CHAPTER IIIAN AFTERNOON CALL
Dollyworried a good deal over her teacher’s illness, and when Miss Partland was not at school the next day, she decided to go to see her, on the way home. The boys tried to dissuade her, but Dolly was firm.
“No use trying to steer off Dolly Fayre, if she’s made up her mind,” said Lollie Henry. “If she has a bee in her bonnet, she sticks to it like a puppy to a root.”
They all laughed at this, but Dotty said, earnestly, “Don’t go, Doll; you’ll have to tell on the boys and girls, and that will be awful mean.”
“No, I won’t. I’ve a plan of my own, and I won’t say a word about your playing a joke, or anything about any of you. But I do think, Lollie, and you Tad and Tod too, that it’s a mean, horrid thing to play practical jokes, and I think yououghtto be told on,—but I won’t tell on you.”
“Ah, now, Dolly, Towhead Dolly, don’t be hard on us,” said Tad, in such a wheedlesome way that Dolly had to laugh. “We didn’t mean any real harm, and shehasbeen awfully cross to us, and we’re not such angels of goodness as you are—”
“I’m not an angel of goodness, Tad Brown, and I’ll thank you to stop making fun of me! But I do believe in being decent to a teacher, even if she is strict in her rules.”
“Come on, Dolly,” said Dotty, as they neared the street where Miss Partland lived; “if you’re going, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, ho!” jeered Lollie, “twolittle angels of goodness, little white angels, with shiny wings! Well, fly into old Party’s house, and see what’s the matter with her,—mumps or measles!”
The two girls went to the house, and were invited to go up to the teacher’s room.
They found Miss Partland, sitting in an easy chair, looking disconsolate indeed.
“How do you do, girls?” she said, listlessly; “won’t you sit down?”
The two D’s sat down, and Dolly said, at once, “Oh, I’m glad to see you looking so much better, Miss Partland! You’re not really ill, are you?”
“I don’t know, Dolly,” and the poor lady looked sadly distraught. She was not an interesting invalid in appearance. She had on an old grey flannel wrapper, and her hair was untidy. A bowl of broth, cold,—and one or two bottles were on her table, and the whole room had an unkempt, uncared-for air. “You see,” she went on, “I didn’t know I had heart trouble, and it worries me terribly.”
“Do you know it yet?” asked Dolly. “Have you had a doctor?”
“I’ve sent for him, but he hasn’t come yet. But several people have called or telephoned, and they all speak of my heart attack, so I think it must have been that.”
Dotty looked very serious, and blushed a little as she realised to what a pass their thoughtless joke had brought the teacher.
“Miss Partland,” Dolly went on. “I don’t believe it was your heart, or you’d be sicker now. You don’t feel bad, do you?”
“N-no,—I guess not,—I can hardly tell.”
“Well, you look real well to me—”
“Oh, do I? I’m glad to hear you say so. I thought myself, if it were anything serious, I’d feel worse than I do. I haven’t any real pain, you know.”
“That’s good; and I believe all you want is to brace up and forget it. Forget that little bother of yesterday, I mean.”
“Say, Miss Partland,” broke in Dotty, “won’t you let me do your hair in a new way that I’ve just tried on mother’s? I often do her hair for her, and she says it rests her a lot. And this new way—”
“Mercy, child, I never had anybody touch my hair in my life!”
“Then you don’t know how it helps. Just let me try. Where’s your comb? and hairpins? Oh, here they are. No, don’t face the mirror, I want you to be surprised.”
Dotty bustled around, and almost before Miss Partland knew it, she was having her hair dressed by the skilful little hands. The hair was not long or luxurious, but it was of fine texture, and when released from the tight little knob it was wound in, proved slightly wavy. Dot made the most of it, and drawing it up in a soft French twist, she puffed it out at the sides, and made a most becoming and transforming coiffure.
“There!” she said, “you’re real pretty now, and I’d like to see anybody say you look sick!”
Miss Partland looked in the glass and was astounded. The unwonted performance had brought the colour to her cheeks, and interest to her eyes, and when she saw the whole effect in the mirror, she fairly beamed with delight.
“Now, haven’t you a nicer kimono, or dressing gown? This isn’t very pretty for afternoon, and the doctor coming and all.”
Miss Partland looked amazed. “I never thought about it,” she said; “I haven’t any other,—or, that is—yes, I have one my sister sent me for Christmas, but I’ve never worn it. It’s too nice.”
“Mayn’t we see it?”
Miss Partland went to the closet and brought out a big box. From it she took a beautiful Japanese kimono of pale blue silk, embroidered with pink chrysanthemums.
“There,” she said, “you see I couldn’t wear that.”
“Why not?” cried Dolly. “It’s lovely! And it just suits your blonde colouring.”
This was stretching the point a little, for Miss Partland’s blondeness was of the type known as ash, and her faded complexion and dull light blue eyes hardly deserved the name of colouring.
But Dolly was sincere, and she meant to make the most of what little natural vanity the lady possessed.
“Yes, indeed,” chimed in Dotty. “That’s too pretty to be buried in an old dark closet! Put it on, quick, before the doctor gets here!”
A little bewildered, Miss Partland hurried into the robe, and the girls were astounded at the becomingness of it.
“Well, well!” cried Dotty. “Try our plans, and you will be surprised at the result! Why, Miss Partland, you’re a hummer! A regular peach! Isn’t she, Doll?”
“Yes-sir-ee!” And Dolly patted the blue silk approvingly. Then they wound the blue sash, that belonged to the robe, round about her, and tucked the ends in in Chinese fashion.
“You must put that on every day after school,” said Dotty, “it’s lovely on you.”
“But it’s too nice. I never dreamed of wearing it—”
“No matter, just you wear it, and when it’s worn out I ’spect sister’ll give you another.”
“Of course she would, she’s awfully fond of me.”
“She’d be fonder, if she could see you now. Clothes make a heap of difference,” and Dotty nodded her head sagely. “My goodness, here’s the doctor! I hear his automobile stopping. Yes, it is,” as she peeped from the window. “Shall we go home, Miss Partland?”
“No, just go in the next room, and after he’s gone, I’ll tell you what he said.”
“Oh, thank you, I do want to know,” said Dolly, and the two ran into the next room and shut the door.
A little time later, Miss Partland opened the door and summoned them. She was smiling and so happy looking that she was almost pretty,—a word rarely used in connection with the Geometry teacher.
“Come in, girls,” she said. “The doctor says I have no heart trouble of any sort, and that I am as sound as a dollar!”
“Did he say what ailed you yesterday?”
“He said I was probably nervous over some trifle, but he said it had left no trace, for my nerves are all right now. And, what do you think? He said that as I had enough interest in life to take some pains with my toilette, I was in no danger of nervous prostration! And just think! Before you two came in, I was wondering whether I’d better go to a sanitarium!”
“Oh, Miss Partland! Not really!”
“Yes, really. I thought my whole nervous system was shattered. Everybody said I looked so ill, and they gave me such commiserating glances—”
“Well, they won’t any more,” interrupted Dotty, who was cut to the soul by these remarks. Well she knew whose suggestions and whose glances had brought about the sad state of things.
“And now,” said practical Dolly, “I’m going to straighten up this room a little. You may have more callers.”
She whisked away the bowl and bottles into the bathroom. She straightened the shades, dusted a little, and with a few deft touches here and there, she made the room tidy and neat. She found a glass vase which she washed, and setting it on the table, said, “We must go now, Miss Partland, but I’m going to send you a few flowers, and I want you to put them in this vase, and set them right here on the table, will you?”
“Indeed I will, you dear child. You’re dear little girls, both, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for your pleasant call. I can’t promise to wear this elaborate gown every day, but I will buy myself one that is more presentable than the one I had on when you came.”
“And have it pretty, Miss Partland,” begged Dolly; “pretty things keep you from getting sick.”
“I wonder if they do, you little rascal; how do you know?”
“Well, maybe they wouldn’t keep you from getting chicken pox, they didn’t me, but I’m just sure they’re good for nervous prostration.”
“I shouldn’t wonder a bit,” and Miss Partland smiled brightly as she bade the girls good-bye.
“Now I’m going to get her some flowers,” said Dolly as they reached the street. “I haven’t much left of my allowance, but I can get her half a dozen carnations or two roses. Which would you, Dot?”
“Carnations, I guess. They last longer. I’m going to get her a couple of fruits. Say, a grapefruit and an orange, how’s that?”
“Fine! I’m glad you thought of it. It’ll cheer her a lot. I say, Dot, we did do her some good.”
“I should say we did! But it was all your doing, I just went along.”
“Nonsense! You did as much as I did. Why, I don’t know how you ever thought of fussing up her hair! It was just the thing, but it never would have occurred to me.”
“I dunno myself how I happened to think of it. But her old head looked so frowsy and untidy, I wanted to see if it would make a difference. And it did!”
“I should say so! Here’s the fruit store. Going in?”
“Yes, come on.”
They went in, and Dotty made a judicious selection of two oranges and a bunch of white grapes, as they were not sure Miss Partland cared for grapefruit.
“And if any onedoesn’tlike it,” said Dotty, making a wry face, “they don’t like it all over!Ican’t abide it!”
“I love it,” returned Dolly, “but as you say, Dot, if people don’t like it they don’t. Grapes are much safer. Now, come on to the flower shop.”
A half dozen carnations of an exquisite shade were available for the money Dolly had, and it was with great satisfaction she saw them put in a box and sent off at once to Miss Partland.
“I say, Dolly, you’re an awful trump!” declared Dotty, as they walked along. “I never should have thought of going to fix things up with old Party. And now, I’m awful glad we did. Why is it, you always have these good thinks and I never do?”
“I dunno. Sometimes it makes me mad though when the boys call me goody-goody. And Celia Ferris said I was a spoilsport. That isn’t very nice to be called, Dot, is it?”
“No; but you always come out all right. You see, I’m full of the dickens, and when the boys want me to cut up jinks, I go into it head over heels without thinking. You hesitate, and think it over and then you do the right thing.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe Iaman old Primmy, as Tad calls me. Hello, here’s Tad now.”
Tad Brown met them as he came flying round a corner, closely followed by his twin brother Tod.
“Hello, girls,” Tad called out. “Been to old Party’s? How is she?”
“She’s all right,” and Dolly laughed gaily. “She’s had the doctor and he says her heart’s sound as a dollar. So you see your old joke didn’t hurt her, after all.”
“But it would have,” put in Dotty, “if Doll hadn’t gone there and chirked her up, and told her she wasn’t sick at all.”
“You went too,” said Dolly, laughing.
“Oh, ’course. Whithersoever thou goest, theresoever will I also went. And say, boys, you’ve got to be gooder’n pie to-morrow, and every day, to make up to old Party for your badness. She’s a funny old thing, but she’s nice, and since I’ve seen her at home, I feel different toward her, more intimate like and sorry for her.”
“All right,” said Tad, heartily. “I’m ready to be good. I’m pretty well ashamed of that old joke business, since it turned out so badly.”
“Me, too,” and Tod shook his head. “I thought it was funny at first, but it didn’t pan out well. I’ll never play another joke on anybody! any way, not till the next time. Going to the High School Dance, girls?”
“Yes, indeedy!” and Dolly’s eyes glistened. “Won’t it be fun? It is the first time I’ve ever been to an evening party.”
“Go with me?” and Tod paused in the street, and swept his best dancing-school bow.
“Gracious, I don’t know,” said Dolly, overcome at this sudden grown-upness. “I don’t believe mother will let me go with a boy.”
“Oh, yes, she will,” said Tad. “Just to a school dance. You go with Tod, Dolly; and, Dot, you go with me, and then we’ll be all in the same boat.”
“I’d like to,” said Dolly, “but I’m sure mother won’t let me. What do you think, Dot?”
“I think my mother will muchly object at first, but I think I can coax her into it.”
“Why, all the girls will go with the boys,” said Tad eagerly. “They always do. You see our bunch has never been in High School before, and when we’re in Rome we must do as the Turkeys do.”
“Who is going with who else, that you know of?”
“Oh, Celia Ferris is going with Lollie Henry, and Joe Collins—”
“Well, what about Joe Collins?” asked Dolly.
“Oh, nothin’.”
“Yes, there is, too; what made you stop short?”
“Well, if you must know, he said he was going to ask you.”
“Oh, do you boys talk it all over,—about who you’ll take, I mean?”
“Sure we do,” said Tod, grinning. “I gave Joe my new knife if he’d let me ask you first.”
“You didn’t!” and Dolly looked shocked.
“No, of course he didn’t!” said Tad. “Don’t you let him fool you, Dolly.”
The quartette had walked along to the Fayres’ house, and the boys wanted to go in and see how the house was coming on. But Dolly wouldn’t allow this, as she said she must study her lessons.
“And you must all go home and study,” she said shaking her golden head at them. “I want you to have good lessons to-morrow, and cheer Miss Party up.”
“I’ll tell her she’s looking blooming,” said Tad, laughing over his shoulder as he went away.
“I’ll tell her she’s a perfect peach!” declared Tod, and then with gay good-byes they parted.
CHAPTER IVTHE HIGH SCHOOL DANCE
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Fayre, doubtfully, when Dolly asked her about going to the dance with Tod. “You’re not old enough to go to an evening party with an escort. Why, you’re only fifteen.”
“But this is a school party, Mumsie, and it seems different.”
“I think so, too,” said Trudy. “I went to High School parties with the boys when I was fifteen,—or sixteen, anyway.”
“But sixteen seems so much older. Why, Dolly’s wearing hair-ribbons yet.”
“Well,” and Trudy laughed, “they’ll allow hair ribbons at a High School dance. Why, Mother, it’s part of the course, in a way. It teaches the boys and girls how to behave in Society—”
“Dolly can learn that at home.”
“Not unless she has lots of parties and dances, I mean party manners.”
“Well, I’m willing she should go, but I don’t like her going with Tod Brown.”
“Why, he’s an awfully nice boy. The Browns are among the best people of Berwick.”
“I know that, Trudy,—Tod’s all right. But I think your father ought to take Dolly and go after her.”
“Oh, Mother, they don’t do that nowadays. But Dolly can go in our car, and stop for Tod, that would be all right. And Thomas could go and bring them home.”
“That seems to me a very queer way to do. But we’ll see what your father says about it.”
Mr. Fayre, appealed to, was helpless.
“Why, bless my soul, Edith,” he said to his wife, “I don’t know about such things. When I was a boy, we went home with the girls, of course. But nowadays I suppose the ways are different. You women folks ought to be able to settle that question.”
“They are, Daddy,” said Dolly, sidling up to him, and patting his hand. “But I’d just as lieve you’d take me, if you want the bother of it.”
“I don’t mind the bother, Chickadee, if it’s necessary. But when youdoget old enough to let the Brownies take you to parties, I shan’t be sorry!”
“Well, now, I’ll settle the matter,” said Mrs. Fayre, smiling at her younger daughter. “This time, let Daddy take you, and the next time we’ll see about it. Youaregrowing up, I suppose, and, too, one has to do as other people do. But this first dance, I’d rather you went with father.”
“All right, Mumsie, I’m willing. I don’t s’pose it’ll be much of a party anyhow. Just the school girls and boys, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Trudy. “When I went to High, dances were pretty nice affairs. What shall she wear?”
“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Fayre. “I’ll have to ask the mothers of some of the other girls how much they dress. A white frock, I should think, with some flowers or ribbons.”
Dolly was satisfied with the outcome of the discussion, but quite another scene was being enacted next door.
“I’m going to the High School Dance with Tad Brown,” Dotty announced at the dinner table.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” returned her mother. “A child of your age going out in the evening with a boy escort! Ridiculous!”
“But Iam,” went on Dotty, decidedly. “Dolly’s going with Tod, and I’m going with Tad.”
“Did Dolly’s mother say she might?”
“I dunno. But we’re going. And I want a new red chiffon to wear.”
“Red chiffon! You’d look fine in red chiffon at your age! Now, be sensible, Dotty, if you go to that dance, you must let your father take you, and you must wear one of your white summer dresses.”
“But, Mother, all the girls are going to have new dresses. Celia Ferris is going to have a white satin—”
“A white satin! for a High School girl! How absurd!”
“Well, I don’t want white satin, but Idowant a new dress. Can’t I have it, Father?”
“Now, now, Dotty, don’t tease.”
“But, Father, can’t I?”
“Why,Ishould think you might. You’re a nice little girl. But, of course, it must be as mother says.”
“Say, yes, Mother, do say yes. Won’t you, Mother?Won’tyou? Aunt Clara, youbegher to, won’t you?Won’tyou, Aunt Clara?”
“Good gracious, child, stop teasing,” and Mr. Rose glowered at Dotty so very fiercely, that she knew he was not in earnest.
“Stop teasing, Dotty,” said Genie, her little sister. “You know very well that teasing won’t get what you want.”
Genie looked so comical, as she shook her fat little forefinger at Dotty, that they all laughed.
“Cry, that’s the bestest way,” Genie went on. “If you cry hard enough, you’re sure to get it.”
“That’s all right for little kiddies like you, Gene, but big girls don’t cry. They just say what they want, and then if their parents are nice, loving, affectionate, good-hearted people, I should think they would get their wishes.”
“Well put, Dottikins,” cried her father. “I guess, Mother, the little girl will have to have her new furbelows. Of course, you’ll get something suitable. Say, a nice blue gingham.”
Dotty smiled absently at this mild jest, and went on, her first point gained, to her second.
“And I want to go with Tad. I don’t want to go with father, like a baby. All the girls are going with the boys. Celia Ferris is going with Lollie Henry—”
“That question must wait, Dorothy,” and when Mrs. Rose used that name, Dotty knew she was very much in earnest. “I’m comparatively new in Berwick, and I must find out what the other mothers think about it before I decide. Now, stop teasing; after I confer with some of the ladies I’ll decide. I don’t think much of Celia Ferris as a model. And I’m by no means sure Dolly’s mother will let her go with Tod. So you must wait and see.”
Dotty knew from her mother’s manner there was no use teasing any more, so she turned her attention back to her frock.
“Well, if it can’t be red chiffon, Mother, can’t it be red organdie?”
“We’ll see about it. If you’re so bent on a red dress, perhaps we can hunt one up.” Mrs. Fayre smiled at her impetuous daughter, and Dotty felt sure she had secured a red gown, at least.
The two neighbouring mothers talked matters over, and it was finally decided that the girls should not be allowed to go to the party with the boys this time, but perhaps they might later in the season. For the dances were occasional, and sometimes there were three or four during the winter. It was arranged that Mr. Fayre should take the two D’s and that Mr. Rose should go to bring them home, after the dance was over.
But new dresses were allowed, and Dotty’s of red organdie, and Dolly’s of white organdie and blue ribbons, were both pretty and appropriate.
They had new party cloaks, too, the first they had ever owned, and it made them feel exceedingly grown-up to have them flung round their shoulders. Dolly’s was of light blue cashmere, edged with swansdown, and Dotty’s was of scarlet cloth, bordered with a quilling of black satin. Hats were out of the question, and Mrs. Fayre presented each of the girls with a little lace scarf to wear on her head.
Very pretty they looked, as, all equipped at last, they got into the Fayre car, and rolled away. Mr. Fayre gave them alternately, compliments on their appearance and advice as to how to behave.
“Why, Dads,” said Dolly, laughing, “any one would think we had never been out before.”
“Well, you haven’t; that is, to a real evening party.”
“No, but we went to a dance down at Surfwood, it can’t be so very different.”
“No, I suppose not,” rejoined Mr. Fayre, and then they were at the School.
The dance was held in the big Assembly Room, and the Committee had decorated it with flowers and palms, so that it had a gala air indeed. The girls went to the cloak room, and as they emerged, the Brown twins met them. Such dressy Brown twins! And indeed, everybody looked different from the schoolmates they were.
“Hello,” said Tad; “come on, you’re late. The girls are getting their cards all filled up. Here are yours.”
The two D’s took their Dance Programmes a little shyly. They had never had them before, for this was their first real Dance Party.
“S’pose nobody asks me to dance!” said Dotty, in a sudden fit of shyness.
“Oh, nonsense!” cried Dolly, “everybody’ll ask you.”
“You should worry!” exclaimed Tad, looking at his pretty partner with an appreciative eye. “Here, give me both your cards. I want a lot of dances that I can manage. I’m not much on the fancy steps.”
He took the cards and began scribbling his initials.
“Stop!” said Dotty, laughing; “you’re taking too many, Tad.”
“Oh, ho! and you were so ’fraid nobody’d ask you! You’re a sly-boots.”
“Well, I want a few left, if anybodyshouldask,” and even as she spoke, several of the boys came clustering round her and Dolly, and very soon their cards were well filled.
Then the fun began. The two D’s were both good dancers, and as nearly all the young people went to the Berwick Dancing School, they had plenty of good partners. After each dance they walked about the room or sat and chatted.
To Dolly’s surprise there were a great many strangers present. For, contrary to the ideas of the elder Fayres and Roses, nearly all the girls did come with boy escorts, and as many girls were not invited by the schoolboys, they asked friends from out of town. There were also girl guests from neighbouring cities, and altogether, the affair was quite large.
Celia Ferris had her white satin, but it was veiled with soft white tulle, and made a very pretty, girlish dance-frock.
Celia was chummy with the two D’s, but she had begun to feel a little jealous of them, for they were exceedingly popular, and received a great deal of attention. However, she was pleasant-mannered, and spoke cordially with them whenever they met.
After a time Dolly noticed a girl, who seemed to be a wall-flower. She was a nice-looking and well-dressed girl, but she danced very seldom, and most of the time sat discontentedly looking at the others.
There were some other wall-flowers, as is always the case, but none were so frequently left partnerless as this particular girl.
“Who is she?” asked Dolly of Lollie Henry, with whom she happened to be dancing.
“Oh, that’s Bernice Forbes. She’s a muff.”
“Don’t be rude, Lollie. What do you mean,—a muff?”
“Nothing, only she hasn’t anygoto her,—any life, any vim, you know.”
“But she might, if she were asked to dance oftener. Have you asked her?”
“Not much! I don’t dance with B. Forbes, when I can get anybody else.”
“That isn’t very nice of you,” and Dolly looked reproachfully at her partner. “Won’t you ask her once, just to please me?”
“I’d do a lot to please you, sister, but B. F. is a little too much. Hello, they’re going to supper. Who’d you come with? Tad or Tod?”
“I’m supposed to have come with Tod. But really my father brought me.”
“I know. It’s all the same. The Brownies picked you up after you got there,—you and Dot. And here comes Tod after you, I must fly to seek my own special.”
Lollie went off, and Tod escorted Dolly to the supper room. The feast was not grand, as High School affairs are limited, but everybody enjoyed it. The D’s and the Browns found a place in a pleasant alcove, and were joined by Celia Ferris and the Rawlins girls and a lot more of their particular friends.
Dolly noticed Bernice Forbes, sitting apart from the rest. With her was a boy Dolly did not know.
“Who is he?” she whispered to Joe Collins.
“Dunno. Some chap the Forbes girl brought. Of course no Berwick boy would ask her.”
“Why not?”
“Stick. Can’t say boo to a goose!”
“Is that the reason the Berwick boys don’t want to talk to her?” asked Dolly mischievously, and Joe laughed.
“Honest, Dolly, she’s fearful. Just a lump, you know. But don’t you know her?”
“Never did till I went to High. She was at another Grammar School from the one I went to. She dresses well.”
“She ought to. Her father is the richest man in Berwick.”
“Oh, is she the daughter of Mr. Forbes, the railroad man?”
“She sure is. Now do you know her better?”
“I should say so! Why, my father is in one of the offices of Mr. Forbes’ company.”
“That so? Well, steer clear of the fair Bernice, believe me!”
And then the sandwiches and ice cream and cakes arrived, and the healthy young appetites did full justice to them.
“Tell us all about your new house, Dotty,” somebody was saying.
“ ’Tisn’t mine any more than Dolly Fayre’s. It belongs to us jointly and severally, as my father says.”
“When will it be finished?”
“In a couple of weeks now, I guess. We’re going to have a Hallowe’en party to open it. I hope you’ll all come.”
“Is this the invitation?” said Clayton Rawlins; “if so, I accept.”
“Oh, no, this isn’t the regular invitation. That will come later.”
“You can’t have a very big party,” said Celia. “The house won’t hold very many.”
“It’s going to be a mixed-around party,” explained Dolly. “Some of it will be in our two own houses and some in Treasure House.”
“Is that what you call it? How pretty,” and Grace Rawlins smiled at Dolly.
“Yes, Treasure House, because it’s our treasure and because we’re going to keep our treasures in it. Oh, it’s going to be the greatest fun! You must all come over and see it. Don’t wait for Hallowe’en. Come any time.”
After supper there were a few more dances before going home time.
With some interest, Dolly watched the Forbes girl. She danced a few times with the boy with her and the rest of the time she sat alone.
Reggie Stuart came to Dolly for a dance.
“Say, Reg,” she said, “won’t you let me off of this, and go and dance it with Bernice Forbes?”
“WillI! Not! What’s the matter, don’t you want to dance with me?”
“Yes, of course. It isn’t that, but—but she looks lonely.”
“Good work! She ought to look lonely. It’s her own fault, Dolly.”
“Her own fault, how?”
“Oh, she doesn’t try to be gay and perky and smiley and laughy,—like,—well, like you are. But if you don’t want me for a partner—”
“Oh, ridiculous, Reg! Of course I do. Come on.”
They danced away, and for that night at least, Dolly gave up trying to get the boys to dance with Bernice. Reginald was not the first one she had asked, nor the second; but one and all they had refused.
CHAPTER VTREASURE HOUSE
Atlast the day came when Treasure House was finished. Painted, papered, furnished, it now lacked only the finishing touches that the eager hands of the Two D’s were ready to give.
A Saturday was to be devoted to this fascinating work, and bright and early, Dotty and Dolly were signalling each other from their bedroom windows that the time had arrived.
Rather slim and very hurried were their breakfasts, and very abstracted and absentminded their conversation.
“Dot,” said Mr. Rose, “do have a little scrap more of this nice bacon.”
Dotty looked at her father, unseeing, and letting her gaze rove to her mother, she said, “Which centrepiece would you put on the table first, Aunt Clara’s or the one Trudy made?”
“Use mine first,” spoke up Aunt Clara, “for Trudy’s is much handsomer, and you’d better keep it for a party occasion.”
“That’s so,” and Dotty nodded her head.
Meanwhile, Mr. Rose had sat patiently, serving fork and spoon held over the dish of curly, crisp bacon and golden eggs. “I asked you a question, Dotty,” he said, in an injured tone.
Again Dotty gave him that blank stare. “And, Mother,” she went on, “if you’d just as lieve we’d have that blue Japanese table mat, for the Study table, I’ll take it over with me. When I—”
“Dorothy Rose,” said her father, with mock severity, “amI to hold this fork all day? Will you, or will younot, have some bacon?”
“What? Have what? Oh, Daddy,didyou bring the screw hooks home last night? You didn’t forget to get them, did you?”
“Bacon! Bacon!Bacon!” shouted Mr. Rose. “I said bacon!”
“And the doormat,—you promised to order the doormat, Father—”
“Bacon!”
“The fire sets came—”
“Bacon!”
“Oh, how you made me jump! No, I don’t want any bacon, I had some—I think. Anyway, I’m through breakfast, aren’t you, Dad? Do hurry up. I want you to go over with me—oh, there’s Doll!”
Dolly came in, her arms full of things for the house.
“I didn’t want to go in without you, Dot,” she said. “Goodness, aren’t you through breakfast yet? I couldn’t eat a thing, hardly.”
“Sit down here, and have some bacon, Dolly,” said Mr. Rose, hospitably.
“Dad, if you say bacon again, I’ll just perfectly fly! Dolly doesn’t want any, do you, Doll?”
“No, ’course not! I mean no, thank you, Mr. Rose. Oh, we can’t wait another minute. Come on, Dot!”
Dotty grabbed up some things she had ready to take, and the two flew out of the side door and over to Treasure House.
It was a gorgeous morning in late October, and as the house faced the south, the sun was already flooding the front piazza of their new domain. Each girl had a key, and as they went up the steps, Dolly began hunting in her coat pocket for hers.
“Old Slowy!” cried Dotty, and, her own key already in her hand, she snapped it into the lock, and threw open the door.
“Will you walk into my parlour, said the flyder to the spy!” and with a flourish she stood aside for Dolly to enter.
“No, we must go in together. Why, Dot, this first entrance ought to be a rite, a—a ceremonial, you know.”
“Ceremonial, your grandmother! Come on in!” and grabbing Dolly’s arm, the two bounced in, spilling their parcels, and laughing so hard that there was small suggestion of ceremony.
They fell breathless, in the two easy chairs that stood either side of the fireplace, and just grinned at each other.
“The day’s come!” exclaimed Dotty; “we’re really here! Oh, Doll, can you believe it?”
“No, I simpullycan’t! It’s too good to be true! Now, shall we light a fire, or fix things up first?”
“How far have you progressed?” asked a voice at the door, and Mr. Rose came in, smiling. “Want any help? I’ve half an hour to spare. Can I start a fire for you?”
“Oh, do, Dad! And show us just how, and then we can do it ourselves after this.”
“Pooh,” said Dolly, “I know how to make a fire,—I learned long ago. But it would be better to have Mr. Rose make the first one, and see if the chimney draws all right.”
Dolly looked up the flue with the air of a connoisseur on fireplaces, and Mr. Rose laughed good naturedly at her.
“The secret of a successful fire is plenty of paper and kindling-wood,” he said, as he twisted newspapers into hard rolls. Then he added light sticks and finally good-sized logs, and declared the fire was laid.
“Now the lighting of this, your first hearth fire, should be a ceremony,” he said.
“There, Dotty, I told you we ought to have a ceremony! Which of us will light it?”
“Both together, of course. Give us each a match, Dad.”
Mr. Rose gave each of the girls a match, and as they were about to strike them, he showed them where to touch the protruding ends of paper, which he had purposely arranged.
“Now,” he said, “One, Two, Three,Go! May joy attend all who surround the Hearthstone fires of Treasure House!”
The matches blazed, caught the paper, ignited the kindling, and flames shot up with a glow and a crackle.
It was an exciting moment for the two girls. They fell into each other’s arms, and while Dotty was shouting “Hooray!” at the top of her lungs, the tears were rolling down Dolly’s cheeks.
“You Goosie!” cried Dotty. “What under the sun are you crying about?”
“ ’Cause I’m so happy. And anyway, it’s my own house, I’ve got a right to cry in it, if I want to.”
But she was smiling now, the tense moment had passed, and together they danced wildly round the room.
“I’ll have to be going,” said Mr. Rose, looking at his watch, “you two Apache Indians had better calm down and get to work. There’s a lot to be done, I’m thinking.”
“But we’ve got all our lives to do it in,” said Dolly, laughing. “There’s no hurry, and I must get my eyes used to it a little first.”
Mr. Rose went off, and the two girls stood looking about, as if they never could look enough.
And this is what they saw. The Study, flooded with the Autumn sunlight, and bright with the blazing fire. Walls hung with plain paper of a lovely greyish green, with a bordering frieze of foliage in darker shades. Windows curtained with green silk over lace bordered scrim. Two wide window-seats, at opposite sides of the room, cushioned in green, and provided with many soft, ample-sized green cushions. The woodwork was white, the low bookshelves were white, and the furniture was Mission.
The two desks had arrived, and were placed at the two ends of the room. Theoretically, the whole room was divided in halves, Dolly owning the side toward her home, and Dotty the side toward hers. Under the window seats were little cupboards for school books, and besides, there was a roomy coat-closet for each, with shelves and hooks.
A big table in the middle of the room held an electrolier, and each girl was to fill her side of the table with such books or bric-à-brac as she saw fit. Altogether, it was the cosiest, homiest, dearest room a girl ever had to study or play in, and it thoroughly satisfied the Two D’s.
“Now let’s gaze on the dining-room,” said Dolly. “I haven’t seen it since last night.”
Arms round each other, they went to the next room. That, of course, was a north room, and so it had been furnished in yellow. The yellow wallpaper, with a border of daffodils, was like sunshine, and the chairs and table were of yellow painted wood. The curtains were of thin yellow silk, and the glass door of the cupboard showed a set of yellow china. A big yellow bowl, of Chinese ware, had been Mrs. Fayre’s especial gift; though the parents and relatives had all contributed generously to the furnishings. Bob and Bert had sent gifts; one a clock and one a picture.
Their pictures were few, as yet, for the girls didn’t want the discarded ones in their home attics, and preferred to wait till time should bring some good ones as Christmas or birthday gifts.
“You see,” said Dolly, as they talked this over, “we don’t want to get it all finished at once, or we’ll have nothing to look forward to. Let’s do it slowly, by degrees, and get first, just what we have to have.”
“Yes,” agreed Dotty, “only I’m so impatient, I can’t wait to do things slowly. I wish I could just wave my hand, and everything would be finished!”
“Goosie! Well, let’s go to work, and do up what’s to be done right now. Mother’s coming over pretty soon, and I want her to see it looking nice. I’ll make the dining-room fire,—or don’t we need one?”
“Not yet, Doll. We’ll be flying round, working, and that will keep us warm. Let’s not light it till afternoon.”
“All right. Come on and gaze at the kitchen.”
The kitchenette was a dream in shining nickel and white enamel. Mr. Fayre was a busy man, and hadn’t the time to devote to the children that Mr. Rose could command, so he had insisted on making up by putting in the entire electrical outfit. There was provision for cooking, toasting, coffee-making, candy-making, and some contraptions of which the girls did not yet know the use.
A small, but complete kitchen cabinet contained everything the most fastidious housekeeper could desire, and a wall cupboard held a supply of neatly hemmed dish towels, dusters and such matters.
“Isn’t it great!” exclaimed Dolly. “That white enamelled sink is dainty enough for a fairy’s bath! And do observe this corn-popper!”
“And this glass lemon-squeezer! Let’s make some lemonade now!”
“Oh, not now! It’s just after breakfast.”
“Well, it’s eleven o’clock, just the same.”
“It is! Whew! we must fly round. Don’t talk about lemonade, Dot; let’s put our books on their shelves, and fix the mantel and table.”
“All right, say we do.”
A basket of trinkets from each house stood waiting, and the two unpacked and placed their treasures. Such absorbing work as it was! No very valuable things had been brought, lest light-fingered gentry should prowl round some dark night, but lots of pretty things were available.
“ ’Course we divide the mantel, same’s everything else,” observed Dolly, as she came, with a tiny ivory elephant and a larger teakwood one. “Let’s put Bert’s clock in the middle, and then each fix our own half. I’ve just got to have my two dearie efelunts here, and the brass candlestick Grandma gave me. There, I think that’s enough for my end.”
“Looks awful skinny. I’ve a lot of stuff for my half. See; this pair of vases, and this plaster cast of Dante, and this big white china cat, and this inkstand—”
“Oh, Dot, don’t put an inkstand up there! Put that on your desk.”
“Oh, it isn’t a using inkstand. It’s just a show one. Aunt Clara gave it to me last Christmas. See, it’s iridescent glass.”
“I know it is, but it looks like fury up there, and your end is too crowded, anyway.”
“Pooh, I think yours is too skimpy. Looks awful vacant, with nothing but two elephants and a candlestick!”
“But it’s right not to have such a lot of dinky doodaddles all over the place. Your end looks like a junk shop!”
But, imperturbably, Dotty added a big, pink-lined conch shell and a fussy beribboned calendar. “I like what I like, Dolly Fayre, and I’ve as much right to fill up my space as you have to waste yours. You might rent out a few square feet to me.”
“ ’Deed I won’t! Dot, that bunch of rubbish is fierce! All the girls will laugh at it.”
“Let ’em, I don’t care. I’ve had that shell ever since I was a tiny mite. It’s my oldest treasure.”
“Your old-fashionedest, you mean. Say, Dot, weed out half of those frights, and I’ll give you one of my candlesticks. They’d look fine at each end.”
“No-sir-ee! I insist on my rights, my whole rights and nothing but my rights! E pluribus unum, Erin go bragh!”
Dotty executed a species of war dance, and shook her fist defiantly at Dolly, who was standing off, admiring her end of the mantel and making wry faces at Dotty’s.
Suddenly Dolly broke into laughter. “We’ll have these scraps all the time, Dot, so I s’pose we may as well make up our minds to let each other do as we please.”
“I like your grammar, and I agree to your dic—dic—what do you call it?”
“Dictum?”
“Yes, dictum. Only you needn’t try to dictumme! We’re joint monarchs of all we survey, and we must let each other survey in our own way. I think my mantel layout is pretty fine. If you don’t I can’t help it.”
“No,” sighed Dolly, “and you can’t help having awful taste in decoration, either.”
“Taste is a matter of opinion, and I opine that my mantel looks as good as yours, only different.”
Then both girls grinned at each other, and the peace was unbroken. But the mantel did look funny!
“Now for our books. Thank goodness, we haven’t got to share our bookshelves, and we can fix the things as we like.”
“We did on the mantel,” said Dolly, laughing. “Well, my nonsense books go above, and my girls’ books below. ‘Alice’ first; then ‘Lear,’ and then the ‘Just so Stories.’ ”
“Well, of course, I’m doing mine different. I’m putting my highbrow books up top. Shakespeare first, and then—”
“Don’t say Milton! You know you’llneverread those things out here, or anywhere, except when you have to write themes on them!”
“But amn’t I going to write themes out here? What are our desks for, I’d like to know?”
“Yes, I s’pose so. Oh, well, fix your books as you like; you will anyway.”