggs +and sugah and all the materials, and make lemon pie +and oystah soup and potato croquettes. I know +how to make lots of things. Oh, do you suppose +she would be offended?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not in the least," responded Miss Allison, +heartily. "She is a very sensible little woman +who is nearly worn out in her struggle with poverty +and sickness. She has been too proud and brave +to accept help before, when she was able to stagger +along under her own burden, but now she will +be very grateful. And the children will look upon +you as a wonderful mixture of Santa Claus, fairy +godmother, and Aladdin's lamp."</p> + +<p>Then she turned to peer into the happy face +beside her.</p> + +<p>"Here are your cobwebs!" she exclaimed, gaily. +"A whole skyful, and you can sweep away to your +heart's content. You need have no more humdrum +days unless you choose."</p> + +<p>Lloyd looked back at the cottage where four +towheads at the window watched the departing +carriage. Then with a smile she leaned out and +waved her hand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF AMANTHIS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lloyd</span> hurried down the road to the post-office, +her cheeks almost as red as her coat from her brisk +walk in the wintry air. It was too cold to saunter, +or she would have made the errand last as long as +possible. There would be nothing to do after she +had called for the mail. The day before she had +had her visit to Mrs. Crisp to fill the morning. It +brought a pleasant thrill now to think of the little +woman's gratitude and the children's pleasure in +the dinner she had cooked in the clean bare kitchen. +She wished she could go every day and repeat the +performance, but her family would not allow it. +They said it was just as injurious for her to waste +her strength in charity as it was in study, and she +must be more temperate in her enthusiasms.</p> + +<p>She wished that Miss Mattie would invite her +into the tiny office behind the rows of pigeonholes +and letter-boxes, and let her sit by the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +awhile. Just watching people pass would be some +amusement, more than she could find at home.</p> + +<p>She was passing the Bisbee place as she made +the wish. It was a white frame house standing +near the road, and commanding a view of both +station and store, as well as the approach to the +post-office. To her surprise, some one tapped on +the pane of an up-stairs window. Then the sash +flew up, and Mrs. Bisbee called in her thin, fluttering +voice: "Lloyd! Lloyd Sherman! If you're +going to the post-office, I wish you'd ask if there +is anything for me. I don't dare set foot out-of-doors +this cold weather."</p> + +<p>Then, fearful of draughts, she banged the window +down without waiting for a reply. Lloyd +smiled and nodded, glad of an opportunity to be +of service. As she hurried on, she remembered +that Miss Allison had spoken of this gentle little +old lady, with her fluttering voice and placid smile, +as one of the most interesting and "Cranfordy" +characters in the Valley, and that, while she never +went out in the winter, and seldom in the summer, +except to church, she kept such a sharp eye on the +neighbourhood happenings from the watch-tower +of her window that Mrs. Walton laughingly called +it the "Window in Thrums."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was with the feeling that she was stepping +into a story that Lloyd opened the gate five minutes +later and started up the path. A vigorous tapping +on the window above, and a beckoning hand +motioned her to come up-stairs. Hesitating an instant +on the porch, she opened the front door and +stepped into the hall.</p> + +<p>"Do come up!" called the old lady, plaintively, +from the head of the stairs. "I've been wishing +so hard for company that I believe my wishing +must have drawn you. Now that daughter is married +and gone, I get so lonesome, with Mr. Bisbee +in town all day, that I often find myself talking +to myself just for the sake of sociability. Not a +soul has been in for the last two days, and usually +I have callers from morning till night. This is such +a good dropping-in place, you know. So central +that I see and hear everything."</p> + +<p>She ushered Lloyd into a room, gay with big-flowered +chintz curtains, and quaint with old-fashioned +carved furniture. There was a high four-poster +bed in one corner, with a chintz valance +around it, and pink silk quilled into the tester. The +only modern thing in the room was a tiled grate, +piled full of blazing coals. It threw out such a +summer-like heat that Lloyd <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'amost'">almost</ins> gasped. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +was glad to accept Mrs. Bisbee's invitation to take +off her coat and gloves. She moved her chair back +as far as possible into the bay-window.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you feel it's pretty warm in here," +said Mrs. Bisbee. "I have to keep it that way +so that I can sit over here against the window without +catching cold. I couldn't afford to miss all +that's going on in the street. It's my only amusement."</p> + +<p>She drew her work-basket toward her and picked +up the quilt pieces she had laid down when she +went to welcome Lloyd. She was making a silk +quilt of the tea-chest pattern, and the basket was +full of bright silk scraps and pieces of ribbon.</p> + +<p>"It's like a panorama, I tell Mr. Bisbee. Oh, +by the way, I've been aching to find out. Where +did you all go that day just before Christmas when +you started off, a whole party of you, traipsing +down the road with a new saucepan and baskets +and things? I heard you had a picnic in the snow. +Is that so?"</p> + +<p>Lloyd really gasped this time, but not from the +heat. She was so surprised that Mrs. Bisbee should +have taken such an interest in her affairs, or in +any of the unimportant doings of their set, as to +remember them longer than the passing moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +Mrs. Bisbee was associated in Lloyd's mind with +solemn churchly things, like the Gothic-backed pulpit +chairs or the sombre brown pews. Lloyd had +never seen her before, except when she was singing +hymns, or sitting with meekly folded hands through +sermon-time. It was almost as surprising to find +that she was inquisitive and interested in human +happenings as it would have been to discover that +the ivy-covered belfry kept an eye on her.</p> + +<p>In the midst of her description of the picnic, +Mrs. Bisbee leaned forward and peered eagerly out +of the window over her spectacles.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to interrupt you," she said; "I +just wanted to make sure that that was Caleb Coburn +out again. He has been house-bound with +rheumatism ever since Thanksgiving."</p> + +<p>Lloyd looked out in time to see a tall, stoop-shouldered +man with a bushy beard go slowly +across the road. He was buttoned up in a heavy +overcoat, and limped along with the aid of two +canes.</p> + +<p>"He's the queerest old fellow," commented Mrs. +Bisbee, looking after him, with a gentle shake of +the head. "Lately he has taken to knitting, to +pass the time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"To knitting!" echoed Lloyd, in amazement. +"That big man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He calls it hooking. He has a needle +made out of a ham bone. Fancy now! Daughter +said it was the funniest thing in life to see him +propped up in bed with a striped skull-cap on, hooking +his wife a shawl."</p> + +<p>Lloyd laughed, but she followed the stooped +figure with a glance of sympathy. She knew from +experience how hard it was to spend the time in +enforced idleness. Old Mr. Coburn had always +been a familiar figure to her. She recognized him +on the road as she did the trees and the houses +which she passed daily, but he had never aroused +her interest any more than they. Now the knowledge +that he was lonely like herself, so lonely that, +big, bearded man as he was, he had learned to knit +in order to occupy the dull days, seemed to put +them on a common footing.</p> + +<p>Lloyd took a long step forward out of her childhood +that morning when she wakened to the fact +that some things are as hard to bear at fifty as at +fifteen. With a dawning interest she watched the +people of the Valley go by, one by one,—people +whom she had passed heretofore as she had passed +the fence-posts on the road. It could never be so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +again, for henceforth she would see them in a new +light,—the light of understanding and sympathy +shed on them by Mrs. Bisbee's choice bits of gossip +or scraps of personal history.</p> + +<p>She had watched the procession for nearly an +hour, when Agnes Waring suddenly turned the +corner, and went into the store with a bundle in +her arms. Mrs. Bisbee, pausing in the act of +threading a needle, looked out again over her spectacles.</p> + +<p>"There goes a girl I'm certainly sorry for. She +is a born lady, and comes of as good a family as +anybody in the Valley, but she has to work harder +than any darkey in Lloydsboro. She's up at four +o'clock these winter mornings, milks the cow, chops +wood, gets breakfast, and maybe walks two or +three miles with a big bundle like that, taking home +sewing, or going out to fit a dress for somebody."</p> + +<p>Miss Allison had already awakened Lloyd's interest +in Agnes, and she leaned forward to watch +her, while Mrs. Bisbee went on.</p> + +<p>"She's never had any of the pleasures that most +girls have. To my certain knowledge she's never +had a beau or been to a big party or travelled farther +than Louisville. I suppose you could count +on the fingers of one hand the times she has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +on a train. She's wild about music, but she's never +had any advantages. By the way, she was in here +the day after the King's Daughters met at Allison +MacIntyre's, to fit a wrapper on me. Knowing +how few outings she has, I encouraged her to talk +it all over, as I knew she was glad to do. I declare +she made as much of it as if it had been the governor's +ball. She told me how much she enjoyed +your singing. She said that, if there was any one +person in the world whom she envied more than +another, it was Lloyd Sherman. Not for your looks +or the handsome things you have (for the Valley +is full of pretty girls, and many of them are +wealthy), but for the advantages you have had in +the way of music and travel.</p> + +<p>"They have an old piano, about all that was +saved out of the wreck when their father lost his +fortune. She'd give her eyes to be able to play +on it. But she wasn't much more than a baby +when her father died, so she missed the advantages +the older girls had. You see she is twenty years +younger than Marietta, and nearly twenty-five +years younger than Sarah. Poor Agnes! I suppose +she will never know anything but work and +poverty. It's too bad,—such a sweet, refined girl, +and as proud as she is poor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lloyd echoed Mrs. Bisbee's sympathetic sigh, +as she looked after the hurrying figure in its worn +jacket and shabby shoes. She was just coming out +of the store again.</p> + +<p>"I feel so sorry for her sistahs, too," she ventured. +"I nevah knew till the othah day that Miss +Marietta has been an invalid so long. Miss Allison +told me she had been in bed for fifteen yeahs! +It's awful! Why, that is as long as my whole lifetime +has been."</p> + +<p>"She was to have been married," began Mrs. +Bisbee, pouring out the romance at which Miss +Allison had only hinted. "She was engaged to +Murray Cathright, one of the finest young lawyers +I ever knew, steady as a meeting-house. He had +the respect and confidence of everybody. Well, +Marietta had her trousseau all ready, and a beautiful +one it was. Her father had sent to Paris for the +wedding-gown, and all her linen was hand-embroidered +by the nuns in some French convent.</p> + +<p>"They certainly had all that heart could wish +in those days. It is a pity that Agnes was too +young to enjoy her share of luxuries. Well, just +a week before the time set for the wedding, Murray +Cathright mysteriously disappeared. He had gone +away on a short business trip. His family traced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +him to a hotel in Pittsburg, and then lost all clue, +except that just before leaving the hotel he had +asked the clerk for the time-tables of an Eastern +railroad. There was a terrible wreck on that road +that same night. The entire train went through +a bridge into the river, and they thought he must +have been swept away with the unidentified dead. +But it was months before Marietta would believe +it.</p> + +<p>"She acted as if her mind were a little touched +all that summer. Used to dress up every evening +in the clothes he had liked best, with a flower in +her hair, and go down to the honeysuckle arbour +to wait for him. She'd sit there and wait and wait +all alone, until her father'd go down and lead her +in. The next day she'd go through the same performance. +It ended in a spell of brain fever. She +came out of that with her mind all right, but she +never was strong again. After all the rest of their +troubles came, she had a stroke of paralysis. It's +left her so she can't walk. But she can lie there +and make buttonholes and pull basting threads. +She's a perfect marvel, she's so patient and cheerful. +People like to go there just on that account. You'd +never know she had a trouble to hear her talk. But +I know what she's suffered, and I know that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +still keeps the wedding-gown. It's laid away in +rose leaves for her to be buried in."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bisbee paused and spread out the finished +quilt-piece on her knee, patting it approvingly before +choosing the scraps for another block. Then +she wiped her spectacles. "Sometimes I don't +know which I'm the sorriest for, Marietta, who had +such a good man for a lover as Murray Cathright +was, and lost him, or Agnes, who's never had anything."</p> + +<p>"Why don't people invite her out and give her +a good time?" asked Lloyd. "Her being a seamstress +oughtn't to make any difference to old family +friends, when she's such a lady."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't," answered Mrs. Bisbee. "People +used to be nice to those girls, and they were always +invited everywhere at first. But after awhile there +was Marietta always in bed, and Agnes a mere +baby, and poor Miss Sarah with the burden of their +support. She had only her needle to keep the wolf +from the door. She couldn't accept invitations +then. There was no time. Gradually people +stopped asking her. She dropped out of the social +life of the Valley so completely that Agnes grew +up without any knowledge of it. All she has +known has been hard work. Miss Allison has tried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +to draw her into things, but the older sisters are +proud, as I said. Agnes cannot dress suitably, and +they can make no return of hospitalities, so she +has never ventured into anything more than the +King's Daughters' Circle."</p> + +<p>"There's Alec with the carriage!" exclaimed +Lloyd. "He's stopping at the stoah. If I hurry, +I can ride back home. I've stayed so long that +mothah will wondah what has become of me."</p> + +<p>"Don't go!" begged Mrs. Bisbee, as Lloyd began +drawing on her coat. "I don't know when +I've enjoyed a morning so much. Since daughter's +married and gone I miss her young friends so +much. She used to have the house full of them +from morning till night. Now I fairly pine for +the sight of a fresh young face sometimes. You've +livened me up more than you can know. <i>Do</i> come +again!"</p> + +<p>Lloyd went away highly pleased by her cordial +reception. She had enjoyed being talked to as if +she were grown, and these glimpses into the lives +of her neighbours were more interesting than any +her books could give her. When she passed the +lane leading up to the house where the three sisters +lived, she wished that she could turn over a +leaf and read more about them. She wondered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +if Miss Marietta ever took out the beautiful wedding-dress +that was to be her shroud. She mused +over the newly discovered romance all the way +home.</p> + +<p>If it had not been for that morning's call, and +the interest it aroused in her neighbours, several +things might not have happened, which afterward +followed each other like links in a chain. Probably +Miss Sarah would have walked up to Locust just +the same, to take home a wrapper she had finished, +and not finding Mrs. Sherman at home would have +stepped inside the door a moment to warm by the +dining-room fire; and Lloyd, with the courtesy +that never failed her, would have been as graciously +polite as her mother could have been. But if it +had not been for the interest in her that Mrs. Bisbee's +story gave, several other happenings might +not have followed.</p> + +<p>As Lloyd looked at the gray-haired woman on +whom toil and poverty and care had left their +marks, and remembered there had been a time when +Miss Sarah had been as tenderly cared for as herself, +a sudden pity surged up into her heart. She +longed to lighten her load in some way, and to +give back to her for a moment at least the comforts +she had lost. With a quick gesture she motioned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +her away from the dining-room door. "No, come +in heah!" she exclaimed, leading the way into the +drawing-room, and pushing a big armchair toward +the fire.</p> + +<p>Blue and cold from her long walk against the +wind, Miss Sarah sank down among the soft cushions +and leaned back luxuriously.</p> + +<p>"It's so ti'ahsome walking against the wind," +exclaimed the Little Colonel. "When I came in +awhile ago, I was puffing and blowing. I'm going +to make you a cup of hot tea. That's what mothah +always takes. No! It won't be any <i>trouble</i>," she +exclaimed, as Miss Sarah protested. "It will be +the biggest kind of a pleasuah. It will give me a +chance to use mothah's little tea-ball. I deahly +love to wiggle it around in the cup and see the +watah po'ah out of all the little holes. I've been +wishing somebody would come, or that I had something +to do. Now you have granted both wishes. +I can have a regulah little tea-pah'ty. Excuse me +just a minute, please."</p> + +<p>Left to herself, Miss Sarah sat looking around +at the handsome furnishings: the thick Persian +rugs, the old portraits, the tall, burnished harp in +the corner, the bowl of hothouse violets on the +table at her elbow, until Lloyd returned, bearing a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +toasting fork and a plate of thinly sliced bread. +Miss Sarah turned toward her with wistful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I have always loved this old room," she said. +"This is the first time I have been in it for twenty +years. It is an old friend. I have spent many +happy hours here in your grandmother's day. She +was always entertaining the young people of the +Valley. Sometimes that time seems so far away +that I wonder if it was not all a dream. It was +a very beautiful dream, at any rate. I often wish +Agnes could have had a share in it. She has missed +so much in not having <i>her</i> friendship."</p> + +<p>She nodded toward the portrait over the mantel. +"Amanthis Lloyd was my ideal woman when I was +a young girl like yourself," she added, softly, with +her eyes on the beautiful features above her.</p> + +<p>"I have missed so much, too," said Lloyd, following +Miss Sarah's gaze. "And yet it seems to +me I must have known her. The portrait has always +seemed alive to me. I used to talk to it +sometimes when I was a little thing, and I nevah +could beah to look at it when I had been naughty. +I wish you would tell me about her."</p> + +<p>She knelt on the hearth-rug as she spoke, and +held the long toasting-fork toward the fire. +"Mothah and grandfathah often talk about her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +but they don't tell the same things that one outside +of the family might."</p> + +<p>By the time the toast was delicately browned +and buttered, Mom Beck came in with the tea-tray, +and placed it on the table beside the bowl of +violets.</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Lloyd, seating herself on +the other side of the table as the old woman left +the room. "I didn't think to tell her to bring cold +turkey and strawberry preserves and fruit cake, but +she remembered that I didn't eat much lunch, and +she is always trying to tempt my appetite. She's +the best old soul that evah was. Oh, Miss Sarah, +I'm so glad you came. I haven't had a pah'ty like +this for ages. Heah! I'll let you wiggle the tea-ball +in yoah own cup, so that you can make it as +strong as you like, because you're company."</p> + +<p>The dimples deepened playfully in her cheeks +as she passed the tea-ball across the table. Miss +Sarah smiled, although her eyes felt misty. "You +dear child!" she exclaimed. "That was Amanthis +Lloyd all over again. She never reached out and +gave pleasure to other people as if she were bestowing +a favour. She always made it seem as if it +were only her own pleasure which you were enhancing +by sharing. You don't know what an interest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +I have taken in you for her sake, as I've watched +you growing up here in the Valley. I used to hear +remarks about your temper and your imperious +ways, and day after day, as I've watched you ride +past the house beside your grandfather, sitting up +in the same straight, haughty way, I've thought +she's well named. She's the Colonel over again.</p> + +<p>"But to-day, in this old room, you are startlingly +like her in some way, I can hardly tell what." She +glanced up again at the portrait. "Your eyes look +at me in the same understanding sort of way. They +almost unseal the silence of twenty years. I have +never said this to any one else. But I used to look +at her sometimes and think that George Eliot must +have meant her when she wrote in her 'Choir +Invisible' of one who could 'be to other souls the +cup of strength in some great agony.' She was +that to me. People always used to go to her with +their troubles."</p> + +<p>Lloyd bent over her cup, her face flushing. +"Then I'm so glad you think I'm even a little bit +like her," she said, softly. "Nobody evah told +me that befoah. I've always wanted to be."</p> + +<p>The thought gave her a glow of pleasure all +through the meal. Long after Miss Sarah went +away, warmed and quickened in heart as well as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +body, it lingered with her. Afterward it prompted +her to pause before the portrait with a questioning +glance into the clear eyes above her.</p> + +<p>"'The cup of strength to other souls in some +great agony,'" she repeated. "And you were that! +Oh, I would love to be, too, if I didn't have to +suffer too much first to learn how to sympathize and +comfort. Maybe that is what I am to learn from +this wintah's disappointment,—a way to help +othah people beah their disappointments. If I +could do that," she whispered, looking wistfully +at the face above her, "if only one person in the +world could remembah me as Miss Sarah remembahs +<i>you</i>, you beautiful Grandmothah Amanthis, +it would be worth all the misahable time I have +had."</p> + +<p>Then she turned suddenly and went into the +library to look for the poem Miss Sarah had quoted. +She had never taken the volume from the shelves +before. She did not care for poetry as Betty did, +and it took her some time to find the lines she was +looking for. But when she found them, she took +the book back to the drawing-room, and read the +page again and again, with a quick bounding of +the pulses as she realized that here in words was +the ambition which she had often felt vaguely stirring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +within her. Even if she could not reach the +highest ones, and be "the cup of strength," or +"make undying music in the world," she could at +least attempt the other aims it held forth. She +could at least try "to ease the burden of the world." +She could live "in scorn for miserable aims that +end with self."</p> + +<p>With the book open on her lap, and her hands +clasped around her knees, she sat looking steadily +into the fire. She did not know what a long, long +step she was taking out of childhood that afternoon, +nor that the sweet seriousness of her new purpose +shone in her upturned face. But when the old +Colonel came into the room and found her sitting +there in the firelight, he paused and then glanced +up at the portrait. He was almost startled by the +striking resemblance,—a likeness of expression +that he had never noticed before.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>"CINDERELLA"</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lloyd</span> sat on the window-seat of the stair-landing, +looking out on the bare February landscape. +She was thinking of the poem she had learned three +weeks before, on the afternoon of Miss Sarah's +visit, and it made her dissatisfied. When one was +all a-tingle, as she had been, with a high purpose +to help ease the burden of the world and make undying +music in it, and when one longed to do big, +heroic deeds and had ambitions high enough to +reach the stars, it was hard to be content with the +commonplace opportunities that came her way.</p> + +<p>The things she had been doing seemed so paltry. +To carry a glass of jelly to the Crisps, a pot of +pink hyacinths to Miss Marietta, to write a letter +for Aunt Cindy, to sit for an hour with Mrs. Bisbee,—these +all were so trivial and pitifully small +that she felt a sense of disgust with herself and +her efforts. Yawning and swinging her foot, she +sat in the window-seat several minutes longer, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +started aimlessly up-stairs to her room. In the +upper hall the door leading into the attic stairway +stood open, and for no reason save that she had +nothing else to do, she began to mount the steps. +She had not been up in the attic since Christmas +week, when she and Rob had gone to finish his +Christmas hunt.</p> + +<p>She stood looking around her an instant, then, +moved by some unaccountable impulse, drew out +the chest containing the fancy-dress costumes they +had used in so many plays and tableaux. One by +one she shook them out and hung them over Rob's +headless hobby-horse, when she had finished examining +them. There were the velvet knickerbockers +and blouse she had worn as Little Boy Blue at +the Hallowe'en party at the Seminary. There was +Betty's Dresden Shepherdess dress, and the godmother's +gown, and the long trailing robe of the +Princess Winsome. Even the little tulle dress she +had worn as the Queen of Hearts at Ginger's Valentine +party, years ago, came out of the chest as +she dived deeper into its contents, and a star-spangled +costume of red, white, and blue, in which she +had fluttered as the Goddess of Liberty one Fourth +of July.</p> + +<p>Slippers and buckles and plumes, fans and gloves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +and artificial flowers, were piled up all around her. +The hobby-horse was hidden under a drapery of +velvet and lace and silk. Still the chest held a number +of old party gowns that had never been cut +down to fit their childish revels.</p> + +<p>As Lloyd shook them out, thinking of the gay +scenes they had been a part of, the picture of Agnes +Waring in her worn jacket and shabby shoes +flashed across her mind, followed by Mrs. Bisbee's +remark: "She's never had any of the pleasures +that most girls have. Twenty-five years old, and +to my certain knowledge she's never had a beau +or been to a big party, or travelled farther than +Louisville."</p> + +<p>Lloyd pressed her lips together and stood staring +at the old finery around her, thinking hard. A +sudden vision had come to her of this modern Cinderella, +and of herself as the fairy godmother. Her +eyes shone and her cheeks grew pink as she stood +pondering. If she could only make an occasion, +it would be easy enough to provide the coach and +the costume, even the glass slippers. There lay a +pair of white satin ones, beaded in tiny crystal +beads that shone like dewdrops. Suppose she +should play godmother and send Agnes to a ball. +Suppose the shy, timid girl should look so fine in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +her fine feathers that people would stare at her and +wonder who that beautiful creature was. Suppose +a prince should be there who never would have +noticed her but for the magic glass slippers, and +then suppose—</p> + +<p>Lloyd did not put the rest of the delightful daydream +into words, but just stood thinking about +it a long time, until her expression grew very sweet +and tender over a little romance which she dreamed +might grow out of her plan to give Agnes pleasure.</p> + +<p>"If I only had thought of it in time to have had +a Valentine pah'ty," she exclaimed aloud, "that +would have been the very thing. But it is too late +now. This is the seventeenth." Then she clasped +her hands delightedly as that date suggested another. +"It is five days till Washington's Birthday. +Maybe there will be time to get up a Martha Washington +affair. I'll ask Miss Allison about it this +very night at choir practice. She always has so +many new ideas."</p> + +<p>Tumbling the costumes back into the trunk, +helter-skelter, she danced down the stairs, impatient +to tell her mother about it. But there were +guests in the library who had been invited to spend +the afternoon and stay to dinner, and Lloyd had +no opportunity to speak of the subject that was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +uppermost in her thoughts. Immediately after dinner +she excused herself, to slip into her red coat +and furs, while Mom Beck lighted the lantern they +were to carry.</p> + +<p>It was only a short distance to the Mallard place, +where the choir was to meet that week, so they did +not need Alec's escort this time. The wind flared +their lantern as they went along the quiet country +road. They could see other lights bobbing along +toward them, and, as they neared the gate, Lloyd +recognized Mrs. Walton's voice. She and Miss +Allison were coming up with their brother Harry.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Lloyd?" called Mrs. Walton, as +they drew nearer. "I hoped you would come early, +for I have a letter from the girls that I know you +will want to read. They are full of preparations +for a grand affair to be given on the twenty-second,—a +Martha Washington reception. As usual, +Kitty wants to depart from the accustomed order +of things, and have a costume in George's honour, +instead of Martha's. She says why not, as long +as it is his birthday. She's painted a picture of +the dress she has concocted for the occasion. It +is green tarlatan dotted all over with little silver +paper hatchets, and trimmed with garlands and +bunches of artificial cherries."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you brought the pictuah with +you to-night!" exclaimed Lloyd. "And I'm wild +to see the lettah. Kitty always writes such funny +ones. And I'm glad I met you out heah befoah +the choir practice begins. I want to ask you about +a celebration I have been planning. It's for Agnes +Waring," she explained, catching step with them +as they turned in at the gate. "So of co'se I can't +talk about it befoah all the othah people.</p> + +<p>"I happened to be looking ovah a chest of old +costumes to-day, thinking of all the fun we'd had +in them, when I remembahed her and what Mrs. +Bisbee had told me about her nevah having good +times like othah girls. She said she'd nevah had +any attention, and nevah been to a big pah'ty. I +thought I'd like to give her one on the twenty-second, +because I could offah her a costume then +without hurting her feelings. I was suah that you +and Miss Allison could suggest something moah +than I had thought of. I don't know exactly how +to begin. People will think it strange, and Agnes +might, too, if I gave a pah'ty just for her, when all +her friends whom I would want to invite are so +much oldah than I."</p> + +<p>Miss Allison and her sister exchanged glances +in the lantern-light, then Mrs. Walton said, hesitatingly:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +"Why—I don't know—I'm sorry, +Lloyd, that we didn't know before. We've already +made plans which I am afraid will interfere with +yours. The King's Daughters' Circle has arranged +to have an oyster supper at my house on the afternoon +and evening of the twenty-second. Most of +the people you would want to ask will be busy there, +for everybody in the Valley lends a hand at these +entertainments."</p> + +<p>They could not see the disappointment that shadowed +Lloyd's face as she listened to this announcement +in silence. But Miss Allison knew it was +there, and, as they walked on up the path together, +she slipped her arm around Lloyd's waist.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear," she said. "You shall not +have your beautiful plan spoiled by the old oyster +supper. We'll combine forces. As Agnes is a +member of the Circle, maybe you can bring about +what you want more naturally and easily this way +than in any other. The girls who are to wait on +the table are to powder their hair and wear white +kerchiefs and Martha Washington caps. But we +had intended to ask you to take charge of the fancy-work +table, as you have more time for getting up +elaborate costumes. We wanted to ask you to +dress in as handsome a costume of that period as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +you could find. We remember what lovely brocade +gowns and quilted petticoats and old-fashioned fol-de-rols +used to be laid away in your grandmother's +attic that belonged to <i>her</i> grandmother. If you +like, you may give your place to Agnes, and let +her be the belle of the ball."</p> + +<p>Lloyd returned the pressure of the arm about +her with an impulsive hug. "Oh, I <i>knew</i> you'd +think of something perfectly lovely," she cried. +"That would be much the best way, for she is so +timid and quiet you couldn't keep her from being +a wall-flowah at an ordinary pah'ty. But this way +she will have something to do, and she'll have to +talk when people come to buy things. I wish it +were not so long till to-morrow! I want to tell +her about it this minute."</p> + +<p>Usually the choir practice was a bore to Lloyd. +She was one of the few members who sang by note, +and Mrs. Walton, the leader, had to take them +through the simple anthems over and over again, +until they caught the tune by ear. Lloyd, knowing +that her strong young voice was needed, sang dutifully +through the tiresome repetitions, but sometimes +she wanted to put her fingers in her ears to +shut out the sound. To-night she did not chafe +inwardly at the false starts and the monotonous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +chant, "Oh, be thankful! Oh, be thankful!" which +had to be sung over numberless times in order that +the bass and alto singers might learn to come in +at the proper places with their responsive refrain. +She was so absorbed in thinking of the pleasure in +store for Agnes, and imagining what she would +say, that she sang the three measures over and over, +unheeding how long the choir stuck there, or uncaring +how many times they seesawed up and down +on the same tiresome notes.</p> + +<p>The excitement began for Agnes next day, when +Lloyd delivered Miss Allison's invitation, and bore +her away in the carriage to search through the attic +for a costume. She had never been farther than the +door at Locust. Her journeys thither had been to +carry home some finished garment. But many an +hour of patient sewing had been brightened by her +sisters' tales of the place. Both Miss Sarah and +Miss Marietta remembered it affectionately, for the +sake of the woman who had welcomed them there +on so many happy occasions in the past.</p> + +<p>Agnes thought she knew just how the interior +of Locust would look, especially the stately old +drawing-room, with its portraits and candles, its +harp and the faint odour of rose-leaves; and really +there was something familiar to her in its appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +as she caught a glimpse of it on her way up-stairs +to Lloyd's room. But she had never imagined +such a dainty rose of a room as the pink and +white bower Lloyd led her into. There might have +been a throb of resentment that all such beauty and +luxury had been left out of her life, if there had +been time for her to look around and compare it +with her own scantily furnished room at home.</p> + +<p>Lloyd hurried over to the bed, eager to display +a gorgeous brocade gown of rose and silver laid +out there, which Mrs. Sherman had brought down +from the attic in her absence, and from which Mom +Beck had pressed all the wrinkles.</p> + +<p>"It's as good as new," said Lloyd. "I'm glad +that mothah wouldn't let us cut it up last yeah, +when we wanted to make it fit Katie. There are +pink slippahs to match, but I hoped you'd rathah +weah these. They make me think of Cinderella's +glass ones, and they're twice as pretty."</p> + +<p>She tossed the crystal beaded slippers over to +Agnes for her inspection. "Try them on," she +urged. "I want to see how you'll look."</p> + +<p>In a few moments the shabby shoes and the old +brown dress lay in a heap on the floor like a discarded +chrysalis, and Agnes stepped out, a dazzled +butterfly, in her gorgeous robes of rose and silver.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lloyd clasped her hands ecstatically. "Oh, +Agnes, it's <i>lovely!</i> And it's almost a perfect fit. +If Miss Sarah can just take it up a little on the +shouldahs, and change the collah a tiny bit, it will +look as if it were made for you. When yoah hair +is powdahed and you have this little bunch of +plumes in it, you'll be simply perfect. It doesn't +mattah if the slippahs do pinch a little. They look +so pretty you can stand a little thing like that for +one evening."</p> + +<p>Lloyd walked around and around her, till she +had admired her to her heart's content, and then +led her away to show to Mrs. Sherman. "You +ought to carry yoah head that way all the time," +she said. "It's becoming to you to 'walk proud,' +as old Mammy Easter used to say."</p> + +<p>It was with the air of a duchess that Agnes sailed +into the drawing-room, and with the feeling that +at last she had come into her own. On every side +the dim old mirrors flashed back the reflection of +the slender figure with its head proudly high. She +looked at it curiously, scarcely recognizing the delicate, +high-bred features for her own. There was +colour in her face for one thing. The dull browns +and grays, which she wore for economy's sake, were +apt to make her look sallow. But this wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +rose-pink lent a glow to her cheeks, and pleasure +and expectancy brightened her eyes, and left her +a-tingle with these new sensations.</p> + +<p>"You'll be the feature of the occasion," Mrs. +Sherman assured her. "Come up to lunch with +us Thursday. We'll powder your hair and help +you dress, and take you down in the carriage with +us. Tell your sisters that we'll see that you get +home safely that night."</p> + +<p>So to the other pleasures of the twenty-second +was added the undreamed-of delight of being +invited out to lunch, and forgetting for +awhile that there were such tiresome things in the +world as sewing-machines and endless ruffling for +other people. Although she wore her old brown +dress, darned at the elbows, and, with her usual +timidity, scarcely ventured a remark at the table +unless directly questioned, she was all aglow with +the new experience.</p> + +<p>Afterward it was easy to talk and laugh with +Lloyd, as they went through the conservatory cutting +the flowers which were to decorate the tables +at The Beeches. Hyacinths and lilies-of-the-valley +made a spring-time of their own under the sheltering +skylight. Agnes bent over them with a cry of delight. +"They make you forget the calendar, don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +they?" she said, looking shyly up at Lloyd. She +wanted to add, "And so do you. You make me +forget that I am ten years older than you. It seems +only pussy-willow time by my feelings to-day." +But their friendship was too new as yet for such +personal speeches.</p> + +<p>As they went back to the drawing-room with +a basket piled full of hothouse blooms, Mrs. Sherman +called to Lloyd that she needed her up-stairs +a few moments. Hastily excusing herself, she left +Agnes with a new magazine for her entertainment. +When she came down later, the magazine was lying +uncut on the table, and Agnes, seated in front of +the piano, was fingering the keys with light touches +which made no sound, they pressed the ivory so +gently. She started guiltily as Lloyd came in.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it!" she stammered. "It drew +me over here like a magnet. It has been the dream +of my life to know how to play, but it is all such +a mystery. I've puzzled over the music in the +hymn-book many a time, the little notes flying up +and down like birds through a fence, and then +watched Miss Allison's fingers on the organ keys, +going up and down the same way."</p> + +<p>"It is just as easy as reading the alphabet," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +Lloyd. "I'll show you. Wait till I find my old +music primer. It is somewhere in this cabinet."</p> + +<p>Hastily turning over the exercise books and worn +sheets of music that filled one of the lower shelves, +she dragged out an old dog-eared instruction book, +which she propped up on the rack in front of Agnes.</p> + +<p>"Heah," she said, pointing to a note. "When +one of those little birds, as you call them, perches +on this place on the fence, then you're to strike +the A key on the piano. If it lights on the line +just above it, then you strike the next key, B. +See?" She ran her fingers lightly up the octavo +and began again with A. Agnes leaned hungrily +over the page, reading the printed directions below +each simple measure, where the fingering was +plainly marked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could learn to do it by studying this!" +she cried, her face all alight. "I am sure I could. +I don't mean that I could ever learn to play as you +do, or Miss Allison, but I could learn simple things +and the accompaniments to old songs that Marietta +loves. It would be almost as great a joy to her +and sister Sarah as it would to me, for my learning +to play has always been one of our favourite +air-castles. If you could loan me this instruction +book for awhile—" She hesitated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of co'se!" cried Lloyd, thrilled by the eagerness +of the eyes which met hers. "I'll give you +a lesson right now, if you like. I'll teach you +a set of chords you can use for an accompaniment. +They are so easy you can learn them befoah you +go home, and you can surprise Miss Marietta by +singing and playing for her. They fit evah so many +of the ballads."</p> + +<p>Turning the leaves of the instructor, she found +the simple chords of "Annie Laurie," and wrote +beside each note the letters that would enable Agnes +to find them on the keyboard. "This isn't the +right way to begin," she said, with a laugh, "but +we'll take this short cut just to surprise Miss Marietta. +You can come back aftahward and learn +about time and all the othah things that ought to +come first. I'll give you a lesson every week for +awhile, if you like."</p> + +<p>The eyes that met hers now were brimming with +happy tears.</p> + +<p>"If I like," Agnes repeated, with a tremulous +catch of the voice. "As if I wouldn't jump at the +chance to have the key to paradise put into my +hands. It's the happiest thing that ever happened +to me."</p> + +<p>With her heart as well as her whole attention<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +given to the effort, it was not long before Agnes +found her fingers falling naturally into place, and +she played the chords over and over, humming the +tune softly, with a pleasure that was pathetic to +Lloyd.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could keep on all day and all night!" +exclaimed Agnes, when Mrs. Sherman called to +them that it was time to dress. "I've never been +so happy in all my life! You don't know what it +means to me!" she cried, turning a radiant face +to Lloyd's. "You've lifted me clear off the earth. +I wish I could run home before the reception begins +and play this for Marietta. I want to see her face +when I open the old piano."</p> + +<p>Lloyd followed her up the stairs, wondering at +the girl's uplifted mood. She did not see how such +a trifle could bring about such a transformation +in any one's spirits, not realizing that this bit of +knowledge which Agnes had picked up was to her +a veritable key which would open the door she had +longed for years to enter.</p> + +<p>When Agnes swept into the house at The +Beeches, she was in such high spirits that people +looked twice to be sure that they knew the radiant +girl presiding so gaily over the fancy-work table.</p> + +<p>"She is actually talking," Miss McGill whispered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +to Libbie Simms. "Talking and laughing +and making jokes like other girls. Somebody has +surely worked a hoodoo charm on her."</p> + +<p>But happiness was the only hoodoo, and, under +its expanding influence, she fairly bloomed that +night. Lloyd, hovering near her, jubilant over the +success of her popular Cinderella, beamed and dimpled +with pleasure, and stored away the many compliments +she overheard, to repeat to Agnes next +day. Once she darted into the butler's pantry, +where Miss Allison was slicing cake, to announce, +in an excited whisper: "Agnes has actually had +three invitations to suppah. She's gone in now +with Mistah John Bond. I must run back and take +charge of the sales, but I just had to tell you. Do +peep in and see her there at the cawnah table, eating +ice-cream and talking away as if she'd been +used to such attentions all her life. Isn't it great? +Now people can't shake their heads and say poah +girl, she's nevah had any attentions like othah girls. +Nobody takes any interest in her."</p> + +<p>Miss Allison turned to give Lloyd's cheek a playful +pinch. "You dear little fairy godmother! All +Cranford will take an interest in her, now that she +has blossomed out so unexpectedly. Even old Mr. +Wade, who never says nice things about any one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +asked me who our distinguished-looking guest was, +and, when I told him Agnes Waring, he fairly +gasped and dropped his eye-glasses. Then he gave +his usual contemptuous sniff that always makes +me want to shake him, and walked away, saying: +'Who'd have thought it! Well, well, fine feathers +certainly do make fine birds!'"</p> + +<p>Lloyd hurried back to her place behind the fancy-work +table. Nearly every one was out in the room +where supper was being served, and except for an +occasional question from some one who strolled by +to ask the price of a laundry-bag or a hemstitched +centrepiece, no one disturbed her. To the music +of mandolin, guitar, and piano, played softly behind +the palms in one corner, she went on with her pleasing +day-dreams for Agnes. She would make other +opportunities for her next week, take her in town +to a concert or a matinée. She wished she could +offer her clothes, but she dared not take that step. +There would be the Waring pride to reckon with +if she did.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this reverie, Agnes came up all +a-flutter, saying, shyly: "Lloyd, would you mind +if I didn't go back in the carriage with you? Your +mother wouldn't think it strange, would she? It +was because I had no other way to get home that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +she invited me. But Mr. Bond has asked to take +me home behind his new team. He wants me to +see what fine travellers his horses are."</p> + +<p>"Of co'se mothah wouldn't think it strange!" +exclaimed Lloyd. "Especially if it is Mistah Bond +who wants to take you. She and Papa Jack are +so fond of him."</p> + +<p>"He wants me to join the choir," Agnes went +on, in a lower tone, as a group of people crowded +around the table. "Mrs. Walton and Mrs. Mallard +and Miss Flora Marks have asked me also. +I've pinched myself black and blue this evening, +trying to make sure that I am awake. Oh, Lloyd, +you'll never, never know how I have enjoyed it +all."</p> + +<p>There was no time for further conversation then. +People were beginning to leave, and were crowding +around the table to claim the articles they had purchased +earlier in the evening. But it was not necessary +for Agnes to repeat that she was radiantly +happy. It showed in every word and laugh and +gesture. Lloyd went home that night nearer to +the Castle of Content than she had been for many +weeks.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>A HARD-EARNED PEARL</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> reaction came next day, however, when a +budget of letters from the girls turned her thoughts +back to all that she was missing. Betty was rooming +with Juliet Lynn now, and they were writing +a play together in spare minutes. Allison had had +honourable mention three times in the Studio Bulletin, +and a number of her sketches had been chosen +for display on the studio walls. Kitty had surprised +them all by the interest she had suddenly +taken in French, and had translated a poem so +cleverly that Monsieur Blanc had sent it home for +publication in a Paris paper. The work was so +interesting now, Betty wrote, and the time so full, +Warwick Hall grew daily more inspiring and more +dear.</p> + +<p>The old ache came back to Lloyd as she read. +She felt that she had fallen hopelessly behind the +others. She was so utterly left out of all their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +successes. The little efforts she had made to fill +her days with things worth while suddenly shrivelled +into nothing, and she sat with the letters in +her lap, staring moodily into vacancy.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" she sobbed. "All that I +can do heah doesn't amount to a row of pins. I +am out of it."</p> + +<p>Thinking of Warwick Hall and the girls and +all that she was missing, she sat pitying herself +until the tears began to come. She let them trickle +slowly down her face without attempting to wipe +them away or fight them back. Nobody was there +to see, and she could be as miserable as she chose. +In the midst of her gloomy reverie she heard the +door-bell ring.</p> + +<p>Dabbing her handkerchief over her eyes, she +started across the room to make her escape up-stairs +before Mom Beck could open the front door. +But she was too late. As she pushed aside the portières, +she heard Agnes Waring ask if she were at +home, and Mom Beck immediately ushered her in.</p> + +<p>"I came to bring the costume back," she began, +hurriedly. "No, I must not sit down, thank you. +I am on my way to Mrs. Moore's to fit a lining. +But I just had to stop by and tell you what a lovely +time I had yesterday and last night. You should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +have seen Marietta's face this morning when I +opened the piano and played and sang for her. +The tears just rolled down her face, but it was +because we were so happy.</p> + +<p>"She said she had been afraid that I would grow +morose and bitter because I had so few pleasures, +and she is so glad about the music lessons and my +joining the choir. Mr. Bond is going to come by +for me next Friday night. Sister Sarah said she +had no idea that colours could make such a difference +in one till she saw me in that costume. She +has been looking over the silk quilt pieces your +mother sent Marietta, and she recognized two pieces +that are parts of dresses your grandmother used +to wear. One is a deep rich red,—a regular garnet +colour, and the other is sapphire blue. She said +that if they had belonged to any one else but Amanthis +Lloyd she couldn't do it,—but instead of cutting +them up into quilt pieces she—she is going +to make them into shirt-waists for me."</p> + +<p>The colour deepened in Agnes's face as she made +the confession, with an unconscious lifting of the +head that made Lloyd remember Mrs. Bisbee's remark +about the Waring pride. She hastened to +say something to cover the awkward pause that +followed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Grandmothah Amanthis and Miss Sarah were +such good friends, even if there was so much difference +in their ages. I know she would be glad +for you to use the silk that way. Looking pretty +in it and having good times in it seems a bettah +way to use it as a remembrance of her than putting +it into a quilt, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>Then, to change the subject, which disconcerted +her more than it did Agnes, she held up the package +of letters.</p> + +<p>"I heard from the girls to-day, and they are all +getting on so beautifully, and making such good +records, that it neahly breaks my hah't to think +I can't be with them." She laughed nervously. +"I suppose you wondahed what made my eyes so +red, when you came in. I've been regularly howling. +I couldn't help it. I sat heah thinking about +deah old Warwick Hall, and all that I had to give +up, till I was so misahable I <i>had</i> to cry."</p> + +<p>Agnes, turning toward the window so that her +face could not be seen, looked out at the bare +branches of the locusts.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she began, slowly, "if it would +make any difference to you—if it would make your +disappointment any easier to bear—to know how +much your being in the Valley this winter has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +meant to me. Fifty years from now one term more +or less in your studies won't amount to much. It +will not count much then that you've solved a few +more problems in algebra, or learned a little more +French, or fallen behind the others in a few credit +marks, but it will make all the difference in the +world to me that you were here to open a door +for me.</p> + +<p>"If you've done nothing more than give me that +one music lesson, it has showed me the possibility +of all that I may accomplish, and started me on the +road to my heart's desire. If you've done no more +than prove to me that I can conquer my timidity +and be like other girls, and accept the little pleasures +just at hand for the taking, don't you see that +you have opened up a way for me that I never could +have found alone? And to do that for any one, +why, it's like teaching him a song that he will teach +to some one else, and that one will go on repeating, +and the next and the next, until you've started something +that never stops. If I were making up the +accounts in the Hereafter, I am very sure I'd count +it more to your credit,—the unselfish way you are +helping people than all the lessons you could learn +in a term at school. I am not saying half what I +feel. I couldn't. It is too deep down. But, oh,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +I do want you to know that your disappointment +has not all been in vain."</p> + +<p>The voice that uttered the last sentence was +tremulous with feeling. Tears were very near the +surface now. Before Lloyd could think of any +reply to her impetuous speech, she had started +toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Moore will wonder what is keeping me," +she said, as she turned the knob. "Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>With a lighter heart than Lloyd could have believed +possible half an hour earlier, she went up to +her room. Dropping the damp little ball of a handkerchief +into her laundry-bag, she opened a drawer +for a fresh one. By mistake she drew out, not +her handkerchief-box, but one that in some previous +haste had been pushed into its place,—the +sandalwood box containing the pearl beads. She +took up the uncompleted rosary and began slipping +the beads back and forth over the string,—the +string that would have been two-thirds full by this +time if she could have gone on with school work. +Suddenly she looked at it with widening eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wondah," she said aloud, "I wondah if I +couldn't slip one moah on for yestahday. She said +herself that it ought to count for moah than school +work. In a way she said it was like making 'undying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +music in the world.' And what was it old +Bishop Chartley said at the carol service?" She +stood with a little pucker on her forehead, trying +to recall his words about keeping the White +Feast.</p> + +<p>"So may we offer our pearls, days unstained by +selfishness." That was it. She could go on with +her rosary then, and, instead of perfect lessons at +school, she could fill the string in token of days +spent unselfishly at home. Days not stained by +regrets and tears and idle repining for what could +not be helped.</p> + +<p>With a deep sigh of satisfaction, she slipped one +more pearl bead down the string, and laid it back +in the box.</p> + +<p>"That is for yestahday. I can't count to-day, +for I sat for an houah thinking about my troubles +and pitying myself and making myself just as misahable +as possible."</p> + +<p>So the little string began to grow again, and, +though she was half-ashamed of the childish pleasure +it gave her, it did help when she could see every +night a visible token that she had tried to live that +'day through unselfishly and well,—that she had +kept tryst with the duty of cheerfulness which we +all owe the world.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 337px;"> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="337" height="500" alt=""SHE RODE OVER TO ROLLINGTON"" title=""SHE RODE OVER TO ROLLINGTON"" /> +<span class="caption">"SHE RODE OVER TO ROLLINGTON"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>But not all her pearls were earned as easily as +the one that marked her efforts for Agnes. One +day, when she rode over to Rollington with some +illustrated magazines for the Crisp children, she +was met by an announcement from Minnie, the +oldest one, who had charge of the family in her +mother's absence.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Perkins said I was to tell you she didn't +see why folks passed her by when she liked wine +jelly and good things just as well as some other +people she knew."</p> + +<p>"Who is Mrs. Perkins?" asked Lloyd, astonished +by such a message.</p> + +<p>Minnie nodded her towhead toward a weather-beaten +house of two rooms across the street. "She +lives over there. She's sick most of the time. She +saw you cooking in our kitchen that day that you +came and got dinner, and ma sent her over a piece +of the pie you made, and she's been sort of sniffy +ever since, because nobody does such things for +her."</p> + +<p>Minnie seemed so anxious that Lloyd should +include Mrs. Perkins in her visit that finally Lloyd +agreed to be escorted over to see her. Wrapping +the baby in a shawl, and staggering along under +its weight, Minnie ordered the other children to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +stay where they were, and led the way across the +street.</p> + +<p>The tilt of Lloyd's dainty nose, as she went in, +said more plainly than words, "Poah white trash!" +For the house had a stuffy smell of liniment and +bacon grease. An old woman came forward to +meet them in her stocking feet and a dirty woollen +wrapper. Her uncombed gray hair straggled +around her ears, and her wrinkled face was unwashed +and grimy. Lloyd was thankful that she +did not offer to shake hands. She sat down on +the edge of a chair, breathing the stuffy air as +sparingly as possible.</p> + +<p>She had always been taught that old age must +be respected, no matter how unlovely, and as Mrs. +Perkins counted her aches and pains in a weak, +whining voice, pity got the better of Lloyd's disgust. +She began to feel sorry for this poor old +creature, for whom no one else seemed to have any +sympathy. She complained bitterly of her neighbours +and the church-members who professed to +be so charitable, but who left her to suffer.</p> + +<p>Then she praised the lemon pie that Lloyd had +made, until Lloyd gladly promised to make one +for her. "I'll bring it down the last of the week," +she promised, later, when she rose to go, and Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +Perkins introduced the subject again. But that +was not what the old woman wanted.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you come down here and make it +in my kitchen?" she whined, "same as you did +in Mrs. Crisp's. I get dreadful lonesome setting +here, and it would be so much company to see you +whisking around beating eggs and rolling out +the crust. Then I could smell it baking, and eat +it hot out of the oven. It's been many a long day +since I've done a thing like that. It makes my +mouth water, just thinking of it."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I could do it heah, if you would +like it bettah," promised Lloyd, rashly. "Is there +anything I can do for you befoah I go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is," was the ready answer. "I +didn't eat much dinner, and I'm that weak and +faint I'd like if you'd make me a cup of tea."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," answered Lloyd again. "If you'll +just tell me where to find things."</p> + +<p>"I'll be going on," said Minnie Crisp, beginning +to wrap the baby up in its shawl again. +"Those kids will be turning the house upside +down if I'm not there to watch them."</p> + +<p>Nobody paid any attention to her departure, for +Lloyd, hanging her coat over the back of a dusty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +chair, had gone into the kitchen before Minnie +finished making a woollen mummy of the baby.</p> + +<p>"The tea is in a paper bag in the corner cupboard," +called Mrs. Perkins. "Mrs. Moore sent +it to me. It's green tea, and I never did care for +any kind but black. I'd pretty nigh as soon have +none as green. You might poach me an egg, too, +if you feel like it, and make a bit of toast."</p> + +<p>With a shiver of disgust, Lloyd looked around +her. Everything was dirty. She wished she dared +run across the street and prepare the lunch in Mrs. +Crisp's immaculate kitchen. There everything +shone from repeated scrubbings with soft soap and +sand. She enjoyed cooking over there. As she +opened the cupboard door a roach ran out, and +she jumped aside with another shiver of disgust. +She wanted a pan in which to poach the egg, but +nothing looked clean enough to use. Finally she +chose a battered saucepan, but dropped it when +she discovered that a spider had woven a web inside.</p> + +<p>Spiders had always been an abomination to +Lloyd. It made her feel cold and creepy to touch +a cobweb. But the story of Ederyn flashed through +her thoughts, and she grasped the pan, determined +to use it or die in the effort. She had started and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +she would not turn back. It was plainly her duty +to minister to the wants of this complaining old +invalid whom others neglected, and she would keep +tryst at any cost. With many an inward shudder +she went on with her task. As the water in the +kettle was already steaming, it was not long before +the lunch was ready, and she carried it in.</p> + +<p>"It's simply impossible for me to come and make +the pie in this dirty kitchen," thought Lloyd, "and +I can't tell her so. Maybe I could ask Mrs. Crisp +to invite her ovah and she could see it done +there."</p> + +<p>While she worried over the problem of introducing +the subject tactfully, Mrs. Perkins herself +opened the way. She hadn't been well enough to +do any cleaning for several weeks, she said. If +she could get a little stronger, she intended to do +two things: to slick up the place a bit, and to go +on a visit to Jane O'Grady's up near the black +bridge. She had been wanting to spend the day +with Jane all winter, but didn't have any way to +get there. It was too far to walk. Lloyd saw her +opportunity and seized it.</p> + +<p>"Why, mothah will send the carriage for you, +Mrs. Perkins, any day you set. She'd be glad to. +Alec can drive you ovah early in the mawning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +when he is out for the marketing, and go for you +befoah dah'k."</p> + +<p>"Then you may send to-morrow," said Mrs. +Perkins, ungraciously. "I don't want to risk putting +it off. Folks usually forget such promises +overnight. So I'd best make sure of it."</p> + +<p>Lloyd flushed angrily, but the next instant excused +the old woman's rudeness on the score of +her ill health. She had a plan that she was anxious +to carry out, and she hurried home to begin, all +a-tingle with her charitable impulses. She was surprised +that her mother should treat it so lightly.</p> + +<p>"Of course you can have the carriage," said +Mrs. Sherman. "But, my good little Samaritan, +I must warn you. That old woman is a pauper in +spirit. She hasn't a particle of proper pride. People +have done too much for her. She'll take all +she can get, and grumble because it isn't more. So +you mustn't be disappointed if, instead of thanks, +you get only criticism."</p> + +<p>But Lloyd, full of the zeal of a true reformer, +danced down to the servants' quarters to find May +Lily, one of the cook's grandchildren. May Lily, +a neat-looking coloured girl of seventeen, had been +one of Lloyd's most loyal followers since they made +mud pies together on the Colonel's white door-steps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +and the readiness to serve her now was prompted +not so much by the promised dollar as the desire to +still follow her lead. So next morning, soon after +Mrs. Perkins's departure in the Sherman carriage, +a mighty revolution began in the house she left +behind her.</p> + +<p>May Lily, strong and willing, went to work like +a small cyclone. Under Lloyd's direction, she +swept and scrubbed and scoured. The bed was +aired, the stove was blacked, the windows washed, +the tins polished till they shone like new. By four +o'clock not a cobweb or a speck of dust was to +be seen in either room. Lloyd sat down to wait +for Mrs. Perkins's return. She felt that it was +safe to breathe now, and she did not have to sit +gingerly on the edge of the chair. Every piece of +furniture had been washed and rubbed. She could +keep her promise about the pie very comfortably +now. Everything smelled so clean and wholesome +to her that she was sure that Mrs. Perkins would +notice the change at once and be pleased.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins did notice the change the moment +she entered the door, but it was with a displeased +face. "Hm! Hm!" she sniffed. "Smells mightily +of soft soap in here. What have you been doing?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +I never could bear the smell of soft soap or +lye. Hm! Hm!"</p> + +<p>Then she turned accusingly on Lloyd. "Didn't +you know better than to put stove-blacking on that +stove? When it gets het up, it will smoke to fare-ye-well, +and start my asthma to going again full tilt. +Some folks are mighty thoughtless, never have no +consideration for other people."</p> + +<p>Lloyd shrank back, almost overcome by such a +reception. It was like a dash of cold water in her +face. She was angry and indignant.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Mrs. Perkins, still sniffing +around the room, as she put her bonnet and shawl +away. "Now you're here I'd like it if you would +put on the teakettle and make me a good strong +cup of coffee. Jane O'Grady gave me a pound, +all parched and ground. I haven't had any before +to-day for weeks. I'm plumb tuckered out with the +visit."</p> + +<p>Lloyd hurried to build up the fire, thankful that +May Lily had spent much time scouring the old +coffee-pot. Otherwise she could not have brought +herself to touch it. It shone like new now. As +she poured the water into it, three tiny streams +spurted out of the side, hissing and sputtering over +the stove.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now just see what you done!" scolded Mrs. +Perkins. "You hadn't ought to have scoured that +coffee-pot so. You'd ought to have let well enough +be, for you might have known you'd rub holes in +it and make it leak."</p> + +<p>"I'll get you a new one in place of it at once," +said Lloyd, stiffly, her indignation rising till she +could hardly speak calmly. "I'll go this minute."</p> + +<p>There was a small grocery store farther up the +hill, where a little of everything was kept in stock, +and Lloyd dashed out bareheaded, glad of an excuse +to cool her temper. By the time she had made the +coffee in the new pot, Alec drove up to the door +for her.</p> + +<p>"You'll come again to-morrow to make that +lemon pie, won't you?" asked Mrs. Perkins, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't come till the day aftah."</p> + +<p>"What? Thursday?" was the impatient answer. +"Time drags awful slow for a body that +can only sit and wait."</p> + +<p>"I have an engagement to-morrow," said Lloyd, +stiffly, remembering it was the day for Agnes Waring's +music lesson. "But you can depend on me +Thursday."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman only laughed when Lloyd repeated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +her day's adventure at home, but the old Colonel +fairly snorted with indignation.</p> + +<p>"Poor white trash!" he exclaimed. "Don't go +near her again!"</p> + +<p>"But I promised," answered Lloyd, dolefully. +"I must keep my promise."</p> + +<p>"Then tell Cindy to make a pie, and let Alec +take it down," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"No, she said she wanted to smell it cooking, +and to eat it hot out of the oven, and I promised +her she might."</p> + +<p>The Colonel glared savagely at the fire. "Beggars +shouldn't be choosers," he muttered, then +turned to Mrs. Sherman. "Little daughter, are +you going to let that poor child of yours be imposed +on by that creature?"</p> + +<p>"I can't interfere with her promise, papa," she +answered. "It may be a disagreeable experience, +but it will not hurt her any more than it hurt the +old woman to sweep the cobwebs out of the sky. +Hers was a thankless job, too, but no doubt she +was better for the exercise, and she must have +learned a great deal on such a trip."</p> + +<p>It was in the same spirit in which Ederyn cried, +"Oh, heart and hand of mine, keep tryst! Keep +tryst or die!" that Lloyd gathered up the necessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +materials and started off on Thursday to Mrs. Perkins's +cottage. This time there was no admiring +audience of little towheads tiptoeing around the +table, as there had been at Mrs. Crisp's. But everything +was clean, and, with her recipe spread out +before her, Lloyd followed directions to the letter.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins, watching the beating of eggs and +stirring of the golden filling, the deft mixing of +pastry, grew cheerful and entertaining. She forgot +to complain of her neighbours, and was surprised +into the telling of some of her girlish experiences +that actually brought an amused twinkle to her +sharp old eyes. Lloyd was vastly entertained. She +had, too, a virtuous feeling that in keeping her +promise she had given pleasure to one who rarely +met kindness. It gave her a warm inward glow +of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>To her mortification, when she finally drew the +pie from the oven, the meringue, which had been +like a snowdrift a moment before, and which should +have come out with just a golden glow on it from +its short contact with the heat, was all shrivelled +and brown.</p> + +<p>"The nasty little oven was too hot!" cried +Lloyd, in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Just my luck," whined Mrs. Perkins. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +might have known that I'd never get anything I +set my heart on. But you can scrape off the meringue, +and I'll try and make out with the plain +pie."</p> + +<p>Although she ate generously, she ate grumblingly, +disappointed because of the scorched meringue, +and it wasn't as sweet as she liked.</p> + +<p>That night, Lloyd, mortified over her failure, +stood long with the white rosary in her hand. +"Maybe I ought to count the poah pie as I would +an imperfect lesson," she thought, hesitating, with +a bead in her fingers. Then she said, defiantly: +"But I did my best, and the day has certainly been +disagreeable enough to deserve two pearls."</p> + +<p>After another moment of conscientious weighing +of the matter, she slipped the bead slowly down +the string. "There!" she exclaimed. "I suahly +went through the black watahs of Kilgore to get +that one."</p> + +<p>Next day when she stopped in Rollington to pay +for the coffee-pot, and drove by the Crisps' to ask +about the baby, Minnie Crisp told her several +things. Mrs. Perkins was sick all night, and had +told her ma that it was the lemon pie that was the +cause of the trouble; that it would have made a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +dog sick. "Them was her words," said Minnie, +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"I don't wondah!" cried Lloyd. "The greedy +old thing! There was enough for foah people, and +it was very rich, and she ate it all."</p> + +<p>"And she didn't like it because you had May +Lily scrub and clean while she was gone," added +Minnie, with childlike lack of tact. "She talked +about you dreadful after you went away. Didn't +she, ma?"</p> + +<p>"Shoo, Minnie!" answered Mrs. Crisp, with a +wave of her apron. "Don't tell all you know."</p> + +<p>"I didn't," answered the child. "I didn't say +a word about the names she called her,—meddlesome +Matty, and all that."</p> + +<p>Lloyd took her leave presently, with a flushed +face and a sore heart. On the way home she +stopped at The Beeches, and Mrs. Walton, who saw +at a glance that something was wrong, soon drew +out the story of her grievance.</p> + +<p>"Don't pay any attention to that old creature," +she said, laughing heartily, "and forgive my laughing. +Everybody in the Valley has had a similar +experience. The King's Daughters long ago gave +her up in disgust. She's one of those people who +doesn't want to be reformed and won't stay helped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +Her house will be just as dirty next week as when +you first went there."</p> + +<p>"I didn't suppose there were such people in the +world," said Lloyd, in disgust.</p> + +<p>"You'll find out all sorts of disagreeable things +as you get older," sighed Mrs. Walton. "It is one +of the penalties of growing up. But still it is good +to have such experiences, for the wiser we grow +the better we know how to 'ease the burden of the +world,' and that is what we are here for."</p> + +<p>Lloyd's eyes widened with surprise. Here was +another person quoting from the poem she had +learned. She was glad now that she had committed +it to memory, since on three occasions it had made +people's meaning clearer to her.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, the dimples stealing into +her smile. "But the next time I'll find out first +if they really want their burden eased, and if that +burden is dirt, like Mrs. Perkins's, I'll suahly let +it alone."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>"SWEET SIXTEEN"</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> red coat Lloyd wore that winter was long +remembered in the Valley, for wherever it went +it carried a bright face above it, a cheery greeting, +and some pleasant word that made the day seem +better for its passing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bisbee and the little Crisps were not the +only ones who learned to watch for it. As all the +lonely town of Hamelin must have felt toward the +one child left to it after the Pied Piper had passed +through its streets, so all the Valley turned with +tender regard to the young girl left in its midst. +Mothers, whose daughters were away at school, +stopped to talk to her with affectionate interest. +The old ladies whom she regularly visited welcomed +her as if she were a part of their vanished +youth. The young ladies took her under their +wing, glad to have her in the choir and the King's +Daughters' Circle, for she was bubbling over with +girlish enthusiasm and a sincere desire to help.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p> + +<p>So she found the cobwebs in the neighbourhood +sky, and disagreeable enough they were at times, +even more disagreeable than her experience with +Mrs. Perkins. But she swept away with praiseworthy +energy, till gradually she found that the +accumulation of outside interests, like the cobweb +strands which Ederyn twisted, made a rope strong +enough to lift her out of herself and her dungeon +of disappointment.</p> + +<p>After the novelty of giving music lessons had +worn off, it grew to be a bore. Not the lessons +themselves, for Agnes's delight in them never +flagged. It was the tied-up feeling it gave her to +remember that those afternoons were not her own. +It happened so often that the afternoons devoted +to Agnes were the ones which of all the week she +wanted to have free, and she had to give up many +small pleasures on account of them.</p> + +<p>It grew to be a bore, also, calling on some of +the people who claimed a weekly visit. She never +tired of Mrs. Bisbee's lively comments on her neighbours +and her interesting tales about them. But +there was old Mr. and Mrs. Apwall, who, with +nothing to do but sit on opposite sides of the fire +and look at each other, were said to quarrel like +cat and dog. It mortified Lloyd dreadfully to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +them quarrel in her presence, and have them pour +out their grievances for her to decide which was +in the wrong.</p> + +<p>She always rose to go at that juncture, flushed +and embarrassed, and vowing inwardly she would +never visit them again. But they always managed +to extract a promise before she got to the door +that she would drop in again the next time she +was passing.</p> + +<p>"Somehow you seem to get husband's mind off +himself," Mrs. Apwall would whisper at parting. +"He isn't half so touchy when you've cheered him +up a spell."</p> + +<p>And Mr. Apwall would follow her out through +the chilly hall to open the front door, and say, +huskily: "Come again, daughter. Come again. +Your visits seem to do the madam a world of good. +They give her something to talk about beside my +fancied failings."</p> + +<p>So inwardly groaning, Lloyd would go again, +painfully alert to keep the conversation away from +subjects that invariably led to disputes. And inwardly +groaning, she went dutifully to the Coburns' +at their repeated requests. The first few times the +garrulous old couple were interesting, but the most +thrilling tale grows tiresome when one has heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +it a dozen times. She could scarcely keep from +fidgeting in her chair when the inevitable story of +their feud with the Cayn family was begun. They +never left out a single petty detail.</p> + +<p>No one will ever know how often the thought +of the little rosary in the sandalwood box helped +Lloyd to listen patiently, and to keep tryst with the +expectations of those about her, so that at nightfall +there might be another pearl to slip on the +silken cord, in token of another day unstained by +selfishness.</p> + +<p>There was rarely time for envying the girls at +school now. The days were too full. Almost before +it seemed possible, the locusts were in bloom +and it was mid-May by the calendar. In that time +perfect health had come back to her. There were +no more crying spells now, no more hours of nervous +exhaustion, of fretful impatience over trifles. +She went singing about the house, with a colour +in her cheeks that rivalled the pink of the apple +blossoms.</p> + +<p>"Spring has come indoors as well as out," said +Mrs. Sherman one morning. "I think that we +may safely count that your Christmas vacation is +over, and you may go back to your music lessons +whenever you choose."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + +<p>The night before her birthday, Lloyd sat with +her elbows on her dressing-table, peering into the +mirror with a very serious face.</p> + +<p>"You'll be sixteen yeahs old in the mawning, +Lloyd Sherman," she told the girl in the glass. +"'Sweet sixteen!' You've come to the end of +lots of things, and to-morrow it will be like going +through a gate that you've seen ahead of you for +a long, long time. A big, wide gate that you have +looked forward to for yeahs, and things are bound +to be different on the othah side."</p> + +<p>Next morning, just in fun, she trailed down to +breakfast in one of her mother's white dresses, with +her hair piled on the top of her head. It was very +becoming so, but it made her look so tall and +womanly that she was sure her grandfather would +object to it.</p> + +<p>"He'll nevah let me grow up if he can help it," +she said, half-pouting, as she gave a final glance +over her shoulder at the mirror, vastly pleased with +her young ladylike appearance. "He'll say, 'Tut, +tut! That's not grandpa's Little Colonel.' But I +can't stay his Little Colonel always."</p> + +<p>She was standing by the window looking down +the locust avenue when he came in to breakfast, so +she did not see his start of surprise at sight of her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +But his half-whispered exclamation, "<i>Amanthis!</i>" +told her why he failed to make the speech she expected +to hear. With her hair done high, showing +the beautiful curve of her head and throat as +she stood half-turned toward him, he had caught +another glimpse of her startling resemblance to the +portrait. He could not regret losing his Little +Colonel if that loss were to give him a living reminder +of a beloved memory.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, when an armful of birthday gifts +had been duly admired and the donors thanked, +and she had spent nearly an hour enjoying them, +she strolled down the avenue, feeling very much +grown up with the long dress trailing behind her. +She wandered down to the entrance gate, hoping +to meet Alec, who had gone for the mail. She was +sure there would be a letter from Betty, for Betty +never forgot people's birthdays. Then she trailed +back again under the white arch of fragrant locust +blooms. At the half-way seat she sat down and +tucked a spray of the blossoms into her hair and +fastened another at her belt. She had not long +to wait there, enjoying the freshness of the sweet +May morning, for in a few minutes Alec came +up the avenue with a handful of letters and papers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +She sorted out her own eagerly, six letters and a +package.</p> + +<p>She opened Betty's first. It was a long one, ending +with a birthday greeting in rhyme, and enclosing +a handkerchief which she had made herself, +sheer and fine and daintily hemstitched, with her +initials embroidered in one corner in the smallest +letters possible.</p> + +<p>The letters from Allison and Kitty were profusely +illustrated all around the margins, and by +the time Lloyd had read them, and Gay's ridiculous +summary of school news, she felt as if she had been +on a visit to Warwick Hall, and had seen all the +girls. The next letter was from Joyce, a good +thick one. But before she read it, curiosity impelled +her to open the package, which was a flat +one, bearing a foreign postmark and several Italian +stamps. There were two photographs inside. She +slipped the uppermost one from its envelope.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is Eugenia Forbes!" she exclaimed +aloud. "But how she has changed!"</p> + +<p>The picture was not at all like the Eugenia whom +Lloyd remembered, the thin slip of a girl who had +raced up and down the avenue five years before +at her house-party. She had blossomed into a beautiful +young woman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A regulah Spanish beauty!" Lloyd thought, +as she looked at the picture, long and admiringly,—the +picture of a patrician face with great dark +eyes and a wealth of dusky hair. The old self-conscious, +dissatisfied expression was gone. It was +a happy face that smiled back at her. It had been +nearly a year since Lloyd had had a letter from +Eugenia. She had written from the school near +Paris that her father was on his way over from +America to join her and take her home immediately +after her graduation. Lloyd had sent a reply addressed +to her cousin Carl's office, but had heard +nothing more.</p> + +<p>Thinking that the other photograph was her +cousin Carl's, Lloyd unwrapped it, wondering if +he had changed as much as Eugenia. To her surprise, +it was not a middle-aged man she saw, with +gray moustache and kindly tired eyes. It was the +handsome boyish face of a stranger, yet so startlingly +familiar that she looked at it with a puzzled +frown.</p> + +<p>"Why should Eugenia be sending me this?" she +thought. "And where have I seen that man befoah?" +Then, "Phil Tremont!" she exclaimed +aloud the next instant. "That's who it reminds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +me of. It is almost exactly like him, only it is oldah-looking, +and the nose isn't quite like his."</p> + +<p>She turned the picture over. There on the back +was written in Eugenia's hand the word Venice, +and a date underneath the name, Stuart Tremont.</p> + +<p>"Phil's brother!" gasped Lloyd, in astonishment. +"How strange that she should know him!"</p> + +<p>Tearing open the envelope lying on the bench +beside her, Lloyd unfolded a twenty-page letter +from Eugenia, written on thin blue foreign correspondence +paper. Before her glance had travelled +half-way down the second page, she gave another +gasp, and sat staring at an underscored sentence +in open-mouthed amazement. Then, never waiting +to gather up the other letters which fluttered into +the grass at her feet, as she sprang up, she rushed +off toward the house as hard as she could go, waving +Eugenia's letter in one hand and the photographs +in the other.</p> + +<p>"Mothah!" she called, as she reached the end +of the avenue. She was tripping over her long +skirt, and scattering hairpins at every step, as her +reckless flight sent her hair tumbling down over +her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Mothah!" she shrieked again, as she stumbled +up the porch steps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here in my room, dear," came the answer from +an upper window. Falling all over herself in her +undignified haste, Lloyd tore up the stairs. A final +tangling of skirts sent her headlong into her mother's +room, where she half-fell in a breathless, laughing +heap, and sat at Mrs. Sherman's feet with her +hair almost hiding her eager face.</p> + +<p>"Guess what's happened!" she demanded, +breathlessly. "<i>Eugenia is engaged!</i> And to Phil +Tremont's brother Stuart!"</p> + +<p>Then she sat enjoying her mother's surprise, +which was almost as great as her own. "And she +isn't much moah than eighteen," Lloyd exclaimed, +rocking back and forth on the floor, with her arms +clasped around her knees, while her mother examined +the pictures.</p> + +<p>"She looks twenty at least in this picture," answered +Mrs. Sherman, "even more than that. +Eugenia was always old for her years. If you +remember, she was wearing long dresses when we +left her the summer we were in Europe together."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it doesn't seem possible that Eugenia +is old enough to be <i>married</i>," insisted Lloyd. "I +can hardly believe it is true."</p> + +<p>She sat staring dreamily out of the window until +a slight breeze fluttering the sheets of paper still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +clutched in her fingers reminded her that she had +read only two of the twenty pages.</p> + +<p>"Heah is what she says about it," began Lloyd, +reading slowly, for the closely written sheets were +hard to decipher.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'I know you are going to wonder how it all +came about, so I'll begin at the beginning. Last +summer papa came on to Paris in time for Commencement. +He was so pleased because I took +first honours, when he hadn't expected me to take +any, that he said he would do as fathers sometimes +did in fairy-tales,—grant me three wishes, anything +in reason; for he had had an unusually successful +year and could well afford it.</p> + +<p>"'Well, I thought and thought, but I couldn't +think of anything I really wanted, as I just had +an entire new outfit in clothes, so I told him finally +I'd like to stop in London long enough to have a +tailor make me a riding-habit, and I'd think of the +other two wishes sometime during the year. So +we went to London. Papa is such an old darling, +and we've grown to be real chums. After the +tailor had taken my measure, we drove to our banker's +for the mail, and who should papa meet there +but Doctor Tremont, an American physician whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> +he knew years ago when they were young men. +They belonged to the same college fraternity.</p> + +<p>"'They forgot all about poor little me, sitting +over in the corner of the office, and stood and talked +about old times, and asked each other about Tom, +Dick, and Harry, until I was thoroughly tired of +waiting. But after awhile the handsomest young +man came into the room, and Doctor Tremont +introduced him to papa as his oldest son, Stuart. +Then they remembered my humble existence, and +papa brought them both over to me. In about two +minutes we all felt as if we had known each other +always.</p> + +<p>"'Doctor Tremont said he had had a very hard +winter in Berlin, making some study of microbes +with a noted scientist,—I forget his name. He +said Stuart had been closely confined also (he was +taking a medical course), and they were off on +a hard-earned holiday. They were going coaching +up in the lake regions, first in England, then in +Scotland, and maybe later would go over to the +Isle of Skye.</p> + +<p>"'Would you believe it, before we left the bank, +Doctor Tremont had persuaded papa that he needed +a vacation also, and almost in no time it was arranged +that we should join them on their coaching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +trip. We had a perfectly ideal time, and Stuart +and I got to be the best of friends. We corresponded +all summer and fall after that. I didn't +expect to see him again for two years, because he +intended to stay abroad until he had finished his +medical course. But along in the winter papa's +health broke down, and the doctor told him he must +keep away from business for a year, and ordered +him to Baden-Baden for the water.</p> + +<p>"'He was horribly ill after we got there, and +I was so frightened and inexperienced that I +thought he was going to die, and I telegraphed +for Doctor Tremont. It isn't far from Berlin, you +know, as we Americans count distances. But the +doctor had gone to Paris for several weeks, and +Stuart came at once in his place. Of course he +wasn't an experienced physician like his father, but +he was such a comfort, for he cheered papa up so +much, and assured us that the doctor in charge was +doing everything that his father could do. And +he helped nurse papa, and boosted up my spirits +mightily, and was so dear and thoughtful and considerate +that, when he went away, I felt as if the +bottom had dropped out of everything. You can't +imagine how kind and lovely he was all that week. +Papa fairly swore by him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'We wrote to each other every week after he +went back to Berlin. Early this March papa and +I went down into Italy. We shifted about from +place to place,—Naples, Sorrento, Rome, Florence, +and finally to Venice. I don't know why I +never wrote to you those days. You were often +in my thoughts, but you know how it is when one +is constantly on the wing.</p> + +<p>"'I used to wish daily that Stuart could be with +us. He is the most satisfactory of travelling companions, +but I didn't know how very much I wished +it until one day in Venice. Papa was asleep at the +hotel, and I was so lonely that I started out by +myself to explore. I left a message with the clerk +that I had gone to vespers at Saint Mark's Cathedral. +There was a crowd of tourists in the square +in front of the cathedral, feeding the pigeons. +Hearing their English speech after so many months +of nothing but foreign tongues made me homesick. +In the whole plaza, no one but myself seemed to be +alone. They were walking in groups or couples, +and everybody seemed so gay and happy that I +was glad to cross over to the cathedral to get out +of sight.</p> + +<p>"'The vesper service had just begun, and I +stood inside the door listening to the chanting of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +the monks' voices, and getting more homesick every +moment. Just as the tears were ready to brim over, +I looked up, and there in the dim light beside me +stood Stuart. I thought I must be dreaming, but +it was a very happy dream, for I felt that I could +never be homesick or unhappy again when he +looked down and smiled.</p> + +<p>"'I couldn't believe that I was awake and that +he was really there, until we got outside the cathedral +and he began to talk. Then he told me that +he had gone to the hotel, and they had given him +the message I had left for papa. It never occurred +to me to wonder why he had come to Venice. It +just seemed so natural and lovely that he should +be there that I never even asked him why. He +called a gondola, and we got in and went drifting +down the canals under the bridges and past the +old palaces, with the sunset turning everything +around us to rose-colour and gold. Oh, I can't +begin to tell you how perfectly heavenly it all was. +There was a new moon in the sky when we turned +back to the hotel, and, though Stuart <i>hadn't</i> proposed +in the same way that Laurie did to Amy in +"Little Women," he had told me why he came +so far to find me, and I liked his way a great deal +better than Laurie's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Wasn't it all romantic? Papa was awfully +surprised to see him, and nearly as glad as I, and +I told him that now I'd claim the other wishes +he had promised me at Commencement, and take +the two in one. I wished that he would say yes +to the question Stuart had come to ask him. Dear +old dad, he always keeps his promises, so he said +yes after awhile. After Stuart had explained that +he didn't intend to ask him to give me up. When +he finishes his medical course here next year, he +has a position waiting for him near New York City. +We're to have a little home on the Hudson, and +papa is to live with us. So is Doctor Tremont, +when he gets through with his microbe business. +We are done with hotels for ever.</p> + +<p>"'I cannot remember ever having had a home, +Lloyd. I have always lived either in a hotel or at +boarding-school. And Stuart says the only one he +can remember distinctly was the one presided over +by his great-aunt Patricia, and she never did understand +boys. This summer I shall spend with papa +in Switzerland. He is about well now. Then in +the fall, when he goes back to New York, I am +going to a delightful school near Berlin which I +have just heard of. It is a school where none but +the daughters of the German nobility are received,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +as a rule. They make an exception sometimes in +the case of Americans like myself. There they are +taught all the housewifely arts that delight a good +frau's soul. Don't laugh at me, Lloyd. I'm going +to learn how to broil and brew and conduct a well-regulated +establishment from attic to cellar.</p> + +<p>"'A year from this June, Cousin Jack and +Cousin Elizabeth are to bring you and Betty on +to New York to be my bridesmaids. I'd love to +have Joyce, too, if it were possible for her to leave +home. She has been so good to Stuart's brother +Phil. Isn't it strange that we should all be so +linked together? I'd like to have all of you girls +that I met at your never-to-be-forgotten house-party. +That was where I had my first taste of a +real home, and found out that there is something +to live for besides the things that money can buy.</p> + +<p>"'I have looked so often lately at my little Tusitala +ring. I have been a better girl because of that +ring, Lloyd, and I intend it shall be the inspiration +of all my married life,—to help me leave a road +of the loving heart in the memory of every one +around me.</p> + +<p>"'I wish everybody in the world could be as +happy as I am. I am sending Stuart's picture, +so that you can see for yourself what a fine, splendid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +fellow you are to have for a cousin some day. +Give my love to your father and mother and Betty, +and do write soon and tell me that you are glad.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">"'Your loving cousin,</span><br /> +"'<span class="smcap">Eugenia</span>.'"<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Lloyd looked up from the reading of the letter, +wondering what sort of an expression she would +find on her mother's face. To her surprise, it was +one of approval, and there were tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Poor motherless child!" said Mrs. Sherman, +softly. "I shall write to her to-day. I don't approve +of early marriages, but Eugenia has always +been more mature than most girls of her age, and +she does need a home sadly. The care and pleasure +of one will develop her character in a way that +nothing else will. Let me see. She will be nearly +twenty next June. Yes, I have no doubt but that, +with this next year's training in housekeeping +which she intends to take, she will be far better +fitted for home-making than many an older +woman."</p> + +<p>"And may Betty and I be bridesmaids?" interrupted +Lloyd, eagerly, a starlike expectancy shining +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sherman considered a moment, then answered,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +slowly: "There is no reason why you +should not be, so long as you are willing to go as +little maids, and not young ladies. I am very jealous +for your girlhood, Lloyd dear. I must guard +against anything that would shorten it in the least. +Mother's baby must not grow up too fast."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to grow up fast, honestly!" cried +Lloyd, scrambling to her feet and tripping over the +long skirts again as she threw her arms around her +mother's neck. "I'm not dignified enough yet to +fit yoah dresses, and my hair simply won't stay up. +Sweet sixteen doesn't seem half as old when you +really get there as you think that it is going to. +I'll do my hair down and weah short skirts as long +as you want me to, but, oh, I'm so glad that I'm +going to be a bridesmaid! It will be <i>such</i> fun. +I must write to Betty this minute to tell her that +you are willing."</p> + +<p>That night Lloyd sat before her dressing-table +again, this time with the new photographs propped +up in front of her. Stuart's picture almost seemed +to bring Phil before her eyes, and for a moment, +instead of the familiar walls of her room, she saw +the moonlighted desert, and smelled the orange-blossoms, +and heard a strong young voice ringing +out across the silence of the sandy cactus plains:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Till the sun grows cold,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the stars are old,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the leaves of the Judgment</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Book unfold."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be strange," she thought, "if he +were really the one written for me in the stars, +as Betty said in the beginning, and that we should +meet at Eugenia's wedding again, and that some +day, a long time after, I should find that he is the +prince? But it couldn't be Phil," she said to herself +after another glance. "He doesn't measuah up to +Papa Jack's yardstick. Neithah does Malcolm now, +for that mattah," she mused, with her chin in her +hand. "Jack Ware might, or Rob, but they seem +moah like brothahs than anything else, and would +not fit my ideal of a prince at all."</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="308" height="500" alt=""'NO MATTAH WHAT LIES AHEAD . . . I'LL NOT DISAPPOINT THEM'"" title=""'NO MATTAH WHAT LIES AHEAD . . . I'LL NOT DISAPPOINT THEM'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'NO MATTAH WHAT LIES AHEAD . . . I'LL NOT DISAPPOINT THEM'"</span> +</div> + +<p>"'As the falcon's feathahs fit the falcon,'" she +quoted, dreamily. "It would have to be some +strangah that I've nevah yet seen, to do that. Or, +maybe Mammy Easter's grandmothah was right +when she read my fortune in the teacups. Maybe +I'll be an old maid. I wish I knew. I <i>wish</i> I +knew!"</p> + +<p>She peered wistfully into the mirror, as if she +half-expected to see a shadowy hand stretch out +of its dim background, and lift the veil of the future<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +to her eager gaze. "The thoughts of youth are +long, long thoughts." Lloyd's flew back to Eugenia's +romance for an instant, then drifted far +beyond the two in the gondola, with the Venetian +sunset turning all their little world to rose-colour +and gold.</p> + + +<p>One is a mariner at sixteen, sailing toward an +undiscovered country, with seaweed and driftwood +on the crest of every wave beginning to whisper, +"Land ahead." Toward the dim outline of that +untried shore, Lloyd drifted now in her reverie.</p> + +<p>"I <i>wish</i> I could know what the next sixteen +yeahs hold for me," she whimpered. "I hope it +will be something bettah than I could choose for +myself. Mothah and Papa Jack expect so much +of me."</p> + +<p>Then her glance fell on the unfinished rosary, +and, picking up the string of tiny pearls, she looped +it around her throat, and faced the girl in the +mirror with resolute eyes.</p> + +<p>"No mattah what lies ahead," she said, bravely, +"I'll not disappoint them. I'll keep the tryst!"</p> + + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + +<h2><span class='u'>BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</span></h2> + + +<h2> +THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS</h2> +<div class='center'><small>(Trade Mark)</small><br /> + +<br /> +<br /><i>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</i><br /> +<br /> +Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, per vol. $1.50<br /></div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel Stories.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated.</span><br /> + + + + Being three "Little Colonel" stories in the Cosy +Corner Series, "The Little Colonel," "Two Little Knights +of Kentucky," and "The Giant Scissors," put into a +single volume.</div> + + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel's House Party.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> + + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by Louis Meynell.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel's Holidays.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> + + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel's Hero.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel at Boarding School.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel in Arizona.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel, Maid of Honour.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><small>(Trade Mark)</small></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'> +<big><b>The Little Colonel.</b></big><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Trade Mark)</span><br /> +<br /> +<b><big>Two Little Knights of Kentucky.</big></b><br /> +<br /> +<big><b>The Giant Scissors.</b></big><br /> +<br /> +<big><b>Big Brother.</b></big><br /> +</div> + + +<h3>Special Holiday Editions</h3> + +<div class='center'>Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto. $1.25.<br /></div> + +<p>New plates, handsomely illustrated, with eight full-page +drawings in color.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The books are as satisfactory to the small girls, who find +them adorable, as for the mothers and librarians, who delight +in their influence."—<i>Christian Register.</i></p></div> + +<div class='center'> +These four volumes, boxed as a four volume set $5.00<br /></div> + + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>In the Desert of Waiting:</b></big> <span class="smcap">The Legend +of Camelback Mountain.</span></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Three Weavers:</b></big> <span class="smcap">A Fairy Tale for +Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their +Daughters.</span></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Keeping Tryst.</b></big></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Legend of the Bleeding Heart.</b></big></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="prices"> +<tr><td align='left'>Each one volume, tall 16mo, cloth decorative </td><td align='right'>$0.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Paper boards</td><td align='right'>.35</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>There has been a constant demand for publication +in separate form of these four stories, which were originally +included in four of the "Little Colonel" books.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Joel: A Boy of Galilee.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows +Johnston</span>. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman.</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price of Joel"> +<tr><td align='left'>New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel Books, 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative</td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the +author's best-known books.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Asa Holmes;</b></big> <span class="smcap">or, At the Cross-Roads.</span> A +sketch of Country Life and Country Humor. By +<span class="smcap">Annie Fellows Johnston.</span> With a frontispiece by +Ernest Fosbery.</div> + +<div class='center'> +Large 16mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.00<br /> +</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Asa Holmes; or, At the Cross-Roads' is the most delightful, +most sympathetic and wholesome book that has been +published in a long while."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Rival Campers;</b></big> <span class="smcap">or, The Adventures +of Henry Burns.</span> By <span class="smcap">Ruel Perley Smith.</span></div> +<div class='center'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.50</div> + +<p>Here is a book which will grip and enthuse every boy reader. +It is the story of a party of typical American lads, courageous, +alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on an +island off the Maine coast.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The best boys' book since 'Tom Sawyer.'"—<i>San Francisco +Examiner.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Rival Campers Afloat;</b></big> <span class="smcap">or, The +Prize Yacht Viking.</span> By <span class="smcap">Ruel Perley Smith.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>This book is a continuation of the adventures of "The +Rival Campers" on their prize yacht <i>Viking</i>. An accidental +collision results in a series of exciting adventures, culminating +in a mysterious chase, the loss of their prize yacht, and +its recapture by means of their old yacht, <i>Surprise</i>.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Rival Campers Ashore.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Ruel +Perley Smith,</span> author of "The Rival Campers," +"The Rival Campers Afloat," etc.</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"The Rival Campers Ashore" deals with the adventures +of the campers and their friends in and around the town of +Benton. Mr. Smith introduces a new character,—a girl,—who +shows them the way to an old mill, around which the +mystery of the story revolves. The girl is an admirable acquisition, +proving as daring and resourceful as the campers +themselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Young Section-Hand;</b></big> <span class="smcap">or, the adventures +of Allan West.</span> By <span class="smcap">Burton E. Stevenson,</span> +author of "The Marathon Mystery," etc.</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by L. J.Bridgman,</td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p>Mr. Stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given +a chance as a section-hand on a big Western railroad, and +whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Young Train Dispatcher.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Burton +E. Stevenson,</span> author of "The Young Section-hand," +etc.</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The young hero has many chances to prove his manliness +and courage in the exciting adventures which befall him in the +discharge of his duty.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Captain Jack Lorimer.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Winn Standish.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by A. B. Shute,</td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high-school +boy. He has the sturdy qualities boys admire, and +his fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a +chord of sympathy among athletic youths.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Jack Lorimer's Champions;</b></big> or, sports +on Land and Lake. By <span class="smcap">Winn Standish,</span> author of +"Captain Jack Lorimer," etc.</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>All boys and girls who take an interest in school athletics +will wish to read of the exploits of the Millvale High School +students, under the leadership of Captain Jack Lorimer.</p> + +<p>Captain Jack's Champions play quite as good ball as do +some of the teams on the large leagues, and they put all +opponents to good hard work in other summer sports.</p> + +<p>Jack Lorimer and his friends stand out as the finest examples +of all-round American high school boys and girls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>Beautiful Joe's Paradise;</b></big> <span class="smcap">or, The Island +of Brotherly Love.</span> A sequel to "Beautiful Joe." +By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders,</span> author of "Beautiful Joe."</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>One vol., library 12mo, cloth, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This book revives the spirit of 'Beautiful Joe' capitally. +It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual +as anything in the animal book line that has seen the light. It +is a book for juveniles—old and young."—<i>Philadelphia Item.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>'Tilda Jane.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books +that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down +until I had finished it—honest! And I am sure that every +one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to +make the acquaintance of the delicious waif.</p> + +<p>"I cannot think of any better book for children than this. +I commend it unreservedly."—<i>Cyrus Townsend Brady.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Story of the Graveleys.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Marshall +Saunders,</span> author of "Beautiful Joe's Paradise," +"'Tilda Jane," etc.</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. Barry, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, +of a delightful New England family, of whose devotion and +sturdiness it will do the reader good to hear.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>Born to the Blue.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Florence Kimball +Russel.</span></div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on +every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a +captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the +days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>In West Point Gray.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Florence Kimball +Russel.</span></div> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>West Point forms the background for the second volume +in this series, and gives us the adventures of Jack as a cadet. +Here the training of his childhood days in the frontier army +post stands him in good stead; and he quickly becomes the +central figure of the West Point life.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Sandman: His Farm Stories.</b></big> +By <span class="smcap">William J. Hopkins.</span> With fifty illustrations by +Ada Clendenin Williamson.</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Large 12mo, decorative cover, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of very +small children. It should be one of the most popular of the +year's books for reading to small children."—<i>Buffalo Express.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Sandman: More Farm Stories.</b></big> +By <span class="smcap">William J. Hopkins.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Mr. Hopkins's first essay at bedtime stories met with such +approval that this second book of "Sandman" tales was +issued for scores of eager children. Life on the farm, and +out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Sandman: His Ship Stories.</b></big> +By <span class="smcap">William J. Hopkins,</span> author of "The Sandman: +His Farm Stories," etc.</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who put the +little ones to bed, and rack their brains for stories, will find +this book a treasure."—<i>Cleveland Leader.</i></p> + +<p>"Children call for these stories over and over again."—<i>Chicago +Evening Post.</i></p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>Pussy-Cat Town.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Marion Ames Taggart.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors, </td><td align='left'>$1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"Pussy-Cat Town" is a most unusual delightful cat story. +Ban-Ban, a pure Maltese who belonged to Rob, Kiku-san, +Lois's beautiful snow-white pet, and their neighbors Bedelia +the tortoise-shell, Madame Laura the widow, Wutz Butz the +warrior, and wise old Tommy Traddles, were really and truly +cats.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Roses of Saint Elizabeth.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Jane +Scott Woodruff,</span> author of "The Little Christmas +Shoe."</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by Adelaide Everhart,</td><td align='left'>$1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>This is a charming little story of a child whose father was +caretaker of the great castle of the Wartburg, where Saint +Elizabeth once had her home.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>Gabriel and the Hour Book.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Evaleen +Stein.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by Adelaide Everhart,</td><td align='left'>$1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Gabriel was a loving, patient, little French lad, who assisted +the monks in the long ago days, when all the books were +written and illuminated by hand in the monasteries.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Enchanted Automobile.</b></big> Translated +from the French by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford.</span></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by Edna M. Sawyer,</td><td align='left'>$1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The enchanted automobile was sent by the fairy godmother +of a lazy, discontented little prince and princess to +take them to fairyland, where they might visit their story-book +favorites.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>The Red Feathers.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Theodore Roberts</span>, +author of "Brothers of Peril," etc.</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"The Red Feathers" tells of the remarkable adventures of +an Indian boy who lived in the Stone Age, many years ago, +when the world was young, and when fairies and magicians +did wonderful things for their friends and enemies.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'> +<big><b>The Wreck of the Ocean Queen.</b></big> By +James Otis, author of "Larry Hudson's Ambition," +etc.</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>This story takes its readers on a sea voyage around the +world; gives them a trip on a treasure ship; an exciting experience +in a terrific gale; and finally a shipwreck, with a +mutineering crew determined to take the treasure to complicate +matters.</p> + +<p>But only the mutineers will come to serious harm, and +after the reader has known the thrilling excitement of lack of +food and water, of attacks by night and day, and of a hand-to-hand +fight, he is rescued and brought safely home again,—to +realize that it's only a story, but a stirring and realistic +one.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><big><b>Little White Indians.</b></big> By <span class="smcap">Fannie E. +Ostrander</span>.</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Price"> +<tr><td align='left'>Cloth decorative, illustrated, </td><td align='left'>$1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The "Little White Indians" were two families of children +who "played Indian" all one long summer vacation. They +built wigwams and made camps; they went hunting and +fought fierce battles on the war-trail.</p> + +<p>A bright, interesting story which will appeal strongly to +the "make-believe" instinct in children, and will give them a +healthy, active interest in "the simple life."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PHYLLIS' FIELD FRIENDS SERIES</h2> + +<h3><i>By LENORE E. MULETS</i></h3> + +<p>Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie +Schneider. Sold separately, or as a set.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Prices"> +<tr><td align='left'>Per volume, </td><td align='right'>$1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Per set,</td><td align='right'>6.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Phyllis' Field Friends Series"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Insect Stories.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Stories of Little Animals.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Flower Stories.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Bird Stories.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Tree Stories.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Stories of Little Fishes.</b></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author's intention +so to present to the child reader the facts about each +particular flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, as to +make delightful reading. Classical legends, myths, poems, +and songs are so introduced as to correlate fully with these +lessons, to which the excellent illustrations are no little help.</p> + + +<h2>THE WOODRANGER TALES</h2> + +<h3><i>By G. WALDO BROWNE</i></h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="The Woodranger Tales"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Woodranger.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Young Gunbearer.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Hero of the Hills.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>With Rogers' Rangers.</b></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Prices"> +<tr><td align='left'>Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated, per volume,</td><td align='left'>$1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Four vols., boxed, per set,</td><td align='left'>5.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"The Woodranger Tales," like the "Pathfinder Tales" of +J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical information relating +to early pioneer days in America with interesting adventures +in the backwoods. Although the same characters are continued +throughout the series, each book is complete in itself, +and, while based strictly on historical facts, is an interesting +and exciting tale of adventure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES</h2> + + +<p>The most delightful and interesting accounts possible +of child life in other lands, filled with quaint sayings, +doings, and adventures.</p> + +<p>Each one vol., 12mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six or more +full-page illustrations in color.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Prices"> +<tr><td align='left'>Price per volume, </td><td align='left'>$0.60</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><i>By MARY HAZELTON WADE (unless otherwise +indicated)</i></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="The Little Cousin Series"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little African Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Alaskan Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Arabian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Armenian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Brown Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Canadian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Elizabeth R. Macdonald</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Chinese Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Isaac Taylor Headland</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Cuban Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Dutch Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little English Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Eskimo Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little French Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little German Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Hawaiian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Hindu Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Indian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Irish Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Italian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Japanese Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Jewish Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Korean Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By H. Lee M. Pike</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Mexican Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Edward C. Butler</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Norwegian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Panama Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By H. Lee M. Pike</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Philippine Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Porto Rican Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Russian Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Scotch Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Blanche McManus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Siamese Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Spanish Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Swedish Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Claire M. Coburn</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Swiss Cousin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Little Turkish Cousin</b></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/bcover-emblem.jpg" width="200" height="200" alt="THE LITTLE COLONEL TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFFICE" title="THE LITTLE COLONEL TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFFICE" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation, by +Annie Fellows Johnston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE COLONEL'S CHRISTMAS VACATION *** + +***** This file should be named 26215-h.htm or 26215-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/1/26215/ + +Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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