CHAPTER XII
OBEYING ORDERS
“Children,” said Aunt Rachel, one afternoon, as dressed in their best calling costumes, she and Aunt Abbie were about to enter the carriage, “we are going to make some calls, and about five o’clock I want you to meet us at Mrs. Hampton’s, and we will all come home together.”
“Oh, Auntie Rachel,” said Dolly, “I don’t want to go calling to-day. I want to play.”
“I know it, dearie, and so I’ve let you off from most of the calls we’re making. But I especially want you to be with me at Mrs. Hampton’s, so you can play till half-past four, and then get dressed and meet us there at five.”
“All right, Auntie,” said Dolly, who was a sunny-tempered little girl, after all. “What shall I wear?”
“Put on your new white piqué, and Dick, wear your light-grey suit. Now, be sure, children,—be there promptly by five.”
“Yes’m; and if you’re not there shall we wait for you?”
“Yes,” said Aunt Abbie, “wait until we come, no matter what time it is. But we’ll be there about five.”
The aunts drove away and the twins played out in the garden until it was time to dress.
They started off, looking very demure with their clean clothes and freshly-brushed hair.
“I don’t want to go a bit,” said Dolly, with a little sigh, as she walked along.
“Neither do I,” replied Dick, “but we have to go, so there’s no use making a fuss about it. Where does she live, anyway?”
“Why, I don’t know; I thought Auntie told you.”
“No, she didn’t, but I know it can’t be far, because she said we could get there in ten minutes. Here’s old Abe, let’s ask him.”
The twins stopped an old man who was going by in his cart, and who was a well-known character in the town.
“Hello, Abe,” said Dick. “Do you know where Mrs. Hampton lives?”
“Sure, my boy. I just came from there, havin’ been doin’ some cartin’ for her. You see that red-brick house, over beyond those trees?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s the next one beyond,—a white one. You go over that way, and anybody’ll direct you.”
“All right; thank you, Abe,” and the old man drove on, while the twins followed the direction he had given them.
“I’d like to skip,” said Dolly, “but it makes our shoes all dusty.”
“No, we mustn’t do that,” agreed Dick. “Aunt Rachel would have a cat-fit if we weren’t spick and span when we get there.”
So they walked on sedately, only pausing now and then to pick a flower, or look at a bird on a branch.
They inquired once more, in order to be sure, and then turned in at Mrs. Hampton’s gate. A fine fountain was playing in the front yard, and the twins crossed the lawn to see if there were any fish in it. There weren’t, but the plash of the cool water was very attractive.
“I’ll dare you to stick your foot in,” said Dick, suddenly.
They stood on the very brink of the fountain basin, and so impossible was it for either twin to refuse a “dare,” that Dolly’s immaculate white shoe and stocking went flash into the water and out again before she realised what she had done.
“Oh, Dick!” she exclaimed; “you made me do that! What will Aunt Rachel say?”
“Too bad, Dollums,” said Dick, greatly disturbed at his own part in the mischief. “I didn’t think what I was saying.”
“And I didn’t think what I was doing! I dare you to stickyourfoot in!”
Partly because of the dare, and partly because he was quite willing to share his sister’s fate, Dick hastily thrust his own neat black shoe and stocking in the water.
“There!” he said, as half proudly he drew it out again. “Now we’re even!”
“Yes; but how can we go into Mrs. Hampton’s this way?”
“Perhaps they won’t notice. Mine doesn’t feel very wet, does yours?”
“Sopping! and they’ll drip all over her carpet.”
“Let’s wipe them on the grass.”
But the green grass did not improve the appearance of Dolly’s white shoe, though Dick’s black one didn’t show the effects of the bath so plainly.
“Come on, Dolly, we may as well face the music.”
They went on toward the house, and the dust of the footpath settled on Dick’s wet shoe and stocking until he was quite as untidy looking as his sister.
“Wow! isn’t it soppy!” he exclaimed as the water in his shoe oozed and spattered out.
“Horrid! I don’t see why we did it!”
“Well, keep up a brave face, maybe the parlour will be sort of dark and they won’t notice.”
They rang the bell, and a maid opened the door.
“Is Mrs. Hampton in?” said Dolly, in her, sweetest tones.
“Yes; walk in the drawing-room. What names?”
“Miss Dana and Mr. Dana,” said Dolly, and was about to explain that they had come to meet their aunts, when the maid disappeared.
She returned to say that Mrs. Hampton would appear presently, and for them to wait.
“’Course we’ll wait,” said Dick to Dolly, as the maid again left them. “The aunties aren’t here on time, after all. P’raps our feet’ll dry before they come.”
“I wish there was a fire. I’m dripping on this pretty light carpet. Dick, let’s go out in the kitchen or some place, and find a fire.”
“All right, come on.”
They left the drawing-room, and as they crossed the hall they saw a bright wood fire in a room across the hall, evidently the library. So they went in, and drawing up two big chairs, they sat down and held their two wet feet to the crackling blaze.
“This is gay,” said Dick, leaning back in his chair with a sigh of satisfaction. “We’ll be all dry in a few minutes, Doll.”
“Yes; but I wish Aunt Rachel would come before Mrs. Hampton comes down. I don’t know her. Do you?”
“Nope; never saw her. But the aunties are bound to be here soon. It’s quarter-past five, now.”
“Whatareyou children doing?” said a voice behind them, and Dick and Dolly jumped from their chairs, and saw a lady coming toward them. She was a very pretty lady, in a trailing silk house gown, and lots of frizzy light hair.
Dolly thought she looked a little like Lady Eliza, and not at all like any of Aunt Rachel’s other friends.
“How do you do?” said Dolly, making her curtsey prettily, while Dick bobbed his head.
“How do you do?” returned Mrs. Hampton, “but who are you?”
“We’re Dolly and Dick Dana,” said Dick, “and our aunties said for us to meet them here at five o’clock. But they don’t seem to be here yet.”
“No; they’re not. Are your aunties Miss Rachel and Miss Abbie Dana?”
“Yes’m; and they said they would call here this afternoon.”
“And they told us if they weren’t here to wait till they came,” said Dolly.
“Yes?” said Mrs. Hampton, looking at her quizzically. “And why are you sitting almost into the fire? It’s a warm day.”
“Yes,” said Dolly, “but you see, we stepped into the fountain as we came along, and so we’re just drying our feet.”
“That’s a very good idea,” and Mrs. Hampton’s smiling eyes were as pleasant as if stepping into fountains was quite usual for her guests. “And so your aunts are coming to call on me?”
“Yes, at five o’clock. But they seem to be late, so, if you please, we’ll wait for them.”
They waited until half-past five, and then until quarter of six, and still the Dana ladies didn’t come. The twins grew very impatient, for it was most irksome to have to sit and talk polite conversation with a grown-up lady.
Mrs. Hampton asked so many questions too. Very impertinent questions they seemed to Dick, though he answered to the best of his ability.
Mrs. Hampton was smiling and pleasant, and seemed interested in hearing about the Dana establishment, but still Dick and Dolly felt uncomfortable, and wished their aunts would come.
At six o’clock Mrs. Hampton said she felt sure the aunts had changed their plans, and were not coming, and she delicately hinted that she would send the twins home.
“No,” said Dick, positively; “we must stay here till they come. Aunt Abbie said to wait, no matter what time it was. And, besides, if they have changed their plans, and are not coming here, they’d send Michael for us, anyway.”
Dolly agreed to this, and the two little martyrs sat for another half-hour.
“Well, if you stay any longer, you must stay to dinner,” said Mrs. Hampton at last. “Do you sit up to dinner at home?”
“We have supper at night,” said Dolly, and her lip quivered a little, for she was beginning to feel anxious about her aunts.
“Well, I have dinner at night,—at eight o’clock.”
“At eight o’clock!” exclaimed Dolly. “Don’t you get awfully hungry before that time?”
“No, I don’t,” said Mrs. Hampton, smiling; “but I’m sure you chickabiddies will. So suppose I give you a nice little supper up in my sitting-room, and excuse you from dinner? I have guests coming, and it isn’t exactly a children’s party, you see.”
“But we’re not going to stay here all night!” exclaimed Dolly in dismay.
“It looks that way to me,” said Mrs. Hampton. “I offered to send you home, and you said no. Now I feel sure your aunts won’t come,—it’s too late for them, and if you’re bound to wait for them, I can offer you supper and pleasant sleeping rooms,—but I can’t invite you to dinner.”
The twins were uncertain what to do. But after all, they had no choice. Aunt Rachel had told them to wait until she came, and Aunt Rachel’s orders were always to be obeyed. To be sure something might have happened to prevent the aunties from carrying out their plan of calling on Mrs. Hampton, but even so, they would have sent for the children. And if they had gone home, they would surely send Michael over for them at once. It wasn’t as if the aunties didn’t know where they were. They had sent them to Mrs. Hampton’s, and told them to wait there. So they waited.
They thought Mrs. Hampton seemed a little annoyed because they waited. But as Dick said to Dolly, “I’m not going to disobey Aunt Rachel for another lady. But all the same, Dollums, I do want to go home.”
“So do I,” said Dolly, “I think it’s horrid here.”
It wasn’t really horrid at all, but to be unwelcome guests in a strange house is not especially pleasant, no matter how pretty the house may be.
The twins had been taken up to Mrs. Hampton’s sitting-room, and in charge of a maid, had been served with a delightful little supper. Bread and milk, jam, fresh strawberries, and dear little cakes, followed by ice cream, made a goodly feast indeed. After it, their spirits rose a little, and they ate their ice cream with smiling faces.
“I think the aunties decided to come this evening instead of afternoon,” said Dick, unable to think of any other explanation.
“They never do make calls in the evening but perhaps that’s it,” said Dolly, doubtfully. “I hear people coming in, Dick, let’s go and look over the banisters.”
Carrying their ice cream plates with them the twins stepped out into the hall and looked over the banisters on the scene below.
It was a fascinating glow of lights and flowers and ladies and gentlemen in evening dress, for the dinner guests had come, and were standing about, engaged in conversation.
Dolly was enchanted with the grand ladies, with jewels in their hair, and with low-necked gowns, and Dick, too, leaned over the banister to see the gay scene. So absorbed were they that they did not heed their melting ice cream, and, almost at the same moment, the soft, cold mass slid from each tipped-up plate, on the heads and shoulders of the ladies and gentlemen below.
Such a shriek of dismay as arose brought Dick and Dolly to a realisation of what they had done, and in an agony of mortification they fled back to the sitting-room.
Here Mrs. Hampton found them, their heads buried in sofa pillows, and crying in muffled paroxysms.
“You must go home,” she said, and her cold, hard tones were more of a reproof than any words could have been. “My coachman will take you, and I wish you to go at once.”
“We wish to go, Mrs. Hampton,” said Dolly, striving to choke back her tears while she made some sort of apology. “We’re very sorry we came, and we’re ’ceeding sorry we spilled the ice cream. It was very good.”
This sounded as if Dolly merely regretted the loss of the dainty, but it was not so. She meant to compliment the supper that had been given them, but, what with their worry over Aunt Rachel’s absence, their own homesickness, and the awful accident of the ice cream, both children were completely upset.
“Please forgive us,” said Dick, holding out his little hand. “We’ve had a lovely time,—and,—and we hope you’ll come to see us.”
“I can’t make you out!” said Mrs. Hampton, looking at the children in perplexity. “I thought you threw down that ice cream purposely.”
“Oh, no!” cried both twins at once, and Dolly went on eagerly: “you see, we never saw low-necked ladies and gentlemen at a party before; and we were so awfully interested, we leaned over to see better, and I s’pose the gas-lights heated up our ice cream and melted it, and it just slipped off the plates.”
“We ought to have held the plates more level,” said Dick, thoughtfully; “I’m sorry we didn’t.”
“I’m sorry, too, for you mortified me terribly and annoyed my guests, which was worse.”
“It’s terrible!” said Dolly, with a sigh. “I don’t see how youcanforgive us.”
“I couldn’t if you weren’t such a sweet little culprit,” said Mrs. Hampton, smiling, and catching Dolly in her arms and kissing her. Then she kissed Dick too, and, still smiling, she hurried away.
The maid found the children’s hats, and hurried them down the back stairs, where the coachman was waiting for them. Evidently the servants were not as forgiving as Mrs. Hampton, for Dick and Dolly were fairly hustled into the carriage, the door was banged shut, and they were rapidly driven homeward.
At Dana Dene, they were met on the threshold by two very frightened-looking ladies, and while Aunt Rachel and Aunt Abbie each clasped a twin in her arms, the Hampton carriage drove away.
“Youdearbabies! where have you been?” cried Aunt Abbie, while Aunt Rachel squeezed Dick with an affection too deep for words.
“Where have we been?” cried Dick, in amazement. “Why, we’ve been at Mrs. Hampton’s, where you told us to go, and wait for you. We’ve been waiting there ever since five o’clock!”
“Why, Dickie, dear,” expostulated Miss Rachel, “we went to Mrs. Hampton’s at five o’clock, and waited there for you until nearly six! Then we came home, and ever since we’ve been nearly frantic because we didn’t know where you were. Michael and Pat have been out hunting with lanterns.”
“But, Auntie, dear,” said Dolly, “wedidgo to Mrs. Hampton’s, and after we waited and waited, and you didn’t come, she gave us supper in her sitting-room, ’cause she had a dinner party in the dining-room, and the ladies had on beautiful frocks, all lacy and low-necked, and we spilled ice cream on ’em!”
“What!”
“Yes’m; we didn’t mean to, you know, but it melted.”
“Dolly, whatareyou talking about? Mrs. Hampton is not having a dinner party this evening. I just left there at six o’clock, so I know.”
“Well,ourMrs. Hampton is,” said Dick. “Are there two Mrs. Hamptons in Heatherton, auntie?”
“No, of course there aren’t! I wonder where youhavebeen!”
“Well, sheisMrs. Hampton, we called her that, and so did the maid. It’s a beautiful house,—with a great big open round in the hall, where you can look down,—and a fountain outside.”
Miss Rachel sent for Michael.
“Michael,” said she, “where do you suppose these children have been? Whose carriage brought them home?”
“I don’t know, Miss Rachel. It’s a new turnout in Heatherton. All swell, jingly harness and livery, an’ the like o’ that.”
“Dolly says they live in a big white house with a fountain in front.”
“Arrah, thin, it’s the new people as is afther takin’ the Van Zandt place. A widdy lady of great forchin, I’m towld; an’ be the same token, I do belave they said her name was Hampden, or somethin’ like that.”
CHAPTER XIII
AUNT NINE
Of course that was the explanation. Mrs. Hampden was a wealthy young widow who had just came to Heatherton to live. The Dana ladies did not know her, and probably never would have known her had it not been for the twins’ escapade.
For lively little Mrs. Hampden belonged to a gay, modern set that had little in common with the Dana ladies’ older and more conservative circle of friends. Also, she was not at all like the Mrs. Hampton on whom Miss Rachel and Miss Abbie were calling, and where the twins were expected to meet them.
But as the real fault lay at the aunties’ door, inasmuch as they had not given the twins sufficiently explicit directions, it did not seem fair to blame Dick and Dolly.
And after hearing the story the twins told, Miss Rachel and Miss Abbie saw that it was their duty to call on Mrs. Hampden, and apologise for the trouble the children had made for her.
This was not a pleasant or an easy thing to do, but as it turned out, Mrs. Hampden was so flattered at having the Dana ladies call on her that she willingly forgave the children’s escapade, and begged that they might be allowed to come to see her again.
This was not promised, for Miss Rachel Dana of Dana Dene was very careful about making new acquaintances, and considered her present visiting list quite long enough. The children themselves had no wish to go again to the house where they had met with such an untoward accident, and so the incident was closed, and the aunts trusted that Mrs. Hampden would not return their call.
“But I do think,” said Aunt Abbie, as they discussed the matter at home, “that you two children ought to be reproved for spilling that ice cream.”
“I think so, too,” said Dick, cheerfully, “but ’course you know, auntie, that we didn’t mean to do it.”
“Certainly,” said Aunt Abbie, with some asperity, “I don’t suppose you poured it down on the people purposely. But you are quite old enough to know better than to walk about with saucers of food in your hands.”
“So we are!” said Dolly, as if surprised at the fact. “Aunt Abbie, I do believe we’re ’ceedingly bad children!”
“Not exactly that,” said Aunt Abbie, smiling in spite of herself, “but you are exceedingly thoughtless, and I want you to strive to correct that fault.”
“Yes’m,” said Dick, earnestly, “we’ll strive like fury. Honest, we will, Aunt Abbie. Won’t we, Doll?”
“Yes, indeedy!” agreed Dolly, with a very affirmative wagging of her head. “And now, if you’re all through scolding, Aunt Abbie, may we kiss you?”
Then, without waiting for the requested permission, both children tumbled themselves upon Miss Abbie, and gave her the soft answer that turneth away wrath. For who could continue to reprove two affectionate small persons, whose chubby arms flew about in wild caresses, and whose insistent kisses fell just wherever they happened to land? But Miss Abbie Dana was determined to instil some sense of decorum into her young charges, so when released from their embraces, she began again:
“Now that’s another thing, children; I want you to love me, of course. But it seems to me you needn’t be so—so——”
“Rampageous?” volunteered Dick. “That’s what Pat says we are.”
“We can’t help it, auntie,” said Dolly, fixing her big brown eyes solemnly on her aunt. “You see, we’re so ’thusiastic that when we love anybody we love ’em fearful! And we just ’dore you and Aunt Rachel. Don’t we, Dick?”
“Well, I guess!” and then Miss Abbie had to stand another series of pats and kisses, which, in view of the recent conversation, the twins made a little less boisterous.
“Well, you’re dear little twinsies,” said Aunt Abbie, as at last they ran away.
“And,” she added to herself, “I think I can make them improve their manners by just keeping at it.”
Poor Miss Abbie wanted to bring the children up rightly, but the work was so new to her she didn’t know exactly how to conduct it.
As for Miss Rachel, she vibrated between over-indulgence and over-severity, an occasion of one being conscientiously followed by the other.
So the twins nearly always had their own sweet way, and as, though sometimes thoughtless, they were not mischievous children, Dana Dene was brighter and happier for their presence.
One Monday the aunties were getting ready for the Reading Circle, which was to meet at Dana Dene in the afternoon. It was very inconvenient for all the members that the club should meet on washdays, but as it always had done so, of course that couldn’t be changed.
Some ladies had the washing put off till Tuesday, but life at Dana Dene was far too methodical for that.
So when the club was expected, Delia tried to get her wash all hung out by noon, and so be ready to help in the afternoon. For, though the club didn’t assemble until three o’clock, and tea was served at five, there was much to be done in the way of prinking up the house for the occasion. The twins were allowed to help, and Dolly dusted, and brought water for the flower vases, and helped adjust fresh pillow-shams and bureau covers, until Aunt Rachel declared she didn’t know how she ever got ready for Reading Circle without Dolly’s help. And Dick’s as well; for he cut flowers, and ranlots of errands, and did lots of useful things.
And when, at about eleven o’clock, he saw the telegram boy coming with a yellow envelope, he took it and flew to Aunt Rachel with it faster than any one else could have done.
“For gracious goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Miss Rachel as she read it; “Aunt Nine is coming to dinner to-day!”
“To-day!” said Miss Abbie in a tone positively tragic, as she sank down in a big chair. “Why, she can’t, Rachel! It’s after eleven now, and the Reading Circle coming at three, and nothing but cold beef for dinner!”
“It doesn’t matter whether she can or not; she’s coming,” and Miss Rachel, who had turned fairly white with dismay, sat down opposite her sister.
“Who’s Aunt Nine? What a funny name!” cried Dick, dancing around in excited curiosity.
Dolly picked up the telegram, which had fluttered to the floor.
“‘Will arrive at twelve-thirty,’” she read; “‘meet me at the station.’”
“Why, it’s signed ‘P. Dana,’” said Dick. “How can P. Dana be Aunt Nine? How can it, Aunt Abbie?” He squeezed into the big chair beside Miss Abbie, and patted her cheek to attract her attention. “How can it? How does P. stand for Nine? Or do you mean nine aunts are coming? Oh, Doll, wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Tell me,” urged Dolly, squeezing herself into Aunt Rachel’s lap, “tell me first, auntie, ’fore Dick knows. Quick, tell me! Who’s Aunt Nine? What does it mean?”
“Oh, Dolly, for mercy’s sake don’t bother me now! She’s Aunt Penninah, your great-aunt, of course. We always call her Aunt Nine. And she’s the most particular, fussy, pernicketty old lady in the world!”
“Oh, she’s dreadful!” sighed Aunt Abbie. “We always spend weeks getting ready for her. She never came so unexpectedly before.”
“But the house is all in order,” suggested Dolly, anxious to be comforting.
“Yes, for the Reading Circle. But not for Aunt Penninah. She looks into every cupboard and storeroom, and, besides, we’ve nothing for dinner.”
“I’ll go get something,” offered Dick. “What do you want?”
“Oh, I don’t know! I don’t know!” groaned Miss Rachel. “Go and send Hannah here. And it’s wash-day, too! And the Reading Club! Oh, what can we do?”
But after the first surprise and bewilderment were over, the Dana ladies rose to the occasion, and did the best they could.
Michael was sent to town for supplies, Hannah was instructed to set the table with special elaboration, and Aunt Abbie herself went into the kitchen and whisked up a pudding.
Delia was still at her washing, and Pat was putting finishing touches to the lawn and flower-beds so they could not be disturbed.
The twins flew about in earnest endeavours to help, but after their breaking a cut-glass vase, and upsetting a small table of bric-à-brac, Aunt Rachel lost patience.
“Dick and Dolly,” she said, “you go upstairs and stay either in your own rooms or in your playroom until dinner is served at one o’clock! Do you understand? No; I’m not scolding, but I’m so put about that you two simply drive me distracted! Now obey me exactly, for that’s all you can do to help. Come down to the library at five minutes to one,—not a minute before. And see that you’re spandy clean, and very nicely dressed. Put on your blue lawn, Dolly, and tie your hair ribbons carefully.”
“Yes’m; Dick’ll tie ’em for me. He does it just lovely.”
Subdued by Aunt Rachel’s desperate manner, the twins crept away, resolved to be very good, and do exactly as they were told.
“It isn’t twelve yet,” said Dick; “no use dressing now. We’d only get all rumpled up. Let’s go up in the playroom.”
So up they went, and began to play with Lady Eliza.
“Hello, ’Liza!” cried Dick, shaking her wax hand cordially. “I haven’t seen you in some time. Are you well?”
“Pretty well,” said Dolly in a squeaky voice. It was part of their play that, whenever either twin spoke to Lady Eliza, the other twin was to answer for her.
“Pretty well. But I’m tired of this old frock,—I want a change.”
“All right,” said Dick; “we’ll fix you up. Let’s rig her up gay, Doll, and we’ll show her off to Aunt Nine.”
“All right,” and Dolly flew to the trunk that contained Lady Eliza’s wardrobe.
They selected an old-fashioned blue silk dress that Aunt Rachel had given them, and proceeded to array Eliza in it. Then Dolly dressed her hair. She loved to do this, for Eliza’s hair was very profuse, if not of very fine texture, and soon Dolly had built a fine array of puffs and curls, with a fancy ornament of blue and silver tucked in at the side.
Then, desiring to make her very grand, Dolly put a necklace of her own round Eliza’s neck, and added several long strings of beads, hung with various trinkets.
“How do I look?” said Dolly in the squeaky voice that always represented Lady Eliza’s talking.
“You look gay,” said Dick. “Perhaps this afternoon you’ll meet a grand lady, Miss Nine Dana. I hope you’ll behave properly.”
“Oh, I’ll behave lovely,” squeaked Eliza, and then the twins ran away to dress for dinner. By quarter of one they were all ready.
Dolly looked very sweet and demure in her frilly blue lawn, and her beautiful hair was tied with a big white bow which Dick had skilfully arranged. By practice his deft little fingers had conquered the science of tying bows, so Dolly’s hair ribbons were always marvels of correct proportions.
They had promised not to go to the library until five minutes of one, and the ten minutes intervening seemed interminable. They drifted back to the playroom to say good-by to Eliza, when Dick had an inspiration.
“Let’s take her down,” he said, “and put her in the dining-room to greet Aunt Nine when we all go out to dinner.”
“Let’s!” cried Dolly, and in a jiffy they were carrying the Lady Eliza Dusenbury silently down the back stairs. By good luck they didn’t encounter Hannah or the aunties, and they reached the dining-room in safety.
“Where shall we stand her?” said Dick. “In the bay window?”
“No,” said Dolly. “Let’s sit her at the table.”
“She won’t sit.”
“Well, we’ll sort of slide her under; if we put her in Aunt Rachel’s big chair she’ll be all right.”
They propped Eliza into the chair, and though she seemed to be falling backward in a swoon, her bright eyes and pink cheeks betokened good health. Her elaborate costume looked fine at the prettily set table, and Dick moved her arms about until they seemed extended in welcome.
“That’s fine!” said Dolly, nodding admiringly at the tableau.
“This is finer!” cried Dick, and taking the large carving-knife from the table, he thrust it into Eliza’s outstretched hand. This was easily done by sticking the knife handle partly up her long tight sleeve, and her effect, as she brandished the glittering steel, was now ferocious.
“Gay!” cried Dolly; “won’t they be s’prised! Come on, Dick, it’s five minutes to one.”
The twins, hand in hand, went into the library, and with their best curtseys were presented to Aunt Penninah.
“These are the children, Aunt Nine,” said Miss Rachel, and Dick and Dolly saw, sitting an a big armchair, the most imposing-looking personage they had ever met.
Miss Penninah Dana was a large and very tall woman, with white hair, and large, piercing black eyes that seemed to see everything.
“H’m; twins, are you?” she said, looking at them over her eyeglasses. “You seem very demure. Are you always so quiet?”
Dick rolled his eyes toward Aunt Rachel.
“Shall we show her?” he whispered, quite ready to pounce on the new aunt if desired.
“Mercy, no!” said Miss Rachel. “Do behave, if you can.”
“Well,” said Dick, answering Aunt Nine’s question, “we’renotalways so quiet. But to-day we’re trying to be good because you’re here, and the Reading Circle is coming.”
“But sometimes we’re good when there isn’t company, too,” put in Dolly, not wanting to be misjudged.
“I’m surprised at that!” said Aunt Nine, but there was a merry gleam in her eye, and somehow the twins began to think they were going to like her in spite of her majestic appearance.
Then dinner was announced, and, as the guest arose, the children were impressed afresh with her evident importance.
She walked like a duchess, and seemed to expect everybody to dance attendance upon her.
Aunt Rachel picked up her handkerchief, and Aunt Abbie her vinaigrette, for she dropped them both as she rose.
The twins, greatly interested, walked behind, and they all started toward the dining-room.
As they neared the door, the hostesses stepped back and Aunt Penninah stalked stiffly into the room.
Perhaps it was not to be wondered at, for the figure at the table was certainly startling to look at, and the glittering carving knife was aimed straight at her, but Aunt Penninah threw up both her hands, gave a fearful shriek, and fainted dead away!
CHAPTER XIV
A CORONATION
“Oh, Aunt Nine, whatisthe matter?” cried Miss Rachel, bending over her, while Miss Abbie fluttered around distractedly.
They had not yet seen Lady Eliza, as they were so engrossed with their stricken guest.
Nor did it occur to Dick and Dolly, at first, that it was their beloved Eliza that had caused the trouble.
Aunt Penninah began to revive, as Miss Rachel sprinkled water in her face, and Miss Abbie held her strong smelling-salts to her nose.
“Who is it?” she asked, faintly, sitting up on the floor, and pointing to the dangerous-looking person with the carving knife.
“Oh,” cried Dolly, “if she wasn’t scared at Lady Eliza! Why, that’s nobody, Aunt Nine! Only just a wax doll.”
“Take that thing away!” said Miss Rachel, sternly, as she realised what had happened.
Dick and Dolly fairly jumped. Aunt Rachel had never spoken to them in that tone before, and they suddenly realised that it had been naughty to put Eliza at the table, though they had thought it only a joke. Silently, the twins began to lift Eliza from her chair, when Aunt Nine screamed out:
“Come away, children! You’ll be killed! Oh, Rachel, who is she?”
“Nobody, Aunt Nine. It’s a doll, a wax dummy that belongs to the children. They put her there for fun, I suppose.”
“Fun!” roared Aunt Penninah, glaring at the twins. “Do you call itfunto frighten me out of my senses?”
As her speech and manner nearly frightened the twins out oftheirsenses, they were pretty nearly even, but apparently the old lady was waiting for an answer.
“Wethoughtit would be fun,” said Dolly, truthfully. “You see, we didn’t know how easily you scared.”
“Easily scared, indeed! Who wouldn’t be scared to come into a room and find a strange woman brandishing a carving knife in my very face! A nice pair of children you are! Leave the room at once,—or else I shall!”
Dick and Dolly were bewildered by this tornado of wrath, and began to edge toward the hall door, keeping out of reach of the irate lady.
But Miss Rachel, though deeply mortified and seriously annoyed at the twins’ mischief, was a strong stickler for justice, and she well knew, Dick and Dolly had meant only a harmless joke.
“Now, Aunt Nine,” she said; “don’t take this so seriously. The children meant no harm, they wanted to amuse you; and had it not been for the carving knife, I daresay you would have found the Lady Eliza very funny indeed.”
“Funny! that horrible thing with her staring eyes! Take her away so I can eat my dinner!”
At a gesture from Aunt Abbie, Hannah and Dick removed the offending Eliza, and returned the carving knife to the sideboard. As Eliza was a great friend of both Hannah and Delia, she was allowed to stand in the butler’s pantry all through dinner time.
“Well, what do you say, Aunt Nine?” said Aunt Abbie, “may the twins sit at table, or would you rather have them sent from the room?”
“Oh, let them stay,” said the old lady, not very graciously. “I’ve no desire to be too severe, but that awful sight shocked my nerves, and I may never get over it.”
This awful outlook grieved Dolly’s tender heart, and she flew to the old lady and clasped her hand, while she said:
“I’msosorry, Aunt Nine! I didn’t know you had nerves, and I thought you’d be ’mused to see Lady Eliza sitting there. I don’t knowhowwe happened to give her the carving knife. But we ’most always putsomethingin her hand. I wish we’d thought of a fan! That would have been pretty, and it wouldn’t have hurt your nervousness,—would it?”
“Perhaps not,” said Aunt Penninah, grimly, but she couldn’t help smiling at pretty little Dolly, who was caressing her be-ringed old hand, and looking imploringly up into her face.
Then she turned to Dick.
“And how about you, sir?” she said. “Did you think it amusing to threaten a guest with a carving-knife?”
Dick came over and looked at her with his straightforward eyes.
“I didn’t mean to threaten you, of course,” he said. “But itwasnaughty, and I’m sorry,—we’re both sorry,—and can we doanythingto make you forgive us?”
“No, you can’t,” said Aunt Penninah, “but when you look at me like that,—with your father’s very eyes,—there is no question of forgiveness. You’re all Dana—both of you!”
And then the strange old lady kissed both the twins and peace was restored all around.
Dinner went on smoothly. Miss Abbie and Miss Rachel were secretly impatient, because there was much yet to be done before the Reading Circle came, but Miss Penninah’s presence admitted of no scanting of ceremony.
Hannah’s service was more punctilious than the twins had ever before known it, for Hannah had been at Dana Dene many years, and knew the exactions and demands of a visit from Miss Penninah.
But at last the lengthy meal reached its close.
“Will you go to your room for a rest, Aunt Nine?” said Miss Abbie, hopefully, as they rose from the table.
“No, I won’t; I’m not tired at all. I’ll make the further acquaintance of these very astonishing young relatives of mine.”
“Oh, do, Aunt Nine! Do come and play with us!” cried Dick, with such unmistakable sincerity that the old lady was greatly pleased.
“Yes, come out and see our gardens,” said Dolly, dancing by her side, and to the great relief of the other two aunties, Miss Penninah walked off with the twins.
Then Hannah and the two ladies flew ’round like mad. They put leaves in the table until it was as long as possible; they set it with all the best china and glass and silver for the Reading Circle’s tea. For the feast was not a tea at all, but a most elaborate supper, and Aunt Nine’s coming had sadly delayed the preparations.
Meantime, that elderly dame was walking round the children’s playground. She was greatly pleased with their gardens, and was surprised to learn that they tilled and weeded them all themselves.
“You’re really very smart little people,” she said, “and quite worthy to bear the Dana name.”
The twins were flattered, for they well knew how highly all their aunts thought of the Dana name, and, too, they had already begun to like the peculiar old lady who had scolded them so harshly at the very beginning of their acquaintance.
When it was nearly time for the ladies of the Reading Circle to arrive, Aunt Rachel told the twins they must go out to their playground and stay there all the afternoon.
“For,” she said, “I cannot run the risk of having some ridiculous thing happen during our programme. You don’t mean to do wrong, but you’re just as likely as not to stand Lady Eliza up beside our President when she’s making her address. So take Eliza with you, and go out to the garden, and stay there until Delia rings the bell, or Hannah comes to call you.”
“All right,” said Dick, “and if any of the boys or girls come over, may Hannah send them out there to us?”
“Yes, I’ll tell her. Now, run along.”
They ran along, though slowly, because of Lady Eliza’s difficulttransportation. But at last they reached the playground, and stood Eliza in a corner, ready for action when they needed her.
“Jiminy Crickets!” remarked Dick, “but Aunt Nine’s the funny old lady, isn’t she, Doll?”
“Yep; but I sort of like her. After she got through blowing us up, she was real jolly.”
“Yes, and wasn’t Auntie Rachel the brick to stand up for us at dinner time?”
“She was so. I wonder how long Aunt Nine is going to stay.”
“I dunno. A week, I guess. Hello, here comes Pinkie. Hello, Pinkie!”
“Hello!” she returned, and then almost before she and Dolly had said “Hello!” Jack Fuller came.
This quartette were almost always together on pleasant afternoons, and as Dana Dene had attractions that the other homes didn’t possess, they played there oftener than elsewhere.
“Hello, Lady Eliza Dusenbury,” said Jack, shaking hands with that silent partner.
Of course, all the boys and girls knew Lady Eliza now, and indeed the citizens of the village had ceased to be surprised when the twins rode to town in the farm wagon, with Eliza accompanying them.
The servants at Dana Dene took her as a matter of course, and Michael was fond of bowing politely, and saying, “The top of the mornin’ to ye, ma’am!”
“Let’s build a throne and crown Eliza queen,” suggested Jack, and the rest at once agreed.
“What shall we make the throne of?” asked Dolly.
“I’ll ask Michael,” said Dick, “he always helps us out.”
But Michael was busy with some extra work connected with the visit of the Reading Circle, and had no time for bothering with youngsters.
“Throne, is it?” he said; “I’ve no time to be buildin’ ye royal palaces! Take the wheelbarry fer a throne, shure!”
It was a chance suggestion, but it served, and Dick returned to the waiting group, trundling the wheelbarrow.
“We can’t bother Michael much,” he said, “’cause he has to run that Reading Circle thing. But I guess we can fix up this wheelbarrow with flowers and greens and make it do. Hello, Maddy; Hello, Cliff!”
Madeleine and Clifford Lester had arrived during Dick’s absence, but greetings were soon spoken, and the more the merrier.
Then the half dozen went to work with a will, using both heads and hands to devise ingenious plans for the coronation of Eliza.
“She ought to be dressed in white,” said Dolly, looking disapprovingly on Eliza’s blue dress; “but she hasn’t a white frock to her name.”
“Hasn’t your aunt any?” asked Pinkie, realising the real need of white.
“I can’t bother her to-day,” said Dolly, decidedly; “she’s got the Reading Circle and Aunt Nine both at once; and she told me to keep out.”
“Couldn’t you get a big white apron from Delia,” suggested Maddy Lester.
“No; queens don’t wear aprons.”
Then Dolly’s eye lighted on the clothes line, full of the Monday wash, which busy Delia had not yet taken in, though it was thoroughly dry.
“I might get something there!” she cried. “Come on, girls!”
The three girls ran to the big, sunny bleaching ground, where three long lines of white clothes waved in the breeze.