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+Project Gutenberg's The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+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 Adopting of Rosa Marie
+       A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage
+
+Author: Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+Illustrator: Florence Scovel Shinn
+             Miriam Selss
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2014 [EBook #46059]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Beth Baran, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
+Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+    _by_
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+    _Illustrated by_
+    FLORENCE SCOVEL SHINN
+
+    _Frontispiece and jacket in full
+    color by_ MIRIAM SELSS
+
+
+In this charming girl's book we meet again the four chums of _Dandelion
+Cottage_. Their friendship knit closer than ever by their summer at
+playing house, the girls enlarge their activity by mothering a pretty
+little Indian baby.
+
+"Those who have read _Dandelion Cottage_ will need no urge to follow
+further.... A lovable group of four children, happily not perfect, but
+full of girlish plans and pranks and a delightful sense of humor."
+
+    --_Boston Transcript._
+
+Just the type of book that every girl _from eight to fifteen_ enjoys.
+
+[Illustration: "MY SOUL, WHAT ARE YOU, ANYWAY?"]
+
+
+
+
+Dandelion Series
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+(_A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage_)
+
+    BY
+
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+    Author of "Dandelion Cottage," "The Girls of
+    Gardenville," etc.
+
+
+    _With Illustrations by_
+    FLORENCE SCOVEL SHINN
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    NEW YORK
+    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+    COPYRIGHT, 1908,
+    BY
+    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+
+
+    COPYRIGHT, 1936,
+    BY
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+
+    PRINTED IN THE
+    UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+    TO
+
+    EMILY, PHYLLIS, POLLY
+    AND SUZANNE
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+    CHAPTER                          PAGE
+         I. BORROWED BABIES            1
+        II. ROSA MARIE                 9
+       III. MABEL'S DAY               18
+        IV. AN UNUSUAL EVENING        27
+         V. RETURNING ROSA MARIE      34
+        VI. THE DARK SECRET           43
+       VII. DISCOVERY                 52
+      VIII. THE FUGITIVE SOLDIER      64
+        IX. A SURPRISE                73
+         X. BREAKING THE NEWS         83
+        XI. THE ALARM                 91
+       XII. THE FIRE                 101
+      XIII. A HEROINE'S COME-DOWN    111
+       XIV. A BIRTHDAY PARTY         119
+        XV. AN UNEXPECTED TREAT      130
+       XVI. A SCATTERED SCHOOL       140
+      XVII. AN INVITATION            151
+     XVIII. OBEYING INSTRUCTIONS     161
+       XIX. WITH HENRIETTA           173
+        XX. THE CALL RETURNED        183
+       XXI. GETTING EVEN             195
+      XXII. A FULL AFTERNOON         204
+     XXIII. TAKING A WALK            215
+      XXIV. THE STATUE FROM INDIA    226
+       XXV. COMPARING NOTES          237
+      XXVI. CHRISTMAS EVE            248
+     XXVII. A CROWDED DAY            256
+    XXVIII. A BETTIE-LESS PLAN       265
+      XXIX. ANXIOUS DAYS             275
+       XXX. AN APRIL HARVEST         286
+
+
+
+
+THE PERSONS OF THE STORY
+
+
+  BETTIE TUCKER, aged 12:  }
+  JEANIE MAPES,  aged 14:  }  The Cottagers
+  MARJORY VALE,  aged 12:  }
+  MABEL BENNETT, aged 11:  }
+
+  ROSA MARIE: The Unreturnable Baby.
+
+  THE MOTHER OF ROSA MARIE.
+
+  ANNE HALLIDAY:       }
+  THE MARCOTTE TWINS:  }  Borrowed Babies.
+  THE LITTLE TUCKERS:  }
+
+  HENRIETTA BEDFORD: The New Girl.
+
+  MRS. HOWARD SLATER:  }  Of Henrietta's Household.
+  SIMMONS:             }
+
+  THE JANITOR:     An Unappreciated Hero.
+
+  DR. TUCKER:      A Clergyman with More Children than Money.
+
+  DR. BENNETT:     A Physician.
+
+  MR. BLACK:       A Friend to Children.
+
+  MRS. CRANE:      His Sister.
+
+  AUNTY JANE:      Marjory's Sole Visible Relative.
+
+  SOME MOTHERS AND BROTHERS.
+
+  MRS. MALONY:     The Light-hearted Egg-woman.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  MY SOUL, WHAT ARE YOU, ANYWAY                      _Frontispiece_
+                                                              PAGE
+  ROSA MARIE AND THE SIDEWALK WERE ONE                          16
+  THE STURDY FELLOW CARRIED HER OUT OF THE ROOM                112
+  THE DECIDEDLY DEPRESSED FOUR STARTED DOWN THE STREET         164
+  "ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA"                            234
+
+
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Borrowed Babies
+
+
+THE oldest inhabitant said that Lakeville was experiencing an unusual
+fall. He would probably have said the same thing if the high-perched
+town had accidentally tumbled off the bluff into the blue lake; but in
+this instance, he referred merely to the weather, which was certainly
+unusually mild for autumn.
+
+It was not, however, the oldest, but four of the youngest citizens that
+rejoiced most in this unusual prolonging of summer; for the continued
+warm weather made it possible for those devoted friends, Jean Mapes,
+Marjory Vale, Mabel Bennett and little Bettie Tucker, to spend many
+a delightful hour in their precious Dandelion Cottage, the real,
+tumble-down house that was now, after so many narrow escapes, safely
+their very own. Some day, to be sure, it would be torn down to make
+room for a habitable dwelling, but that unhappy day was still too
+remote to cause any uneasiness.
+
+Of course, when very cold weather should come, it would be necessary
+to close the beloved Cottage, for there was no heating plant, there
+were many large cracks over and under the doors and around the windows;
+and by lying very flat on the dining-room floor and peering under
+the baseboards, one could easily see what was happening in the next
+yard. These, and other defects, would surely make the little house
+uninhabitable in winter; but while the unexpectedly extended summer
+lasted, the Cottagers were rejoicing over every pleasant moment of
+weather and praying hard for other pleasant moments.
+
+Of all the games played in Dandelion Cottage, the one called "Mother"
+was the most popular. To play it, it was necessary, first of all, to
+divide the house into four equal parts. As there were five rooms, this
+division might seem to offer no light task; but, by first subtracting
+the kitchen, it was possible to solve this difficult mathematical
+problem to the Cottagers' entire satisfaction.
+
+But of course one can't play "Mother" without possessing a family.
+The Cottagers solved this problem also. Bettie's home could always be
+counted on to furnish at least two decidedly genuine babies and Jean
+could always borrow a perfectly delightful little cousin named Anne
+Halliday; but Marjory and Mabel, to their sorrow, were absolutely
+destitute of infantile relatives. Mabel was the chief sufferer. Sedate
+Marjory, plausible of tongue, convincing in manner, could easily
+accumulate a most attractive family at very short notice by the simple
+expedient of borrowing babies from the next block; but nowhere within
+reasonable reach was there a mother willing to intrust her precious
+offspring a second time to heedless Mabel.
+
+"Now, Mabel," Mrs. Mercer would say, when Mabel pleaded to have young
+Percival for her very own for just one brief hour, "I'd really like to
+oblige you, but it's getting late in the season, you are not careful
+enough about doors and windows and the last time you borrowed Percival
+you brought him home with a stiff neck that lasted three days."
+
+"But I did remember to return him," pleaded Mabel.
+
+"Do you sometimes forget?" queried Mrs. Mercer, with interest.
+
+"I did twice," confessed always honest Mabel; "but truly I don't see
+how _I_ can help it when babies sleep and sleep and sleep the way those
+two did. You see, I made a bed for Gerald Price on the lowest-down
+closet shelf, and he was so perfectly comfortable that he thought he
+was asleep for all night."
+
+"What about the other time?"
+
+"That was Mollie Dixon. But then, I had five children that day and only
+one bed. Mollie slipped down in the crack at the back--she's awfully
+thin--and I never missed her until her mother came after her. That was
+rather a bad time [Mabel sighed at the recollection] for Mrs. Dixon
+found the Cottage locked up for the night and poor little Mollie crying
+under the bed."
+
+"Mabel! And you want to borrow my precious Percival!"
+
+"But it couldn't happen _again_," protested Mabel, earnestly. "Bettie
+says that I'm just like lightning; I never strike twice in the same
+place. That's the reason I get into so many different kinds of scrapes.
+I'll be ever so careful, though, if you'll let me borrow Percival just
+this one time."
+
+Mrs. Mercer, however, refused to part with Percival. Other mothers,
+approached by pleading Mabel, refused likewise to intrust their babies
+to her enthusiastic but heedless keeping. They knew her too well.
+
+"The thing for you to do," suggested Marjory, ostentatiously washing
+the perfectly clean faces of the four delightful small persons that she
+had been able, without any trouble at all, to borrow in Blaker Street,
+"is to find a mother that really _wants_ to get rid of her children."
+
+"Yes," said Bob Tucker, who had dropped in to deliver the basket of
+apples that Mrs. Crane had sent to her former neighbors, "you ought to
+advertise for the kind of mother that feeds her babies to crocodiles.
+Perhaps some of them have emigrated to this country and sort of miss
+the Ganges River."
+
+"You might try the orphan asylum," offered Jean, as balm for this
+wound. "It's only four blocks from here."
+
+"I have," returned Mabel, dejectedly. "I went there early this morning."
+
+"What happened?" demanded Bettie, who had just arrived with a little
+Tucker under each arm.
+
+"They said they'd let them go 'permanently to responsible parties.' I
+didn't know just exactly what that meant, so I said: 'Does that mean
+that you'll lend me a few for two hours?'"
+
+"And would they?"
+
+"Well, they didn't. They said I'd better borrow a Teddy bear."
+
+"How mean," said sympathetic Bettie. "Nevermind, I'll lend you Peter,
+this time."
+
+"Say," queried Mabel, after she had accepted Bettie's proffered
+brother, "what does 'permanently' mean?"
+
+"For keeps," explained Jean.
+
+"What are 'responsible parties'?"
+
+"Jean and Bettie and I," twinkled Marjory, "but not you."
+
+"That's good," laughed Bob, who, like Marjory, loved to tease. "But
+never mind, Mabel. After you've practised a year or two on Peter,
+who's a nuisance if there ever was one, you'll find yourself growing
+respons---- Whoop! What was that?"
+
+"That" was a sudden crash that resounded through the house. Everybody
+rushed to the kitchen. The big dish-pan that Mabel had left on the
+edge of the kitchen table was upside down on the floor. At least
+half of little Peter Tucker was under it. But the half that remained
+outside was so unmistakably alive that nobody felt very seriously
+alarmed--except Peter.
+
+"Thank goodness!" said Mabel, removing the pan, "this is just a little
+Tucker and not any Percival Mercer! Cheer up, Peter. You're not as wet
+as you think you are. There wasn't more than a quart of water in that
+pan and it was almost perfectly clean."
+
+And Peter, soothed by Mabel's reassuring tone, immediately cheered up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Rosa Marie
+
+
+NOT long after Mabel's ineffectual attempt to borrow an orphan Mrs.
+Bennett dispatched her small daughter to Lake Street to find out, if
+possible, why Mrs. Malony, the poultry woman, had failed to send the
+week's supply of fresh eggs.
+
+Now, the way to Mrs. Malony's was most interesting, particularly to a
+young person of observing habits. There were houses on only one side
+of the street and most of those were tumbling down under the weight of
+the sand that each rain carried down the hillside. But the opposite
+side of the road was even more attractive, for there one had a grassy,
+shrubby bank where one could pick all sorts of things off bushes and
+get burrs in one's stockings; a narrow stretch of pebbled beach where
+one could sometimes find an agate, and a wide basin of very shallow
+water where one could almost--but not quite--step from stone to stone
+without wetting one's feet. It was certainly an enjoyable spot. The
+distance from Mabel's home to Mrs. Malony's was very short--a matter of
+perhaps five blocks. But if a body went the longest way round, stopped
+to scour the green bank for belated blackberries, prickly hazelnuts,
+dazzling golden-rod or rare four-leaved clovers; or loitered to gather
+a dress-skirtful of stony treasures from the glittering beach, going to
+Mrs. Malony's meant a great deal more than a five blocks' journey.
+
+Just a little beyond the poultry woman's house, on the lake side of
+the straggling street, a small, but decidedly attractive point of land
+jutted waterward for perhaps two hundred feet. On this projecting point
+stood a small shanty or shack, built, as Mabel described it later,
+mostly of knot-holes. She meant, without knowing how to say it, that
+the lumber in the hut was of the poorest possible quality.
+
+On this long-to-be-remembered day, a small object moving in the
+clearing that surrounded the shack attracted Mabel's attention.
+Curiosity led her closer to investigate.
+
+"It's just as I thought!" exclaimed Mabel, peering rapturously through
+the bushes. "It's a real baby!"
+
+Sure enough! It _was_ a baby.
+
+Mabel edged closer, moving cautiously for fear of frightening her
+unexpected find. She saw a small toddler, aged somewhere between two
+and three years, roving aimlessly about the chip-strewn clearing. The
+child's round cheeks, chubby wrists, bare feet and sturdy legs were
+richly brown. A straggling fringe of jet-black hair overhung the stout
+baby's black, beadlike eyes.
+
+Near the doorway of the rickety shack a man, half French, half Indian,
+stood talking earnestly and with many gesticulations to a dark-skinned
+woman, framed by the doorway. The woman had large black eyes, shaded
+by very long black lashes. She wore her rather coarse black hair in
+two long, thick braids that hung in front of her straight shoulders.
+In spite of her dark color, her worn shoes, her ragged, untidy gown,
+she seemed to Mabel an exceedingly pretty woman. The man, too, was
+handsome, after a bold, picturesque fashion; but the woman was the more
+pleasing.
+
+Mabel approached timidly. She felt that she was intruding.
+
+"Good-morning," said she, ingratiatingly. "Is this your little boy?"
+
+"Him girl," returned the woman, with a sudden flash of white teeth
+between parted crimson lips. "Name Rosa Marie. Yes, him _ma petite_
+daughtaire. You like the looks on him, hey?"
+
+"Oh, so much," cried Mabel, impulsively. "Oh, _would_ you do me a
+favor?"
+
+"A favaire," repeated the woman, with a puzzled glance. "W'at ees a
+favaire?"
+
+"Oh, _would_ you lend your baby to me? Would you let me have her to
+play with for---- Oh, for all day?"
+
+"Here?" queried the mother, doubtfully.
+
+"No, not here. In my own home--up there, on the hill. _Could_ I keep
+her until six o'clock? I just adore babies, and she's so fat and
+cunning! Oh, please, _please_! I'd be just awfully obliged."
+
+A look of understanding flashed suddenly between the man and the woman;
+but Mabel, stooping to make friends with little Rosa Marie, did not
+observe it.
+
+"Your fodder 'ave nice house, plainty food, plainty money?" queried the
+woman, running a speculative eye over Mabel's plain but substantial
+wardrobe.
+
+"Oh yes," returned Mabel, thoughtlessly. "And besides I have a
+playhouse. That is, it isn't exactly mine, but I just about live in it
+with three other girls, and that's where I want to take Rosa Marie.
+I'll be awfully careful of her if you'll only let me take her. Oh,
+_do_ you think she'll come with me? Couldn't you _tell_ her to?"
+
+The woman, bending to look into Rosa Marie's black eyes, talked loudly
+and rapidly in some foreign tongue. The mother's voice was harsh,
+but her eyes, Mabel noticed, seemed soft and tender, and much more
+beautiful than Rosa Marie's.
+
+"Now," said the woman, turning to Mabel and speaking in broken English,
+"eef you want her, you must go at once. Go now, I tell you. Go queek,
+queek! Pull hard eef she ees drag behind. But go, I tell you, _go_!"
+
+The voice rose to an unpleasant, almost too stirring pitch that jarred
+suddenly on Mabel's nerves; but, obeying these hasty instructions, the
+little girl drew Rosa Marie out of the inclosure, led her across the
+street and lifted her to the sidewalk. Looking back from the slight
+elevation, Mabel noticed that the man was again talking earnestly and
+gesticulating excitedly; while the woman, once more framed by the
+doorway, followed, with her big black eyes, the chubby figure of Rosa
+Marie.
+
+"I'll bring her back all safe and sound," shouted Mabel, over her
+shoulder. "Don't be afraid. Good-by, until six o'clock!"
+
+Escorting Rosa Marie to Dandelion Cottage proved no light task.
+Her legs were very short, it soon became evident that she was not
+accustomed to using them for walking purposes, the way was mostly
+uphill and the little brown feet were bare. At first Mabel led, coaxed
+and encouraged with the utmost patience; but presently Rosa Marie sat
+heavily on the sidewalk and refused to rise. That is, she didn't _say_
+that she wouldn't rise. She remained sitting with such firmness of
+purpose that it seemed hopeless to attempt to break her of the habit.
+
+Mabel walked round and round her firmly seated charge in helpless
+despair. Rosa Marie and the sidewalk were one.
+
+"Want any help?" asked a friendly voice. It belonged to a large,
+freckled boy who was carrying two pails of water from the lake to one
+of the tumble-down houses.
+
+[Illustration: ROSA MARIE AND THE SIDEWALK WERE ONE.]
+
+"Yes, I do," responded Mabel, promptly. "If you could just lift this
+child high enough for me to get hold of her I think I could carry her."
+
+So the boy, setting his pails down, obligingly lifted Rosa Marie's
+solid little person, Mabel clasped the barrel-shaped body closely, and,
+after a word of thanks to the kind boy, proceeded homeward. But even
+now her troubles were not ended. By silently refusing to cuddle, Rosa
+Marie converted herself into a most uncomfortable burden. Her entire
+body was a silent protest against leaving her home.
+
+"Do make yourself soft and bunchy," pleaded Mabel, giving Rosa Marie
+sundry pokes, calculated to make her double up like a jack-knife.
+"Here, bend this way. _Haven't_ you any joints anywhere? Do hold tight
+with your arms and legs. _This_ way. Pshaw! You're just like a
+stuffed crocodile. Well, _walk_ then, if you can't hang on like a real
+child. There's one thing certain, you shan't sit down again. I s'pose
+we'll get there _sometime_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Mabel's Day
+
+
+ALMOST hopeless as it seemed at times, Mabel and the silent brown
+baby finally reached Dandelion Cottage. There they found Jean, seated
+in a chair with her lovely little cousin Anne Halliday perched like
+a pink and white blossom on the edge of the dining table before her,
+tying Anne's bewitching yellow curls with wide pink ribbons. Anne was
+a perpetual delight, for, besides being a picture during every moment
+of the long day, her ways were so quaint and so attractive that no one
+could help admiring her.
+
+Marjory, her countenance carefully arranged to depict the deepest
+sorrow, stood guard over the Marcotte twins, who, touchingly covered
+with nasturtiums, were laid out on the parlor cozy corner, awaiting
+burial. Their blue eyes blinked and their pink toes twitched; but, on
+the whole, they played their parts in a most satisfactory manner.
+
+Bettie, with two small but attractive Tucker babies clinging to her
+brief skirts, was exclaiming: "These are my jewels," when tired, dusty
+Mabel, pushing reluctant Rosa Marie before her, walked in.
+
+"For mercy's sake, what's that!" gasped Jean, sweeping Anne Halliday
+into her protecting arms.
+
+"Is--is it something the cat dragged in?" asked Marjory.
+
+"Is--_can_ it be a _real_ child?" demanded Bettie.
+
+"This," announced Mabel, with dignity, "is _my_ child. Her name is Rosa
+Marie--with all the distress on the _ee_."
+
+"The distress seems to be all over both of you," giggled Marjory.
+
+"That's just dust," explained Mabel.
+
+"Did you both roll home like a pair of barrels?" queried Jean, "or did
+the Village Improvement folks use you to dust the sidewalks?"
+
+"What's the matter with that child's complexion?" demanded Marjory. "Is
+she tanned?"
+
+"Coming home took long enough for us both to get tanned," returned
+Mabel, crossly, "but Rosa Marie's French, I guess."
+
+"French! French nothing!" exclaimed Marjory. "She's nothing but a
+little wild Indian. Look at her hair. Look at her small black eyes.
+Look at her high cheekbones. Where in the world did you get her?"
+
+Mabel explained. For once, the girls listened with the most flattering
+attention. Anne Halliday bobbed her pretty head to punctuate each
+sentence, the Tucker babies stood in silence with their mouths open,
+even the nicely laid-out Marcotte twins on the sofa sat up to hear the
+tale.
+
+"And she's all mine until six o'clock," concluded Mabel, triumphantly.
+
+"If she were mine," said Jean, "I'd give her a bath."
+
+"I'd give her two," giggled Marjory.
+
+So Mabel, assisted by Jean, Marjory, Bettie, little Anne, the two
+Tucker babies and the now very much alive Marcotte twins gave Rosa
+Marie a bath in the dish-pan. Although they changed the water as fast
+as they could heat more in the tea-kettle, although they used a whole
+bar of strong yellow soap, two teaspoonfuls of washing powder and a
+_very_ scratchy washcloth lathered with Sapolio, Rosa Marie, who bore
+it all with stolid patience, was still richly brown from head to heels,
+when she emerged from her bath.
+
+"Let's play Pocohontis!" cried Marjory, seizing the feather duster.
+"Put feathers in her hair and drape her in my brown petticoat. I'll be
+Captain John Smith in Bob Tucker's rubber boots."
+
+"You won't either," retorted Mabel, indignantly. "I guess, after I
+dragged this child all the way up here to play 'Mother' with, I'm not
+going to have her used for any old Pocohontises. She's my child, and
+I'm going to have the entire use of her while she lasts."
+
+"After all," replied Marjory, cuttingly, "I don't want her. I'm sure
+_I_ wouldn't care for any of _that_ colored children. The usual shade
+is quite good enough for me."
+
+But, while the novelty lasted and in spite of Marjory's declaration,
+Rosa Marie was a distinct success. Little Anne Halliday's cunningest
+ways and quaintest speeches went unheeded when Rosa Marie refused to
+wear shoes and stockings. She had never worn a shoe, and, without
+uttering a word, she made it plain that she had no intention of
+hampering her pudgy brown feet with the cast-off footgear of the young
+Tuckers.
+
+Neither would she wear clothes, until Jean showed her the solitary
+garment she had arrived in, now soaking in a pan of soapy water. After
+they had arrayed her in a long-sleeved apron of Anne's--it didn't go
+round, but had to be helped out with a cheese-cloth duster--it was
+evident that the unaccustomed whiteness bothered her. She was not used
+to being so remarkably stiff and clean.
+
+The Marcotte twins, again prepared for burial, quarrelled most
+engagingly as to which should be buried under the apple-tree, both
+preferring that fruitful resting-place to the barren waste under
+the snowball bush; but nobody listened because Rosa Marie was doing
+extraordinary things with her bowl of bread and milk. Having lapped the
+milk like a cat, she was deftly chasing the crumbs round the bowl with
+a greedy and experienced tongue. It was plain that Rosa Marie had no
+table manners.
+
+As for the infantile Tuckers, they were an old story. On this occasion
+they crawled into the corner cupboard and went to sleep and nobody
+missed them for a whole hour, just because Rosa Marie was emitting
+queer little startled grunts every time Marjory's best doll wailed
+"Mam-mah!" "Pap-pah!" for her benefit. There was no doubt about it,
+Rosa Marie was decidedly amusing.
+
+The day passed swiftly; much too swiftly, Mabel thought. Very much
+mothered Rosa Marie, who had obligingly consumed an amazing amount of
+milk--all, indeed, that the Cottagers had been able to procure--started
+homeward, towed by Mabel. That elated young person had declined all
+offers of company; she coveted the full glory of returning Rosa Marie
+to her rightful guardian. Mabel, indeed, was visibly swollen with
+pride. She had given the Cottagers a most unusual treat. She had not
+only surprised them by proving that she _could_ borrow a baby, but
+had kept them amused and entertained every moment of the day. It had
+certainly been a red-letter day in the annals of Dandelion Cottage.
+
+Mabel more than half expected to meet Rosa Marie's mother at the very
+first corner. The other real mothers had always seemed desirous--over
+desirous, Mabel thought--of welcoming their home-coming babies back
+to the fold; but the mother of Rosa Marie, apparently, was of a less
+grudging disposition.
+
+Mabel laboriously escorted her reluctant charge to the very door of the
+shanty without encountering any welcoming parent. The borrower of Rosa
+Marie knocked. No one came. She tried the door. It was locked.
+
+"How queer!" said Mabel. "Seems to me I'd be on hand if I had an
+engagement at exactly six o'clock. But then, I always _am_ late."
+
+Dragging an empty wooden box to the side of the house, Mabel climbed to
+the high, decidedly smudgy window and peered in.
+
+There was no one inside. There was no fire in the battered stove. The
+doors of a rough cupboard opposite the window stood open, disclosing
+the fact that the cupboard was bare. There were no bedclothes in the
+rough bunk that served for a bed; no dishes on the table; no clothing
+hanging from the hooks on the wall. Both inside and outside the house
+wore a strangely deserted aspect. It seemed to say: "Nobody lives here
+now, nobody ever did live here, nobody ever will live here."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+An Unusual Evening
+
+
+MABEL looked in dismay at Rosa Marie.
+
+"Where do you s'pose your mother is?" she demanded.
+
+It was useless, however, to question Rosa Marie. That stolid young
+person was as uncommunicative as what Marjory called "the little
+stuffed Indians in the Washington Museum." The Indians to whom Marjory
+referred were made of wax. Rosa Marie seemed more like a little wooden
+Indian. The countenance of little Anne Halliday changed with every
+moment; but Rosa Marie's wore only one expression. Perhaps it had only
+one to wear.
+
+"I say," said Mabel, gently shaking her small brown charge by the
+shoulders, "where does your mother usually go when she isn't home?"
+
+A surprised grunt was the only response.
+
+Rosa Marie, too suddenly released, sat heavily on the ground,
+thoughtfully scratched up the surface and filled her lap with handfuls
+of loose, unattractive earth.
+
+"Goodness! What an untidy child!" cried Mabel, snatching her up and
+shaking her, although Rosa Marie's weight made her youthful guardian
+stagger. "I wanted your mother to see you clean, for once. Here, sit
+on this stick of wood. I s'pose we'll just have to wait and wait until
+somebody comes. Well, _sit_ in the sand if you want to. I'm tired of
+picking you up."
+
+Rosa Marie's home was in rather an attractive spot. The big, quiet lake
+was smooth as glass, and every object along its picturesque bank was
+mirrored faithfully in the quiet depths. The western sky was faintly
+tinged with red. Against it the spires and tall roofs of the town stood
+out sharply; but at this quiet hour they seemed very far away.
+
+Mabel, seated on the wooden box that she had placed under the window,
+leaned back against the house and clasped her hands about her knees,
+while she gazed dreamily at the picture and listened with enjoyment to
+the faint lap of the quiet water on the pebbled beach.
+
+Both Mabel and Rosa Marie had had a busy day. Both had taken unusual
+exercise. And now all the sights and sounds were soothing, soothing.
+
+You can guess what happened. Both little girls fell asleep. Rosa Marie,
+flat on her stomach, pillowed her head on her chubby arms. Mabel's
+head, drooping slowly forward, grew heavier and heavier until finally
+it touched her knees.
+
+An hour later, the sleepy head had grown so very heavy that it pulled
+Mabel right off the box and tumbled her over in a confused, astonished
+heap on the ground.
+
+"My goodness!" gasped Mabel, still on hands and knees. "Where am I,
+anyway? Is this Saturday or Sunday? Why! It's all dark. This--this
+isn't my room--why! why! I'm outdoors! How did I get outdoors?"
+
+Mabel stood up, took a step forward, stumbled over Rosa Marie and went
+down on all-fours.
+
+"What's that!" gasped bewildered Mabel, groping with her hands. She
+felt the rough black head, the plump body, the round legs, the bare
+feet of her sleeping charge. Memory returned.
+
+"Why! It's Rosa Marie, and we're waiting here by the lake for her
+mother. It--ugh! It must be midnight!"
+
+But it wasn't. It was just exactly twenty minutes after seven o'clock
+but, with the autumn sun gone early to bed, it certainly seemed very
+much later. The house was still deserted.
+
+"I guess," said Mabel, feeling about in the dark for Rosa Marie's
+fat hand, "we'd better go home--or some place. Come, Rosa Marie, wake
+up. I'm going to take you home with me. Oh, _please_ wake up. There's
+nobody here but us. It's way in the middle of the night and there might
+be _any_thing in those awfully black bushes."
+
+But Rosa Marie, deprived of her noontide nap, slumbered on. Mabel shook
+her.
+
+"Do hurry," pleaded frightened Mabel. "I don't like it here."
+
+It was anything but an easy task for Mabel to drag the sleeping
+child to her feet, but she did it. Rosa Marie, however, immediately
+dropped to earth again. During the day she had seemed stiff; but now,
+unfortunately, she proved most distressingly limber. She seemed, in
+fact, to possess more than the usual number of joints, and discouraged
+Mabel began to fear that each joint was reversible.
+
+"Goodness!" breathed Mabel, when Rosa Marie's knees failed for the
+seventh time, "it seems wicked to shake you _very_ hard, but I've got
+to."
+
+Even with vigorous and prolonged shakings it took time to get Rosa
+Marie firmly established on her feet, and the children had walked more
+than a block of the homeward way before Rosa Marie opened one blinking
+eye under the street lamp.
+
+If it had been difficult to make the uphill journey in broad daylight
+with Rosa Marie wide awake and moderately willing, it was now a doubly
+difficult matter with that young person half or three-quarters asleep
+and most decidedly unwilling.
+
+"I wish to goodness," grumbled Mabel, stumbling along in the dark,
+"that I'd borrowed a real baby and not a heathen."
+
+The longest journey has an end. The children reached Dandelion
+Cottage at last. Mabel found the key, unlocked the door, tumbled Rosa
+Marie, clothes and all, into the middle of the spare-room bed; waited
+just long enough to make certain that the Indian baby slept; then,
+reassured by gentle, half-breed snores, Mabel, still supposing the
+time to be midnight, ran home, climbed into her own bed nearly an hour
+earlier than usual and was soon sound asleep. Her mind was too full of
+other matters to wonder why the front door was unlocked at so late an
+hour.
+
+Mrs. Bennett, dressing to go to a party, heard her daughter come in.
+
+"How fortunate!" said she. "Now I shan't have to go to Jean's
+and Marjory's and Bettie's to hunt for Mabel. She must be tired
+to-night--she doesn't often go to bed so early."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Returning Rosa Marie
+
+
+EARLY the next morning, Jean, needing her thimble to sew on a vitally
+necessary button, ran to the supposedly empty cottage to get it. Taking
+the short cut through the Tuckers' back yard she found Bettie feeding
+Billy, the seagull, one of Bob's numerous pets.
+
+"Billy always wakes everybody up crying for his breakfast," explained
+thoughtful little Bettie. "Bob's spending a week at the Ormsbees' camp,
+so I have to get up to feed Billy so father can sleep."
+
+"Why don't the other boys do it?"
+
+"Mercy! _They'd_ sleep through anything. Going to the Cottage?"
+
+"Yes, come with me," returned Jean, "while I get my thimble. It's so
+big that it almost takes two to carry it."
+
+"All right," laughed Bettie, crawling through the hole in the fence.
+
+Jean's thimble was a standing joke. A stout and prudent godmother had
+bestowed a very large one on the little girl so that Jean would be
+in no danger of outgrowing the gift. Jean was now living in hopes of
+sometime growing big enough to fit the thimble.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, after a brief search, "the key isn't under the
+doormat! Where do you s'pose it's gone?"
+
+"Here it is in the door. But how in the world did it get there? I
+locked that door myself last night and tucked the key under the mat. I
+_know_ I did."
+
+"I saw you do it," corroborated Jean.
+
+"Perhaps Marjory's inside."
+
+"It isn't Mabel, anyway. She's always the last one up."
+
+"Mercy me!" cried Bettie, who had been peeking into the different rooms
+to see if Marjory were inside. "Come here, Jean. Just look at this!"
+
+"This" was brown little Rosa Marie sitting up in the middle of the
+pink and white spare-room bed, like, as Bettie put it, a brown bee
+in the heart of a rose. Her small dark countenance was absolutely
+expressionless, so there was no way of discovering what _she_ thought
+about it all.
+
+"My sakes!" exclaimed Jean, with indignation, "that lazy Mabel never
+took her home, after all! Why! We'll have a whole band of wild Indians
+coming to scalp us right after breakfast! How _could_ she have been so
+careless. This is the worst she's done yet."
+
+"But it's just like Mabel," said Bettie, giving vent, for once, to her
+disapproval of Mabel's thoughtlessness. "She likes things ever so much
+at first. Then she simply forgets that they ever existed."
+
+"Who forgets?" demanded Mabel, bouncing in at the front door.
+
+"You," returned Jean and Bettie, with one accusing voice.
+
+"Prove it."
+
+"You forgot to take Rosa Marie home last night."
+
+"I never did. I took her every inch of the way home, stayed with her
+all alone in the dark for pretty nearly a _year_, and then had to bring
+her all the way back again, walking in her sleep. So there, now!"
+
+"But why in the world didn't you leave her with her own folks?"
+
+"Her horrid mother wasn't there. And between 'em, I didn't get any
+supper and only a little sleep."
+
+"But what are you going to do?" queried astonished Jean.
+
+"After she drinks this quart of milk," explained Mabel, "I'm going to
+take her home again."
+
+"Where did you get so much milk?" asked Bettie, suspiciously.
+
+Mabel colored furiously. "I begged it from the milkman," she confessed.
+"That's why I'm up so early. I've been sitting on our kitchen doorstep
+for two hours, waiting for him to come."
+
+Mabel spent all that day industriously returning Rosa Marie to a home
+that had locked its doors against her. No pretty, dark, French mother
+stood in the doorway. No tall, dark man wandered about the yard. No
+neighbor came from the tumbling houses across the street to explain the
+woman's puzzling absence.
+
+It proved a most tiresome day. Mabel was not only mentally weary from
+trying to solve the mystery, but physically tired also from dragging
+Rosa Marie up and down the hill between Dandelion Cottage and the
+child's deserted home. The girls went with her once, but, having
+satisfied their curiosity as to Rosa Marie's abiding-place, turned
+their attention to pleasanter tasks. Walking with Rosa Marie was too
+much like traveling with a snail. One such journey was enough.
+
+Moreover, Mabel's pride had suffered. A grinning boy, looking from
+plump Mabel's ruddy countenance to fat Rosa Marie's expressionless
+brown one, had asked wickedly:
+
+"Is that your sister? You look enough alike to be twins."
+
+After that, Mabel feared that other persons might mistake the small
+brown person for a relative of hers, or, worse yet, mistake her for an
+Indian.
+
+"Goodness me!" groaned Mabel, toiling homeward from her second trip,
+"it was hard enough to borrow a baby, but it's enough sight worse
+getting rid of one afterwards. There's one thing certain; I'll _never_
+borrow another."
+
+Late in the day Mabel thought of Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman. Perhaps
+she would know what had become of Rosa Marie's vanished mother.
+Dropping Rosa Marie inside the gate, Mabel knocked at Mrs. Malony's
+door.
+
+"The folks that lived in the shanty beyant?" asked Mrs. Malony. "Sure,
+darlint, nobody's lived there for years and years save gipsies and
+tramps and such like."
+
+"But day before yesterday--no, yesterday morning--I saw a young
+Frenchwoman----"
+
+"A black-eyed gal wid two long braids and wan small Injin? Sure, Oi
+know the wan you mane. Her man, Injin Pete, died a month ago, some two
+days after they come to the shack."
+
+"But where is she now?" asked Mabel.
+
+"Lord love ye," returned Mrs. Malony, "how wud Oi be after knowin'? She
+came and she wint, like the rest av thim."
+
+"There was a man--not a gentleman and not exactly a tramp--talking
+to her yesterday. Perhaps you know where _he_ is. I couldn't find
+_anybody_."
+
+"Depind upon it," said Mrs. Malony, easily, "she's gone wid him. She's
+Mrs. Somebody Else by now, and good riddance to the pair av thim."
+
+"But," objected Mabel, drawing the branches of a small shrub aside and
+disclosing Rosa Marie sprawling on the ground behind it, "she left her
+baby."
+
+"The Nation, she did!" gasped Mrs. Malony, for once surprised out of
+her serenity. "Wud ye think of thot, now!"
+
+"I've _been_ thinking of it," returned Mabel, miserably. "And I don't
+know what in the world to do. You see, she left the baby with _me_."
+
+"Take her home wid ye," advised Mrs. Malony, hastily; so hastily that
+it looked as if the Irishwoman feared that _she_ might be asked to
+mother Rosa Marie. "I'll kape an eye on the shack for ye. If that
+good-for-nothin' black-haired wan comes back, Oi'll be up wid the news
+in two shakes of a dead lamb's tail, so Oi will. In the mane toime, be
+a mother to thot innocent babe yourself. She needs wan if iver a choild
+did."
+
+"I've been that for two whole days now," groaned Mabel.
+
+"Thot's right, thot's right," encouraged Mrs. Malony. "Ye were just
+cut out for thot same. Good luck go wid ye."
+
+Rosa Marie spent a second night in the spare room of Dandelion Cottage.
+She, at least, seemed utterly indifferent as to her fate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The Dark Secret
+
+
+THE four Cottagers sat in solemn conclave round the dining-room table
+next morning. Rosa Marie, flat on her stomach on the floor, lapped milk
+like a cat and licked the bowl afterwards; but now no one paid the
+slightest attention.
+
+"I think," said Jean, removing her elbows from the table, "that we'd
+better tell our mothers and Aunty Jane all about it at once. They'll
+know what to do."
+
+"So do I," said Marjory.
+
+"So do I," echoed Bettie.
+
+"_I_ don't," protested Mabel, whose hitherto serene countenance now
+showed signs of great anxiety. "If you ever tell _anybody_, I'll--I'll
+never speak to you again. This joke--if it _is_ a joke--is on _me_. I
+got into this scrape and it's _my_ scrape."
+
+"But," objected Jean, "we always do tell our mothers everything. That's
+why they trust us to play all by ourselves in Dandelion Cottage."
+
+"Give me just a few days," pleaded Mabel. "Perhaps that woman got kept
+away by some accident. I'm sure Rosa Marie's mother has mother feelings
+inside of her, _some_ place--I saw 'em in her face when I was leading
+Rosa Marie away. I _know_ she'll come back. Until she does, I'll take
+care of that poor deserted child myself."
+
+"It's a blessing she never cries, anyway," observed Bettie. "If she
+were a howling child I don't know _what_ we'd do. As it is, she's not
+_much_ more trouble than a Teddy bear."
+
+If Mrs. Mapes hadn't had a missionary box in her cellar to pack for
+Reservation Indians of assorted sizes and shapes with the cast-off
+garments of all Lakeville; if Mrs. Bennett had not been exceedingly
+busy with a seamstress getting ready to go out of town for an
+important visit; if Aunty Jane had not been even busier trying to make
+green tomato pickles out of ripe tomatoes; if Mrs. Tucker had not been
+too anxious about the throats of the youngest three Tuckers to give
+heed to the doings of the larger members of her family, these four good
+women would surely have discovered that something unusual was taking
+place under the Cottage roof. As it was, not one of the mothers, not
+even sharp Aunty Jane, discovered that the Cottagers were borrowing an
+amazing amount of milk from their respective refrigerators.
+
+The novelty worn off, Rosa Marie became a heavy burden to at least
+three of the Cottagers' tender consciences. Mabel's conscience may have
+troubled her, but not enough to be noticed by a pair of moderately
+careless parents. Mabel, however, grew more and more attached to Rosa
+Marie; the others did not. To tell the truth, the borrowed infant was
+not an attractive child. Many small Indians are decidedly pretty, but
+Rosa Marie was not. Her small eyes were too close together, her upper
+lip was much too long for the rest of her countenance and her large
+mouth turned sharply down at the corners. But loyal Mabel was blind
+to these defects. She saw only the babyish roundness of Rosa Marie's
+body, the cunning dimples in her elbows and the affectionate gleam that
+sometimes showed in the small black eyes. But then, it was always Mabel
+who found beauty in the stray dogs and cats that no one else would
+have on the premises. During these trying days the Cottagers _almost_
+quarreled.
+
+"That child is all cheeks," complained Marjory, petulantly. "They
+positively hang down. Do you suppose we're giving her too much milk?
+She's disgustingly fat, and she hasn't any figure."
+
+"She has altogether too much figure," declared Jean, almost crossly. "I
+fastened this little petticoat around what I _thought_ was her waist
+and it slid right off. So now I've got to make buttonholes. Such a
+nuisance!"
+
+"Pity you can't use tacks and a hammer," giggled Marjory.
+
+The clothing of Rosa Marie had presented another distressing problem.
+She owned absolutely nothing in the way of a wardrobe. The single,
+unattractive garment she had worn on her arrival had not survived the
+girls' attempts to wash it. They had left it boiling on the stove, the
+water had cooked off and the faded gingham had cooked also.
+
+To make up for this accident, all four of the Cottagers had contributed
+all they could find of their own cast-off garments; but these of course
+were much too large without considerable making over.
+
+"If," said Jean, reproachfully, as she took a large tuck in the
+grown-up stocking that she was trying to re-model for Rosa Marie,
+"you'd only let me tell my mother, she'd give us every blessed thing
+we need. One live little Indian in the hand ought to be worth more to
+her than a whole dozen invisible ones on a way-off Reservation; and you
+know she's always doing things for _them_."
+
+"Jeanie Mapes!" threatened Mabel, "if you tell her, that's the very
+last breath I'll ever speak to you."
+
+"I'll be good," sighed Jean, "but I just hate _not_ telling her. And
+this horrid stocking is _still_ too long."
+
+"Button it about her neck," giggled Marjory, who flatly declined to do
+any sewing for Rosa Marie. "That'll take up the slack and save making
+her a shirt."
+
+"Don't bother about stockings," said Bettie, fishing a round lump from
+her blouse. "Here's a pair of old ones that I found in the rag bag.
+One's black and the other's tan; but they're exactly the right size and
+that's _something_."
+
+"What's the use," demurred Marjory. "She won't wear them."
+
+"If Rosa Marie were about eight shades slimmer," said Jean, "I could
+easily get some of Anne Halliday's dear little dresses--her mother gave
+my mother a lot day before yesterday for that Reservation box; but
+goodness! You'd have to sew two of them together sideways to get them
+around _that_ child."
+
+"She _is_ awfully thick," admitted Mabel.
+
+Yet, after all, dressing Rosa Marie was not exactly a hardship. Indeed,
+it is probable that the difficulties that stood in the way made the
+task only so much the more interesting; then, of course, dressing a
+real child was much more exciting than making garments for a mere doll.
+
+Whenever the Cottagers spoke of Rosa Marie outside the Cottage they
+referred to her as the D. S. D. S. stood for "Dark Secret." This seemed
+singularly appropriate, for Rosa Marie was certainly dark and quite as
+certainly a most tremendous secret--a far larger and darker secret than
+the troubled girls cared to keep, but there seemed to be no immediate
+way out of it.
+
+Fortunately, the stolid little "D. S." was amiable to an astonishing
+degree. She never cried. Also, she "stayed put." If Mabel stood her in
+the corner she stayed there. If she were tucked into bed, there she
+remained until some one dragged her out. She spent her days rolling
+contentedly about the Cottage floor, her nights in deep, calm slumber.
+Never was there a youngster with fewer wants. Teaching Rosa Marie to
+talk furnished the Cottagers with great amusement. The round brown
+damsel very evidently preferred grunts to words; but she was always
+willing to grunt obligingly when Mabel or the others insisted.
+
+"Say, 'This little pig went to market,'" Mabel would prompt.
+
+"Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, _ee_, hee!" Rosa Marie would grunt.
+
+Then, when everybody else laughed her very hardest, Rosa Marie's grim
+little mouth would relax to show for an instant the row of white teeth
+that Mabel scrubbed industriously many times a day. This rare smile
+made the borrowed baby almost attractive. But not to Marjory. From the
+first, Marjory regarded her with strong disapproval.
+
+Fortunately for Mabel's secret, little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte
+twins and the two Tucker babies were too small to tell tales out of
+school, so in spite of sundry narrow escapes, Rosa Marie remained as
+dark a secret as one's heart could desire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+Discovery
+
+
+SCHOOL began the first day of October--fortunately, repairs to the
+building had delayed the opening. And there was Rosa Marie still on the
+Cottagers' hands, still a dark and undivulged secret. In the meantime,
+Mabel had paid many a visit to Mrs. Malony, who for reasons of her own
+had kept silence about the borrowed baby. Probably she felt that Mrs.
+Bennett would blame her for advising Mabel to harbor the deserted child.
+
+"No, darlint," Mrs. Malony would say, encouragingly. "Oi ain't exactly
+_seen_ her, but she'll be back prisintly, she'll be back prisintly--Oh,
+most anny toime, now. Just do be waitin' patient and you'll see me
+come walkin' in most anny foine day wid yon blackhaired lass at me
+heels an' full to the eyes of her wid gratichude. Anny day at all, Miss
+Mabel."
+
+Buoyed by this hope, Mabel had waited from day to day, hoping for
+speedy deliverance. And now, school!
+
+"We'll just have to get excused for part of each day," said Marjory,
+always good at suggesting remedies. "Last year, all my recitations came
+in the morning; perhaps they will again. Then, if one of you others
+could do all your reciting during the afternoon we could manage it."
+
+The year previously Mabel had been obliged to spend many a half-hour
+after school, making up neglected lessons. Now, however, she studied
+furiously. If she failed frequently it was only because she couldn't
+help making absurd blunders; it was never for lack of study. In this
+one way, at least, Rosa Marie proved beneficial.
+
+The united efforts of all four made it possible for Rosa Marie to
+possess a more or less unwilling guardian for all but one hour during
+the forenoon. It grieves one to confess it, but Rosa Marie spent that
+solitary hour securely strapped to the leg of the dining-room table;
+but, stolid as ever, she did not mind that.
+
+It was there that Aunty Jane discovered her, the second week in
+October. Aunty Jane had missed her best saucepan. Rightly suspecting
+that Marjory had carried it off to make fudge in, she hurried to the
+Cottage, discovered the key under the door-mat, opened the door and
+walked in.
+
+Rosa Marie was grunting. "Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, _ee_, hee!" to her
+own bare brown toes.
+
+"For mercy's sake! What's that?" gasped Aunty Jane, with a terrified
+start. "There's some sort of an animal in this house."
+
+Arming herself with the broken umbrella that stood in the mended
+umbrella jar in the front hall, Aunty Jane peered cautiously into
+the dining-room. The "animal" turned its head to blink with mild,
+expressionless curiosity at Aunty Jane.
+
+"My soul!" ejaculated that good lady, "what are you, anyway?"
+
+The pair blinked at each other for several moments.
+
+"Are--are you a _baby_?" demanded Aunty Jane.
+
+No response from Rosa Marie.
+
+"What," asked Aunty Jane, cautiously drawing closer, "is your name?"
+
+Still no response.
+
+"Who tied you to that table?"
+
+Silence on Rosa Marie's part.
+
+"I'm going straight after Mrs. Mapes," declared Aunty Jane, retreating
+backwards in order to keep a watchful eye on the queer object under the
+table. "I might have known that those enterprising youngsters would be
+up to _something_, if I gave my whole mind to pickles."
+
+Excited Aunty Jane collected not only Mrs. Mapes, but Mrs. Tucker and
+Mrs. Bennett, before she returned to the Cottage. And then, the three
+mothers and Aunty Jane sat on the floor beside Rosa Marie and asked
+questions; useless questions, because Rosa Marie licked the table-leg
+bashfully but yielded no other reply.
+
+This lasted for nearly half an hour. And then, school being out and the
+four Cottagers discovering their front door wide open, Jean, Bettie,
+Marjory and Mabel, all sorts of emotions tugging at their hearts,
+rushed breathlessly in. On beholding their mothers and Aunty Jane,
+they, too, turned suddenly bashful and leaned, speechless, against the
+Cottage wall.
+
+"Whose child is that?" demanded all four of the grown-ups, in concert.
+
+"Mine," replied Mabel.
+
+"Mabel's," responded the other three, with disheartening promptness.
+
+"What!" gasped the parents and Aunty Jane.
+
+"I borrowed her," explained Mabel, "so she's _mostly_ mine."
+
+"She's spending the day here, I suppose," said Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"Ye-es," faltered Mabel. Marjory giggled, and Mabel turned crimson.
+
+"I hope," said Mrs. Bennett, severely, "that you're not thinking of
+keeping her all night."
+
+"I--I--we--" faltered Mabel, "we--we sort of did."
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennett, not knowing how very late she was, "I
+guess we've come just in time. Mabel, put that child's things on and
+take her home at once."
+
+"I can't," replied Mabel.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"She hasn't any home."
+
+"No home!"
+
+"No. It's--it's run away."
+
+"What! That baby?"
+
+"No," stammered Mabel, "that baby's home. Not--not the house. Just her
+mother. She--she--Oh, she'll be back, _some_ day."
+
+"Mabel Bennett!" demanded Mrs. Bennett, suspecting something of the
+truth, "how long have you had that child here?"
+
+"Not--Oh, not so _very_ long," evaded Mabel.
+
+"Mabel," demanded her mother, "tell me, instantly, exactly how long?"
+
+"About--yes, just about five weeks."
+
+"Five weeks!" gasped Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Five _weeks_!" shrieked Mrs. Tucker.
+
+"Five weeks!" groaned Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"Fi--ve weeks!" cried Aunty Jane.
+
+"It'll be five to-morrow," said Bettie.
+
+"No, the day after," corrected Marjory.
+
+For the next few moments the mothers and Aunty Jane were too astounded
+for further speech. The girls, too, had nothing to say. All four of the
+Cottagers kept their eyes on the floor, for they knew precisely what
+their elders were thinking.
+
+"Jean," began Mrs. Mapes, reproachfully.
+
+"I--I _wanted_ to tell," stammered Jean.
+
+"I wouldn't let her," defended Mabel, looking up. "They _all_ wanted to
+tell, but I wouldn't let them. Truly, they did, Mrs. Mapes."
+
+"But five whole weeks!" murmured Mrs. Bennett. "I wonder that you were
+able to keep the secret so long. Why! I've been over here half a dozen
+times at least to ask for my scissors and other things that Mabel has
+carried off."
+
+"So have I," said Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"So have I," echoed Mrs. Tucker.
+
+"And so have I," added Aunty Jane, "and I've never heard a sound from
+that remarkable child."
+
+"You see," confessed Bettie, flushing guiltily, "we kept the door
+locked. Whenever we saw anybody coming we whisked Rosa Marie into the
+spare-room closet."
+
+"If Rosa Marie had been an ordinary child," explained Jean, "she would
+probably have howled; but you see, every blessed thing about us was so
+new and strange to her that she just thought that everything we did was
+all right. And anyhow, she doesn't have the same sort of feelings that
+Anne Halliday does. Anne would have cried."
+
+"You naughty, naughty children," scolded Mrs. Mapes, "to keep a secret
+like that for five whole weeks."
+
+"But, Mother," protested Jean, gently, "we never supposed it was going
+to be a five-weeks-long secret. We didn't _want_ it to be. We've been
+expecting her horrid mother to turn up every single minute since Rosa
+Marie came."
+
+"It was all my fault," declared loyal Mabel. "_They'd_ have told, the
+very first minute, if it hadn't been for me. Blame me for everything."
+
+"What," asked Mrs. Bennett, "do you intend to do with that--that
+atrocious child?"
+
+"She _isn't_ atrocious!" blazed Mabel, with sudden fire. "She's a
+perfect darling, when you get used to her, and I _love_ her. She isn't
+so very pretty, I know, but she's just dear. She's good, and that--and
+that's--Why! You've said, yourself, that it was better to be good than
+beautiful."
+
+"But what do you intend to do with her?" persisted Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Keep her," said Mabel, firmly. "She doesn't eat anything much but milk
+and sample packages."
+
+"You can't. I won't have her in my house. Why! Her parents are probably
+dreadful people."
+
+"That's why she ought to have me for a mother and you for a
+grandmother," pleaded Mabel, earnestly. "But if you don't like her,
+I'll keep her here."
+
+"But you can't, Mabel. It's so cold that there ought to be a fire here
+this minute, and you can't possibly leave a child alone with a fire."
+
+"Couldn't _you_ take her, Mrs. Mapes?" pleaded Mabel.
+
+"No, I'm afraid I couldn't. If she were the least bit lovable----"
+
+"Oh, she _is_----"
+
+"Not to me," returned Mrs. Mapes, firmly.
+
+"Wouldn't _you_ take her, Mrs. Tucker?"
+
+"What! With all the family I have now? I couldn't think of such a
+thing."
+
+"Then you," begged Mabel, turning to Aunty Jane. "There's only you and
+Marjory in that great big house. Oh, _do_ take her."
+
+"Mercy! I'd just as soon undertake to board a live bear! Why! Nobody
+wants a child of _that_ sort around. She's as homely----"
+
+"I'm extremely glad," said Mabel, with much dignity and a great deal of
+emphasis, "that _my_ child doesn't understand grown-up English."
+
+"Perhaps," said Mrs. Mapes, smiling with sympathetic understanding,
+"we four older people had better talk this matter over by ourselves.
+Suppose you walk home with me.
+
+"_I_ think," said Aunty Jane, forgetting all about the saucepan that
+had led her to the Cottage, "that the orphan asylum is the place for
+that unspeakable child."
+
+"Yes," agreed Mrs. Bennett, "she'll certainly have to go to the
+asylum."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+The Fugitive Soldier
+
+
+THE Cottage door closed behind the three excited parents and Aunty
+Jane. The four Cottagers, all decidedly pale and subdued, looked at one
+another in silence. It is one thing to confess a fault; it is quite
+another to be ignominiously found out. Jean and Bettie and Marjory
+were feeling this very keenly; but Mabel was far more troubled at the
+prospect of losing Rosa Marie.
+
+"The orphan asylum!" breathed Bettie, at length.
+
+"It's wicked," blazed Mabel, "to make an orphan of a person that isn't."
+
+"I've heard," said Marjory, reflectively, "that orphans have to eat
+fried liver."
+
+"Horrors!" gasped Mabel.
+
+"And codfish."
+
+"Oh _horrors_!" moaned Mabel, who detested both liver and codfish.
+
+"And prunes," pursued teasing Marjory, wickedly remembering Mabel's
+dislike for that wholesome but insipid fruit. The prunes proved
+entirely too much for Mabel.
+
+"Pup--pup--prunes!" she sobbed. "And you stand there and don't do a
+thing to save her! I guess if I were Eliza escaping with my baby on
+cakes of ice----"
+
+"Rosa Marie's about the right color," giggled Marjory, who could not
+resist so fine an opportunity to tease excitable Mabel.
+
+"You'd all be glad enough to help, but when it's just me----"
+
+"Oh, we'll help," soothed Jean, slipping an arm about Mabel. "You know
+we always do stand by you."
+
+"Yes, we'll all help," promised Bettie, "if you'll just tell us what to
+do. Only _please_ don't get us into any more trouble with our mothers."
+
+"There's the cellar," suggested Mabel, doubtfully, yet with
+glimmerings of hope. "I read a story once about a lady who sat on a
+cellar door, knitting stockings."
+
+"Why in the world," demanded Marjory, "did she sit on the door?"
+
+"Some soldiers were hunting for an escaped prisoner and she had him
+hidden there."
+
+"Was the cellar all horrid with old papers and rats and mice and
+spiders and crawly things with legs?" asked Bettie, with interest.
+
+"I hope not," shuddered Mabel, "but a soldier wouldn't mind. Dear me, I
+wish we'd cleaned that cellar when we first came into the Cottage. If
+we had, it'd be just the place to hide Rosa Marie in."
+
+"Perhaps it isn't too late, now," said Marjory, stooping to loosen the
+ring in the kitchen floor. "Let's look down there, anyway."
+
+"Let's," agreed Bettie. "It'll be something to do, at least."
+
+Everybody helped with the door. When it was open and propped against
+the kitchen stove, the four girls crouched down to peer into the depths
+below. Even Rosa Marie, who had been released from the table-leg, crept
+to the edge to look.
+
+They were not very deep depths. The place was filled with rubbish,
+mostly old papers and broken pasteboard boxes; but it was perfectly
+dry, and clean except for a thick layer of dust.
+
+"Let's clean it out," said Mabel, recklessly grasping an armful of
+dusty papers and dragging them forth.
+
+"Phew!" exclaimed Jean, tumbling back from the hole. "Er--er--er hash!"
+
+"Oh, ki--_hash_! Hoo!" blubbered Bettie, likewise tumbling backwards.
+
+"Who-is-she, who-is-she," sneezed Marjory.
+
+"Kerchoo, kerchoo, kerchoo!" sneezed Rosa Marie, her head bobbing with
+each sneeze. "Kerchoo, kerchoo!"
+
+"It's pepper," explained Mabel, when she had finished _her_ sneeze. "I
+spilled a lot of it the day of Mr. Black's dinner party. I didn't know
+what else to do with it, so I swept it down that biggest crack."
+
+"Goodness! What a housekeeper!" rebuked Jean, wiping her eyes.
+
+"It's good for moths," consoled Bettie. "At any rate, Rosa Marie won't
+get moth-eaten."
+
+"Perhaps," suggested Mabel, hopefully, "it's driven away all the rats
+and crawly things."
+
+Working more cautiously, the girls drew forth the yellowed papers and
+pasteboard left by some former untidy occupant of the Cottage. They
+burned most of the rubbish in the kitchen stove, Jean standing guard
+lest burning pieces should escape to set fire to the Cottage. The work
+of clearing the cellar, indeed, was precisely what the girls needed,
+after the humiliating events of the day. All four were growing more
+cheerful; but they worked as swiftly as they dared, for they felt
+certain that the cellar, as a place of concealment for Rosa Marie,
+would be speedily needed.
+
+The cellar proved to be a square hole about three feet deep. When
+Mabel, who for once was doing the lion's share of the work, had swept
+the boarded floor and sides perfectly clean, it was really a very tidy,
+inviting little shelter; as neat a shelter as fugitive soldier could
+desire.
+
+"Now," said Mabel, "we'll put a piece of carpet and an old quilt in the
+bottom, tack clean papers around the sides----"
+
+"Papers rattle," offered Marjory, sagely.
+
+"Then we'll use cloth," declared Mabel, snatching an apron from the
+hook behind the door. "We'll begin right away to practise with Rosa
+Marie, so she'll get used to it. Then we must rehearse our parts, too."
+
+The retreat ready, Rosa Marie went without a murmur into the
+underground babytender--Marjory gave it that name. Rosa Marie, at
+least, would do her part successfully. But it was different above
+ground.
+
+"Who," demanded Jean, "is to sit on the door and knit? _I_
+couldn't--I'd fly to pieces."
+
+"It's my child," said Mabel, "_I'm_ going to."
+
+"But," objected Marjory, "you _can't_ knit. You don't know how."
+
+"I can crochet," triumphed Mabel, "and I guess that's every bit as
+good."
+
+"Where," asked Bettie, "is your crochet hook?"
+
+But that, of course, was a question that Mabel could not answer,
+because Mabel never did know where any of her belongings were.
+Thereupon, Jean, Marjory and Mabel began a frantic search for the
+missing article. Mabel had used it the week previously; but could
+remember nothing more about it.
+
+"Goodness!" groaned Mabel, groveling under the spare-room bed in hopes
+that the hook might be there. "If I'd dreamed that my child's life was
+going to depend on that hook, I'd have kept it locked up in father's
+fire-proof safe."
+
+"That's what you get," said Marjory, with one eye glued to the top of a
+very tall vase, "for being so careless. It isn't in here, anyway."
+
+"Here's one," announced Bettie, scrambling in hastily and locking the
+door behind her. "I skipped home for it. But there's no time to lose.
+All our mothers and Aunty Jane are going out of Mrs. Mapes's gate with
+their best hats and gloves on. There's something doing!"
+
+In another moment, the cellar door was closed, a rocking chair was
+placed upon it, and Mabel, with ball of yarn and crochet hook in hand,
+was nervously twitching in the chair. Her fingers were stiff with
+dust--there had been no time to wash them--so the loop that she tied
+in the end of the white yarn was most decidedly black; but Mabel was
+thankful to achieve a loop of any color, with her whole body quivering
+with excitement and suspense.
+
+"Goodness!" she quavered. "That soldier lady was a wonder! Think of
+her looking calm outside with her heart going like a Dover egg-beater.
+Do--do _I_ look calm?"
+
+"Here," said Bettie, extending a basin of warm water. "Soak your hands
+in this. Warm water is said to be soothing."
+
+"Also cleansing," giggled Marjory.
+
+"Hurry!" gasped quick-eared Jean, snatching the basin and hurling a
+towel in Mabel's direction. "I heard our gate click. There's somebody
+coming."
+
+"Don't let 'em in," breathed Mabel, defiantly.
+
+"I'm afraid," said Jean, "we'll have to."
+
+"Anyway," soothed Bettie, "we'll peek first--there's the door-bell!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A Surprise
+
+
+JEAN and Bettie flew to one window, Marjory to the other. Mabel wanted
+to fly, too, but she remained faithfully at her post, feeling quite
+cheered by her own heroism.
+
+"It's dark gray trousers with a crease in 'em; not skirts," announced
+Marjory, peering under the edge of the shade.
+
+"Probably a man from the asylum," shuddered Bettie. "Let's keep very
+still. He may think that this is the wrong house and go somewhere else."
+
+"But," objected Jean, "he'll only come back again."
+
+"Yes," sighed Bettie. "I s'pose we will have to open the door. You do
+it, Marjory."
+
+"I don't want to," returned Marjory, unexpectedly shrinking. "It seems
+too much like giving Rosa Marie into the hands of the enemy. After
+all, we're going to miss her dreadfully and Mabel'll be just about
+broken-hearted. She _does_ get so attached to things--Oh! He's ringing
+again."
+
+"We'll have to unlock the door," sighed Jean, placing her hand on the
+key, "but dearie me, I feel just as Marjory does about it. Knit fast,
+Mabel."
+
+The key turned in the lock, but the girls did not need to open the
+door; the visitor did that. Then there were rapturous cries of "Mr.
+Black! Mr. Black!"
+
+Mabel wanted to greet Mr. Black, too, for there was nobody in the world
+that was kinder to little girls than the stout gentleman who had just
+opened their door; but she remembered that the soldier lady (in spite
+of the Dover egg-beater heart) had remained seated, placidly knitting;
+so Mabel likewise sat still and plied her crochet hook.
+
+"Hi, hi!" exclaimed Mr. Black. "What are you all locked in for? And
+here I had to ring four times when I came with a present--apples right
+off the top of my own barrel. Began to be afraid I'd have to eat them
+all myself, you were so long letting me in."
+
+"If we'd guessed that it was you and apples," said Marjory, "we'd have
+met you at the gate."
+
+"Where's the other girl?" asked Mr. Black's big, cheery voice. "Doesn't
+she like apples, too?"
+
+"In the kitchen," chorused Jean, Marjory and Bettie.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Black, striding kitchenward, "here she is,
+knitting like any old lady. Aren't you coming in here to eat apples
+with the rest of us?"
+
+"Can't," mumbled Mabel.
+
+"What's the matter, grandma?" teased Mr. Black. "Rheumatism troubling
+you to-day?"
+
+"Nope," returned Mabel.
+
+"Lost all your teeth?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Are you knitting me a pair of socks or is it mittens?"
+
+"Just a chain," replied Mabel, suddenly beaming. "But, Mr. Black, does
+it really look as if I were knitting?"
+
+"Precisely," smiled Mr. Black. "So much so that you remind me of the
+story of the woman who sat on the trap door and knitted--By Jove! That
+_is_ a trap door! Here's the ring sticking up."
+
+The girls shot a quick glance at the floor. Then they gazed guiltily at
+one another. Sure enough! The tell-tale ring stood upright, ready for
+use. No one had thought to conceal it.
+
+"Is there a wounded soldier down there?" asked Mr. Black, jokingly.
+
+"No!" shouted all four with suspicious haste.
+
+The deep silence that followed was suddenly punctuated by a muffled
+sneeze from Rosa Marie. Undoubtedly, some of the pepper dislodged from
+the crack in the floor had sifted down to the prisoner.
+
+The faces of the four girls flushed guiltily. Mr. Black looked
+wonderingly at the little group. It was plain that something was wrong.
+Jean, who had always met her friend's glance with level, truthful eyes,
+was now looking most sheepishly at her own toes. Bettie, hitherto
+always ready to tell the whole truth, was now fiddling evasively with
+the corner of her apron. Marjory's fair skin was crimson; her usually
+frank blue eyes were intent on something under the kitchen table.
+
+"Is there some sort of an animal in that cellar?" demanded Mr. Black.
+
+Rosa Marie chose this moment to give another large sneeze.
+
+"Is it something you're afraid of?" demanded Mr. Black.
+
+"'Fraid of losing," mumbled Mabel, shamefacedly. Poor Mabel realized
+only too well that she, with her knitting and her too-perfect playing
+of the part, had given the secret away; and she felt all the bitterness
+of failure.
+
+Seizing the back of Mabel's chair, Mr. Black drew it swiftly off the
+trap door. In another moment, he had the door open.
+
+Rosa Marie, blinking at the sudden light, bobbed upward. Mr. Black
+involuntarily started back from the opening.
+
+"What under heavens is that!" he gasped. "A monkey?"
+
+And, indeed, the error was a perfectly natural one, for all he had been
+able to see was a tousled head of hair, beneath which gleamed small
+black eyes.
+
+"I should say not!" blazed Mabel. "It's my little girl--my Rosa Marie."
+
+"Does she bite? Is she dangerous? Is that why you treat her like
+potatoes?"
+
+"Most certainly not," returned Mabel, with dignity. "She's an Indian."
+
+"Bless me!" said Mr. Black, leaning cautiously forward. "Let's have a
+look at her."
+
+Now that the secret was out, everybody eagerly clutched some portion of
+Rosa Marie's clothing. She was drawn, with some difficulty and sundry
+tearings of cloth, from the "Soldier's Retreat." Mabel cuddled the
+blinking small person in her lap.
+
+"Did you pick her up in the woods?" asked Mr. Black, "or did you simply
+kidnap her? Or, dreadful thought! Did you order her by number from some
+catalogue? And did they charge you full price?"
+
+Then Mabel, helped by the other three, told all that they knew of the
+history of Rosa Marie; and of Mabel's affection for the queer brown
+baby. They told him everything. Mabel, with visions of the orphan
+asylum's doors yawning to engulf precious Rosa Marie, considered it
+a very sad story. She felt grieved and indignant because Mr. Black,
+instead of sympathizing, laughed until his sides shook. Even the
+pathetic diet of liver, codfish and prunes seemed to amuse him.
+
+"What would you have said if your mothers had asked you where this
+child was?" inquired Mr. Black presently. "I mean, when you had her
+down cellar?"
+
+Jean looked at Bettie, Bettie looked at Marjory, Marjory looked at
+Mabel.
+
+"We never thought of that," confessed Bettie.
+
+"Oh," groaned Mabel, holding Rosa Marie closer, "our plan isn't any
+good after all. We'd have to tell the truth if they asked; we always
+do."
+
+"Yes," said Jean, "they'd get it out of us at once."
+
+"Even," teased Marjory, shrewdly, "if Mabel, sitting upon that trap
+door, were not every bit as good as a printed sign."
+
+"Never mind," soothed Jean, slipping an arm about Mabel's shoulders,
+"we'd rather be honest than smart, since we can't be both."
+
+Mabel needed soothing. She sat still and made no sound; but large
+tears were rolling down her cheeks and splashing on Rosa Marie's
+black head. Mr. Black regarded them thoughtfully. He noticed too that
+Mabel's moderately white hand was closed tightly over Rosa Marie's
+brown fingers. It reminded him, some way, of his own youthful agony
+over parting with a puppy that he had not been allowed to keep--he had
+always regretted that puppy.
+
+Suddenly the front door, propelled by some unseen force, opened from
+without to admit the three mothers and Aunty Jane, followed closely by
+Mr. Tucker, Dr. Bennett and two young women in nurses' uniform. They
+crowded into the little parlor and filled it to overflowing. None of
+the Cottagers said a word; but Mabel, tears still rolling down her
+cheeks, silently clasped both arms tightly about Rosa Marie's body. It
+began to look as if Rosa Marie would have to be taken by force.
+
+"It's all arranged," announced Mrs. Bennett, breathlessly. "The asylum
+is willing to take her and she is to go at once with these young
+ladies. Come, Mabel, don't be foolish. Take your arms away. You're
+behaving very badly--There, there, I'll buy you something."
+
+"You're just a little too late," said Mr. Black, keeping watchful
+eyes on Mabel's speaking countenance. "I've decided to take the
+responsibility of Rosa Marie into my own hands."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Breaking the News
+
+
+WHEN Mr. Black went home that afternoon to explain the matter to
+his good sister, Mrs. Crane, he took with him not only Rosa Marie,
+but Jean, Marjory, Bettie and Mabel, whose parents had given them
+permission to escort the brown baby to her new home.
+
+"You see," said he, while waiting for Rosa Marie to be made somewhat
+more attractive, "I want you to tell the story to Mrs. Crane, precisely
+as you told it to me. But don't mention _me_ until you get to the very
+end."
+
+With her hair brushed and braided and her fat little body stuffed into
+a pink gingham apron that the Cottagers had laboriously cut down from
+a wrapper of Mrs. Halliday's, Rosa Marie looked her best, in spite of
+the fact that she wore no shoes and stockings. She trotted contentedly
+at Mabel's side; but Bettie, who was supposed to be walking with Mr.
+Black, pranced delightedly about him in circles, to show her gratitude.
+Jean and Marjory followed more sedately but with beaming countenances.
+
+Now that Mrs. Crane was no longer poor, she was always dressed very
+neatly in black silk. Except for that she was precisely the same jolly,
+good-natured woman that she had been when she lived alone in the little
+house just across the street from Dandelion Cottage. Now, however, she
+lived with her brother, Mr. Black, in his big, imposing, but rather
+gloomy house. She had no husband, he had no wife and neither had any
+children. Perhaps that is why they were both so fond of the Dandelion
+Cottagers.
+
+Mrs. Crane was planting bulbs in the garden when Mr. Black ushered his
+procession in at the gate.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said she, "here you are just in time to help. I
+always said that if ever I got a chance to plant all the tulip bulbs I
+wanted, I'd die of pure happiness; but I guess I stand _more_ chance
+of dying of a broken back. My land! I've planted two thousand three
+hundred and forty-eight of the best-looking bulbs I ever laid eyes
+on, and there ain't a hole in those boxes yet. They're all named,
+too. Here's Rachel Ruish, Rose Grisdelin, Rosy Mundi, Yellow Prince,
+the Duke of York--think of having _him_ in your front yard--and Lady
+Grandison, two inches apart, clear to the gate. But land! I suppose a
+body's tongue'd go lame counting _diamonds_."
+
+"Why don't you let Martin plant them?" asked Mr. Black, with a twinkle
+in his eye. It was plain that he enjoyed his talkative elderly sister.
+
+"And have them all bloom in China?" retorted Mrs. Crane. "Now you know,
+Peter, that Martin couldn't get a bulb right end up if there were
+printed directions on the skin of every bulb. But Jean there, and
+Bettie----"
+
+"We'll do it," cried the girls. "Just tell us how."
+
+"Two inches apart, pointed end up, all the way along those little
+trenches," directed Mrs. Crane, seating herself in the wheelbarrow.
+"No, not _you_, Mabel. You and Martin--Well, I won't _say_ it. Why!
+What's the matter with your face? Looks to me as if you'd dusted the
+coal bin with yourself and then cried about it. What's the trouble?"
+
+Thereupon Mabel introduced Rosa Marie, who had been shyly hiding behind
+a rosebush, told her story and graphically described the horrors of the
+orphan asylum.
+
+"While I don't believe that any orphan asylum is as black as you've
+painted that one," said Mrs. Crane, "it does seem a pity to shut a
+little outdoor animal like that up in a cage when she ain't used to it.
+Now, Peter, you listen to me. Why couldn't _we_ keep Rosa Marie here
+for a time. Like enough, her mother'll be back after her most any day.
+In the meantime, she'd be more company than a cat and easier to wash
+than a poodle."
+
+"Well now, I don't know," returned Mr. Black, winking at Mabel. "A
+child is a great deal of trouble."
+
+"Shame on you, Peter Black. It's only yesterday that you bought a
+wretched old horse to keep his owner from ill-treating him; and here
+you are refusing----"
+
+"Oh, not exactly refusing----"
+
+"Begrudging, anyway, to rescue that innocent lamb----"
+
+"She means black sheep," whispered Marjory, into Jean's convenient ear.
+
+"From that institution. Peter Black! I'm just going to keep that child,
+anyway."
+
+At this, all five laughed merrily. Rosa Marie, cheered by the sound,
+reached gravely into a paper bag, gravely handed each person a tulip
+bulb and appropriated one herself. She took a generous bite out of
+hers.
+
+"We'll plant 'em in a ring around that snowball bush," said Mrs. Crane,
+rescuing the bitten bulb, bite and all. "That shall be Rosa Marie's own
+flower bed."
+
+"There's a nursery on the second floor," said Mr. Black. "You girls
+must help us fix it up. And, Mabel, perhaps _you_ would like to spend
+this money for some toys that would just exactly suit Rosa Marie."
+
+Mabel beamed gratefully as she accepted the money and the
+responsibility. Never before had any one singled her out to perform
+a task that required discretion. It was always Jean, or Bettie, or
+sometimes even Marjory that was chosen. Never before had greatness
+been thrust upon Mabel. She lavished grateful, affectionate glances on
+Mr. Black and inwardly determined to save part of the cash with which
+to buy him a Christmas present, not realizing that that would be a
+misappropriation of funds.
+
+Mabel, however, felt a pang of jealousy when Rosa Marie, digging
+contentedly in the sand at Mrs. Crane's feet, allowed her former
+guardian to depart absolutely unnoticed.
+
+"I _did_ think," confided Mabel to Bettie, who walked beside her, "that
+she'd at least _look_ as if she cared."
+
+That night the mothers made peace with their daughters, and Aunty Jane
+extended a flag of truce to Marjory.
+
+"It was all for your own good," explained Mrs. Bennett, her arm about
+Mabel, who was missing the pleasant task of putting Rosa Marie to bed.
+"I couldn't let you grow up with a little Indian continually at your
+heels. You'd have grown tired of her, too. And by keeping silence so
+long, you did a great deal of harm. If we'd known about the matter at
+once, we might have been able to find her mother. Now it's too late."
+
+"I never thought of that," said Mabel, contritely. "I'll tell right
+away, next time."
+
+"Mabel! There mustn't _be_ a next time. Promise me this instant that
+you'll never borrow another baby unless you know that its mother really
+wants to keep it. Promise."
+
+"All right, I promise," said Mabel, cheerfully.
+
+"But I _can't_ think," remarked Mrs. Bennett, "what possessed Mr. Black
+to be so foolish as to take such a child into his own home."
+
+There were other persons that wondered, too, why Mr. Black should
+burden his household with the care of what Martin, his man, called
+an uncivilized savage; but the truth of the matter was just this.
+The large silent tears rolling down Mabel's forlorn countenance had
+suddenly proved too much for the tender heart of Mr. Black. In some
+ways, perhaps, impulsive Mr. Black was not a wise man; but, where
+children were concerned, there was no doubt of his being an exceedingly
+tender person.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+The Alarm
+
+
+NOW that the burden of caring for Rosa Marie was shifted to older and
+more competent shoulders, the Cottagers' thoughts returned to their
+school-work. It was time. Never had lessons been so neglected. Never
+before had four moderately intelligent little girls seemed so stupid.
+But of course with their minds filled with Rosa Marie, it had been
+impossible to keep the rivers of South America from lightmindedly
+running over into Asia, or the products of British Columbia from being
+exported from Calcutta.
+
+These fortunate girls attended a beautiful school. That is, the
+building was beautiful. It stood right in the middle of a great big
+grassy block, entirely surrounded, as Bettie put it, by street, which
+of course added greatly to its dignity. It was built of "raindrop"
+sandstone, a most interesting building material because no two blocks
+were alike and also because each stone looked as if it had just been
+sprinkled with big, spattering drops of rain. It was hard when looking
+at it to believe that it wasn't raining, and certain naughty youngsters
+delighted in fooling new teachers by pointing out the deceiving drops
+that flecked the balustrade. Perhaps even the grass was fooled by this
+semblance to showers for, in summer time, it grew so thriftily that
+no one had to be warned to "Keep off," so a great many little people
+frolicked in the schoolyard even during vacation.
+
+Of course the Dandelion Cottagers were not in the same classes in
+school. Jean, being the oldest, the most sedate and the most studious,
+was almost through the eighth grade. Marjory, being naturally very
+bright and also moderately industrious, was in the seventh. Mabel and
+Bettie were not exactly anywhere. You see, Bettie had had to stay out
+so often to keep the next to the youngest Tucker baby from falling
+downstairs, that naturally she had dropped behind all the classes that
+she had ever started with; and Mabel--of course Mabel _meant_ well,
+but when she studied at all it was usually the lesson for some other
+day; for this blundering maiden never _could_ remember which was the
+right page. But one day she happened by some lucky accident to stumble
+upon the right one, and on that solitary occasion she recited so very
+brilliantly that Miss Bonner and all the pupils dropped their books to
+listen in astonishment, and Mabel was marked one hundred.
+
+But in spite of this high mark in good black ink (if one stood less
+than seventy-five red ink was employed) the thing did not happen
+again that fall because Mabel was too busy bringing up Rosa Marie to
+study even the wrong lesson. However, she was exceedingly fond of
+pretty Miss Bonner and, having learned the exact date of that young
+woman's birthday, hoped to appease her by a gift to be paid for by
+contributions from all the pupils in Miss Bonner's room. Mabel herself
+received and cared for the slowly accumulating funds, and the little
+brown purse was becoming almost as weighty a responsibility as Rosa
+Marie had been. Sometimes it rested in Mabel's untrustworthy pocket,
+sometimes in her rather untidy desk, sometimes under her pillow in her
+own room at home. One day Mrs. Bennett found it there.
+
+"Why, Mabel!" she exclaimed. "Where did all this money come from? I
+know _you_ don't possess any."
+
+"It's the M. B. B. P. F.," responded Mabel, who was brushing her hair
+with evident enjoyment and two very handsome military brushes. "I guess
+I'd better put it in my pocket."
+
+"The what?" asked puzzled Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"The Miss Bonner Birthday Present Fund. I'm the Cus--Cus--Custodium."
+
+"The what kind of cuss?" asked Dr. Bennett, who had just poked his head
+in at the door to ask if, by any chance, Mabel had seen anything of his
+hair brushes.
+
+"The Custodium," replied Mabel, with dignity.
+
+"I think she means 'Custodian.'" explained Mrs. Bennett, rescuing the
+brushes.
+
+"Well," retorted Mabel, "the toad part was all right if the tail
+wasn't. Marjory named me that, and she's always using bigger words than
+she ought to."
+
+"So is somebody else," said Dr. Bennett, forgetting to scold about the
+brushes. "But I think the 'Custodium' had better hurry, or she'll be
+late for school."
+
+That was Friday, and the little brown purse contained two dollars and
+forty-seven cents, which seemed a tremendous sum to inexperienced Mabel.
+
+She remembered afterwards how very big, imposing and substantial
+the school building had looked that morning as she approached it and
+noticed some strangers fingering the "rain-drops" to see if they
+were real. Indeed, everybody, from the largest tax-payer down to the
+smallest pupil, was proud of that building because it was so big and
+because there was no more rain-drop sandstone left in the quarry from
+which it had been taken. Even thoughtless Mabel always swelled with
+pride when tourists paused to comment on the queer, spotted appearance
+of those massive walls. She meant to point that building out some day
+to her grandchildren as the fount of all her learning; for the huge,
+solid building looked as if it would certainly outlast not only Mabel's
+grandchildren but all their great-great-grandchildren as well. But it
+didn't.
+
+The catastrophe came on Saturday. Afterwards, everybody in Lakeville
+was glad, since the thing had to happen at all, that the day was
+Saturday, for no one liked to think what might have happened had the
+trouble come on a schoolday. It was also a Saturday in the first week
+of November, which was not quite so fortunate, as there was a stiff
+north wind.
+
+At two o'clock that afternoon the streets were almost deserted, but
+weatherproof Dick Tucker, with his hands in his pockets, was going
+along whistling at the top of his very good lungs. By the merest
+chance he glanced at the wide windows of Lakeville's most pretentious
+possession, the big Public School building.
+
+From four of the upper windows floated thin, softly curling plumes
+of gray smoke. The windows were closed, but the smoke appeared to be
+leaking out from the surrounding frames.
+
+"Hello!" muttered Dick, suddenly shutting off his whistle. "That looks
+like smoke. The janitor must be rebuilding the furnace fire. But why
+should smoke--I guess I'll investigate."
+
+The puzzled boy ran up the steps, pulled the vestibule door open and
+eagerly pressed his nose against the plate-glass panel of the inner
+door, which was locked. Through the glass, however, he could plainly
+see that the wide corridor was thick with smoke. He could even smell it.
+
+"Great guns!" exclaimed Dick. "There's things doing in there! That
+furnace never smokes as hard as all that and besides the Janitor always
+has Saturday afternoons off. Perhaps the basement door is unlocked."
+
+Dick ran down the steps to find that door, too, securely fastened.
+
+"I guess," said Dick, with another look at the curling smoke about the
+upper windows, "the thing for me to do is to turn in an alarm."
+
+Dick happened to know where the alarm-box was situated, so, feeling
+most important, yet withal strangely shaky as to legs, the lad made for
+the corner, a good long block distant, smashed the glass according to
+directions, and sent in the alarm, a thing that he had always longed to
+do.
+
+Five minutes later, the big red hosecart, with gong ringing, firemen
+shouting and dogs barking, was dashing up the street. The hook and
+ladder company followed and a meat wagon, or rather a meat-wagon horse,
+galloped after. The foundry whistle began to give the ward number in
+long, melancholy, terrifying toots and the hosehouse bell joined in
+with a mad clamor. People poured from the houses along the hosecart's
+route, for in Lakeville it was customary for private citizens to attend
+all fires.
+
+Dick, feeling most important, stood on the schoolhouse steps and
+pointed upward. The hosecart stopped with a jerk that must have
+surprised the horses, firemen leaped down and in a twinkling the
+foremost had smashed in the big glass door.
+
+"It's a fire all right," said he.
+
+Meanwhile the Janitor, chopping wood in his own backyard (which was his
+way of enjoying his afternoons off), had listened intently to the fire
+alarm.
+
+"Six-Two," said he, suddenly dropping his ax. "Guess I'll have a look
+at that fire. That's pretty close to my school."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The Fire
+
+
+JEAN, Bettie, Marjory and Mabel ran with the rest to see what was
+happening, for their homes were not far from the schoolhouse. Indeed,
+owing to its ample setting, the building was plainly visible from
+all directions; and from a distance, it always loomed larger than
+anything else in the town. To all the citizens it was a most unusual
+and alarming sight to see thick, black smoke curling about the eaves
+and rising in a threatening column above the familiar building. Such a
+thing had never happened before.
+
+Marjory was the first of the quartette to discover what was going on.
+She had opened her bedroom window the better to count the strokes of
+the fire-bell when, to her astonishment, she saw the fire itself or at
+least the smoke thereof. Her first thought was of her three friends;
+for of course no Cottager could view such a spectacle as this promised
+to be without the companionship of the other three.
+
+So Marjory flew around the block--like a little excited hen, Dr. Tucker
+said--and collected the girls. They ran in a body to join the swelling
+crowd that surrounded the smoking building.
+
+"Keep back out of danger," called Aunty Jane, who was watching the fire
+from her upstairs window.
+
+"We will," shrieked Marjory, who, with the other three, was rushing by.
+
+"Don't get mixed up with the hose," warned Dr. Tucker, who was carrying
+young Peter to view the fire.
+
+"We won't," promised Bettie. "We'll stand on the very safest corner."
+
+"This is it," declared Jean, stopping short on the sidewalk. "We can
+see right over the heads of the folks that are close to the building."
+
+"Should you think," panted Mabel, hopefully, "that there'd be school
+Monday?"
+
+"Looks doubtful," said Marjory.
+
+"Not upstairs, anyway," returned Jean. "Everything must be smoked
+perfectly black. And it's getting worse every minute instead of better."
+
+"Goodness!" cried Mabel, suddenly turning pale at a new and alarming
+thought. "I do hope it won't burn _my_ room. The money for Miss
+Bonner's birthday present is in my desk. It's--it's a horrible lot of
+money to lose. I ought never to have left it there. Dear me! Do you
+think----"
+
+"Phew!" cried Jean, paying no heed to Mabel. "Look at that!"
+
+"That" was a terrifying flash of red that suddenly illumined six of the
+big upper windows.
+
+"The High School room," groaned Bettie. "It's--it's _flames_!"
+
+"Hang it!" growled an indignant tax-payer. "Why doesn't somebody _do_
+something? That building cost fifty thousand dollars."
+
+"Fire started from a defective flue on top floor," explained another
+bystander, "but that's no reason why the whole place should go. There's
+no fire downstairs, but there _will_ be--What's that? No water? Broken
+hydrant?"
+
+Mabel listened attentively. The bystander continued:
+
+"Then the whole building is doomed. It's had time enough to get a
+tremendous start."
+
+"Oh, look!" cried Jean. "It's bursting through into the next room--_my_
+room! Oh, how _dreadful_! All our plants, our books, our pictures--Oh,
+oh! I can't bear to look."
+
+Firemen and volunteer helpers were, hurrying in and out the wide
+south door. Men carried out towering piles of books and tossed them
+ruthlessly to the ground. Miss Bonner's big pink geranium was added to
+the heap. The Janitor appeared with the big hall clock, that wouldn't
+go at all on ordinary occasions but was now striking seven hundred and
+twenty-seven--or something like that--all at one stretch. It seemed to
+be crying out in alarm. The roar of flames could now be heard, likewise.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, wheeling suddenly. "Where's Mabel? Wasn't she
+right beside you a minute ago, Bettie? I certainly saw her there."
+
+"She was--but she isn't now," returned Bettie, looking about anxiously.
+"I thought she was behind me."
+
+"Dear me!" murmured motherly Jean. "I hope she hasn't gone any closer.
+Suppose the scallops on that roof should begin to melt off."
+
+"Oh, look!" cried Marjory. "There! In the doorway!"
+
+All three looked just in time to see a short, not-very-slender girl in
+an unmistakable red cap dart in at the smoky doorway.
+
+"Oh," groaned Jean, "it's Mabel!"
+
+"Oh," moaned Marjory, "why did I ever tell her that there was a fire?"
+
+"I'm afraid," hazarded Bettie, "that she's gone to Miss Bonner's room
+to get that money."
+
+Bettie was right. That was exactly what Mabel had done.
+
+All along Mabel's way hands had stretched out to stop the flying
+figure. But the hands were always just a little too late. You see, the
+owners of the tardy hands did not realize quickly enough that rash
+little Mabel actually meant to enter a building whose top floor was
+all in flames. She was fairly inside before the onlookers grasped the
+situation.
+
+"How perfectly foolish!" cried Marjory, stamping her foot in helpless
+rage. "Of course somebody'll get her out--there's two men going in
+now--but how perfectly silly for her to go in at all!"
+
+Mabel, however, was not feeling at all foolish. No, indeed. The little
+girl, to her own way of thinking, was doing a worthy, even a heroic,
+deed. She was rescuing the precious two dollars and forty-seven
+cents that her class had so laboriously raised to buy Miss Bonner
+a birthday gift. She would have liked to accomplish it in a little
+less spectacular manner, but, no other way being available, she had
+made the best of circumstances and was ignoring the crowd. She hoped,
+indeed, that no one had noticed her; with so much else to look at it
+seemed as if one small girl might easily remain unobserved. To be sure
+she was risking her life, the life of the only little girl that her
+parents possessed; but that seemed a small affair beside two dollars
+and forty-seven cents. The roof might fall, the cornice might drop, the
+huge chimney might collapse, the suffocating smoke or scorching flames
+might suddenly pour into that still unburned lower room. Let them!
+Heroes never stopped for such trifles with such a sum at stake.
+
+By this time, Jean, Marjory and Bettie were white and absolutely
+speechless with fear. Four firemen were sitting on Dr. Bennett to keep
+him from rushing in after the little girl he had promptly recognized as
+his own, and five women were supporting and encouraging Mrs. Bennett,
+who had grown too weak to stand although she still had her wits about
+her.
+
+"Fifty dollars reward," Mr. Black was shouting, "to the man that gets
+that child!"
+
+He would have gone after her himself, but Mrs. Crane had him firmly by
+the coat-tails and both Dr. and Mrs. Tucker were clinging to his arms.
+
+"Be aisy, be aisy," Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman was murmuring to the
+world in general. "Miss Mabel's the kind thot's always escapin' jist be
+the skin av her teeth. Rest aisy. Thim fire-laddies'll be havin' her
+out av thot dure in another jiffy."
+
+But, although the crowd rested as "aisy" as it could, the moments went
+by and no Mabel appeared.
+
+With every instant the fire grew worse. By this time, the smoke and
+angry sheets of flame had burst through the roof and were streaming,
+with a mighty, threatening roar, straight up into the blackened sky--a
+splendid sight that was visible for a long distance. There was no water
+to check the mighty fire, for, a very few moments after the hose had
+been attached, the hydrant had burst and the water that should have
+been busy quenching the fire was quietly drenching the feet of many an
+unheeding bystander.
+
+And presently the thing that everybody expected happened. With a
+lingering, horrible crash a large part of the upper floor dropped to
+the main hall below. Smoke poured from the lower doors and windows.
+In another moment leaping hungry flames were visible in every room
+except the basement. The entire superstructure seemed now just like a
+gigantic, topless furnace; and of course it was no longer possible for
+even the firemen to venture inside.
+
+But _where_ was Mabel?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A Heroine's Come-Down
+
+
+MABEL, with the Janitor and four pursuing firemen at her reckless
+heels, had made a bold dash through the long corridor that led to Miss
+Bonner's room. Owing to a strong upward draft, there was surprisingly
+little smoke in this corridor and none at all in Miss Bonner's distant
+corner.
+
+Still hotly pursued, Mabel, who had the advantage of knowing exactly
+whither she was bound, darted down the narrow aisle, reached into her
+desk, and, unselfishly passing by sundry dearly loved treasures of her
+own, seized the fat brown purse. Such joy to find it when so many of
+the desks had been stripped of their contents!
+
+She was none too soon, for the next moment the Janitor's hands had
+closed upon her and, plump as she was, the sturdy fellow easily
+carried her out of the room, although Mabel protested crossly that she
+would much rather walk. In this uncomfortable fashion they reached the
+corridor.
+
+[Illustration: THE STURDY FELLOW CARRIED HER OUT OF THE ROOM.]
+
+"Not that way--not that way!" shouted the firemen, pointing towards
+a glowing, spreading patch on the ceiling of the main hall. "It's
+breaking through--you can't reach the door! It's not safe at that end."
+
+"Down to the basement!" shouted the Janitor, nodding toward a narrow
+doorway, through which the men promptly vanished.
+
+Then, seemingly, a new thought assailed the Janitor.
+
+"Open door number twelve," he shouted after the men.
+
+Then, hurriedly pushing up a sliding door at the safest end of the hall
+and murmuring "Quicker this way," the Janitor unceremoniously lifted
+Mabel and dropped her down the big dust-chute.
+
+What a place for a heroine! In spite of her surprise, Mabel felt
+deeply mortified. It was humiliating enough for a would-be rescuer to
+be rescued; but to be dropped down a horrid, stuffy dust-chute and
+to land with a queer, springy thud on a pile of sliding stuff--the
+contents of a dozen or more waste-baskets and the results of
+innumerable sweepings--was worse.
+
+In a very few seconds, the hasty Janitor had opened the lower door of
+the chute and, with the firemen standing by, was calmly hauling her out
+by her feet--Oh! She could _never_ tell that part of it.
+
+And then, as if that were not bad enough, that inconsiderate Janitor
+seized her by the elbow and hurried her right into the coal bin, forced
+her to march over eighty tons of black, dusty, sliding coal and finally
+compelled her to crawl--yes, _crawl_--out of a small basement window on
+the safest side of the building. The only explanation that the rescuer
+vouchsafed was a gruff statement that the fire was "More to the other
+end" and that short-cuts saved time. Mabel tried to tell him what
+_she_ thought about it, but the Janitor seemed too excited to listen.
+
+Of course, by this time, the Bennetts, the Cottagers, the firemen, the
+Janitor's wife and most of the bystanders were in a perfectly dreadful
+state of mind; for the coal-hole window was not on their side of the
+building--Mabel was glad of that--so none of her friends witnessed
+her exit. The Cottagers, in particular, were clutching each other and
+fairly quaking with fear when a familiar voice behind them panted
+breathlessly:
+
+"I saved it, girls."
+
+Jean, Marjory and Bettie wheeled as one girl. It was certainly Mabel's
+voice, the shape and size were Mabel's, but the color----
+
+"Oh!" cried Jean, in a horrified tone. "Are you _burned_? Are you all
+burned up to a crisp?"
+
+But thoughtful Bettie, after one searching look to make certain that
+it really was Mabel, had not stopped to ask questions, nor to hear
+them answered. She remembered that the Bennetts were still anxious
+concerning their missing daughter, and straightway flew to relieve
+their minds.
+
+"She's safe, Mabel's safe," she shouted, running to the Bennetts, to
+Mr. Black, to the Tuckers, to all Mabel's friends, and completely
+forgetting her own usual shyness. "Yes, she's all safe. No, not burned;
+just scorched, I guess."
+
+Then everybody crowded around Mabel. Mrs. Bennett was about to kiss
+her, but desisted just in time.
+
+"Mabel!" she cried, as Jean had done. "Are you burned?"
+
+"No," mumbled Mabel, indignantly. "I'm not even singed. I--I just came
+out through the coal hole, but you needn't tell. That horrid Janitor
+dragged me out over a whole mountain of coal."
+
+"Thank Heaven!" breathed Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Huh!" snorted Mabel, "that's a mighty queer thing to thank Heaven for,
+when it was only last night that I had a perfectly good bath. That's
+the meanest Janitor----"
+
+"Where is he?" demanded Dr. Bennett, eagerly. "I must thank him."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, "I must thank him too."
+
+"And I," said Dr. Tucker, "should like to shake hands with him."
+
+And would you believe it! Not a soul had a word of praise for Mabel's
+bravery. Not a person commended her for saving that precious purse.
+Instead, the local paper devoted a whole column to lauding the prompt
+action of that sickening Janitor, Dr. Bennett gave him a splendid gold
+watch, the School Board recommended him for a Carnegie medal--all
+because of the dust-chute.
+
+"Don't let me hear any more," Dr. Bennett said that night, "about that
+miserable two dollars and forty-seven cents. I'd rather give you two
+hundred and forty-seven dollars than have you take such risks."
+
+"Yes, sir," rejoined Mabel, meekly. "But you didn't say anything like
+that day before yesterday when I asked for three more cents to make it
+an even two-fifty. I must say I don't understand grown folks."
+
+"Mabel, you go--go take that bath. And when you're clean enough to
+kiss, come back and say good-night."
+
+"Yes, sir," sighed Mabel, "but I _do_ wish I _could_ raise three more
+cents."
+
+Mr. Bennett fished two quarters and three pennies from his pocket and
+handed them to Mabel.
+
+"There," said he, "you have an even three dollars, but I hope you won't
+consider it necessary to rescue them in case of any more fires."
+
+Fortunately, there were no more fires; but the original one made up for
+this lack by lasting for an astonishing length of time. For seven days
+the school building continued to burn in a safe but expensive manner;
+for the eighty tons of coal over which Mabel had walked so unwillingly
+had caught fire late in the afternoon and had burned steadily until
+entirely reduced to ashes. It was a strange, uncanny sight after dark
+to see the mighty ruin still lighted by a fitful glare from within.
+Only the four walls, the bare outer shell of the huge structure,
+remained. You see, all the rest of it had been wood--and steam pipes.
+Every splinter of wood was gone; but the pipes, and there seemed to
+be miles of them, were twisted like mighty serpents. They filled the
+cellar and seemed fairly to writhe in the scarlet glow. It made one
+think of dragons and volcanoes and things like that; and caused creepy
+feelings in one's spine.
+
+Even the dust-chute was gone. Mabel was glad of that. She hated to
+think of the Janitor proudly pointing it out to visitors and saying:
+
+"I once dropped a girl down there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A Birthday Party
+
+
+BUT if Mabel derived little joy from her experience as a heroine, there
+was at least some satisfaction in knowing that there could be no school
+on Monday, for Mabel was decidedly partial toward holidays.
+
+"If I ever teach school," she often said, "there'll be two Saturdays
+every week and no afternoon sessions."
+
+Jean, however, really liked to go to school. So did Marjory, but Bettie
+was uncertain.
+
+"If," said Bettie, "I could go long enough to know what grade I
+belonged in it might be interesting; but when you only attend in
+patches it's sort of mixing. There's a little piece of me in three
+different grades."
+
+When Mrs. Crane realized that there could be no school on Monday,
+she too was pleased. She stopped a moment after church on Sunday to
+intercept the girls on their way to Sunday School.
+
+"My!" said she. "How spruce you look!"
+
+They did look "spruce." Tall Jean was all in brown, even to her gloves
+and overshoes. Marjory's trim little winter suit was of dark green
+broadcloth with gray furs, for neat Aunty Jane, whatever her other
+failings, always kept Marjory very beautifully dressed. Bettie's short,
+kilted skirt was red under a boyish black reefer that had once belonged
+to Dick, and a black hat that Bob had discarded as "too floppy" had
+been wired and trimmed with scarlet cloth to match the skirt. This
+hand-me-down outfit was very becoming to dark-eyed Bettie, but then,
+Bettie was pretty in anything. Plump Mabel was buttoned tightly into a
+navy blue suit. Although she had owned it for barely six weeks it was
+no longer big enough either lengthwise or sidewise.
+
+"But," said Mabel, cheerfully, "by holding my breath most of the time I
+can stand it for one hour on Sundays."
+
+"How would you like," asked Mrs. Crane, "to spend to-morrow with me and
+Rosa Marie?"
+
+"We'd love to," said Jean.
+
+"We'd like it a lot," said Marjory.
+
+"Just awfully," breathed Bettie.
+
+"Oh, goody!" gurgled Mabel.
+
+"You see," said Mrs. Crane, "I'm not altogether easy about Rosa Marie.
+I do every living thing I can think of, but someway I can't get inside
+that child's shell. I declare, it seems sometimes as if she really
+pities me for being so stupid. And I think she's falling off in her
+looks."
+
+"Oh, I _hope_ not," cried Mabel, fervently.
+
+"No," agreed Marjory, "it certainly wouldn't do for Rosa Marie to fall
+off very _much_."
+
+"However," returned Mrs. Crane, loyally, "she might be very much worse
+and at any rate she is warm and well fed, even if she does seem a
+bit--foreign. So that Janitor put you down through the dust-chute, did
+he, Mabel? You must have landed with quite a jolt."
+
+"No," returned Mabel, rather sulkily, for every one was mentioning the
+dust-chute. "I had all September's and October's sweepings to land on.
+It was all mushy and springy, like mother's bed."
+
+"How," pursued kindly Mrs. Crane, "did he get you out?"
+
+"I'd--I'd rather not say," mumbled Mabel, flushing a brilliant crimson.
+No one else had thought to ask this dreaded question, and the papers,
+fortunately, had overlooked this detail.
+
+"Why!" giggled teasing Marjory, "he _must_ have dragged her out by
+her feet because she's so fat that she couldn't possibly have turned
+herself over in that narrow space. It's just like a chimney, you know.
+I've often looked down that place and wondered if Santa Claus could
+manage the trip down. Oh, Mabel! It must have been funny! Tell us about
+it."
+
+Mabel grinned, but it was rather a sickly grin.
+
+"First," she said, "he clawed out a lot of papers and stuff. Ugh! It
+was horrid to feel everything sliding right out from under me--I didn't
+know _how_ far I was going to drop. Then he grabbed my two ankles and
+just jerked me out on the bias through the little door at the bottom. I
+suppose it was a lot quicker. But he _didn't_ need to make me climb all
+that coal."
+
+"Yes, he did," returned Jean. "The cornice on the other three sides was
+all loose and flopping up and down in the flames. Pieces kept falling.
+The coal-bin side was the last to burn--the wind went the other
+way--and Miss Bonner's room was the last to catch fire."
+
+"That Janitor," declared Mrs. Crane, with conviction, "knew exactly
+what he was about. Now, girls, you'll be sure to come to-morrow, won't
+you? I think it will do Rosa Marie good and there's a reason why I'd
+like a little company myself, but I shan't tell you just now what it
+is."
+
+"Oh, do," begged all four.
+
+"No," returned Mrs. Crane. "It's a secret, and not a living soul knows
+it but me. I'll tell you to-morrow."
+
+"We'll _surely_ come," promised the girls.
+
+Of course they kept their promise. The four Cottagers arrived very soon
+after breakfast, were let in most sedately by Mr. Black's man, who
+smiled when the unceremonious visitors rushed pell-mell past him to
+fall upon Mrs. Crane, who was watering plants in the breakfast room.
+
+"Tell us the secret!" shouted Mabel. "Oh--I mean good-morning!"
+
+"Good-morning," smiled Mrs. Crane, setting the watering pot in a safe
+place. "The secret isn't a very big one. It's only that to-day is
+my birthday and I thought I'd like to have a party. You're it. The
+cook is making me a birthday cake, but she doesn't know that it is a
+birthday cake."
+
+"Goody!" cried Mabel.
+
+"Doesn't Mr. Black know it's your birthday?" queried Jean.
+
+"I don't think so. You see, it's a long time since Peter and I spent
+birthdays under the same roof, and men don't remember such things very
+well. We'll surprise him with the cake to-night. Now let's go to the
+nursery."
+
+Rosa Marie's dull countenance brightened at sight of her four friends.
+She gave four solemn little bobs with her head.
+
+"Mercy!" cried Marjory, "she's learning manners."
+
+"And see," said Bettie, "she's stringing beads."
+
+"That's a surprise," said Mrs. Crane, proudly. "I taught her that."
+
+"Fourteen," said Rosa Marie, unexpectedly.
+
+"Goodness me!" cried Mabel. "Can she count?"
+
+"Ye-es," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly, "but not to depend on. In
+fact, fourteen is the only counting word she _can_ say. Peter taught
+her that."
+
+"Fourteen," repeated Rosa Marie, holding up her string of beads.
+
+"You ridiculous baby!" laughed Mabel, hugging her. "Who are the pretty
+beads for?"
+
+Rosa Marie hurriedly clapped the string about her own brown throat.
+
+"No, no," remonstrated Mrs. Crane. "You're making them for Mabel."
+
+But Rosa Marie set her small white teeth firmly together and continued
+to hold the beads against her own plump neck.
+
+"_She_ knows whose beads they are," laughed Jean.
+
+"I can't teach her a single Christian virtue," sighed Mrs. Crane.
+"There isn't one unselfish hair in that child's head."
+
+"She's too young," encouraged Bettie. "All babies are little savages."
+
+"Not Anne Halliday," said Jean, who fairly worshiped her small cousin.
+
+"That's different," said Marjory. "Anne was born with manners."
+
+"The little Tuckers weren't," soothed Bettie. "Rosa Marie will be
+generous enough in time."
+
+"I wish I could believe it," sighed Mrs. Crane.
+
+"Hi, hi! What's all this racket?" cried Mr. Black from the doorway. "Is
+Rosa Marie doing all that talking? Get your things on quick, all of
+you, and come for a ride with me."
+
+"A ride!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane. "What in?"
+
+"An automobile," returned Mr. Black, turning to wink comically at
+Bettie.
+
+"An automobile!" echoed Mrs. Crane. "I'd like to know whose. There's
+only one in town and I don't know the owners."
+
+"Yours," twinkled Mr. Black. "It's your birthday present."
+
+"How did you know that this was the day?"
+
+"Perhaps I remembered," said Mr. Black, smiling rather tenderly at his
+old sister. "You _used_ to have them on this day."
+
+"I do still," beamed Mrs. Crane. "That's why I invited the girls;
+they're my birthday party. But what's this about automobiles?"
+
+"Only one. It's yours."
+
+"Peter Black! I don't believe you."
+
+"Look out the hall window."
+
+Everybody rushed to the big window in the front hall. Sure enough! A
+splendid motor car stood at the gate.
+
+"Peter," faltered Mrs. Crane, "have I _got_ to ride in that? I've never
+set foot in one, and I'm sure I'd be scared to at this late day."
+
+"What! Not ride in your own automobile? Bless you, Sarah, in another
+week you'll refuse to stay out of it. Get your things on, everybody;
+and warm ones, too. Find extra wraps for these girls, Sarah. There's
+room for everybody but Rosa Marie."
+
+"Now, isn't that just like a man?" said Mrs. Crane, looking about
+helplessly. "Whose clothes does he think you're going to wear for
+'extra wraps'? His, or mine?"
+
+Everybody laughed, for obviously Mr. Black's house was a poor one in
+which to find little girls' garments.
+
+"We'll stop at your houses," said he, "and pick up some duds. Besides,
+perhaps your mothers might like to know that you've been kidnaped.
+What! no hat on yet? Here, pin this on," said Mr. Black, handing Mrs.
+Crane a pink dust-cap. "I can't wait all day."
+
+"Mercy! That's not a bonnet," cried Mrs. Crane, scurrying away. "I'll
+be ready in two minutes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+An Unexpected Treat
+
+
+"PETER," demanded Mrs. Crane, stopping short on the horse-block, "who's
+going to run that thing?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Not with me in it. You don't know how."
+
+"My dear, I've been learning the business for five weeks."
+
+"So _that's_ what has taken you to Bancroft every afternoon for all
+that time?"
+
+"That's exactly what," admitted Mr. Black.
+
+"And you're _sure_," queried Mrs. Crane, doubtfully, "that you
+understand all those fixings?"
+
+"Every one of them."
+
+"Will you promise to go slow?"
+
+"There's a fine for exceeding the speed limit," twinkled Mr. Black.
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that," said Mrs. Crane, permitting her patient
+brother to help her into the vehicle. "My! but these cushions are soft."
+
+"Yes," said Bettie, "it's just like sitting on baking powder biscuits
+before they're baked."
+
+"How do you know?" asked Mr. Black.
+
+"Because I've tried it. You see, ministers' wives are dreadfully
+interrupted persons, and one night when Mother was making biscuits
+some visitors came. Instead of popping one of the pans into the oven,
+mother dropped it on a dining-room chair on her way to the door and
+forgot all about it. When I came in to supper that chair was at my
+place and I flopped right down on those biscuits! And I had to _stay_
+sitting on them because Father had asked one of the visitors--_such_
+a particular-looking person--to stay to tea; and I knew that Mother
+wouldn't want a perfectly strange man to know about it."
+
+"That was certainly thoughtful," smiled Mr. Black. "Now, is every one
+comfortable? If she is, we'll go for those extra wraps."
+
+The new machine rolled down the street and turned the corner in the
+neatest way imaginable. Mrs. Crane looked decidedly uneasy at first;
+but when Mr. Black had successfully steered the birthday present past
+the ice wagon, a coal team, a prancing pony and two street cars, she
+folded the hands that had been nervously clutching the side of the car
+and leaned back with a relieved sigh.
+
+But when Mabel asked a question, Mrs. Crane silenced her quickly.
+
+"Don't talk to him," she implored. "There's no telling _what_ might
+happen to us if he were to take any part of his mind off that--that
+helm, for even a single second. Don't even _look_ at him."
+
+What did happen was this. After the extra wraps had been collected
+and donned, Mr. Black carried his charges all the way to Bancroft, a
+distance of seventeen miles, in perfect safety. The road was good, the
+day was mild and the only team they passed obligingly turned in at its
+own gate before they reached it. They stopped in front of the biggest
+and best hotel in Bancroft.
+
+"Everybody out for dinner," ordered Mr. Black.
+
+"But, Peter," expostulated Mrs. Crane, hanging back, bashfully, "I'm in
+my every-day clothes."
+
+"Well, this isn't Sunday; and you always look well dressed. You're a
+very neat woman, Sarah."
+
+"Well I _am_ neat, but black alpaca isn't silk even if my sleeves _are_
+this year's. And for goodness' sake, Peter, don't ask me to pronounce
+any of that bill of fare if it isn't plain every-day English, for
+you know there isn't a French fiber in my tongue. You order for me.
+There's only one thing I can't eat and that's parsnips."
+
+It was a very nice dinner and plain English enough to suit even
+matter-of-fact Mrs. Crane. After the first few bashful moments, the
+four girls chattered so merrily that all the guests at other tables
+caught themselves listening and smiling sympathetically.
+
+"I never ate a really truly hotel dinner before," confided Bettie,
+happily.
+
+"And to think," sighed Jean, contentedly, "of doing it without knowing
+you were going to! That always makes things nicer."
+
+"And I _never_ expected to ride in a navy-blue automobile," murmured
+Marjory.
+
+"Or to have four kinds of potatoes," breathed Mabel, who sat half
+surrounded by empty dishes--"little birds' bath-tubs," she called them.
+
+"You must be a vegetarian," smiled Mr. Black.
+
+"N-no," denied Mabel. "Only a potatorian."
+
+"Mabel!" objected Marjory. "There isn't any such word."
+
+"Yes, there is," returned Mabel, calmly. "I just made it."
+
+"Well, I'm sure," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I never expected to have any such
+birthday as this."
+
+"You see," said Mr. Black, giving his sister's plump elbow a kindly
+squeeze, "this is a good many birthdays rolled into one."
+
+"It seems hard," mourned Mabel, who was earnestly scanning the bill of
+fare, "to read about so many kinds of dessert when you've room enough
+left for only three. I wish I'd began saving space sooner."
+
+"You're in luck," laughed Bettie. "A very small, thin one is all _I_
+can manage--pineapple ice, I guess."
+
+"Anyway," said Marjory, "I shan't choose bread pudding. We have that
+every Tuesday and Friday at home. Aunty Jane has regular times for
+everything, so I always know just what's coming. I'm going to have
+something different--hot mince pie, I guess."
+
+"Ice-cream," said Jean, "with hot chocolate sauce."
+
+"Bring _me_," said Mabel, turning to the waiter, "hot mince pie,
+ice-cream with hot chocolate sauce and a pineapple ice with little
+cakes."
+
+"Bring little cakes for everybody," added Mr. Black.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, "I don't know when I've been so hungry."
+
+"Now," remarked Mr. Black, half an hour later, "I think we'd better be
+jogging along toward home because it won't be as warm when the sun goes
+down and I want to show you some of the sights in Bancroft--there's a
+pretty good candy shop a few blocks from here--before we start toward
+Lakeville. We can run down in about an hour."
+
+"Peter," demanded Mrs. Crane, "what _is_ that speed limit?"
+
+"About eight miles an hour."
+
+"Hum--and it's seventeen miles----"
+
+"Now, Sarah, don't go to doing arithmetic--you know you were never
+very good at it. If I were to keep strictly within that limit you'd
+all want to get out and push. Got all your wraps? Whose muff is this?
+Here's a glove. Whose neck belongs to this pussy-cat thing? Here's a
+handkerchief and two more gloves--Well, well! It's a good thing you had
+somebody along to gather up your duds. What! My hat? Why, that's so, I
+_did_ have a cap--here it is in my coat pocket."
+
+There was still time after the pleasant ride home for a good frolic
+with Rosa Marie and a cozy meal with Mrs. Crane; strangely enough,
+everybody was again hungry enough to enjoy the big birthday cake and
+the good apple-sauce that went with it. Then Mr. Black carried them all
+home in the motor car and delivered each damsel at her own door. But
+only one stayed delivered, for the other three immediately ran around
+the block to meet at Jean's always popular home. You see, they had to
+talk it all over without the restraint of their host's presence.
+
+"I think," said Mabel, ecstatically, "that Mr. Black is just too dear
+for words. _Some_ folks are too stingy to live, with their automobiles
+and horses and never _think_ of giving anybody a ride."
+
+"He's certainly very generous," agreed Jean.
+
+"Of course," ventured Marjory, meditatively, "he has plenty of money or
+he couldn't do nice things."
+
+"He would anyway," declared Bettie. "It's the way he's made. Don't you
+remember how Mrs. Crane was always being good to people even when she
+was so dreadfully poor? Well, Mr. Black would be just like that, too,
+even if he hadn't a single dollar. He has a Santa Claus heart."
+
+"There _are_ folks," admitted Marjory, "that wouldn't know how to give
+anybody a good time if they had all the money in the world. There's
+Aunty Jane, for instance. She's a _very_ good woman, with a terribly
+pricking conscience, and I know she'd like to make things pleasant for
+me if she knew how, but she doesn't, poor thing. She doesn't know a
+good time when she sees one. And Mrs. Howard Slater doesn't, either."
+
+"Good-evening, girls," said Mrs. Mapes, coming in with a newspaper in
+her hand. "I _thought_ I heard voices in here. Have you had a nice day?
+You're just in time to read the paper; there's something in it that
+will interest you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A Scattered School
+
+
+IT seemed too bad for such a delightful day to end sorrowfully, but
+the evening paper certainly brought disquieting news. It stated that
+the School Board hoped to provide, within a very few days, suitable
+schoolrooms for all the pupils. And, in another item, the unfeeling
+editor complimented the Board on its enterprise.
+
+"I'd like that Board a whole lot better," said Marjory, "if it weren't
+so enterprising. I s'posed we were going to have at least a month to
+play in."
+
+"Just before Christmas, too," grumbled Mabel. "They might at least have
+waited until I'd finished Father's shoe-bag. And what do you think?
+Mother says I'd better give that Janitor a Christmas present!"
+
+"Perhaps the paper is mistaken," soothed Jean. "You know it always is
+about the weather reports. If it says 'Fair,' it's sure to rain; and
+when it says 'Colder,' it's quite certain to be warm. Besides, there
+isn't a place in town big enough for all that school."
+
+But this time it was Jean and not the paper that was mistaken. In just
+a few days the School Board announced that its hopes were realized.
+It had found "suitable quarters" for all the classes. Two grades went
+into the basement of the Baptist Church. The underground portion of
+the Methodist edifice accommodated two more. The A. O. U. W. Hall
+opened its doors to three others. A benevolent private citizen took
+in the kindergarten. A downtown store hastily transformed itself from
+an unsuccessful harness shop into nearly as unsuccessful a haven for
+two other grades. The City Hall gave up its Council Chamber to the
+Seniors, and the Masons loaned their dining-room to the Juniors,
+without, however, providing any refreshment. The enterprising Board
+had telegraphed for desks the very day of the fire; and as soon as
+that dreadfully prompt furniture arrived, it was remorselessly screwed
+into place. The Stationer, too, had speedily ordered books. They, too,
+traveled with unseemly haste from New York to Lakeville. By Thursday,
+less than a week after the fire, there were desks and seats and books
+for everybody; and would you believe it, they even kept school on
+Saturday, that week!
+
+And now, an utterly unforeseen thing happened. Hitherto Jean, who was
+usually the first to be ready, had stopped for Marjory and Bettie. All
+three had stopped to finish dressing Mabel, who always needed a great
+deal of assistance, and then all four had walked merrily to school
+together. But now this happy scheme was entirely ruined, for here was
+Jean doing algebra under the Baptist roof, Bettie struggling with
+grammar in the Methodist basement, Marjory climbing two long flights
+of stairs to the A. O. U. W. Hall and Mabel passing six saloons to
+reach her desk in the made-over harness shop.
+
+"It isn't just what we'd choose," apologized the School Board, "but it
+won't last forever. We'll build just as soon as we can."
+
+Except for the inconvenience of having to go to school separately the
+children were rather pleased with the novelty of moving into such
+unusual quarters as the Board had provided; but the mothers were not at
+all satisfied.
+
+"That Baptist cellar is damp and Jean's throat is delicate," complained
+Mrs. Mapes. "I know she'll be sick half the winter; but of course
+she'll have to go to school there as long as there's no better place."
+
+"That Methodist Church is no place for children," declared Mrs. Tucker.
+"Its brick walls were condemned seven years ago and it's likely to fall
+down at any moment, even if they did brace it up with iron bands. But
+Bettie's too far behind now for me to take her out of school, so I
+suppose she'll just have to risk having that church tumble in on her."
+
+"It's a shame," sputtered Aunty Jane, "for Marjory to climb all those
+stairs twice a day. It's all very well for the Ancient Order of United
+Workmen to climb two flights with grown-up legs, but it isn't right for
+delicate girls. However, there's no help for it just now, and I can't
+say I blame the child for sliding down the banisters, though of course
+I do scold her for it."
+
+"There are saloons on both sides of that harness shop," said Mrs.
+Bennett, "and six more this side of it, besides a livery stable that is
+always full of loafers and bad language. Mabel has never been allowed
+to go to that part of town alone, and now I have to send a maid with
+her twice a day. But of course she has to go, even if the maid _is_
+more timid than Mabel is."
+
+"By next year," consoled the Board, "we'll have a bigger and better
+schoolhouse than the old one. In the meantime we must all have
+patience."
+
+Except that Mabel, without the others to get her started, was always
+late and that Bettie, without Marjory to coach her on the way, found it
+difficult to learn her lessons, school life went on very much as usual,
+for matters soon settled down as things always do and Lakeville turned
+its attention to fresher problems.
+
+Poor Bettie, indeed, was busier than ever because Miss Rossitor, the
+Domestic Science teacher, whose classes were temporarily housed in the
+Methodist kitchen, discovered that Bettie could draw. Every day or two
+she asked Bettie to remain after school to copy needed illustrations on
+the blackboard. One day, Miss Rossitor demanded a cow. She needed it,
+she explained, to show her class the different cuts of meat.
+
+"A side view of a plain cow," said she.
+
+"I think," said Bettie, reflectively nibbling the fresh stick of chalk,
+"that I could do the outside of that cow, but I know I couldn't get his
+veal cutlets in the proper spot."
+
+"I'll give you a diagram," smiled Miss Rossitor, "for I see very
+plainly, that it wouldn't be safe not to."
+
+"Perhaps Miss Bettie thinks," ventured a belated pupil, a pink-cheeked
+girl with an impertinent nose, "that one cow is a whole butcher shop."
+
+"Well," returned Miss Rossitor, meaningly, "it isn't a great while
+since some other folks were of the same opinion. But, since you are
+now so very much wiser, you may label the parts after Bettie has drawn
+them."
+
+The girl made such a comical face that Bettie's gravity was in sad
+danger, but she accepted the chalk. On the cow's shoulder she printed
+"Pork sausages," on the flank, "Mutton chops," on the backbone,
+"Oysters on the half-shell," on the breast, "buttons."
+
+Bettie looked puzzled and doubtful but Miss Rossitor laughed outright.
+
+"Henrietta Bedford," she said, "you're a complete humbug. If you don't
+settle down to business you won't get home to-night."
+
+"I'm going to walk home with Bettie," returned Henrietta, quickly
+substituting the proper labels. "I can easily write out that luncheon
+menu while she's putting feathers on the cow's tail."
+
+And the new girl did walk home with Bettie, and teased her so merrily
+all the long way that Bettie didn't know whether to like her or not.
+
+Near the Cottage they met Jean, Marjory and Mabel just starting out to
+look for belated Bettie.
+
+"This," said Bettie introducing her new acquaintance, "is
+Henrietta--Henrietta----"
+
+"Plantagenet," assisted Henrietta Bedford, smoothly. "I am really a
+Duchess in disguise, but I've left all my retainers in Ohio and I'm
+simply dying for friends. This is my day for collecting them--I always
+collect friends on Tuesdays. You are indeed fortunate to have happened
+upon me on Tuesday. But, Elizabeth, why not finish your introductions?"
+
+"This," obeyed overwhelmed Bettie, "is Jean, this is Marjory and this
+is Mabel Bennett."
+
+"What! The Damsel of the Dust-chute! I am indeed honored."
+
+Then, as her quick eye traveled over Mabel's plump figure, Henrietta
+added wickedly:
+
+"Was that chute built to fit?"
+
+Mabel flushed angrily.
+
+"It is I," apologized Henrietta, "that should wear those blushes.
+Forgive me, dear Damsel. I have an over-quick tongue and all my
+speeches are followed by repentance. But I have a warm heart and I'm
+really much nicer than I sound. See, I kneel at your insulted feet."
+
+Whereupon this ridiculous girl with the impertinent nose flopped down
+on her knees on the sidewalk and made such comically repentant faces
+that all four giggled merrily.
+
+"Get up, you goose," laughed Mabel. "Your apology is accepted."
+
+"Come along with us," urged Jean. "We're going to have hot chocolate at
+our house. Mother is trying to fatten Marjory, Bettie and me."
+
+"She seems to succeed best with--hum--no personal remarks, please.
+Dear maiden, I will inspect your home from the outside, but I regret
+that I'm strictly forbidden to go _in_side any strange house without
+my grandmother's permission. You'll have to call on me first. She
+is _very_ particular in such matters. But," added Henrietta, with a
+sudden twinkle, "I'm not. So, if you'll kindly rush in and make that
+chocolate, there's no earthly reason why I shouldn't stand just
+outside your gate and drink it."
+
+"Oh," cried Bettie, "is it possible that you're Mrs. Howard Slater's
+new granddaughter?"
+
+"I am," admitted Henrietta, "but I'm not so new as you seem to think.
+She has owned me for fourteen years. Now, hustle up that chocolate.
+I've just remembered that I'm to have a dress tried on at four. It is
+now half-past."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+An Invitation
+
+
+"BETTIE," asked Jean, when the girls were "hustling up" the chocolate
+in Mrs. Mapes' kitchen (the weather was now too cold for Dandelion
+Cottage to be habitable), "where did you find her?"
+
+"At school," replied Bettie. "She comes in for Domestic Science. I've
+seen her about three times, and every time she's had that stiff Miss
+Rossitor laughing. You know who that girl is, don't you?"
+
+"I've heard something," said Marjory, "but I can't just remember what,
+about some girl named Henrietta."
+
+"Well, you've seen Mrs. Howard Slater?"
+
+All the girls had seen Mrs. Slater, the beautifully gowned, decidedly
+aristocratic old lady with abundant but perfectly white hair and
+bright, sparkling black eyes. Mrs. Slater, who seemed a very reserved
+and exclusive person, had spent many summers and even an occasional
+winter in her own handsome home in Lakeville. She lived alone except
+for a number of servants; for both her son and her daughter were
+married. The son lived abroad, no one knew just where; and some four
+years previously Mrs. Slater's daughter, who was Henrietta's mother,
+had died in Rome. Since that event Henrietta had been cared for by her
+uncle's wife; and she had spent a winter in California and another
+in Florida with her grandmother, but this was her first visit to
+Lakeville. It was said that Henrietta's mother had left her little
+daughter a very respectable fortune, that her father, an English
+traveler of note, was also wealthy, and it was known to a certainty
+that Mrs. Howard Slater was a moneyed person.
+
+"Yes," said Marjory, replying to Bettie's question, "we sit behind Mrs.
+Slater in church, and she's the very daintiest old lady that ever
+lived. She's as slim and straight as any young girl. She's perfectly
+lovely to look at, but----"
+
+"Yes, 'but,'" agreed Jean. "She seems very proud and not
+very--get-nearable. I don't know whether I'd like to live with her or
+not; but I know I'd feel terribly set up to own a few relatives that
+_looked_ like that."
+
+"How do you like Henrietta?" asked Mabel.
+
+"I don't know," said Bettie.
+
+"Neither do I," replied Jean.
+
+"It takes time," declared Marjory, "to discover whether you like a
+person or not. And when it's such a different person--truly, she isn't
+a bit like any other girl in this town--it takes longer."
+
+"The chocolate's ready," announced Jean, opening a box of wafers.
+"Here, Bettie, you carry Henrietta's cup and I'll take these. Let's
+_all_ have our chocolate on the sidewalk."
+
+Henrietta, her hands in her pockets, was leaning against the
+fence and humming a tune. Her voice, in speaking, was very nicely
+modulated--which was fortunate, because she used it a great deal. She
+straightened up when the door opened.
+
+"I'm an icicle," said she. "I hope that chocolate's good and hot. My!
+What a nice big cup! And wafers! I'm glad I stayed for your party. I've
+had chocolate in France, in Germany, in Italy, in Switzerland and in
+England, but I do believe this is the very first time I've had any in
+America."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Jean, "that you have to have your first on the
+sidewalk."
+
+"I shan't, next time," promised Henrietta. "I have a beautiful plan.
+I made it while waiting for the chocolate. You're all to come after
+school to-morrow and pay me a formal call. Then I'll return it. After
+that, I suspect I shall be allowed to run in. But first you'll have to
+call, formally."
+
+"A formal call!" gasped Bettie.
+
+"We never made a formal call in all our lives," objected Jean.
+
+"They're dreadful," agreed Henrietta, "but in this case you'll really
+have to do it. I've planned it all nicely. In the first place, you must
+hand your cards to the butler----"
+
+"Cards!" gasped Jean and Bettie.
+
+"Cards!" snorted Mabel, flushing indignantly. "We haven't a card to our
+names!"
+
+"You _must_ have them," declared Henrietta, firmly, "or Simmons may
+consider you suspicious characters. Simmons is a very lofty person.
+You can write some, you know, because Simmons holds his chin so high
+that it interferes with the view, so he'll never know what's on them.
+Then you must be very polite to Grandmother and say 'Yes, ma'am,'
+'No, ma'am,' 'Thank you, ma'am'--and not very much else. You've seen
+Grandmother, of course? Then you know how very formal and stiff she
+looks. Well, _you_ must be like that, too."
+
+"I'll try," said Mabel, "but it'll be pretty hard work."
+
+"Be sure to wear gloves," cautioned Henrietta. "Grandmother is
+exceedingly particular about shoes and gloves. I know it's a lot of
+trouble, but you'll find it pays; for after you've beaten down the icy
+barrier that surrounds me, you'll find me quite a comfortable person.
+And _do_ come just as early as you can--I'm really desperately lonely."
+
+This was a different Henrietta from the merry one that Bettie had
+encountered. That other Henrietta had made her laugh. This one, with
+the wistful, sorrowful countenance and the four words "I'm really
+desperately lonely," was almost moving her to tears.
+
+"You'll surely come," pleaded Henrietta.
+
+"We'll come," promised Bettie, "cards and all."
+
+"_Au revoir_," said Henrietta, carefully balancing her cup on the top
+rail of the fence. "I must run along now to try on my clothes."
+
+"Was that French?" queried Mabel, gazing after the departing figure.
+
+"I think so," replied Jean.
+
+"She can certainly talk English fast enough," said Marjory. "I suppose
+just one language _isn't_ enough for anybody that chatters like that."
+
+"Do you think," asked Bettie, "she meant all that about cards and
+gloves and butlers? She's so full of fun most of the time that I don't
+exactly know whether to believe her or not."
+
+"I think she did," said Marjory. "You see, I sit behind Mrs. Slater in
+church--and I'm thankful that it's behind."
+
+"Perhaps that's the reason," ventured Bettie, "that nobody'll rent the
+three pews in front of her. Father says it's hard to even give them
+away. No one likes to sit in them."
+
+"That's it," agreed Marjory. "One would have to be sure that her back
+hair was absolutely perfect to be at all comfortable in front of Mrs.
+Slater."
+
+"And that," groaned discouraged Mabel, "is the sort of person I'm to
+make my first formal call on."
+
+"You'd better take your bath to-night," advised Jean, "and lay out all
+your very best clothes. And don't forget to polish your shoes."
+
+"Father has some blank cards," said Bettie, "and he writes beautifully.
+I'll get him to do cards for all of us."
+
+"I think," said Marjory, with a puzzled air, "that we ought to take
+five or six apiece. I know Aunty Jane leaves a whole lot at one house,
+sometimes."
+
+"No," corrected Jean, "we need just two. One for Mrs. Slater and one
+for Henrietta. My aunt, Mrs. Halliday, always gets two whenever her
+sister-in-law is visiting there."
+
+"There are holes in my best gloves," mourned Bettie. "They came in a
+missionary box, and missionary gloves are never very good even to
+start with. Besides, Dick wore them first--I never had a _new_ pair of
+kid gloves."
+
+"Never mind," said always generous Mabel. "I must have about six pairs
+and I've never had any of the things on. I know I've outgrown some of
+them. Your hands are lots smaller than mine. Come over and I'll fix you
+out--Mother said we'd have to give them to somebody and I guess you're
+just exactly the right somebody. I hate the thing myself."
+
+"Goody!" rejoiced Bettie.
+
+"I wish," said Jean, "that my shoes were newer, but I'll get the boys
+to black 'em."
+
+"I can't help _you_ out," laughed Mabel. "My shoes are short and fat
+and yours are long and slim."
+
+"A coat of Wallace's blacking will be all that's needed, thank you,
+Mabel. There's nothing like having brothers when it comes to blacking
+shoes."
+
+"We'll have to get up a little earlier to-morrow morning," said Marjory.
+
+"Mercy!" exclaimed Jean, "are you leaving all those chocolate cups on
+the fence for _me_ to carry in?"
+
+"Of course not," said obliging Bettie, seizing two. "Come on, you lazy
+people."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+Obeying Instructions
+
+
+THE four girls were wonderfully excited all the next day. They were
+restless in school and fidgety at home.
+
+"A body would think," scoffed Aunty Jane, at noon, "that you were going
+to your own wedding. Don't worry so. I'll have everything ready for you
+to put on the moment you get out of school."
+
+"Oh, thank you," breathed Marjory, fervently. "That'll help a lot; but
+I do hope that Bettie's father will remember to do those cards. And,
+Aunty Jane, _could_ you lend me a perfectly inkless hankerchief?"
+
+"Jumping January!" growled Wallace Mapes, Jean's older brother. "That
+makes nineteen times, Jean, that you've reminded me of those miserable
+shoes. I'll black them when I've finished lunch. I'm not going to rush
+off in the middle of my oyster soup to black _any_body's best shoes."
+
+"Is it a reception?" asked Roger.
+
+"No," replied Wallace, "just a formal call on Henrietta Bedford."
+
+"She's in my French class," said Roger. "And kippered snakes! You ought
+to hear her recite. She talks up and down and all around poor little
+Miss McGinnis, whose French was made right here in Lakeville. It's a
+daily picnic."
+
+"You won't forget my shoes, will you?" reminded anxious Jean.
+
+"I'd like to know how I _could_," demanded Wallace, feelingly.
+
+Although Mabel had taken a most complete bath the night before, she
+spent the noon-hour taking another. She put on her best stockings and
+shoes, but looked doubtfully at her Sunday suit.
+
+"If I have to do my language in ink," reflected she, "it'll be all up
+with my clothes. I'll just have to change after school."
+
+The girls were out by half-past three. Fortunately, Miss Rossitor
+needed no more cows that afternoon, so Bettie was home in good season.
+All four dressed speedily. Three of them got into their gloves
+unassisted; but Jean, Marjory and Bettie found plump, impatient Mabel
+seated on the piano stool with her mother working over one hand, her
+perspiring father over the other. Several other gloves that had proved
+too small were scattered on the floor.
+
+"You needn't think," said Mabel, greeting her friends with an
+expressive grimace, "that _I_ ever picked out these lemon-colored
+frights. Somebody sent 'em for Christmas. None of the pretty ones were
+big enough--I've tried four pairs."
+
+"Neither are these," returned Mrs. Bennett, "and the color certainly
+is outrageous, but it's Hobson's choice. And just remember, Mabel, if
+you touch a single door-knob they'll be black before you get there.
+And don't put your hands in your pockets. And _please_ don't rub them
+along the fences. There! Mine's on as far as it will go."
+
+[Illustration: THE DECIDEDLY DEPRESSED FOUR STARTED DOWN THE STREET.]
+
+"I guess you'd better finish this one," said Dr. Bennett, abandoning
+his task. "I rather tackle a case of smallpox than wrestle with another
+job like that. She'd look much better in mittens."
+
+"Mittens!" snubbed Mabel. "You can't make formal calls in mittens! Now,
+Somebody, please put me into my jacket and hat, if I'm not to touch
+anything."
+
+The decidedly depressed four, in their Sunday best, started down the
+street. Mabel's gloves, owing to their brilliant color, were certainly
+conspicuous, and unconsciously she made them more so by the careful and
+rigid manner in which she carried them. It was plain that she had them
+very much on her mind. And when her hat tilted forward over one eye she
+left it there rather than risk damaging those immaculate lemon-hued
+gloves.
+
+"Take my muff," implored Marjory. "That yellow splendor lights up
+the whole street."
+
+"No, siree," declined Mabel. "If Mrs. Slater wants gloves she's going
+to have 'em. Do you think I'm going to suffer like this and not have
+'em _show_?"
+
+So Mabel, a swollen, imprisoned but gorgeous hand dangling at each
+side, a big navy-blue hat flopping over one eye, strutted muffless down
+the street.
+
+"That's the house," announced Jean, as they turned the corner. "That
+big one with the covered driveway."
+
+"Ugh!" shuddered Marjory, "it gives me chills to think of ringing such
+a wealthy doorbell. Are the cards safe, Bettie? My! I hope you haven't
+lost them."
+
+"In my pocket in an envelope," assured Bettie.
+
+"Can you see any white?" queried Jean, nervously. "I think my top
+petticoat has broken loose."
+
+"It seems all right," said Marjory, stooping to test it with little
+sharp jerks. "Firm as the Rock of Gibraltar."
+
+"It won't be if you pull like that," objected Jean.
+
+"Somebody open the gate," requested Mabel. "I can't touch things."
+
+"Everybody stand up straight," commanded Marjory. "We must look our
+best when we go up the walk."
+
+"I wish I hadn't come," demurred Bettie, hanging back, diffidently.
+"Let's wait till it's darker."
+
+"No," asserted Jean. "We'd better get it over."
+
+"Yes," agreed Mabel, "I don't want to wear these gloves a minute longer
+than I have to."
+
+"All right," sighed Bettie, despondently, "but you go first, Jean."
+
+They had waited on the imposing doorstep for a long five minutes when
+it occurred to Marjory to ask if any one had pushed the bell.
+
+"No," replied Jean, with a surprised air. "I thought _you_ had."
+
+"And I," said Bettie, "supposed that Mabel had."
+
+"How could I," demanded Mabel, hotly, "in these gloves?"
+
+And then, all four began to giggle. Never before had such an
+inopportune fit of helpless, hysterical giggling seized the Cottagers.
+No one could stop. Tears rolled down Mabel's plump cheeks, and,
+fettered by her lemon-colored gloves, she had to let them roll, until
+Bettie wiped them away. And that set them all off again. In the midst
+of it Marjory's sharp elbow inadvertently struck the push-bell and
+Simmons, the imposing, much-dreaded butler, opened the door. Instantly
+the giggling ceased. Four exceedingly solemn little girls filed
+into the big hall. Bettie groped nervously for her pocket, found it
+and endeavored to extract the cards. But the large, stiff envelope
+stuck and, for a long, embarrassing moment, Bettie fumbled in vain;
+while the butler, his chin "very high and scornful" as Marjory said
+afterwards, waited.
+
+At last the cards were out. Diffident Bettie dropped them, envelope and
+all, on the extended plate; but Jean deftly seized the envelope and
+shook out the cards. Next followed a most unhappy moment. Simmons was
+evidently expecting them to do _something_, they hadn't the remotest
+idea what.
+
+Then, to their great relief, there was a sudden "swish" of silken
+skirts, a flash of scarlet and lively Henrietta, who had slid down the
+broad banister, was greeting them warmly.
+
+"Grandmother's out," said she. "Come up to my room and have a real
+visit before she gets back. Simmons, just toddle down to the lower
+regions for some fruit and anything else you can find; send them up to
+my room."
+
+Something very like a smile flitted across Simmons's wooden
+countenance. Perhaps it amused him to be ordered to "toddle."
+
+"Do you like my new gown?" queried Henrietta, leading the way upstairs
+and flirting her accordion-pleated skirts in graceful fashion. "It's my
+dinner dress. I have to dress for dinner every night--such a fuss for
+just two of us. Come in here--this is my sitting-room."
+
+"How very odd," said Jean, finding her voice at last.
+
+"Isn't it?" laughed Henrietta, shaking her brown curls. She wore them
+tied back with two enormous black bows. "Grandmother's a mixture
+of everything, you know--French, English, New York Dutch--and her
+furniture shows it. Lots of it came from Europe and Father picked up
+things in India and China--such a jolly dad as he is. That's why this
+place is such a jumble."
+
+"I like it," declared Jean. "It looks interesting--as if there were
+lovely stories in it."
+
+"There are," said Henrietta, drawing aside a heavy, silken curtain,
+"and I keep making new ones to fit. This is my bedroom, this next one
+is my dressing-room and this is my bath."
+
+"Ugh!" shuddered Mabel, "do you take shower baths?"
+
+"Every morning," laughed Henrietta.
+
+"What a lovely dressing table!" exclaimed Bettie, peering into the oval
+mirror and smiling into her own dark eyes. "I never saw such pretty
+things, even in a catalogue."
+
+"It's French," said Henrietta, "but all those little jeweled boxes came
+from Calcutta--Father just loves to buy little boxes with inlaid tops.
+Oh, here's Greta, with things to eat." Henrietta hastily swept her
+belongings from a dainty little table and the smiling maid deposited
+the heavy tray.
+
+"Tangerines, nuts, figs and sponge cake," chattered Henrietta. "That's
+very nice, Greta. Help yourselves to chairs, girls. Here's a tabouret
+for you, little Marjory. Catch, Jean," and the merry little hostess
+tossed a golden tangerine to Jean. "Oh, wait," she added. "You mustn't
+take off your gloves or get them soiled, because Grandmother always
+gets in about this time, and you know you must be very formal with
+Grandmother. I'll peel them for you. Now draw up closer. You mustn't
+spot your gloves, so I'll feed you. First, a bit of sponge cake all
+around. Now an almond. Now the orange. Oh, I'm forgetting myself! Now
+more sponge cake."
+
+"This is fine," said Bettie. "I'm always hungry after school."
+
+"So am I," said Jean.
+
+"If I'd s'posed," said Mabel, "that formal calls were like this, I'd
+have started sooner."
+
+"Are you a different person every time anybody sees you?" asked Bettie,
+curiously.
+
+"Why?" queried Henrietta.
+
+"Because," explained Bettie, "you seem so very changeable. You're a
+mischief in school, yesterday you seemed almost sad and to-day you're
+so polite."
+
+"Oh, _thank_ you," said Henrietta, rising to sweep a deep and very much
+exaggerated courtesy. "Nobody _ever_ before said that I was polite."
+
+"Miss Henrietta," said Greta, tapping at the door, "the carriage has
+just turned the corner."
+
+"Follow me," said Henrietta, with an instant change of tone, as she
+hurriedly brushed the crumbs from her lap and pulled Mabel's jacket
+into place. "Follow me and don't make a sound. It's time to be formal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+With Henrietta
+
+
+THROUGH a long corridor, around several corners and down two flights
+of back stairs, the formal callers, their hearts in their throats,
+followed Henrietta, who finally paused at the basement door.
+
+"There," said Henrietta, mysteriously, "you're safe at last. Now
+listen. You must slip out through the alley, walk slowly round the
+block, approach the house with dignity, ring the doorbell and present
+your cards to Simmons."
+
+"We--we can't," faltered Bettie. "He has them _now_."
+
+"I'll poke them out through the letter slot," laughed resourceful
+Henrietta. "You're not going to escape that formal call. Wait, your
+hat's over one ear, Mabel. There now, you're perfectly lovely. Now
+don't forget to pick up the cards."
+
+Entirely bewildered by Henrietta's pranks, the conventional visitors
+walked out through the alley, strolled round the block and nervously
+ascended the front steps. There, sure enough, were eight white cards
+popping out through the letter slot.
+
+"My goodness!" gasped Jean, "they're not _our_ cards. This one says
+'Mrs. Francis Patterson.'"
+
+"And this," said Marjory, picking up another, "says 'John D. Thomas,
+sole agent for Todd's shoes.'"
+
+"According to mine," giggled Bettie, "I'm Miss Ethel Louise Cartwright.
+What's on yours, Mabel?"
+
+"'With love from Father,'" groaned Mabel.
+
+"What in the world shall we do?" queried Jean, gathering up the
+remaining cards. "Not one of them will fit _us_."
+
+"Give them to Simmons in a bunch," suggested Marjory. "He didn't look
+at the last lot, so perhaps he won't now."
+
+So the girls, gathering what courage they could, touched the bell,
+presented their odd assortment of cards to Simmons--who almost
+succeeded in not looking astonished at seeing the callers again so
+soon--and were ushered into the reception room.
+
+Such a sedate Henrietta advanced to meet them! Such a dignified, but
+charming old lady rose to shake hands all around! Such a sheepish
+quartette of visitors perched on the extreme edge of the nearest four
+chairs! Mrs. Slater smiled encouragingly; but Henrietta, from her post
+behind her grandmother's chair, displayed every sign of abject terror.
+
+"We--we came to call," faltered Jean.
+
+"That was pleasant," responded Mrs. Slater. "You are just in time to
+have some tea. Midge, will you please ring for Greta? I'm very glad you
+came, for I wanted my granddaughter to meet some of the young people."
+
+Mrs. Slater, her slender, beringed fingers moving daintily among the
+cups, made the tea. Henrietta, in absolute silence and much subdued in
+manner, passed the cups, the delicate sandwiches and the little frosted
+tea cakes.
+
+"Midge," demanded Mrs. Slater, turning suddenly to her granddaughter,
+"what in the world is the matter with you? You haven't said a word for
+fifteen minutes. I never knew you to be still for so long a time."
+
+"It's my conscience," groaned Henrietta, dolefully. "I'm in another
+scrape."
+
+"What have you done now?" asked Mrs. Slater, who seemed very much less
+terrifying than the girls had expected to find her. "Confession is good
+for the soul, my dear."
+
+Henrietta's infectious laugh gurgled out suddenly and merrily.
+
+"I've frightened four girls almost into spasms," said she. "You see,
+Grannie, I told them that they'd _have_ to call formally if they wanted
+me to visit them. When they came you were out, so I took them upstairs,
+gave them things to eat and a jolly good time, generally. Then, just
+for a joke, I had Greta tell me when you were coming and I led them
+carefully down the back way, made them go round the block and do it all
+over again, cards and all. You see, Grannie, they don't know you. They
+haven't seen anything but your husk; and I had them scared blue; didn't
+I, girls?"
+
+"Midge, you shouldn't have done it," reproved Mrs. Slater, whose black
+eyes, however, were sparkling with only half-suppressed merriment.
+"That wasn't quite a courteous way to treat your guests!"
+
+"Forgive me," pleaded Henrietta, flopping down on her knees and looking
+the very picture of penitence. "Walk on me, Jean. Wipe your shoes on
+me, Bettie. I grovel at your feet--at _every_body's feet."
+
+"Don't grovel too hard in that dress," warned Mrs. Slater.
+
+"Am I forgiven?" implored Henrietta, gathering up her ruffles with
+elaborate care.
+
+The girls were not certain. Their pride had been injured and they eyed
+Henrietta doubtfully.
+
+"When you've known Midge as long as I have," said Mrs. Slater, "you'll
+discover that she is really too tender-hearted to hurt a fly. But
+you'll also discover that she never misses an opportunity to play
+pranks on every soul she loves. It's a symbol of her favor. She will
+never tell you an untruth, she is too honorable to practise downright
+deceit; but depend on it, girls, she will fool you until you won't
+believe your own ears. And she's always sorry, afterwards. She spends
+half her time apologizing."
+
+"Ah, _do_ forgive," pleaded extravagant Henrietta, suddenly extending
+imploring hands. "I mean it, truly. It _wasn't_ nice of me."
+
+Jean, stooping suddenly, kissed the upturned lips.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, genuinely surprised, "I didn't know I was going
+to do that."
+
+"She gets around everybody," said Mrs. Slater, "and the worst of it is
+she's so good and so naughty that you'll never know whether you like
+her or not."
+
+"Why, Grannie!" exclaimed Henrietta, "don't _you_ know?"
+
+"I know that I like you," said the old lady, smiling fondly at pretty,
+whimsical Henrietta, "but you know very well that I also regard you
+with strong disapproval. I consider you a very faulty young person."
+
+"You're a dear Grannie," breathed Henrietta, kissing the old lady's
+delicate hand, "but I'm quite sure you're spoiling me; isn't she,
+Bettie?"
+
+"Were you like Henrietta," queried Jean, "when you were young?"
+
+"My dear, you've found me out," laughed Mrs. Slater. "I was just such
+a piece of impishness; but my father was very severe, and I think I
+began earlier to restrain my prankishness. Midge, unfortunately, has
+a lenient father and a doting grandmother. Between them she is having
+pretty much her own way."
+
+"I'll be good," promised Henrietta, comically, "in spite of them; but
+you see, girls, with such a pair of relatives dogging my footsteps,
+it's uphill work."
+
+After a little more conversation, the girls rose to depart. Mrs. Slater
+begged them to come again. She said that she enjoyed young people. Then
+the big front door was closed behind them and the dreaded visit was
+over.
+
+"So," said Marjory, "_that's_ what Mrs. Slater is like inside."
+
+Mabel, unable to bear them longer, was recklessly peeling off her
+lemon-colored gloves.
+
+"She's lovely, inside and out," declared Bettie, "but I never dreamed
+that she was like _that_."
+
+"She wouldn't have cared if I _had_ gone without gloves," mourned
+aggrieved Mabel. "I'd like to pay Henrietta back for _that_."
+
+"Girls," asked Marjory, "do you _like_ Henrietta?"
+
+"I adore her," declared Jean.
+
+"I _think_ I like her," said Bettie.
+
+"I know _I_ don't," asserted Mabel, waving her throbbing hands in the
+evening breeze to cool them.
+
+"I do and I don't," said Marjory. "I admire her, but she makes me
+uncomfortable. I feel as if she were just playing with me."
+
+"She seems more than fourteen," murmured Jean, dreamily.
+
+"That's because she's traveled so much," explained Bettie.
+
+"She's like the big opal in Mother's ring," mused imaginative Jean.
+"One moment all warm and sparkly, the next, all cold and quiet."
+
+"And you never know," supplemented Marjory, "which way it's going to
+be."
+
+"I like folks that are downright bad or good," said Mabel, crossly.
+"Burglars ought to be burglars and ministers ought to be ministers and
+they all ought to be marked so you can tell 'em apart; else, how are
+you going to?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+The Call Returned
+
+
+THE following Saturday, the girls carried their Christmas sewing to
+Jean's. The sewing had not reached a very exciting stage, so tongues
+moved faster than fingers. Mabel was still working on a shoe-bag for
+her father but, owing to some misadventure, one of the two compartments
+was several sizes larger than the other. Mabel regarded this difference
+with disapproval until comforting Jean came to the rescue.
+
+"Perhaps," suggested Jean, "there's a difference in the size of your
+father's feet."
+
+"Oh, there is," cried Mabel, gleefully. "His right shoe is always
+tighter than the left."
+
+"But," objected quick-witted Marjory, "it isn't his feet that are going
+into that bag. It's his shoes, and they're the same size."
+
+"Oh," groaned Mabel, settling into a disconsolate heap, "that's so."
+
+"Never mind," said Bettie. "Give me the bag, and I'll fix those
+pockets."
+
+Bettie was embroidering an elaborate pincushion for her mother, but she
+stopped so often to help the others that there seemed small hope of its
+ever getting finished. Marjory, who was making one just like it for her
+Aunty Jane, was progressing much more rapidly.
+
+Jean, rummaging in her work-bag, was trying to decide which of four
+partly completed articles to sew on when a carriage stopped at Mrs.
+Mapes's gate.
+
+"It's a caller," said Jean. "We'll have to vacate. Here, scurry into
+the dining-room with all your stuff. I'll answer the bell; and you,
+Bettie, remind Mother to take off her apron--she's apt to forget it."
+
+Jean, stopping long enough to twitch the chairs into place, went primly
+to the door.
+
+"Good-morning," said a familiar voice, "I've come to return your
+visit. It's all right, James. You needn't wait."
+
+"Come back, girls," called Jean, when she had ushered the caller in.
+"It's Henrietta."
+
+"What luck!" cried Henrietta, pulling off her gloves. "Now I can
+make a long, long call instead of four short ones. What are you
+doing--Christmas presents? Give me a spool of fine white thread, some
+pins and a sofa pillow. I'm going to make one, too."
+
+"Take off your things," said Jean, smilingly.
+
+Henrietta wriggled out of her jacket and tossed her hat on the couch.
+
+"What is it going to be?" asked Bettie, watching the merry visitor's
+deft fingers fly to and fro.
+
+"Lace," returned Henrietta. "I learned to make it in France. Of course
+these aren't the right materials for very fine lace, but I can make an
+edge for a pincushion or a mat. I like to do things with my fingers."
+
+"Can you draw?" asked Bettie.
+
+"A little," returned Henrietta, modestly, "but you mustn't tell Miss
+Rossitor, or she'll have _me_ doing cows and pigs and roosters."
+
+"What grade do you belong in?" asked Jean.
+
+"None," laughed the visitor, arranging the pins in what looked like
+a very intricate pattern. "I couldn't be graded. I'm having Domestic
+Science under the Methodist church, Senior Latin in the Council
+Chamber, Post-graduate French in a cloak-room off the A. O. U. W. Hall,
+Sophomore American History with the Baptists, and I'm doing mathematics
+in the kindergarten--or somewhere down there. I had to go back to the
+very beginning. If I ever tell you anything with numbers in it don't
+believe it. I don't know six from six hundred. But I'm doing lessons in
+five different buildings and getting lots of exercise besides. That's
+doing pretty well for my first year in school."
+
+"Your first year!" cried Marjory. "Surely you're fooling!"
+
+"Not this time," assured Henrietta. "I've had governesses and tutors
+ever since I could think, but this is truly my first school year. And
+it's great fun. But if I stay in America, I'm to go to boarding school,
+Grandmother says. I've always wanted to, and Grannie thinks it will be
+good for me to be with other girls. You see, I've always lived with
+grown folks, so I need to renew my youth."
+
+"Mother's been reading the boarding-school advertisements in the
+magazines lately," said Mabel. "I heard her read some of them aloud to
+Father. But of course they couldn't have been thinking about _me_. But
+they sounded interesting."
+
+"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "they had read all the stories and those
+boarding schools were all they had left to read."
+
+"I guess so," said Mabel.
+
+"Aunt Jane reads them, too," added Marjory. "There's some money that is
+to be used for my education and for nothing else. When I've finished
+with High School I'm to go to College."
+
+"Oh well," laughed, Jean, lightly, "you're safe for another five years."
+
+"_I_'m not," returned Henrietta. "I'm going next September, and if
+Grandmother had known how the schools were going to be you wouldn't be
+having the pleasure of my company now. She says I'm getting thin in the
+pursuit of knowledge--it's too scattered, in Lakeville. That's why she
+made me ride to-day."
+
+"Look!" cried Mabel, her eyes bulging with astonishment. "She's really
+making lace!"
+
+"It's for you," said Henrietta, flashing a bright glance at
+Mabel. "It's an apology, Mam'selle, for my past--and perhaps my
+future--misdeeds."
+
+"I _said_ I didn't like you," blurted honest Mabel, "but I do."
+
+"Don't depend on me," sighed Henrietta. "I don't wear well. You'll find
+the real me rubbing through in spots. Granny says I'm an imp that came
+in one of Dad's Hindoo boxes."
+
+"Why does your grandmother call you Midge?" asked Bettie.
+
+"Because she doesn't like Henrietta. You see, I have five names--they
+do that sort of thing on the other side--and I take turns with them.
+When I find out which one suits me best, I'll choose that one for
+keeps."
+
+"What are they?" demanded Mabel.
+
+"Henrietta Constance Louise Frederika Francesca--you see, there isn't
+a really suitable name in the lot. But when you have five quarrelsome
+aunts, as Father had, you have to please all or none of them by giving
+your poor helpless baby all their horrid names. Call me Sallie--I've
+_always_ wanted to be Sallie."
+
+"Think of anybody," laughed Jean, "with as many names as that wanting a
+new one."
+
+"Where's that baby you adopted?" asked Henrietta, abruptly changing the
+subject. "Didn't one of you adopt a baby or something like that?"
+
+"It was Mabel," replied Marjory. "The rest of us are pretty good, but
+Mabel's sort of thoughtless about borrowing things. She just happened
+to borrow an unreturnable baby, one day."
+
+"Where is it now?"
+
+"At Mr. Black's. Her name is Rosa Marie."
+
+"I'd like to see her," said Henrietta, carefully moving a pin.
+
+"Stay to luncheon," urged Jean. "Father's away, so there'll be plenty
+of room. Afterwards we can all pay a visit to Rosa Marie."
+
+"I'm afraid," said Marjory, "she's getting to be a burden to Mrs.
+Crane."
+
+"Yes," agreed Bettie, "but it isn't Rosa Marie's fault. Mrs. Crane has
+been reading a lot of books about bringing up children--you know she
+never had any. Before she discovered how many things _might_ happen
+to a baby she was quite comfortable; but now she's always certain that
+Rosa Marie is coming down with something."
+
+"And she doesn't seem very bright," mourned Jean.
+
+"Who--Mrs. Crane?"
+
+"No, Rosa Marie. You see, we don't know exactly how old she is--Mabel
+didn't think to ask--but she seems big enough to be lots smarter than
+she is. We're rather disappointed in her."
+
+"I'm not," protested Mabel, loyally. "She's just slow because she
+hasn't any little brothers and sisters. She's a _dear_ child."
+
+"Cheer up, Mabel," soothed Henrietta. "As long as she's beautiful she
+doesn't need to be bright."
+
+At this, Marjory looked at Jean, then at Bettie, and smiled an odd,
+significant smile. Here was a chance to get even with Henrietta; and,
+unconsciously, Mabel helped.
+
+"She's beautiful to me," said Mabel, "and she's ever so cunning."
+
+"What color are her eyes?"
+
+"Dark," said Marjory. "Darker than yours."
+
+"Then she's a brunette?"
+
+"Ye-es," said Marjory, as if considering the question. "She's darker,
+at least, than I am."
+
+"We all are," said Henrietta, with an admiring glance at Marjory's
+golden locks. "We seem to shade down gradually. Mabel comes next, then
+Jean, then Bettie; I'm the darkest, because Bettie's eyes are like
+brown velvet, but mine are black, like bits of hard coal. Where does
+Rosa Marie come in?"
+
+"I think," said Marjory, with an air of pondering deeply, "that Rosa
+Marie is almost, if not quite, as dark as you; even darker, perhaps.
+But her hair isn't as curly."
+
+"Dear little soul," breathed Henrietta, tenderly. "I've a tremendous
+liking for babies, but they're pretty scarce at our house. But there
+was one in England that was--Oh, if I could just see that English baby
+_now_! Wouldn't I just hug her!"
+
+Henrietta's eyes were unwontedly tender, her expression unusually sweet.
+
+"You're not a bit like you've been any of the other times," observed
+Bettie. "I like you a lot better when you're like this."
+
+"I'm not myself to-day," twinkled Henrietta. "I'm Sallie--just plain
+Sallie. But beware of me when I'm Frederika, the Disguised Duchess.
+_That's_ when I'm not to be trusted."
+
+"I think," said Jean, listening to some faraway sound, "that lunch is
+about ready."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Henrietta. "The sooner it's over, the sooner I can
+hug that darling baby. It's months since I've held one in my arms--the
+dear little body."
+
+"You'll find----" began Mabel; but the other three promptly headed her
+off before she had time to explain that Rosa Marie was a pretty big
+armful.
+
+"It's time to go home," exclaimed Marjory and Bettie, in chorus. "Come
+on, Mabel."
+
+"If you'll excuse me," said Jean, speaking directly to Mabel, "I'll go
+set a place for Henrietta. Sorry I can't ask everybody to stay; but
+come back at two o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Getting Even
+
+
+LUNCHEON at Jean's that day proved a lively affair, for both boys were
+home; Henrietta chatted as frankly and as merrily as if she had known
+them all her life. Wallace, who was shy, squirmed uneasily at first and
+kept his eyes on his plate; but Roger, who had encountered the visitor
+in his French class, was able to respond to her friendly chatter.
+
+"I like boys," asserted Henrietta, frankly, "but I haven't any
+belonging to me but one and he's a horrid muff--sixteen and a regular
+baby. He's my cousin."
+
+"I thought you liked babies," laughed Jean.
+
+"I do, but not that kind. He's been molly-coddled until it makes you
+sick to look at him."
+
+"Trot him out," offered Roger. "I'll give him an antidote."
+
+"He's in England," said Henrietta, "and I hope he'll stay there. He
+hasn't any idea of doing anything for himself; he's always talking
+about what he'll do when somebody else does such and such a thing for
+him."
+
+"You mean," said Roger, "he hasn't any American independence."
+
+"That's it," agreed Henrietta. "He'd have made a nice pink-and-white
+girl, but he's no use at all as a boy."
+
+"How dark it's getting," said Jean. "I can hardly see my plate."
+
+"I think," prophesied Wallace, breaking his long silence, "that it's
+going to snow. The sky's been a little thick for three days; when it
+comes we'll get a lot."
+
+"Goody!" cried Henrietta, "I've never seen a real Lake Superior
+snowstorm and I want to. So far all the snow we've had has come in the
+night. I want to _see_ it snow."
+
+"You wouldn't," growled Wallace, "if you had to shovel several tons of
+it off your sidewalk."
+
+"Will it snow very soon?" queried Henrietta, eagerly.
+
+"Probably not before dark," returned Wallace, turning to glance at the
+dull sky. "It's only getting ready."
+
+Enthusiastic Henrietta, that odd mixture of extreme youth and premature
+age, was all impatience to see Rosa Marie. She had telephoned her
+grandmother to ask permission to spend the day with her new friends,
+and now she was eager to add Rosa Marie to the list. It was easy to see
+that she was expecting to behold something very choice in the line of
+babies. Jean was tempted to undeceive her, but loyalty to Marjory kept
+her silent.
+
+"A baby," breathed Henrietta, rapturously, "is the loveliest thing
+in all the world. _Isn't_ it most two o'clock? Wait, I'll look at my
+watch--Mercy! I forgot to wind it!"
+
+"Hark!" said Jean, "I think I hear the girls. Yes, I do."
+
+"Get on your things," commanded Marjory, opening the door. "Bettie
+stopped to feed the cat, sew a button on Dick, wash Peter's face, tie
+up her father's finger and hook her mother's dress, but she's here at
+last and we're to pick up Mabel on the way because Dr. Bennett called
+her back to wash her face."
+
+"We mustn't stay too long," warned Jean, glancing at the dull sky. "It
+looks as if it would get dark early."
+
+Mrs. Crane was glad to see her visitors and appeared delighted to add a
+new girl to her collection of youthful friends.
+
+"You and Jean are just of a size," said she.
+
+"And about the same age," added Bettie, who had always regretted the
+two years' difference in her age and Jean's. "I wish _I_ were as old as
+that."
+
+"Aren't you afraid," blundered well-meaning Mrs. Crane, turning to
+Bettie, "that she'll cut you out? You and Jean have always been as
+thick as thieves. Don't you let this pretty Henrietta steal your Jean
+away from you."
+
+Bettie, dear little unselfish soul, had hitherto been conscious of
+no such fear, but now her big brown eyes were troubled. This new
+possibility was alarming.
+
+"We'd like to see Rosa Marie," said Marjory. "Is she well?"
+
+"She has a bad cold," returned Mrs. Crane, shaking her head,
+sorrowfully. "I've just been looking through my books, and in the very
+first one I found more than twenty-five fatal diseases that begin with
+a bad cold."
+
+"Didn't you find _any_ that folks ever get over?" suggested Jean,
+comfortingly.
+
+"Why, yes," replied Mrs. Crane, brightening. "I've known of folks
+pulling through at least twenty-four of them. But there's one thing.
+You won't like Rosa Marie's clothes to-day. They're--they're sort of
+an accident."
+
+"An accident?" questioned Bettie. "What happened?"
+
+"Why, you see, I ordered her a ready-made dress out of a catalogue. It
+sounded very promising but--Well, it's _warm_, but I guess that's about
+all you can say for it. I'll take you to the nursery; I have to keep
+her out of drafts."
+
+Rosa Marie, well and becomingly clad, would hardly have captured a
+prize in a beauty show, even with very little competition. Poor little
+Rosa Marie, suffering with a severe cold, appeared a most unlovable
+object. Her eyes were dull and all but invisible, her nose and lips
+were red and swollen and her wide mouth seemed even larger than usual.
+The catalogue dress was more than an accident; it was an out and out
+calamity. Its gorgeous red and green plaid was marked off like a city
+map in regular squares with a startling stripe of yellow. Moreover,
+the alarming garment was a distressingly tight fit.
+
+"It looked," sighed Mrs. Crane, apologetically, "as pretty as you
+please in that book; but of course nobody would _think_ of buying such
+goods as that _outside_ a catalogue. But Rosa Marie liked it."
+
+After the first glance, however, the Cottagers did not look at Rosa
+Marie or the hideous plaid. They gazed instead at Henrietta's speaking
+countenance. Having led their new friend to expect something entirely
+different in the way of infantile charms, they wanted to enjoy her
+surprise; but strangely enough they did not. It was evident that
+something was wrong with their plan.
+
+The bright, expectant look faded suddenly from the sparkling black
+eyes. All the animation fled swiftly from the girlish countenance. Two
+large tears rolled down Henrietta's cheeks.
+
+"Oh," she mourned, "I was _so_ lonely for a real, dear little baby."
+
+"Dear me," sighed penitent Jean, "we thought you'd enjoy the joke. We
+saw at once that you supposed that Rosa Marie was an ordinary child--a
+nice little pink and white creature in long clothes. It seemed such a
+good chance to get even that we----"
+
+"It was my fault," apologized Marjory. "I _tried_ to fool you. I never
+thought you'd _care_."
+
+"I'm sorry," said offended Mabel, stiffly, "that you don't like Rosa
+Marie. She's much more interesting than a common baby, and I think,
+when I picked her out----"
+
+"It isn't that," said Henrietta, smiling through her tears. "You see,
+I had a baby cousin in England that I just hated to leave--Oh, the
+sweetest, daintiest little-girl baby--and she'll be all grown up and
+gone before I ever see her again. I simply adored that baby."
+
+"Never mind," soothed Bettie, generously. "We've any number of real
+babies at our house and three of them are small enough to cuddle. And
+even the littlest one is big enough to be played with."
+
+"What an accommodating family," said Henrietta, wiping her eyes. "I
+guess they'll make up for this remarkable infant."
+
+"Rosa Marie certainly isn't looking her best to-day," admitted Jean,
+"but you'll really find her very interesting when you know her better.
+But she never does appeal to strangers--we've found _that_ out."
+
+"And just now," said Bettie, "she's surely a sight; but when you've
+seen her in the cunning little Indian costume that Mr. Black bought for
+her you'll really like her."
+
+"Perhaps," said Henrietta, doubtfully.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A Full Afternoon
+
+
+"NOW," said Mrs. Crane, with a note of pride in her tone, "I want
+to show you what Peter Black's been doing _this_ time. It's in the
+library."
+
+The interested girls followed Mrs. Crane into the cozy, book-lined
+room. Mr. Black's purchases were apt to be worth seeing, for, now that
+he had a family after so many years of solitude, he was spending his
+money lavishly. And he delighted in surprising his elderly sister with
+unusual gifts.
+
+"There," said Mrs. Crane, pointing to a square cabinet of polished
+wood. "What do you think of that! Can you guess what it is?"
+
+"I think," replied Jean, "it's a cupboard for your very prettiest
+tea-cups--the ones that are too nice to use."
+
+"_I_ think," said Marjory, "that it's a fire-proof safe to keep Rosa
+Marie's plaid dress in, so it won't set the house afire."
+
+"I guess," said Bettie, "it's some sort of a refrigerator to use on
+Sundays only."
+
+"It looks to me," ventured Mabel, "like a cage with a monkey in it.
+I've seen them in processions, only they were fancier."
+
+"I _know_ what it is," said Henrietta, "because we have one like it,
+but ours isn't as nice as this."
+
+"Now turn your backs," requested Mrs. Crane.
+
+In another moment the girls were listening to a delightful concert.
+Wonderful music was pouring from the polished cabinet.
+
+"I was the nearest right," asserted Mabel.
+
+"Why!" objected Bettie, "you said it was a monkey--monkeys don't sing."
+
+"I was right, just the same. It's a hand organ, and everybody knows
+that a monkey's pretty near the same thing."
+
+The girls laughed, for Mabel, who was usually wrong, always insisted
+obstinately that she was right.
+
+"It's a phonograph," explained Henrietta, "and the very best one I ever
+heard."
+
+"It's a whole brass band," breathed Bettie.
+
+"I knew it was good," said Mrs. Crane, contentedly, "for Peter refused
+to tell what he paid for it."
+
+It took a long time for the phonograph to give up all that was inside
+its polished case, and before the entertainment was quite over Mr.
+Black came in.
+
+Bettie, eager to display her new acquaintance, hardly waited to greet
+him before introducing Henrietta. It was a pleasure, as well as a
+novelty, to have so attractive a friend to present.
+
+"This," said Bettie, proudly but a little flustered, "is my hen,
+Frenriet--I mean, my hen----"
+
+Bettie turned scarlet and stopped. The girls shrieked with delight.
+Mrs. Crane laughed till she cried. Mr. Black's roars of laughter
+drowned the phonograph's best effort.
+
+"I'm _not_ your hen," giggled Henrietta. "Not even your chicken. This
+settles _that_ name--I can't risk being mistaken for any more poultry."
+
+"She's Henrietta Bedford," explained Jean, wiping her eyes.
+
+"And how long," teased Mr. Black, "have you been keeping poultry, Miss
+Bettykins?"
+
+"About two weeks," giggled Bettie. "She's Mrs. Slater's granddaughter."
+
+"I don't like to seem inhospitable," said Mr. Black, a few moments
+later, "but it's beginning to snow, and the weather's going to be a
+good deal worse before it gets any better. If you start now, you'll be
+home before the snow begins to drift--there's a strong north wind and
+the thermometer's a bit down-hearted."
+
+The girls had removed their wraps and it took time to get into them.
+Also, Mrs. Crane, noticing that the girls were dressed for mild
+weather, detained them while she hunted up a silk handkerchief to wrap
+about Marjory's throat, a veil to tie over Bettie's ears and some
+warmer gloves for Jean. Henrietta and Mabel refused to be bundled up.
+
+The outside air was many degrees colder than it had been two hours
+earlier, and was full of flying snow. The wind came in gusts, yet there
+was something bracing and stimulating about the stirring atmosphere,
+particularly to Henrietta.
+
+"Oh!" cried she, "this is fine! Why can't we take a long walk? It's a
+shame to hurry home. I just love this. Isn't there somebody we can go
+to see? Hasn't anybody an errand?"
+
+"Ye-es," said Mabel, doubtfully. "We could go down to Mrs. Malony's.
+Mother told me this morning to get her bill, and I forgot all about it."
+
+"Mabel always has a few forgotten errands laid away," teased Marjory.
+"She can show you, too, where she found Rosa Marie--it's down that way."
+
+"I hope," said Henrietta, making a comical grimace, "that there's no
+danger of finding any more like her. But let's go. It's a shame to miss
+any of this."
+
+Going down the long hill toward Mrs. Malony's was entirely delightful,
+for the wind, of which there was a great deal, was at their
+well-protected backs; they fairly scudded before it, laughing joyously
+as they were swept along almost on a run. Going westward at the bottom
+of the hill was not so very bad either, for here the road was somewhat
+sheltered, though the snow was much deeper than the girls had expected
+to find it.
+
+Mrs. Malony, the garrulous egg-woman, was at home; she expressed her
+surprise and delight at the advent of so many unexpected visitors.
+
+"'Tis mesilf thot's glad to see so manny purty faces," said she,
+flying about to find chairs. "'Tis the lovely complexion you have
+to-day, Miss Jean. An' who's the little lady wid the rosy cheek? The
+gran'choild av Mrs. Lady Slater--wud ye hark to thot now! An' how's
+Bettie darlin' wid all her purty smiles? Thot's good--thot's good. An'
+Miss Mabel here--sure she's the fat wan----"
+
+"Mother," explained Mabel, with dignity, "would like her egg-bill."
+
+"Bill, is ut?" replied Mrs. Malony, graciously. "Sure there's no hurry
+at all, at all. The sooner it comes the sooner 'tis spint. Ah, well, if
+you're afther insistin' [no one _had_ insisted] joost count the banes
+in me owld taypot. Ivery wan stands fer wan dozen eggs at twinty-foive
+cints the dozen."
+
+"Thirteen beans," announced Jean, who had counted them several times to
+make certain.
+
+"Sure," persuaded smooth-tongued Mrs. Malony, "you'd best be takin' wan
+more dozen, Miss Mabel. 'Twould be sore unlucky to stop wid t'irteen."
+
+While she was counting the eggs, Mr. Malony, redolent of the stable and
+bearing two steaming pails of milk, came into the kitchen. Mrs. Malony,
+beaming with hospitality, went hastily to the cupboard, brought forth
+five exceedingly thick cups, filled them with milk and passed them to
+her dismayed guests.
+
+Some persons like warm milk, fresh from the cow, with the cow-smell
+overshadowing all other flavors. Mrs. Malony's visitors did not. They
+were too polite to say so, however, so there they sat, five martyrs
+to courtesy, sipping the distasteful milk. It clogged their throats,
+it made them feel queerly upset inside, but still, solely out of
+politeness, they continued to sip.
+
+"Take bigger swallows," advised Mabel, in a smothered whisper.
+
+"I cuk--can't," breathed Bettie.
+
+Mr. Malony had left the room. Presently, Mrs. Malony, in search of a
+basket for the eggs, stooped to rummage in the untidy recess beneath
+the cupboard. Quick as a wink, Henrietta emptied her cup into the
+original pail, but the other unfortunates were left to struggle with
+their unwelcome refreshment. Henrietta, however, gained nothing by her
+trick, for the egg-woman, discovering that her cup was empty, promptly
+refilled it, much to the amusement of the other victims.
+
+Henrietta, discovering their state of mind, was moved to defiance.
+Lifting her cup, with a determined glint in her black eyes, she drank
+every drop in four courageous, continuous gulps. In a twinkling, the
+other girls had imitated her example and were declining Mrs. Malony's
+pressing offer of more milk.
+
+"Joost a wee sup," pleaded Mrs. Malony, reaching for Jean's cup.
+
+"No, thank you," said Jean, rising hastily. "We ought to be getting
+home."
+
+Getting home, however, proved a different matter from getting away from
+home. After escaping Mrs. Malony's insistent hospitality, the girls
+waded across the snowy street and out toward the point to see if Rosa
+Marie's home were still there. The door hung from one hinge and snow
+had drifted, and was still drifting, in at the doorway.
+
+"Do you think," asked Henrietta, gazing at the deserted house, "that
+Rosa Marie's mother will ever come back?"
+
+"No," returned Jean.
+
+"Not to any such homely baby as that," declared Marjory.
+
+"She _will_ come back," asserted Mabel, loyally. "She loved Rosa
+Marie--I saw it in her eyes."
+
+"Looks don't matter, with mothers," soothed Bettie. "A cat likes a
+homely yellow kitten as well as a lovely white one. And Dick has more
+freckles than Bob, but Mother likes him just as well."
+
+"Rosa Marie's mother stood right in that doorway," said Mabel, "and, as
+long as I could see her, her eyes were stretching out after Rosa Marie."
+
+"They must have stuck out on pegs like a lobster's," giggled Henrietta,
+"by the time you reached the corner."
+
+"I think you're _mean_," muttered Mabel.
+
+"I repent," apologized Henrietta. "For a moment I relapsed into
+Frederika, the Disguised Duchess; but now I'm your own kind-hearted
+Sallie and I wish that my toes were as warm as my affections. Let's
+start for civilization--we seem to have the world to ourselves. Doesn't
+anybody else like snow, I wonder?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+Taking a Walk
+
+
+"PHEW!" gasped Jean, wheeling as the north wind, sweeping round the
+corner, caught her square in the face. "I don't think much of that!
+It's like ice."
+
+"Ugh!" groaned Marjory, "I wish I'd stayed home."
+
+"Mercy!" gulped Henrietta, "it's blowing my skin off."
+
+After that, no one had very much to say. The girls needed their breath
+for other purposes. With heads down and jackets pulled tightly about
+them, they started up the long hill with the wind in their faces. It
+was not a pleasant wind. Cold and cutting, it flung icy particles of
+snow against their cheeks, nipped their unprotected ears, stung their
+fingers and found the thin places in their garments. It rushed down
+their throats when they opened their mouths to speak, wrapped their
+petticoats so tightly about them that they had to keep unwinding
+themselves in order to walk at all, heaped the whirling snow in drifts
+and filled the air so full of flakes that it was only between gusts
+that the houses were visible. Worst of all, the way was very much
+uphill, and Mabel, besides being short of breath, was burdened with
+the basket of eggs. The snow seemed to take a delight in piling itself
+directly in front of them.
+
+"Ugh!" gasped Henrietta, "I wish my stockings were fur-lined. They
+thawed out in Mrs. Malony's and now they're frozen stiff. I don't like
+'em."
+
+"Mine, too," panted Mabel.
+
+"And all my skirts," groaned Marjory. "The edges are like saws and
+they're scraping my knees."
+
+"How do you like a real storm?" queried Jean, steering Henrietta
+through a mighty drift.
+
+"Not so well as I thought I should," admitted Henrietta. "I miss my
+blizzard clothes."
+
+The streets, when the girls finally reached the top of the hill, were
+deserted. Even the sides of the houses looked like solid walls of snow,
+for the wind had hurled the big flakes in gigantic handfuls against the
+buildings until they were all nicely coated with a thick frosting; and
+so, all the world was white. And, by the time the five girls reached
+Jean's house, for they finally accomplished that difficult feat, they,
+too, were nicely plastered from head to heels with the clinging snow.
+They looked like animated snow men as they piled thankfully into Mrs.
+Mapes's parlor.
+
+The girls themselves were warm and glowing from the unusual exercise,
+but their stockings and cotton skirts were frozen stiff.
+
+"Henrietta will simply have to stay all night," said Mrs. Mapes,
+discovering the wet stockings. "I sent the coachman home half an hour
+ago for the sake of the horses. I'll telephone Mrs. Slater that you're
+safe. You other girls must go home at once and change your clothes
+before they thaw. And, Jean, you and Henrietta must get into bed at
+once. I'll bring you a hot supper inside of five minutes."
+
+"That'll be fun," declared Jean, seizing Henrietta's hand and making
+for the stairs. "Good-night, girls."
+
+"I guess," said Marjory, when the Mapes's door had closed behind
+Bettie, Mabel and herself, "Jean and Henrietta are going to be great
+chums."
+
+"I'm afraid so," sighed Bettie. "I like Henrietta; but, dear me, I
+don't want Jean to like her better than she does me."
+
+"She won't," comforted Marjory. "Henrietta's all right for a little
+while at a time, but you're _always_ nice."
+
+Thanks to Mrs. Mapes's instructions, none of the girls caught cold; but
+their mothers were so afraid that they might that not one of them was
+permitted to poke her nose out of doors the next day. To Henrietta's
+delight, the drifts reached the fence tops; and, until a huge plow,
+drawn by six horses arranged in pairs, had cleared the way, the roads
+were impassable. The wind, after raging furiously all night, had
+quieted down; but the snow continued to fall in big, soft, clinging
+flakes, every tree and shrub was weighted down with a heavy burden and
+all the world was white. To Henrietta, who had never before seen snow
+in such abundance, it was a most pleasing spectacle.
+
+Bettie, however, was sorely troubled. There was Jean shut in with
+attractive Henrietta and getting "chummier" with her every minute.
+There was Bettie, a solitary prisoner in a fuzzy red wrapper and bed
+slippers, sighing for her beloved Jean. To be sure, Bettie had brothers
+of assorted sizes and complexions, but not one of them could fill
+Jean's place in Bettie's troubled affections.
+
+Had Bettie but known it, however, Jean was not having an entirely
+comfortable day. It happened to be one of Henrietta's "Frederika"
+days. The lively girl tormented bashful Wallace by pretending that
+she herself was excessively shy, and, as shyness was not one of her
+attributes, her victim was covered with confusion. She teased and
+bewildered Roger by chattering so rapidly in French that he couldn't
+understand a word she said, although he had studied the language for
+three years under Miss McGinnis and was proud of his progress. A number
+of times she became so witty at Jean's expense that "Sallie" had to
+rush to the rescue with profuse apologies. Also, she disturbed both Mr.
+and Mrs. Mapes by her extreme restlessness.
+
+"My sakes," confided Mrs. Mapes, in the privacy of the kitchen, whither
+she had fled for the sake of quiet, "I'm glad that girl doesn't belong
+to me; she isn't still a minute."
+
+"Perhaps," said Roger, who had escaped on the pretext of blacking his
+shoes, "it's because she has traveled so much. Maybe she feels as if
+she had to keep going."
+
+"Bettie's certainly a great deal quieter," agreed Jean, who looked
+tired, "and she doesn't talk all night when a body wants to sleep; but
+Henrietta's more fun. You see, you never know what she's going to do
+next, but Bettie's always just the same."
+
+At dinner time that day, Mrs. Mapes asked her husband if he knew
+whether the School Board had accomplished anything at the meeting held
+the night previously.
+
+"No," replied Mr. Mapes, a tall, thin man with a preoccupied air.
+"And they never will as long as each one of them wants to put that
+schoolhouse in a different place. They can't come to any sort of an
+agreement."
+
+Indeed, the poor School Board was having a perplexing time. The
+citizens that lived at the north end of the town wanted the new school
+built there. Other tax-payers declared that the southern portion of
+Lakeville, being more densely populated, offered a more suitable site.
+Then, since the town stretched westward for a long distance, a third
+group of persons were clamoring for the building in _their_ part of the
+town. Besides all these, there were persons who declared that the old
+site was the _only_ place for a school building. As the Board itself
+was divided as to opinion, it began to look as if Lakeville would have
+to get along without a schoolhouse unless it could afford to build
+four, and the tax-payers said it couldn't do that.
+
+"I wish," said Mrs. Mapes, "that I could find a first-class girls'
+school within a reasonable distance. If they don't have a proper
+building in Lakeville by next September I'll send Jean away. That
+Baptist cellar is damp, and I know it. Besides, I went to a good
+boarding school myself and I'd like Jean to have the experience--I'll
+never forget those days."
+
+"Send her," suggested Henrietta, "to the school I'm going to."
+
+"Which one is that?" asked Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"I don't know; but Grandmother says it mustn't be too far away. She
+wants me within reach."
+
+"I think," said Mrs. Mapes, reflectively, "I'll send for some
+catalogues."
+
+The next morning the sun shone brightly on a glittering world.
+Henrietta went into ecstasies over it, for even the tree trunks seemed
+incrusted with diamonds--or at least rhine-stones, Henrietta said. The
+coachman arrived with the Slater horses a little before nine o'clock
+and the two girls were carried off to school in state. They waved their
+hands to Bettie as they passed her trudging in the snow; and poor
+Bettie was suddenly conscious of a sharp twinge of jealousy.
+
+Now that Henrietta had been properly called on and had returned the
+call, she became a permanent part of all the Cottagers' plans.
+Thereafter, there was hardly a day when one or another of the four
+girls did not see the fascinating maid of many names. They always found
+her interesting, attractive and entertaining. Yet, there were days
+when she teased them almost to the limit of their endurance, times
+when they could not quite approve her and moments when she fairly
+roused them to anger; but, in spite of her faults, they could not
+help loving her, because, with all her impishness and her distressing
+lack of repose, she was warm-hearted, loyal and thoroughly true. And,
+although she possessed dozens of advantages that the other girls
+lacked, although she was beautifully gowned, splendidly housed and
+bountifully supplied with spending money, never did she show, in any
+way, the faintest scrap of false pride. She mentioned her life abroad,
+in a simple, matter-of-fact way (as if it were a mere incident that
+might have happened to anybody), but never in any boasting spirit. Her
+prankishness, however, kept her from being too good or too lovable;
+for, as her Grandmother said, she spared no one; sometimes even Jean,
+who was a model of patience, found it hard to forgive fun-loving
+Frederika, the Disguised Duchess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+The Statue from India
+
+
+ALL the shops in Lakeville wore a holiday air, for money was plentiful
+and trade was unusually brisk. The windows were gay with wreaths of
+holly and glittering strings of Christmas-tree ornaments. Clerks were
+busy and smiling. Customers, alert for bargains, crowded about the
+counters and parted cheerfully from their cash. Persons in the streets,
+laden with parcels of every shape, size and color, pushed eagerly
+through the doors or hurried along the busy thoroughfares. All wore
+an air of eager expectancy, for two weeks of December were gone and
+Christmas was fairly scrambling into sight.
+
+The five girls had money to spend. Very little of it, to be sure,
+belonged to the Cottagers; but Henrietta had a great deal, and,
+as they all went together on their shopping expeditions, it didn't
+matter very much, as far as enjoyment went, who did the purchasing.
+Bettie said that it was quite as much fun to help Henrietta pick out
+a five-dollar scarf pin for Simmons, the butler, as it was to choose
+ten-cent paper weights for Bob and Dick. Besides, no one was obliged
+to go home empty-handed, because it took all five to carry Henrietta's
+purchases.
+
+All five were making things besides. Sometimes they sewed at Jean's,
+sometimes at Henrietta's, occasionally at Marjory's and once in a
+while at Mabel's. They liked least of all to go to Marjory's because
+Aunty Jane, who was a wonderfully particular housekeeper, objected
+to their walking on her hardwood floors and seemed equally averse
+to having them step on the rugs. As they couldn't very well use the
+ceiling or feel entirely comfortable under the battery of Aunty Jane's
+disapproving glances, they liked to go where they were more warmly
+welcomed. Perhaps Henrietta's once-dreaded home was the most popular
+place, though in that fascinating abode they could not accomplish a
+great deal in the sewing line because Henrietta invariably produced
+such a bewildering array of unusual belongings to show them that their
+eyes kept busier than their fingers. In another way, however, they
+accomplished a great deal. Henrietta, who was really very clever with
+her needle, had started at one time or another a great many different
+articles. These, in their half-finished condition--the changeable
+girl was much better at beginning things than at completing them--she
+lavishly bestowed on her friends. Lovely flowered ribbons, dainty bits
+of silk and lace, curious scraps of Japanese and Chinese embroidery,
+embossed leather and rich brocades, all these found their way into the
+Cottagers' work-bags.
+
+Out of these fascinating odds and ends they fashioned gifts for Mrs.
+Crane, Anne Halliday's mother, their out-of-town relatives, their
+parents and their school-teachers. They wanted, of course, to buy every
+toy that ever was made for Rosa Marie, little Anne Halliday, Peter
+Tucker and the Marcotte twins; but Mr. Black, meeting them in the
+toy-shop one day, implored them to leave just a few things in the shops
+for him to buy, particularly for Rosa Marie and little Peter Tucker,
+his namesake.
+
+And now, Mabel was immensely pleased with Henrietta; for, one day, Rosa
+Marie, cured of her cold, had been dressed in her cunning little Indian
+costume for the new girl's benefit. Rosa Marie had looked so very much
+more attractive than when she had had a cold that Henrietta had been
+greatly taken with her. As the way to Mabel's affections was through
+approval of Rosa Marie, Henrietta quickly found it, so the threatened
+breach was healed.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Crane," Henrietta had cried, on beholding the little brown
+person in buckskin and feathers, "do let me telephone for James to
+bring the carriage so I can take Rosa Marie to our house and show her
+to my Grandmother. I'll take the very best of care of her. And all four
+of the girls can come with her, so she won't be afraid."
+
+"Oh, _do_," pleaded the others.
+
+"Well, it's mild out to-day," returned Mrs. Crane, glancing out the
+window, "and a little fresh air won't hurt her. I guess her coat will
+go on right over these fixings and I can tie a veil over her head.
+You'll find a telephone in the library, on Mr. Black's desk."
+
+Half an hour later, the six youngsters, carefully tucked between
+splendid fur robes, were on their way to Mrs. Slater's.
+
+"I have a perfectly heavenly plan," said Henrietta, her black eyes
+sparkling with impishness. "Want to hear it?"
+
+"Of course we do," encouraged the Cottagers.
+
+"You see," explained Henrietta, "a large box came from Father this
+morning. It hasn't been opened yet; but Greta and Simmons don't know
+that. I'm going to make them think that Rosa Marie is what came in that
+box--it's time I cheered them up a little, for Simmons has lost some
+money he had in the bank and Greta is homesick for the old country.
+Will you help?"
+
+"Ye-es," promised Jean, doubtfully, "if you're not going to hurt
+anybody's feelings."
+
+"Shan't even scratch one," assured Henrietta. "Now, when we reach the
+house, I'll slip around to the basement door with Rosa Marie--the cook
+will let us in--and you must ring the front-door bell because that will
+take Simmons out of the way while I get up the back stairs. Ask for
+Grandmother, and I'll come down and get you when I'm ready."
+
+So the girls asked for Mrs. Slater--every one of them now liked the
+entertaining old lady very much indeed--and chatted with her merrily
+until Henrietta came running down the stairs.
+
+"Grannie," asked the lively girl, pressing her warm red cheek against
+Mrs. Slater's much paler one, "would you like to be amused? Would you
+like to be a black conspirator and humble your most haughty servitor to
+the dust? Then you must ascend to my haunted den and not say a single
+word for at least five minutes. Come on, girls."
+
+In Henrietta's oddly furnished room there were two large East Indian
+gods and one heathen goddess. Henrietta had managed to group these
+interesting, Oriental figures in one corner of the spacious chamber,
+with appropriate drapings behind them. Near them she had placed an
+empty packing case, oblong in shape and plastered with curious, foreign
+labels. It looked as if it were waiting to be carried away to the
+furnace room or some such place.
+
+Darkening her bedroom and her dressing room, she placed her obliging
+grandmother and her four friends behind the heavy portières.
+
+"You can peek round the edges," said she, "but you mustn't be seen or
+heard or even suspected."
+
+Then, fun-loving Henrietta brought Rosa Marie from another room,
+removed her wraps, concealed them from sight and placed the stolid
+child in a sitting posture on a large tabouret near one of the richly
+colored statues. Next she rang for Greta, and ran downstairs in person
+to ask Simmons to come at once to remove the heavy packing case.
+
+Simmons obeyed immediately and just as the pair reached Henrietta's
+door, Greta, who had been in her own room, joined them. All three
+entered together.
+
+"Don't you want to see my lovely new statue?" asked Henrietta. "There,
+with the rest of my heathen friends."
+
+"Ho," said Simmons, leaning closer to look. "_That's_ wot came in that
+'eavy box. Another 'eathen god from Hindia."
+
+[Illustration: "ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA."]
+
+"He ees very pretty god-lady, Miss Henrietta," approved Greta. "Looks
+most like real."
+
+Rosa Marie, awed by her strange surroundings, played her part most
+beautifully. For a long moment she sat perfectly still. But, just as
+Simmons leaned forward to take a better look at her, Rosa Marie, who
+had suddenly caught a whiff of pungent smoke from the joss-sticks
+that Henrietta had lighted to create a proper atmosphere for her gods
+and goddesses, gave a sudden sneeze. The effect was all that could be
+desired. Simmons leaped backward and Greta, who was excitable, gave a
+piercing shriek.
+
+The hidden girls restrained their giggles, but only with difficulty;
+and Bettie said afterwards that she could feel Mrs. Slater shaking with
+helpless laughter.
+
+"My heye!" exclaimed Simmons, "wot'll they be mykin' next! Look!
+Hit's movin' 'is 'ead."
+
+Rosa Marie proceeded deliberately to move more than her head. Putting
+both hands on the tabouret, she managed somehow to lift herself
+clumsily to all-fours, balancing uncertainly for several moments in
+that ungainly attitude. Then she rose to her feet, and, stiffly, like
+some mechanical toy, stretched out her arms toward Henrietta. Greta
+backed hastily through the doorway; but Simmons eyed the swaying
+youngster with enlightened eyes.
+
+"Hit's a real biby, from Hindia," said he, "but think of hit comin'
+hall that wy in that there box. But them Indoos 'ave a lot of queer
+tricks and Hi suppose they drugged 'im, mide a bloomin' mummy of 'im
+and sent directions for bringin' of 'im to."
+
+"Take the box downstairs, please," said Henrietta, succeeding in the
+difficult task of keeping her face straight. "This is a little North
+Indian from Lakeville, Simmons, not an East Indian from India, and it
+was only some things that I'm not to look at till Christmas that came
+in the box."
+
+"Hi _thought_ hit was mighty stringe," returned Simmons, looking very
+much relieved and not at all resentful. "Hit seemed sort of hawful,
+Miss 'Enrietta, to think as 'ow 'uman bein's could tike such chances
+with heven their hown hoffsprings. But, just the sime, Miss 'Enrietta,
+Hi've 'eard of them 'Indoos doing mighty queer things, and Hi, for one,
+don't trust 'em."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+Comparing Notes
+
+
+IT was eight o'clock, the morning of the twenty-fourth day of December,
+which is twice as exciting a day as the twenty-fifth and at least ten
+times as interesting as the twenty-sixth.
+
+Bettie, and as many of the little Tuckers as had been able to find
+enough clothes for decency, were eating pancakes a great deal faster
+than Mrs. Tucker could bake them over the Rectory stove. Marjory, her
+young countenance somewhat puckered because of the tartness of her
+grapefruit, was sitting sedately opposite her Aunty Jane. Jean had
+finished her breakfast and was tying mysterious tissue paper parcels
+with narrow scarlet ribbon; and Mabel, having suddenly remembered
+that this was the day that the postman brought interesting mail, was
+hurrying with might and main to get into her sailor blouse in order
+to capture the letters. Of course she didn't expect to open any of her
+Christmas mail; but she did like to squeeze the packages. Henrietta was
+reading a long, delightful letter from her father. Mrs. Slater, too,
+had Christmas letters.
+
+Five blocks away Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were finishing their
+breakfast. Their dining-room was at the back of the house, where its
+three broad windows commanded a fine view of the lake. Just at the top
+of the bluff and well inside the Black-Crane yard stood a wonderfully
+handsome fir tree, a truly splendid tree, for in all Lakeville there
+was no other evergreen to compare with it in size, shape or color.
+
+Every now and again, Mr. Black would turn in his chair to gaze
+earnestly out the window at the tree. For a long time, Mrs. Crane, her
+nice dark eyes dancing with fun, watched her brother in silence. But
+when he began to consume the last quarter of his second piece of toast
+she felt that it was time to speak.
+
+"Peter," said she, "you can't do it."
+
+"Do what?" asked Mr. Black, with a guilty start.
+
+"Cut down that tree. I know, just as well as I know anything, that
+you're just aching to make that splendid big evergreen into a
+Christmas-tree for Rosa Marie and those four girls."
+
+"_How_ do you know it?" queried Mr. Black, eying his sister with quick
+suspicion.
+
+"Because I had the same thought myself. It _would_ be fine for
+Christmas--it looks like a Christmas-tree every day of the year. And if
+you've been a sort of bottled-up Santa Claus all your life you're apt
+to be pretty foolish when you're finally unbottled. And that tree----"
+
+"But," queried Mr. Black, "what would it be the day after?"
+
+"That," confessed Mrs. Crane, "is what bothers _me_."
+
+"It does seem a shame," said Mr. Black, rising and walking to the
+window, "to cut down such a perfect specimen as that; and yet, in
+all my life I never met a tree so evidently designed for the express
+purpose of serving as a Christmas-tree. It's a real temptation."
+
+"I know it," sighed Mrs. Crane. "It's been tempting _me_; but I said:
+'Get thee behind me, Santa Claus, and send me to the proper place for
+Christmas-trees.'"
+
+"And did you go to that place?"
+
+"It came to me. I engaged a twelve-foot tree from a man that was taking
+orders at the door."
+
+"So did I," confessed Mr. Black. "I'm not sure that I didn't order two."
+
+"Peter Black! You're spoiling those children."
+
+"I'm having plenty of help," twinkled Mr. Black, shrewdly.
+
+With so many trees to choose from, it certainly seemed probable that
+the Black-Crane household would have at least one respectable specimen
+to decorate; but half an hour later, when the three ordered balsams
+arrived, both Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were greatly disappointed. The
+trees had shrunk from twelve to six feet, and the uneven branches were
+thin and sparsely covered.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Mr. Black, "all three of those trees together wouldn't
+make a whole tree."
+
+"They look," said Mrs. Crane, "as if they were shedding their feathers."
+
+"Most of them," agreed Mr. Black, "have already been shed. I said, Mr.
+Man, that I wanted _good_ trees."
+
+"My wagon broke down," explained the tree-man, "so I couldn't bring
+anything that I couldn't haul on a big sled. They weigh a lot, those
+big fellows."
+
+"Can't you make a special trip," suggested Mrs. Crane, "and bring us a
+first-class tree--just one?"
+
+"It's too late. I have to go too far before I'm allowed to cut any."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Black, "I'll pay you for these, and I'll give you
+fifty cents extra to haul them off the premises. We don't want any such
+sorrowful specimens round here to cast a gloom over our Christmas, do
+we, Sarah?"
+
+"Peter," announced Mrs. Crane, when the man had departed with his
+scraggly trees, "I have an idea. The weather's likely to stay mild for
+another twenty-four hours, isn't it?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"And this is an honest town?"
+
+"As honest as they make 'em."
+
+"And all those girls are accustomed to being outdoors----"
+
+"I _see_!" cried Mr. Black, giving Mrs. Crane's plump shoulders a
+sudden, friendly whack. "I _almost_ thought of that myself. We'll
+certainly surprise 'em _this_ time."
+
+Although it was getting late, Mr. Black still hung about the house as
+if he had not yet freed his mind of Christmas matters.
+
+"I suppose," said Mr. Black, breaking a long silence, "that you've
+thought of a few things to put on the tree for those girls?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly, "I've gathered up some little
+fixings that I thought they'd fancy."
+
+"It might be a good idea," said Mr. Black, rising to ring for Martin,
+"for us to compare notes. Two heads are better than one, you know;
+and after what they did for us, we owe those little folks a splendid
+Christmas."
+
+"We certainly do," agreed Mrs. Crane, wiping away the sudden moisture
+that sprung to her eyes at thought of the memorable dinner party in
+Dandelion Cottage--the dinner that had brought her estranged brother to
+the rescue. "I don't know where I'd have been now if it hadn't been for
+those blessed children. In the poorhouse, probably."
+
+"Martin," said Mr. Black, huskily, "you go to the storeroom in the
+basement. Take a hatchet with you and knock the top off that wooden box
+that is marked with a big blue cross and bring it up here to me."
+
+Presently Martin, who always blundered if there was the very faintest
+excuse for blundering, returned, proudly bearing the cover of the large
+box.
+
+"Thank you," replied Mr. Black, turning twinkling eyes upon Mrs. Crane,
+who twinkled back. "Now bring up the box with all the things in it."
+
+"I'll get my things, too," offered Mrs. Crane. "They're right here in
+the library closet, in a clothes hamper."
+
+Then when Martin had brought the box, the two middle-aged people began
+to sort their presents. They went about it rather awkwardly because
+neither had had much experience; but they were certainly enjoying their
+novel occupation.
+
+"This," said Mr. Black, clearing a space on the big library table, "is
+Bettie's pile, and Heaven knows that I tried not to get it bigger than
+the other three; but everything I saw in the shops shouted 'Buy me for
+Bettie'--and I usually obeyed."
+
+"This is Jean's pile," said Mrs. Crane, baring another space, "and I
+guess I feel about Jean the way you do about Bettie; but I love Bettie
+too--and all of them. Rosa Marie's things will have to go on the
+floor--they're mostly bumpy and breakable."
+
+Mr. Black rummaged in his box, Mrs. Crane fished in her basket.
+Presently there was a rapidly growing, untidy heap of large, lumpy
+bundles on the floor for Rosa Marie, and four very neat stacks of
+square, compact parcels for the Cottagers.
+
+"Let's open them all," suggested Mr. Black, eagerly. "We can tie them
+up again."
+
+So the elderly couple, as interested as two children, opened their
+packages. At first, both were too busy renewing acquaintanceship with
+their own purchases to notice what the other was doing; but presently
+Mrs. Crane gave a start as her eye traveled over the table.
+
+"Why, Peter Black," she exclaimed. "Here are two watches in Bettie's
+pile!"
+
+"I didn't buy but one of them," declared Mr. Black, placing his finger
+on one of the dainty timepieces. "That's mine."
+
+"The other's mine," confessed Mrs. Crane. "And, Peter, did you go and
+buy dolls all around, too?"
+
+"I did," owned Mr. Black, opening a long narrow box. "One _always_ buys
+dolls for Christmas."
+
+"Well," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I guess they can stand two apiece, because
+ours are not a bit alike. You see, you got carried away by fine clothes
+and I paid more attention to the dolls themselves. The bodies are
+first-class and the faces are lovely. I bought mine undressed and I've
+had four weeks' pleasure dressing them--I sort of hate to give them
+up. The clothes are plain and substantial; I couldn't make 'em fancy."
+
+"But the watches, Sarah?"
+
+"Well, I guess we'll have to send half of those watches back. Yours are
+the nicest--we'll keep yours."
+
+"I suspect," said Mr. Black, reflectively pinching two large parcels in
+Rosa Marie's heap, "that we've both bought Teddy bears for Rosa Marie.
+And we've both supplied the girls with perfume, purses and writing
+paper, but I don't see any books."
+
+"We'll use the extra-watch money for books," decided Mrs. Crane,
+promptly. "Suppose you attend to that--if we both do it we'll have
+another double supply. I see we've both bought candy, too; but I need a
+box for the milk-boy and I'd like to send some little thing to Martin's
+small sister."
+
+"On the whole," said Mr. Black, complacently, "we've managed pretty
+well considering our inexperience; but next time we'll do better."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Christmas Eve
+
+
+IN Lakeville, Christmas always began at exactly four o'clock the
+afternoon of the twenty-fourth; for the young people of that little
+town--even the very old young people with gray hair and youthful
+eyes--always indulged in an unusual and extremely enjoyable custom. The
+moment that marked this real beginning of Christmas found each person
+with gifts for her neighbor sallying forth with a great basketful of
+parcels on her arm. If one had a great many friends and neighbors it
+often took until ten o'clock at night to distribute all one's gifts.
+As each package was wrapped in white tissue paper, tied with ribbon
+and further adorned with sprigs of holly or gay Christmas cards,
+these Christmas baskets were decidedly attractive; and the streets of
+Lakeville, from four to ten, were certain to be full of gayety and
+genuine Christmas cheer.
+
+On all other days of the year, the Cottagers traveled together; but
+on this occasion each girl was an entirely separate person. Bettie,
+wearing a fine air of importance, went alone to Mabel's, to Jean's and
+to Marjory's to leave her gifts for her three friends. Although, at
+all other times, it was her habit to run in unceremoniously, to-day
+she rang each door-bell and was formally admitted to each front hall,
+where she selected the package designed for each house. Jean and the
+other two, likewise, went forth by themselves to leave their mysterious
+little parcels. But when this rite was completed all four ran to their
+own homes, added more parcels to their gay baskets and then congregated
+in Mrs. Mapes's parlor.
+
+They had gifts for dear little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte twins,
+Henrietta Bedford, Rosa Marie, Mr. Black, Mrs. Crane, some distant
+cousins of Jean's and for all their school-teachers that had not gone
+out of town for the holidays. Besides, their parents had intrusted them
+with articles to be delivered to their friends and Mabel had a gift for
+the dust-chute Janitor, a silver match-safe with the date of the fire
+engraved under his initials.
+
+"We'll go to Henrietta's first," decided Jean, "because that's the
+farthest."
+
+"And to the Janitor's next," said Mabel, "because I want to get it over
+and forget about it."
+
+To make things more exciting for Henrietta, the girls went in singly
+to present their offerings, the others crouching out of sight behind
+the stone balustrades that flanked the steps. Each time the bell rang,
+Henrietta was right at Simmons's heels when he opened the door. Then,
+after a brief wait outside, all four again presented themselves to
+invite Henrietta, who had gifts for Rosa Marie, to go with them to Mr.
+Black's and all the other places. Henrietta was glad to go, because
+she herself was too new to Lakeville to have very many friends to favor
+with presents. The five had a very merry time with their baskets; but
+they were much too excited to stay a great while under any one roof.
+They shouted merry greetings to the rest of the basket-laden population
+and paused more than once to obligingly pull a door-bell for some
+elderly acquaintance who found that she needed more hands than she had
+started out with.
+
+"How jolly everybody is!" remarked Henrietta. "I never saw a more
+Christmassy lot of people. It must be lovely to have a long, long list
+to give to."
+
+"Father says this is an unusually nice town," offered Bettie. "The
+people seem actually glad to have folks sick and in trouble so they can
+send them flowers and things to eat."
+
+"What a charitable place," laughed Henrietta, gaily. "I hope nobody's
+longing for _me_ to come down with anything. I'd rather stay well than
+eat flowers--they're too expensive just now."
+
+"My!" exclaimed Mabel, after all the gifts had been distributed and the
+girls, with their empty baskets turned over their heads, had started
+homeward, "won't to-morrow be a lively day. First, all our stockings;
+very early in the morning at home. Next, all our Christmas packages to
+open--I've about ten already that I haven't even squeezed--that is, not
+_very_ hard, except one that I know is a bottle. Then our dinners----"
+
+"Too bad we can't have all our dinners together," mourned Marjory, "but
+of course your mothers and my Aunty Jane and Henrietta's grandmother
+would be too lonely if we did; and all the families in a bunch would
+make too many to feed comfortably."
+
+"And then," proceeded Mabel, "a tree at Mr. Black's just as soon as
+it's dark enough to light the candles, and supper and another tree at
+Henrietta's in the evening, and a ride home in the Slater carriage
+afterwards, because by that time we'll surely be too tired to walk."
+
+"And I've trimmed a tree for the boys at home," said Bettie. "There
+won't be anything on it for you, but you can all come to see it."
+
+"Aunty Jane says that Christmas-trees shed their feathers and make too
+much litter," said Marjory, "but with three others to visit I don't
+mind if I don't have one."
+
+"You can have half of mine," offered Mabel, generously. "I shan't have
+time to trim more than half of it, anyway, so I'd like somebody to
+help."
+
+"I suppose," said Marjory, doubtfully, "that we ought to do something
+for the poor, but I don't know where to find any since our washwoman
+married the butcher."
+
+"I'm glad you don't," laughed Henrietta. "I've nine cents left and it's
+got to last, for I shan't have any more until I get my allowance the
+first of January, unless somebody sends me money for Christmas."
+
+"I guess," giggled Jean, fishing an empty purse from her pocket, "the
+rest of us couldn't scare up nine cents between us; but I have an uncle
+who always sends me a paper dollar every year. I've spent it in at
+least fifty different ways already. I always have lovely times with
+that dollar _before_ it comes, but it just sort of melts away into
+nothing afterwards."
+
+"I wish," breathed Mabel, fervently, "_I_ had an uncle like that."
+
+"Yes," agreed Henrietta, "a few uncles with the paper-dollar habit
+wouldn't be bad things to have."
+
+"I caught a glimpse of your tree, Henrietta," confessed Marjory. "I
+stood on the balustrade outside and peeked in the window when Jean was
+inside. It's going to be perfectly grand; but of course I didn't _mean_
+to peek. I just got up there because I was too excited to stay on the
+ground."
+
+"So did I," owned Bettie.
+
+"I wonder," said Mabel, "where Mr. Black's tree is. We were in all the
+downstairs rooms and I didn't see a sign of it."
+
+"Probably," teased Henrietta, "he's forgotten to order one. Unless one
+forms the habit very early in life, one is very apt to overlook little
+things like that."
+
+"Mr. Black never forgets," assured Bettie.
+
+"Probably it's some place in the yard," ventured Marjory, not guessing
+how close she came to the truth.
+
+"No," declared Mabel, positively. "I looked out the windows and there
+wasn't a single sign of a tree anywhere. I pretty nearly asked about
+it, but I wasn't sure that that would be polite."
+
+"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "There'll _be_ one if Mr. Black has to
+plant a seed and grow it over night. He and Mrs. Crane are more excited
+over Christmas than we are. They can't think of anything else."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+A Crowded Day
+
+
+MABEL rose very early indeed on Christmas morning to explore her
+bulging stocking and to open her packages; but Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane
+were even earlier, and they were delighted to find that the weather
+had remained mild. Putting on their outside wraps and warm overshoes,
+the worthy couple went with good-natured Martin and Maggie, the nimble
+nursery maid, to the garden as soon as it was light. They strung the
+tall tree from top to bottom with tinsel and glittering Christmas-tree
+ornaments, the finest that money could buy. Martin and the maid,
+perched on tall step-ladders, worked enthusiastically. Mr. Black and
+Mrs. Crane handed up the decorations. The cook, watching them from the
+basement window, grinned broadly at the sight.
+
+"Sure," said she, "'tis a lot of children they are; but 'twould do no
+harrum if all the wurruld was loike 'em."
+
+By church time the towering tree was in readiness except for a few of
+the more precious gifts, to be added later.
+
+"I hope," said Mrs. Crane, with a lingering, backward glance, when
+there was no further excuse for remaining outdoors, "that the air will
+be as quiet to-night as it is now. It would be dreadful if we couldn't
+light the candles."
+
+"We'll have to trust to luck," returned Mr. Black, "but I'm quite sure
+that luck will be with us."
+
+Of course the girls enjoyed their stockings at home, their gifts
+that arrived by mail and express from out-of-town relatives and the
+bountiful dinners at the home tables. But the Black-Crane tree to which
+Henrietta, likewise, had been invited, was something entirely new and
+so proved particularly enjoyable; if not, indeed, the crowning event
+of the day. Martin had cleared away the snow and had laid boards and
+even a carpet for them to stand on, and there were chairs and extra
+wraps, only the girls were too excited to use them. But Mrs. Crane
+and placid Rosa Marie sat enveloped in steamer rugs while the others
+capered about the brilliantly lighted tree, constantly discovering new
+beauties.
+
+"I declare," sighed Mrs. Crane, happily, "you're the youngest of the
+lot, Peter."
+
+"Well," returned Mr. Black, "why not? It's the first real Christmas
+I've had for forty years--but let's have another Christmas dinner on
+New Year's Day; I was disappointed when all these young folks said,
+'No, thank you,' to our invitation to dinner. Just remember, girls,
+we expect to see you all here the first of January or there'll be
+trouble--I'll see that it lasts all the year, too."
+
+"Peter Black," warned Mrs. Crane, "that step-ladder's prancing on one
+leg. If you go over that bluff you won't stop till you land in the
+lake. Let Martin do all the circus acts."
+
+"I've got it, now," said Mr. Black, coming down safely with the small
+parcel that had dangled so long just above his reach. "Here's something
+for Henrietta Bedford, with the tree's compliments."
+
+"How nice of you to remember me," cried Henrietta, opening the parcel.
+"And what a dear little pin--just what I needed. Thank you very much
+indeed."
+
+Of all their gifts, however, the Cottagers liked their lovely little
+watches the best. They had expected no such magnificent gifts from Mr.
+Black, and their own people had, of course, considered them much too
+young to be trusted with watches.
+
+"Dear me," said Mabel, strutting about with her timepiece pinned to her
+blouse, "I feel too grown-upedy for words. I never expected this moment
+to come."
+
+"I've _always_ wanted a watch," breathed Jean, "but I certainly
+supposed I'd have to wait until I'd graduated from high-school--folks
+almost always get them then."
+
+"And I," beamed Marjory, "never expected a _pretty_, really truly
+girl's watch, because--worse luck--I'm to get Aunty Jane's awful watch
+when she dies. Of course I don't want her to die a minute before her
+time, but getting even _that_ watch seemed sort of hopeless because all
+Aunty Jane's ancestors that weren't killed by accident lived to enjoy
+their nineties. But that doesn't prevent Aunty Jane's promising me that
+clumsy old turnip whenever she's particularly pleased with me."
+
+Bettie was too delighted for speech. But her big brown eyes spoke
+eloquently for her.
+
+Rosa Marie accepted the unusual tree, all her Teddy bears, her dolls
+and other gifts, very much as a matter of course. Nothing it appeared
+was ever sufficiently surprising to astonish calm little Rosa Marie.
+
+"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "she's awfully surprised inside."
+
+"I know _I_ am," laughed Mabel. "Inside and out, too."
+
+Then, just as Mrs. Crane had decided that Rosa Marie had been outdoors
+long enough, the Slater carriage arrived for the girls. Mr. Black,
+beaming at the success of his Christmas party, packed them with all
+their belongings into the vehicle and they rolled happily away.
+
+They stopped at their own homes just long enough to drop most of the
+gifts they had garnered from the Black-Crane tree; and then Henrietta
+whisked her friends to the Slater home, where Mrs. Slater entertained
+them for two hours over a delightful, genuinely English Christmas
+supper.
+
+Henrietta's tree, too, was a very handsome one. A realistic Santa Claus
+who seemed as English as the supper, since he dropped the letter H just
+as Simmons always did, distributed the gifts. When the Cottagers opened
+odd, foreign-looking parcels and found that Henrietta had given each
+girl a set of three beautiful Oriental boxes with jewelled tops, their
+delight knew no bounds. They had expected nothing so fine.
+
+"You see," explained Henrietta, "I told Father, months ago, to send
+me a lot of little things to give away for Christmas and of course he
+bought boxes. I believe he buys every one he sees."
+
+"They're darlings," declared Jean, dreamily. "They take you away to
+far-off places where things smell old and--and magnificent."
+
+"It's the grown-upness of my presents that I like," explained
+eleven-year-old Mabel, with a big sigh of satisfaction. "It's lovely to
+have people treat you as if you were somebody."
+
+"You see," laughed Marjory, "it's only two years ago that an
+absent-minded aunt of Mr. Bennett's sent Mabel a rattle, and the poor
+child can't forget it."
+
+"Miss 'Enrietta," inquired Santa Claus, anxiously, when the Slater
+tree, too, had been stripped of all but its decorations, "might Hi be
+hexcused now? Hi'm due at a Christmas ball and Hi'm hawfully afride
+these togs is meltin' me 'igh collar."
+
+"Yes," laughed Henrietta, "you've done nobly and I hope you'll have a
+lovely time at the party."
+
+It was half-past ten before the Cottagers got to bed that night--a long
+day because they had risen so early.
+
+"But," breathed Bettie, happily, "when days are as nice as this I like
+'em long."
+
+"It's nice to have friends," said Jean.
+
+"I wish," sighed Mabel, "they'd make some kind of a watch that had to
+be wound every hour; it seems awfully hard to wait until morning."
+
+When Mrs. Bennett looked in that night to see if Mabel had remembered
+to take off her best hair ribbon, she found a doll on each side of the
+blissful slumberer, a watch pinned to her nightdress, a jeweled box
+clasped loosely in each relaxed hand and at least half a bushel of
+other treasures under the uncomfortable pillow. As Mrs. Bennett gently
+removed all these articles and straightened the bed-clothes Mabel
+murmured in her sleep, "Merry Christmas, girls."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+A Bettie-less Plan
+
+
+THE first thing that happened after Christmas was the announcement of
+the School Board's decision to wait a full year before beginning to
+build a new schoolhouse.
+
+"Even if we could decide on a site," said they, "it would be hard
+on the tax-payers to furnish money for such a building all at one
+assessment. By spreading it over two years' tax-rolls it will come
+easier."
+
+The fathers, for the most part, were pleased with the arrangement, but
+many of the mothers disliked it very much indeed.
+
+"We must do something about it," said Aunty Jane, who had called at
+Mrs. Bennett's to talk the matter over. "I'm in favor of sending
+Marjory away to some good girls' school, because she has some money
+that is to be used solely for educational purposes. There is enough
+for college and for at least one year at a boarding school, besides
+something for extras. My conscience will feel easier when that money
+begins to go toward its proper purpose."
+
+"The Doctor thinks of going to Germany next fall for a special course
+of study that he thinks he needs," returned Mrs. Bennett. "If we could
+place Mabel in a safe, comfortable school, I could go with him. We've
+been talking of it for a long time."
+
+"I certainly am not satisfied," admitted Mrs. Mapes, when Aunty Jane
+put the matter to her. "There are too many pupils crowded into that
+Baptist basement and it's so damp that I've had to put cold compresses
+on Jean's throat four times since the fire. If you can find a good
+school to fit a modest pocketbook we'd be glad to send Jean for the one
+year."
+
+Then Aunty Jane unfolded her plans to the Tuckers.
+
+"It's a beautiful idea," said pleasant Dr. Tucker, "as far as the rest
+of you are concerned; but you will have to leave Bettie entirely out of
+the scheme; we simply can't afford it. We've always hoped to be able
+to do something for Dick--he wants to be a physician--but even that is
+hopelessly beyond us at present."
+
+"No," added Mrs. Tucker, shifting the heavy baby to her other arm and
+hoping that Aunty Jane would not notice the dust on the battered table,
+"we couldn't even think of sending Bettie. But Mrs. Slater intends
+letting Henrietta go some place next fall; why don't you talk it over
+with her?"
+
+"I mean to," assured Aunty Jane. "You see, it will need a great deal of
+talking over because it may prove hard to find exactly the right kind
+of school. The eastern seminaries are too far away. It must be some
+place south of Lakeville, within a day's journey, within reach of all
+our pocketbooks, and in a healthful location. It mustn't be too big,
+too stylish, or too old-fashioned. I'm sending out postal cards every
+day and getting catalogues by every mail; but so far, I haven't come to
+any decision except that Marjory is to go _some_ place."
+
+At first, the older people said little about school matters to the four
+girls, but as winter wore on it became an understood thing that not
+only fortunate Henrietta but Jean, Marjory and Mabel were to go away to
+school the following September.
+
+"Won't it be simply glorious," said Henrietta, who was entertaining the
+Cottagers in her den, "if all four of us land in the same school; and
+we _must_--I shall stand out for that. And you and I, Jean, shall room
+together and be chums."
+
+"Then Marjory and I," announced Mabel, "shall room together, too, and
+fight just the way we always do if Jean isn't on hand to stop us."
+
+"Won't it be perfectly fine?" breathed Marjory. "I've always loved
+boarding-school stories and now we'll be living right in one."
+
+Bettie kept silence, but her eyes were big and troubled. With the
+girls gone she knew that her world would be sadly changed. Her close
+companionship with the other Cottagers--she was only three when
+she first began to play with Jean--had prevented her forming other
+friendships. Without doubt, Aunty Jane would be lonely; the Bennetts,
+in Germany, might miss noisy, affectionate Mabel, Mrs. Mapes might
+long for helpful Jean and Mrs. Slater would certainly find her big,
+beautiful home dull with no sparkling Henrietta but it was Bettie,
+poor little impecunious, uncomplaining Bettie, who would be the very
+loneliest of all. The others would lose only one girl apiece; Bettie's
+loss would be fourfold. Lovely Jean, sprightly Marjory, jolly Mabel and
+attractive Henrietta--how _could_ she spare them all at once! And the
+glorious times the absent four would have together--how _could_ Bettie
+miss all that? It seemed, to the little, overwhelmed girl, too big a
+trouble to talk about.
+
+For a long, long time the more fortunate girls were too taken up with
+their own prospects to think very seriously of Bettie's; but one day
+Jean was suddenly astonished at the depth of misery that she surprised
+in Bettie's wistful, tell-tale eyes. After that, the girls openly
+expressed their pity for Bettie, who would have to stay in Lakeville.
+This proved even harder to bear than their light-hearted chatter; for
+it made Bettie pity herself to an even greater extent.
+
+Of course, it would be several months before the hated school--Bettie,
+by this time, was quite certain that she hated it--would swallow up
+her dearest four friends at one sudden, hideous gulp; but remote as
+the date was, the interested girls could talk of very little else. No
+matter what topic they might begin with, it always worked around at
+last to "when I go away next fall."
+
+"I can't have any clothes this spring," said Jean, when the girls, in
+a body, were escorting Henrietta home from her dressmaker's. "Mother's
+letting my old things down and piecing everything till I feel like a
+walking bedquilt. You see, I'm to have new things to go away with."
+
+"Same here," asserted Mabel. "Only _my_ mother's having a worse time
+than yours to make my things meet. My waist measure is twenty-nine
+inches and my skirt bands are only twenty-seven."
+
+"_Only_ twenty-seven," groaned shapely Henrietta.
+
+"If you see a second Aunty Jane," said Marjory, skipping ahead to
+imitate the elder Miss Vale's prim, peculiar walk, "running round
+Lakeville all summer, you'll know who it is. She's cutting down two of
+her thousand-year-old gowns to tide me over the season. One came out of
+the Ark and she purchased the other at a little shop on Mount Ararat."
+
+"Grandmother's making lists," laughed Henrietta, "of all the things
+mentioned in all the catalogues. When she gets done, probably she'll
+add them all up and divide the result by _me_; and that will give a
+respectable outfit for one girl."
+
+"Poor Bettie!" said sympathetic Jean, squeezing Bettie's slim hand.
+"You're out of it all, aren't you?"
+
+But this was too much for Bettie. She turned hastily and fled.
+
+The girls looked after her pityingly.
+
+"Poor Bettie!" murmured Jean. "It's awfully hard on her to hear all
+this talk about school. She's always had us, you know, and she thinks
+there won't be a scrap of Lakeville left when we're gone."
+
+In February Rosa Marie created a little excitement by coming down
+with measles. Maggie, the maid, had broken out with this unlovely
+affliction and no one had suspected what the trouble was until she had
+peeled in the actual presence of Rosa Marie. Of course Rosa Marie came
+down with measles too. But there was an unusual feature about this
+illness. Although it was Maggie and Rosa Marie who were supposed to be
+the sufferers it was really Mrs. Crane who did all the suffering. You
+see, this inexperienced lady read all the literature that she could
+find that touched on the subject of measles and its after-effects;
+and long after Rosa Marie had entirely recovered, conscientious Mrs.
+Crane remained awake nights waiting for the dreaded "after-effects" to
+develop.
+
+"We'll bury Mrs. Crane with whooping cough," sputtered Dr. Bennett,
+writing a soothing prescription for the good lady, "if Rosa Marie ever
+catches it. She's a hen bringing up a solitary duckling, and she's
+certainly overdoing it. She ought not to have the responsibility of
+that child; she's not fitted for responsibilities, yet she's the sort
+that takes 'em."
+
+"I'll adopt Rosa Marie myself," declared Henrietta Bedford, hearing
+of this opinion and waylaying Dr. Bennett in Mrs. Slater's hall to
+make her light-hearted offer. "She'd go beautifully with the other
+picturesque objects in my den and I'm very sure that the responsibility
+won't weigh _me_ down."
+
+"So am I," laughed Dr. Bennett. "So sure of it that I shan't allow you
+to afflict your grandmother with any carelessly adopted babies. But
+that child is on my conscience, since Mabel was the principal culprit
+in the matter. We'll try to get Mrs. Crane to send her to an asylum;
+only that dear lady's conscience will have to be bombarded from all
+sides before it will let her consent to any such sensible plan. Perhaps
+you can get the girls--particularly Mabel,--to look at the matter from
+that point of view; we must rescue Mrs. Crane."
+
+"I'll try to," promised Henrietta.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+Anxious Days
+
+
+FOR the next few weeks the Cottagers led as quiet a life as almost
+daily association with Henrietta would permit. Jean grew a trifle
+taller, Marjory discovered new ways of doing her hair and Mabel
+remained as round and ruddy as ever. But everybody was worried about
+Bettie. She seemed listless and indifferent in school, she fell asleep
+over her books when she attempted to study at night, she grew averse to
+getting up mornings and day by day she grew thinner and paler, until
+even heedless Mabel observed that she was all eyes.
+
+"What's the trouble?" asked Jean, when Bettie said that she didn't feel
+like going to the Public Library corner to view the Uncle Tom's Cabin
+parade. "A walk would do you good, and it's only four blocks."
+
+"I'm tired," returned Bettie. "My head would like to go but my feet
+would rather not. And my hands don't want to do anything--or even
+my tongue. You can tell me about the parade--that'll be easier than
+looking at it."
+
+Now, this was a new Bettie. The old one, while not exactly a noisy
+person, had been so active physically that the others had sometimes
+found it difficult to follow her dancing footsteps. She had ever been
+quick to wait on the other members of her large family; or to do
+errands, in the most obliging fashion, for any of her friends. This
+new Bettie eyed the Tucker cat sympathetically when it mewed for milk;
+but she relegated the task of feeding pussy to one of her much more
+unwilling small brothers.
+
+"She needs a tonic," said Mrs. Tucker, giving Bettie dark-brown doses
+from a large bottle. "It's the spring, I guess."
+
+Two days after the parade there was great excitement among Bettie's
+friends. She had not appeared at school. That in itself was not
+an unusual occurrence, for Bettie often stayed at home to help her
+overburdened mother through particularly trying days; but when Jean
+stopped in to consult her little friend about homemade valentines, Mrs.
+Tucker met her with the news that Bettie was sick in bed.
+
+"Can't I see her?" asked Jean.
+
+"I'm afraid not," replied Mrs. Tucker, who looked worried. "She's
+asleep just now and she has a temperature."
+
+When Mabel heard this latter fact she at once consulted Dr. Bennett.
+
+"Father," she queried, "do folks ever die of temperature?"
+
+"Why, yes," returned the Doctor. "If the temperature is below zero they
+sometimes freeze. Why?"
+
+"Mrs. Tucker says that's what Bettie's got--temperature."
+
+"It isn't a disease, child. It's a condition of heat or cold. But it's
+too soon to say anything about Bettie--go play with your dolls."
+
+Henrietta and the remaining Cottagers immediately thought of lovely
+things to do for Bettie. So, too, did Mr. Black. Impulsive Henrietta
+purchased a large box of most attractive candy, Jean made her a lovely
+sponge cake that sat down rather sadly in the middle but rose nobly
+at both ends; Mabel begged half a lemon pie from the cook; Marjory
+concocted a wonderful bowl of orange jelly with candied cherries on
+top, Mrs. Crane made a steaming pitcherful of chicken soup and Mr.
+Black sent in a great basket of the finest fruit that the Lakeville
+market afforded.
+
+But when all these successive and well-meaning visitors presented
+themselves and their unstinted offerings at the Rectory door, Dr.
+Tucker received them sadly.
+
+"Bettie is down with a fever," said he. "She can't eat _anything_."
+
+The days that followed were the most dreadful that the Cottagers had
+ever known. They lived in suspense. Day after day when they asked
+for news of Bettie the response was usually, "Just about the same."
+Occasionally, however, Dr. Bennett shook his head dubiously and said,
+"Not quite so well to-day."
+
+For weeks--for _years_ it seemed to the disheartened children--these
+were the only tidings that reached them from the sick-room. There was a
+trained nurse whose white cap sometimes gleamed in an upper window, the
+grave-faced, uncommunicative doctor visited the house twice a day, a
+boy with parcels from the drug store could frequently be seen entering
+the Rectory gate and that was about all that the terribly interested
+friends could learn concerning their beloved Bettie. They spent most of
+their time hovering quietly and forlornly about Mrs. Mapes's doorstep,
+for that particular spot furnished the best view of the afflicted
+Rectory. They wanted, poor little souls, to keep as close to Bettie as
+possible. If the sun shone during this time, they did not know it; for
+all the days seemed dark and miserable.
+
+"If we could only help a little," mourned Jean, who looked pale and
+anxious, "it wouldn't be so bad."
+
+"I teased her," sighed Henrietta, repentantly, "only two days before
+she was taken sick. I do wish I hadn't."
+
+"I gave her the smaller half of my orange," lamented Mabel, "the very
+last time I saw her. If--if I don't ever see--see her again----"
+
+"Oh, well," comforted Marjory, hastily, "she might have been just
+that much sicker if she'd eaten the larger piece. But _I_ wish I
+hadn't talked so much about boarding school. It always worried her and
+sometimes I tried [Marjory blushed guiltily at the remembrance] to make
+her just a little envious."
+
+"I'm afraid," confessed Jean, "I sometimes neglected her just a little
+for Henrietta; but I mean to make up for it if--if I have a chance."
+
+"That's it," breathed Marjory, softly, "if we only have a chance."
+
+Then, because the March wind wailed forlornly, because the waiting had
+been so long and because it seemed to the discouraged children as if
+the chance, after all, were extremely slight--as slight and frail a
+thing as poor little Bettie herself--the four friends sat very quietly
+for many minutes on the rail of the Mapes's broad porch, with big tears
+flowing down their cheeks. Presently Mabel fell to sobbing outright.
+
+Mr. Black, on his way home from his office, found them there. He had
+meant to salute them in his usual friendly fashion, but at sight of
+their disconsolate faces he merely glanced at them inquiringly.
+
+"She's--she's just about the same," sobbed Jean.
+
+Mr. Black, without a word, proceeded on his way; but all the sparkle
+had vanished from his dark eyes and his countenance seemed older.
+He, too, was unhappy on Bettie's account and he lived in hourly dread
+of unfavorable news. The very next morning, however, there was a more
+hopeful air about Dr. Bennett when he left the Rectory. Mabel, waiting
+at home, questioned him mutely with her eyes.
+
+"A very slight change for the better," said he, "but it is too soon for
+us to be sure of anything. We're not out of the woods yet."
+
+Next came the tidings that Bettie was really improving, though not at
+all rapidly; yet it was something to know that she was started on the
+road to recovery.
+
+Perhaps the tedious days that followed were the most trying days
+of all, however, for the impatient children; because the "road to
+recovery" in Bettie's case seemed such a tremendously long road that
+her little friends began to fear that Bettie would never come into
+sight at the end of it, but she did at last. And such a forlorn Bettie
+as she was!
+
+She had certainly been very ill. They had shaved her poor little head,
+her eyes seemed almost twice their usual size and the girls had not
+believed that any living person could become so pitiably thin; but the
+wasting fever was gone and what was left of Bettie was still alive.
+
+Long before the invalid was able to sit up, the girls had been admitted
+one by one and at different times, to take a look at her. Bettie had
+smiled at them. She had even made a feeble little joke about being able
+to count every one of her two hundred bones.
+
+After a time, Bettie could sit up in bed. A few days later, rolled in a
+gaily flowered quilt presented by the women of the parish; she occupied
+a big, pillowed chair near the window; and all four of the girls were
+able to throw kisses to her from Jean's porch. And now she could eat a
+few spoonfuls of Mrs. Crane's savory broth, a very little of Marjory's
+orange jelly and one or two of Mr. Black's imported grapes. But, for a
+long, long time, Bettie progressed no further than the chair.
+
+"I don't know what ails that child," confessed puzzled Dr. Bennett.
+"She's like a piece of elastic with all the stretch gone from the
+rubber. She seems to lack something; not exactly vitality--animation,
+perhaps, or ambition. Yes, she certainly lacks ambition. She ought to
+be outdoors by now."
+
+"Hurry and get well," urged Jean, who had been instructed to try to
+rouse her too-slowly-improving friend. "The weather's warmer every day
+and it won't be long before we can open Dandelion Cottage. And we've
+sworn a tremendous vow not to show Henrietta--she's crazy to see it--a
+single inch of that house until you're able to trot over with us.
+Here's the key. You're to keep it until you're ready to unlock that
+door yourself."
+
+"Drop it into that vase," directed Bettie. "It seems a hundred miles
+to that cottage, and I'll never have legs enough to walk so far."
+
+"Two are enough," encouraged Jean.
+
+"Both of mine," mourned Bettie, displaying a wrinkled stocking,
+"wouldn't make a whole one."
+
+"Mrs. Slater wants to take you to drive every day, just as soon as you
+are able to wear clothes. She told me to tell you."
+
+"It seems a fearfully long way to the stepping stone," sighed Bettie.
+"Go home, please. It's makes me tired to _think_ of driving."
+
+"There's certainly something amiss with Bettie," said Dr. Bennett, when
+told of this interview. "Some little spring in her seems broken. We
+must find it and mend it or we won't have any Bettie."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+An April Harvest
+
+
+SPRING is an unknown season in Lakeville. But if one waits sufficiently
+long, there comes at last a period known as the breaking of winter.
+Since, owing to the heavy snows of January, February and March, there
+is always a great deal of winter to break, the process is an extended
+and--to the "overshoed" young--a decidedly trying one. But even in
+northerly Lakeville there finally came an afternoon when the girls
+decided that the day was much too fine to be spent indoors; and that
+the hour had arrived when it would be safe to leave off rubbers. The
+snow had disappeared except in very shaded spots and the Bay was free
+of ice except for a line of white that showed far out beyond the
+intense blue. The sidewalks were comparatively dry, but streams of
+icy water gurgled merrily in the deep gutters that ran down all the
+sloping streets. Although this abundant moisture was only the result of
+melting snow in the hills back of Lakeville and possessed no beauty in
+itself, these impetuous streams gave forth pleasant springlike sounds
+and made one think sentimentally of babbling brooks, fresh clover and
+blossoms by the wayside. Yet one needed to draw pretty heavily on one's
+imagination to see either flowers or grass at that early date; but the
+_feel_ of them, as Jean said, was certainly in the air.
+
+"Let's walk down by Mrs. Malony's," suggested Mabel.
+
+"She doesn't milk at this time of day, does she?" queried Henrietta,
+cautiously.
+
+"We needn't go in," assured Mabel. "We'll just run down one hill and up
+the other; but it's always lovely to walk along the shore road. There's
+a sort of a side-walk--if folks aren't too particular."
+
+"Wouldn't it be beautiful," sighed Jean, "if Bettie could only come
+too? This air would do anybody good."
+
+"Yes," mourned Marjory, "nothing seems quite right without Bettie."
+
+The girls, a trifle saddened, went slowly down the hill.
+
+"We must certainly steer clear of Mrs. Malony," warned Henrietta, as
+the egg-woman's house became visible. "Another dose of her hot milk
+would drive me from Lakeville."
+
+"There she is now!" exclaimed Mabel. "I recognize her by her cow; she's
+driving it home."
+
+"Perhaps it ran away to look for summer," offered Marjory. "The lady
+seems displeased with her pet."
+
+"An' how are the darlin' childer?" cried Mrs. Malony, greeting her
+friends while yet a long way off. "'Tis a sight for a quane to see, so
+manny purty lasses. But where's me little black-oiyed Bettie--there's
+the swate choild for yez? Sure Oi heard she was loike to die, wan
+while back. Betther, is ut? Thot's good, thot's good. An' wud yez
+belave ut, Miss Mabel,--'tis fatter than iver yez are, Oi see--Oi had
+yez in me moind all this blissid day."
+
+"Why?" asked Mabel, rather coldly.
+
+"Well, 'twas loike this, darlin'," explained Mrs. Malony, dropping her
+voice to a more confidential tone and nodding significantly toward a
+distant chimney. "'Twas siven o'clock the mornin' whin Oi seen smoke
+risin' from the shanty beyant. All day Oi've been moinded to be goin'
+acrost the p'int an' lookin' in at thot windy to see if 'twas thot
+big-eyed Frinch wan come back wid the spring."
+
+"You don't mean Rosa Marie's mother!" gasped Mabel.
+
+"Thot same," proceeded Mrs. Malony, calmly. "But what wid Malony
+white-washin' me kitchen, an' me pesky hins walkin' in me parlor and me
+cow breakin' down me fince, sure Oi've had no toime to be traipsin'
+about."
+
+"Couldn't you go now?" queried Jean, eagerly. "If it _is_ that woman we
+ought to know it."
+
+"Wait till Oi toi up me cow," consented Mrs. Malony.
+
+The four friends, with Mrs. Malony in tow, picked their way over the
+badly kept path that led to the shanty.
+
+"The door's been mended," announced observant Marjory.
+
+"It doesn't seem quite proper," said gentle-mannered Jean, "to peek
+into people's windows. Couldn't we knock and ask in a perfectly proper
+way to see the lady of the house?"
+
+"Sure we could thot," replied Mrs. Malony.
+
+"Do hurry!" urged Mabel, breathlessly.
+
+There was no response to Jean's rather nervous knock; but when Mrs.
+Malony applied her stout knuckles to the door there were results. The
+door was opened cautiously, just a tiny crack at first, then to its
+full extent. A dark-eyed woman with two thick braids falling over her
+shapely shoulders confronted them.
+
+She swept a mildly curious glance over Mrs. Malony, over Jean, over
+Marjory, over Henrietta. Then her splendid eyes fell upon Mabel; they
+changed instantaneously.
+
+In a twinkling the woman had brushed past the others to seize startled
+Mabel by both shoulders and to gaze piercingly into Mabel's frightened
+eyes. The woman tried to speak; but, for a long moment, her voice would
+not come.
+
+"You--you!" she gasped, clutching Mabel still more tightly, as if she
+feared that the youngster might escape. "Ees eet you for sure? But
+w'ere, w'ere----?"
+
+No further words would come. The poor creature's evident emotion was
+pitiful to see, and the girls were too overwhelmed to do more than
+stare with all their might.
+
+"Rosa Marie's all right," gulped Mabel, coming to the rescue with
+exactly the right words. "She's safe and happy."
+
+"Ma babee, ma babee," moaned the woman, her long-lashed eyes beaming
+with wonderful tenderness, and expressive of intense longing. "Bring me
+to heem queek--ah, so queek as evaire you can. Ma babee--I want heem
+queek."
+
+Then, without stopping for outer garments or even to close her door,
+and still holding fast to the abductor of Rosa Marie, the woman
+hurriedly led the way from the clearing.
+
+Mrs. Malony would have remained with the party if she had not
+encountered her frolicsome cow, a section of fence-rail dangling from
+her neck, strolling off toward town.
+
+On the way up the long hill the woman, who still possessed all the
+beauty and the "mother-looks" that Mabel had described, talked volubly
+in French, in Chippewa Indian and in broken English. As Henrietta was
+able to understand some of the French and part of the English, the
+girls were able to make out almost two-thirds of what she was saying.
+
+On the day of Mabel's first visit the young mother had departed with
+her new husband, who, not wanting to be burdened with a step-child,
+had persuaded her to abandon Rosa Marie, for whom she had subsequently
+mourned without ceasing. As might have been expected, the man had
+proved unkind. He had beaten her, half starved her and finally deserted
+her. She had worked all winter for sufficient money to carry her to
+Lakeville and had waited impatiently--all that time without news of her
+baby--for mild weather in order that the shanty, the only home that she
+knew, might become habitable.
+
+The hill was steep and long, but all five hastened toward the top.
+Marjory ran ahead to ring the Black-Crane door-bell. Mabel piloted the
+trembling mother straight to the nursery. Jean, learning from Martin
+where to look for Mrs. Crane, ran to fetch her.
+
+Rosa Marie, in her little chair and placidly stringing beads, looked
+up as unconcernedly as if it were an ordinary occasion. The woman,
+uttering broken, incoherent sounds sped across the big room, dropped to
+her knees and flung her arms about Rosa Marie. Then, for many moments,
+her face buried in Rosa Marie's neck, the only-half-civilized mother
+sobbed unrestrainedly.
+
+The child, however, gazed stolidly over her mother's shoulder at the
+other visitors, all of whom were much more moved than she. Mrs. Crane,
+indeed, was shedding tears and even Mr. Black seemed touched. As for
+Mabel, that sympathetic young person was weeping both visibly and
+audibly, without exactly knowing why.
+
+Since the repentant mother, who refused to let her baby out of her arms
+for a single moment, begged to be allowed to take Rosa Marie to the
+shanty that very night, Mrs. Crane, aided by the willing girls and Mr.
+Black, did what they could toward making the place comfortable.
+
+After Martin and Mr. Black had carried a whole motor-carful of bedding,
+food and fuel to the shanty, the now radiant mother, Rosa Marie, her
+toys, her clothes and all her belongings, were likewise transported
+to the humble lakeside dwelling. Everybody was so busy and the whole
+affair was over so quickly that no one had time for regrets.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, wonderingly, "I ought to feel as if I'd
+lost something. Instead, I'm all of a whirl."
+
+"I said," Mabel triumphed, "that she'd come back."
+
+Jean was commissioned to go the next morning to break the news to
+Bettie. It seemed to Dr. Bennett and to the hopeful Cottagers that this
+important happening would surely rouse the listless little maid if
+anything could. Mr. Black, who arrived with a great bunch of violets
+while Jean was telling the wonderful tale as graphically as she could,
+expectantly watched Bettie's pale countenance. Her wistful, weary eyes
+brightened for a moment and a faint, tender smile flickered across her
+lips.
+
+"I'm glad," said she. "Now Mrs. Crane won't have to have whooping cough
+and all the other things."
+
+"Mrs. Crane is going to find work for Rosa Marie's mother," announced
+Jean, "and the shanty is to be mended."
+
+"That's nice," returned Bettie, who, however, no longer seemed
+interested in Rosa Marie's mother. "But my ears are tired now; don't
+tell me any more."
+
+After this failure, Mr. Black followed crestfallen Jean downstairs; he
+drew her into the shabby Rectory parlor.
+
+"Now, Jean," demanded he, sternly, "is there a solitary thing in this
+whole world that Bettie wants? Is there anything that could _possibly_
+happen that would wake her up and bring her back? I'm dreadfully afraid
+she's slipping away from us, Jean; and she's far too precious to lose.
+Now think--think _hard_, little girl. Has she _ever_ wanted anything?"
+
+"Why," responded Jean, slowly, as if some outside force were dragging
+the words from her, "right after Christmas there _was_ something, I
+think. A big, impossible something that _nobody_ could possibly help.
+She didn't talk about it--and yet--and yet---- Perhaps she did worry."
+
+"Go on," insisted Mr. Black, "I want it all."
+
+"She seemed to get used to the idea so--so uncomplainingly. Still, she
+may have cared more than anybody suspected. She's _like_ that--never
+cries when she's hurt."
+
+"What idea?" demanded Mr. Black. "Cared for what? Make it clear,
+child."
+
+"You see," explained Jean, "all of us--Henrietta, Marjory, Mabel
+and I--have been talking a great deal about going away to boarding
+school--we're all going. But Bettie--Bettie, of course, knew that she
+couldn't go. There was no money and her father said----"
+
+"And why in thunder," shouted Mr. Black, forgetting the invalid and
+striding up and down the room with his fists clenched, "didn't somebody
+say so? What do folks think the good Lord _gave_ us money for? Why
+didn't--Come upstairs. We'll settle this thing right now."
+
+Impulsive Mr. Black, with dazed Jean at his heels, opened Bettie's door
+and walked in. Bettie lifted her tired eyes in very mild astonishment.
+
+"Bad pennies," she smiled, "always come back. What's all the noise
+about?"
+
+"Bettie," demanded Mr. Black, "do you want to go away to school with
+those other girls next September?"
+
+Bettie opened her eyes wide. Jean said afterwards that she "pricked up
+her ears," too.
+
+"Because," continued Mr. Black, keeping a sharp watch on Bettie's
+awakening countenance, "you're going. And if _I_ say you're going, you
+surely are. Now, don't worry about it--the thing's settled. You're
+going with the others."
+
+"Open the windows," pleaded Bettie, her face alight with some of the
+old-time eagerness. "I want to see how it smells outdoors."
+
+"I believe we've done it," breathed Jean. "She looks a lot brighter."
+
+And they had. No one had realized how tender, uncomplaining Bettie had
+dreaded losing her friends. And in her weakened state, both before and
+after the fever, the trouble had seemed very big. The load had almost
+crushed sick little Bettie. Now that it was lifted, and it was, for
+Mr. Black swept everything before him, there was nothing to keep the
+little girl from getting well with truly gratifying speed.
+
+"Bettie," asked Dr. Bennett, the next evening, "are you sure this is
+your own pulse? If it is, it's behaving properly at last."
+
+"She ate every bit of her supper," said Mrs. Tucker, happily, "and she
+asked, this afternoon, if she owned any shoes. She's really getting
+well."
+
+"I'm hurrying," laughed happy Bettie, "to make up for lost time. Do
+give me things to make me fat--as fat as Mabel."
+
+"She's certainly better," said the satisfied doctor. "By to-morrow
+we'll have to tie her down to keep her from dancing. She's our own
+Bettie, at last."
+
+    THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Punctuation errors repaired. Varied hyphenation retained.
+
+Front page description, "Scovill" changed to "Scovel" (Florence Scovel
+Shinn)
+
+Page 96, "Bennettt" changed to "Bennett" (Mrs. Bennett, rescuing)
+
+Page 165, "shruddered" changed to "shuddered" ("Ugh!" shuddered Marjory)
+
+Page 214, repeated word "a" removed from text. Original read (like a a
+lobster's)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by 
+Carroll Watson Rankin
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by Carroll Watson Rankin.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+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 Adopting of Rosa Marie
+       A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage
+
+Author: Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+Illustrator: Florence Scovel Shinn
+             Miriam Selss
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2014 [EBook #46059]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Beth Baran, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
+Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 509px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="509" height="800" alt="cover" />
+</div>
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+
+
+<div class='bbox'>
+<div class='maintitle'>THE ADOPTING
+OF ROSA MARIE</div>
+
+<p class='center'>
+<i>by</i><br />
+CARROLL WATSON RANKIN<br />
+<br />
+<i>Illustrated by</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Florence Scovel Shinn</span><br />
+<br />
+<i>Frontispiece and jacket in full<br />
+color by</i> <span class="smcap">Miriam Selss</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>In this charming girl's book we meet
+again the four chums of <i>Dandelion
+Cottage</i>. Their friendship knit closer
+than ever by their summer at playing
+house, the girls enlarge their activity
+by mothering a pretty little Indian
+baby.</p>
+
+<p>"Those who have read <i>Dandelion
+Cottage</i> will need no urge to follow
+further.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. A lovable group of four
+children, happily not perfect, but full
+of girlish plans and pranks and a delightful
+sense of humor."</p>
+
+<p class='right'>
+&mdash;<i>Boston Transcript.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Just the type of book that every girl
+<i>from eight to fifteen</i> enjoys.</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"><a id="frontispiece"></a>
+<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="403" height="600" alt="girl pointing at baby in grass" />
+<div class="caption">"MY SOUL, WHAT ARE YOU, ANYWAY?"</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class='center'><b><span class='u'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dandelion Series&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></b></p>
+
+
+<h1>THE ADOPTING OF<br />
+ROSA MARIE</h1>
+
+<p class='center'>(<i>A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage</i>)<br /><br />
+
+<br />
+BY<br />
+
+<span class='author'>CARROLL WATSON RANKIN</span><br />
+
+<span class='authorof'>Author of "Dandelion Cottage," "The Girls of<br />
+Gardenville," etc.</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<i>With Illustrations by</i><br />
+<small>FLORENCE SCOVEL SHINN</small><br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="112" height="139" alt="emblem" />
+</div>
+
+<p class='center'><br /><br />
+<small>NEW YORK</small><br />
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br />
+</p>
+<hr class="chap" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<p class='copyright'>
+COPYRIGHT, 1908,<br />
+BY<br />
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+COPYRIGHT, 1936,<br />
+BY<br />
+CARROLL WATSON RANKIN<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+PRINTED IN THE<br />
+UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class='center'>
+TO<br />
+<br />
+EMILY, PHYLLIS, POLLY<br />
+AND SUZANNE<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a><br /><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<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.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Borrowed Babies</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">II.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Rosa Marie</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">III.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mabel's Day</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">IV.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Unusual Evening</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">V.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Returning Rosa Marie</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">VI.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Dark Secret</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">VII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Discovery</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">VIII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Fugitive Soldier</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">IX.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Surprise</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">X.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Breaking the News</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XI.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Alarm</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Fire</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XIII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Heroine's Come-Down</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XIV.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Birthday Party</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XV.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Unexpected Treat</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XVI.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Scattered School</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XVII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Invitation</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XVIII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Obeying Instructions</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XIX.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">With Henrietta</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_173">173</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XX.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Call Returned</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXI.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Getting Even</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Full Afternoon</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXIII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Taking a Walk</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXIV.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Statue from India</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXV.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Comparing Notes</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXVI.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Christmas Eve</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXVII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Crowded Day</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXVIII.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Bettie-less Plan</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXIX.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Anxious Days</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="right">XXX.&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An April Harvest</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE PERSONS OF THE STORY</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="cast">
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'><span class="smcap">Bettie Tucker</span>,</td>
+<td align="left">aged 12:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br bt'>&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan='4'>&nbsp;The Cottagers</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'><span class="smcap">Jeanie Mapes</span>,</td>
+<td align="left">aged 14:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'><span class="smcap">Marjory Vale</span>,</td>
+<td align="left">aged 12:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'><span class="smcap">Mabel Bennett</span>,&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left">aged 11:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br bb'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Rosa Marie</span>: The Unreturnable Baby.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">The Mother of Rosa Marie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="cast">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Anne Halliday</span>:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br bt'>&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left" colspan='3' rowspan='3'>&nbsp;Borrowed Babies.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Marcotte Twins</span>:</td><td align="left" class='br'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Little Tuckers</span>:</td><td align="left" class='br bb'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Henrietta Bedford</span>: The New Girl.</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="cast">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Howard Slater</span>:</td>
+<td align="left" class='br bt'>&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="left" colspan='3' rowspan='3'>&nbsp;Of Henrietta's Household.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Simmons</span>:</td><td align="left" class='br bb'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="cast">
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">The Janitor</span>: An Unappreciated Hero.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Dr. Tucker</span>: A Clergyman with More Children than Money.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Dr. Bennett</span>: A Physician.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Mr. Black</span>: A Friend to Children.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Crane</span>: His Sister.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Aunty Jane</span>: Marjory's Sole Visible Relative.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Some Mothers and Brothers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left" colspan='6'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Malony</span>: The Light-hearted Egg-woman.</td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a><br /><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">My soul, what are you, anyway</span></td>
+<td align="right"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Rosa Marie and the sidewalk were one</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The sturdy fellow carried her out of the room</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The decidedly depressed four started down the street</span></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">Another 'eathen God from Hindia</span>"</td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE ADOPTING OF ROSA
+MARIE</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I<br />
+
+<small>Borrowed Babies</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE oldest inhabitant said that Lakeville
+was experiencing an unusual fall.
+He would probably have said the same thing
+if the high-perched town had accidentally
+tumbled off the bluff into the blue lake; but
+in this instance, he referred merely to the
+weather, which was certainly unusually mild
+for autumn.</p>
+
+<p>It was not, however, the oldest, but four
+of the youngest citizens that rejoiced most
+in this unusual prolonging of summer; for
+the continued warm weather made it possible
+for those devoted friends, Jean Mapes, Marjory
+Vale, Mabel Bennett and little Bettie
+Tucker, to spend many a delightful hour in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
+their precious Dandelion Cottage, the real,
+tumble-down house that was now, after so
+many narrow escapes, safely their very own.
+Some day, to be sure, it would be torn down
+to make room for a habitable dwelling, but
+that unhappy day was still too remote to
+cause any uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, when very cold weather should
+come, it would be necessary to close the beloved
+Cottage, for there was no heating
+plant, there were many large cracks over and
+under the doors and around the windows;
+and by lying very flat on the dining-room
+floor and peering under the baseboards, one
+could easily see what was happening in the
+next yard. These, and other defects, would
+surely make the little house uninhabitable in
+winter; but while the unexpectedly extended
+summer lasted, the Cottagers were rejoicing
+over every pleasant moment of weather and
+praying hard for other pleasant moments.</p>
+
+<p>Of all the games played in Dandelion Cottage,
+the one called "Mother" was the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
+popular. To play it, it was necessary, first of
+all, to divide the house into four equal parts.
+As there were five rooms, this division might
+seem to offer no light task; but, by first subtracting
+the kitchen, it was possible to solve
+this difficult mathematical problem to the
+Cottagers' entire satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>But of course one can't play "Mother"
+without possessing a family. The Cottagers
+solved this problem also. Bettie's home
+could always be counted on to furnish at
+least two decidedly genuine babies and Jean
+could always borrow a perfectly delightful
+little cousin named Anne Halliday; but Marjory
+and Mabel, to their sorrow, were absolutely
+destitute of infantile relatives. Mabel
+was the chief sufferer. Sedate Marjory,
+plausible of tongue, convincing in manner,
+could easily accumulate a most attractive
+family at very short notice by the simple expedient
+of borrowing babies from the next
+block; but nowhere within reasonable reach
+was there a mother willing to intrust her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+precious offspring a second time to heedless
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mabel," Mrs. Mercer would say,
+when Mabel pleaded to have young Percival
+for her very own for just one brief hour,
+"I'd really like to oblige you, but it's getting
+late in the season, you are not careful enough
+about doors and windows and the last time
+you borrowed Percival you brought him
+home with a stiff neck that lasted three
+days."</p>
+
+<p>"But I did remember to return him,"
+pleaded Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you sometimes forget?" queried
+Mrs. Mercer, with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"I did twice," confessed always honest
+Mabel; "but truly I don't see how <i>I</i> can help
+it when babies sleep and sleep and sleep the
+way those two did. You see, I made a bed
+for Gerald Price on the lowest-down closet
+shelf, and he was so perfectly comfortable
+that he thought he was asleep for all night."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the other time?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That was Mollie Dixon. But then, I had
+five children that day and only one bed.
+Mollie slipped down in the crack at the back&mdash;she's
+awfully thin&mdash;and I never missed
+her until her mother came after her. That
+was rather a bad time [Mabel sighed at the
+recollection] for Mrs. Dixon found the Cottage
+locked up for the night and poor little
+Mollie crying under the bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel! And you want to borrow my
+precious Percival!"</p>
+
+<p>"But it couldn't happen <i>again</i>," protested
+Mabel, earnestly. "Bettie says that
+I'm just like lightning; I never strike twice
+in the same place. That's the reason I get
+into so many different kinds of scrapes. I'll
+be ever so careful, though, if you'll let me
+borrow Percival just this one time."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mercer, however, refused to part
+with Percival. Other mothers, approached
+by pleading Mabel, refused likewise to intrust
+their babies to her enthusiastic but
+heedless keeping. They knew her too well.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The thing for you to do," suggested
+Marjory, ostentatiously washing the perfectly
+clean faces of the four delightful
+small persons that she had been able, without
+any trouble at all, to borrow in Blaker Street,
+"is to find a mother that really <i>wants</i> to get
+rid of her children."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Bob Tucker, who had dropped
+in to deliver the basket of apples that Mrs.
+Crane had sent to her former neighbors,
+"you ought to advertise for the kind of
+mother that feeds her babies to crocodiles.
+Perhaps some of them have emigrated to
+this country and sort of miss the Ganges
+River."</p>
+
+<p>"You might try the orphan asylum," offered
+Jean, as balm for this wound. "It's
+only four blocks from here."</p>
+
+<p>"I have," returned Mabel, dejectedly.
+"I went there early this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?" demanded Bettie,
+who had just arrived with a little Tucker
+under each arm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They said they'd let them go 'permanently
+to responsible parties.' I didn't
+know just exactly what that meant, so I
+said: 'Does that mean that you'll lend me a
+few for two hours?'"</p>
+
+<p>"And would they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they didn't. They said I'd better
+borrow a Teddy bear."</p>
+
+<p>"How mean," said sympathetic Bettie.
+"Nevermind, I'll lend you Peter, this time."</p>
+
+<p>"Say," queried Mabel, after she had accepted
+Bettie's proffered brother, "what
+does 'permanently' mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"For keeps," explained Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"What are 'responsible parties'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jean and Bettie and I," twinkled Marjory,
+"but not you."</p>
+
+<p>"That's good," laughed Bob, who, like
+Marjory, loved to tease. "But never mind,
+Mabel. After you've practised a year or
+two on Peter, who's a nuisance if there ever
+was one, you'll find yourself growing
+respons&mdash;&mdash; Whoop! What was that?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That" was a sudden crash that resounded
+through the house. Everybody
+rushed to the kitchen. The big dish-pan
+that Mabel had left on the edge of the
+kitchen table was upside down on the floor.
+At least half of little Peter Tucker was under
+it. But the half that remained outside was
+so unmistakably alive that nobody felt very
+seriously alarmed&mdash;except Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank goodness!" said Mabel, removing
+the pan, "this is just a little Tucker and
+not any Percival Mercer! Cheer up, Peter.
+You're not as wet as you think you are.
+There wasn't more than a quart of water in
+that pan and it was almost perfectly clean."</p>
+
+<p>And Peter, soothed by Mabel's reassuring
+tone, immediately cheered up.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER II<br />
+
+<small>Rosa Marie</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>NOT long after Mabel's ineffectual attempt
+to borrow an orphan Mrs.
+Bennett dispatched her small daughter to
+Lake Street to find out, if possible, why Mrs.
+Malony, the poultry woman, had failed to
+send the week's supply of fresh eggs.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the way to Mrs. Malony's was most
+interesting, particularly to a young person
+of observing habits. There were houses on
+only one side of the street and most of those
+were tumbling down under the weight of
+the sand that each rain carried down the
+hillside. But the opposite side of the road
+was even more attractive, for there one had
+a grassy, shrubby bank where one could pick
+all sorts of things off bushes and get burrs
+in one's stockings; a narrow stretch of
+pebbled beach where one could sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
+find an agate, and a wide basin of very shallow
+water where one could almost&mdash;but not
+quite&mdash;step from stone to stone without
+wetting one's feet. It was certainly an enjoyable
+spot. The distance from Mabel's
+home to Mrs. Malony's was very short&mdash;a
+matter of perhaps five blocks. But if a body
+went the longest way round, stopped to scour
+the green bank for belated blackberries,
+prickly hazelnuts, dazzling golden-rod or
+rare four-leaved clovers; or loitered to
+gather a dress-skirtful of stony treasures
+from the glittering beach, going to Mrs.
+Malony's meant a great deal more than a
+five blocks' journey.</p>
+
+<p>Just a little beyond the poultry woman's
+house, on the lake side of the straggling
+street, a small, but decidedly attractive point
+of land jutted waterward for perhaps two
+hundred feet. On this projecting point
+stood a small shanty or shack, built, as Mabel
+described it later, mostly of knot-holes. She
+meant, without knowing how to say it, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
+the lumber in the hut was of the poorest
+possible quality.</p>
+
+<p>On this long-to-be-remembered day, a
+small object moving in the clearing that surrounded
+the shack attracted Mabel's attention.
+Curiosity led her closer to investigate.</p>
+
+<p>"It's just as I thought!" exclaimed
+Mabel, peering rapturously through the
+bushes. "It's a real baby!"</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough! It <i>was</i> a baby.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel edged closer, moving cautiously for
+fear of frightening her unexpected find.
+She saw a small toddler, aged somewhere
+between two and three years, roving aimlessly
+about the chip-strewn clearing. The
+child's round cheeks, chubby wrists, bare feet
+and sturdy legs were richly brown. A
+straggling fringe of jet-black hair overhung
+the stout baby's black, beadlike eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Near the doorway of the rickety shack a
+man, half French, half Indian, stood talking
+earnestly and with many gesticulations to
+a dark-skinned woman, framed by the doorway.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+The woman had large black eyes,
+shaded by very long black lashes. She wore
+her rather coarse black hair in two long,
+thick braids that hung in front of her straight
+shoulders. In spite of her dark color, her
+worn shoes, her ragged, untidy gown, she
+seemed to Mabel an exceedingly pretty
+woman. The man, too, was handsome, after
+a bold, picturesque fashion; but the woman
+was the more pleasing.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel approached timidly. She felt that
+she was intruding.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning," said she, ingratiatingly.
+"Is this your little boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Him girl," returned the woman, with a
+sudden flash of white teeth between parted
+crimson lips. "Name Rosa Marie. Yes,
+him <i>ma petite</i> daughtaire. You like the
+looks on him, hey?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, so much," cried Mabel, impulsively.
+"Oh, <i>would</i> you do me a favor?"</p>
+
+<p>"A favaire," repeated the woman, with a
+puzzled glance. "W'at ees a favaire?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>would</i> you lend your baby to me?
+Would you let me have her to play with
+for&mdash;&mdash; Oh, for all day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here?" queried the mother, doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not here. In my own home&mdash;up
+there, on the hill. <i>Could</i> I keep her until
+six o'clock? I just adore babies, and she's
+so fat and cunning! Oh, please, <i>please</i>!
+I'd be just awfully obliged."</p>
+
+<p>A look of understanding flashed suddenly
+between the man and the woman; but Mabel,
+stooping to make friends with little Rosa
+Marie, did not observe it.</p>
+
+<p>"Your fodder 'ave nice house, plainty
+food, plainty money?" queried the woman,
+running a speculative eye over Mabel's plain
+but substantial wardrobe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes," returned Mabel, thoughtlessly.
+"And besides I have a playhouse. That is,
+it isn't exactly mine, but I just about live in
+it with three other girls, and that's where I
+want to take Rosa Marie. I'll be awfully
+careful of her if you'll only let me take her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+Oh, <i>do</i> you think she'll come with me?
+Couldn't you <i>tell</i> her to?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman, bending to look into Rosa
+Marie's black eyes, talked loudly and rapidly
+in some foreign tongue. The mother's voice
+was harsh, but her eyes, Mabel noticed,
+seemed soft and tender, and much more
+beautiful than Rosa Marie's.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the woman, turning to
+Mabel and speaking in broken English, "eef
+you want her, you must go at once. Go now,
+I tell you. Go queek, queek! Pull hard eef
+she ees drag behind. But go, I tell
+you, <i>go</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>The voice rose to an unpleasant, almost
+too stirring pitch that jarred suddenly on
+Mabel's nerves; but, obeying these hasty instructions,
+the little girl drew Rosa Marie
+out of the inclosure, led her across the street
+and lifted her to the sidewalk. Looking
+back from the slight elevation, Mabel
+noticed that the man was again talking
+earnestly and gesticulating excitedly; while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+the woman, once more framed by the doorway,
+followed, with her big black eyes, the
+chubby figure of Rosa Marie.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll bring her back all safe and sound,"
+shouted Mabel, over her shoulder. "Don't
+be afraid. Good-by, until six o'clock!"</p>
+
+<p>Escorting Rosa Marie to Dandelion Cottage
+proved no light task. Her legs were
+very short, it soon became evident that she
+was not accustomed to using them for walking
+purposes, the way was mostly uphill
+and the little brown feet were bare. At first
+Mabel led, coaxed and encouraged with the
+utmost patience; but presently Rosa Marie
+sat heavily on the sidewalk and refused to
+rise. That is, she didn't <i>say</i> that she
+wouldn't rise. She remained sitting with
+such firmness of purpose that it seemed
+hopeless to attempt to break her of the habit.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel walked round and round her firmly
+seated charge in helpless despair. Rosa
+Marie and the sidewalk were one.</p>
+
+<p>"Want any help?" asked a friendly voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+It belonged to a large, freckled boy who was
+carrying two pails of water from the lake
+to one of the tumble-down houses.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 315px;">
+<img src="images/i034.jpg" width="315" height="500" alt="Toddler on sidewalk with girl trying to lift her" />
+<div class="caption">ROSA MARIE AND THE SIDEWALK WERE ONE.</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do," responded Mabel, promptly.
+"If you could just lift this child high
+enough for me to get hold of her I think I
+could carry her."</p>
+
+<p>So the boy, setting his pails down, obligingly
+lifted Rosa Marie's solid little person,
+Mabel clasped the barrel-shaped body closely,
+and, after a word of thanks to the kind boy,
+proceeded homeward. But even now her
+troubles were not ended. By silently refusing
+to cuddle, Rosa Marie converted herself
+into a most uncomfortable burden. Her entire
+body was a silent protest against leaving
+her home.</p>
+
+<p>"Do make yourself soft and bunchy,"
+pleaded Mabel, giving Rosa Marie sundry
+pokes, calculated to make her double up like
+a jack-knife. "Here, bend this way. <i>Haven't</i>
+you any joints anywhere? Do hold tight
+with your arms and legs. <i>This</i> way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+Pshaw! You're just like a stuffed crocodile.
+Well, <i>walk</i> then, if you can't hang on like a
+real child. There's one thing certain, you
+shan't sit down again. I s'pose we'll get
+there <i>sometime</i>."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III<br />
+
+<small>Mabel's Day</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>ALMOST hopeless as it seemed at times,
+Mabel and the silent brown baby
+finally reached Dandelion Cottage. There
+they found Jean, seated in a chair with her
+lovely little cousin Anne Halliday perched
+like a pink and white blossom on the edge
+of the dining table before her, tying Anne's
+bewitching yellow curls with wide pink
+ribbons. Anne was a perpetual delight, for,
+besides being a picture during every moment
+of the long day, her ways were so quaint
+and so attractive that no one could help
+admiring her.</p>
+
+<p>Marjory, her countenance carefully arranged
+to depict the deepest sorrow, stood
+guard over the Marcotte twins, who, touchingly
+covered with nasturtiums, were laid out
+on the parlor cozy corner, awaiting burial.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+Their blue eyes blinked and their pink toes
+twitched; but, on the whole, they played
+their parts in a most satisfactory manner.</p>
+
+<p>Bettie, with two small but attractive
+Tucker babies clinging to her brief skirts,
+was exclaiming: "These are my jewels,"
+when tired, dusty Mabel, pushing reluctant
+Rosa Marie before her, walked in.</p>
+
+<p>"For mercy's sake, what's that!" gasped
+Jean, sweeping Anne Halliday into her protecting
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Is&mdash;is it something the cat dragged in?"
+asked Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Is&mdash;<i>can</i> it be a <i>real</i> child?" demanded
+Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"This," announced Mabel, with dignity,
+"is <i>my</i> child. Her name is Rosa Marie&mdash;with
+all the distress on the <i>ee</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"The distress seems to be all over both
+of you," giggled Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"That's just dust," explained Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you both roll home like a pair of
+barrels?" queried Jean, "or did the Village<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+Improvement folks use you to dust the sidewalks?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with that child's complexion?"
+demanded Marjory. "Is she
+tanned?"</p>
+
+<p>"Coming home took long enough for us
+both to get tanned," returned Mabel, crossly,
+"but Rosa Marie's French, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"French! French nothing!" exclaimed
+Marjory. "She's nothing but a little wild
+Indian. Look at her hair. Look at her
+small black eyes. Look at her high cheekbones.
+Where in the world did you get
+her?"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel explained. For once, the girls
+listened with the most flattering attention.
+Anne Halliday bobbed her pretty head to
+punctuate each sentence, the Tucker babies
+stood in silence with their mouths open, even
+the nicely laid-out Marcotte twins on the
+sofa sat up to hear the tale.</p>
+
+<p>"And she's all mine until six o'clock,"
+concluded Mabel, triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If she were mine," said Jean, "I'd give
+her a bath."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd give her two," giggled Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>So Mabel, assisted by Jean, Marjory,
+Bettie, little Anne, the two Tucker babies
+and the now very much alive Marcotte twins
+gave Rosa Marie a bath in the dish-pan.
+Although they changed the water as fast as
+they could heat more in the tea-kettle,
+although they used a whole bar of strong
+yellow soap, two teaspoonfuls of washing
+powder and a <i>very</i> scratchy washcloth
+lathered with Sapolio, Rosa Marie, who bore
+it all with stolid patience, was still richly
+brown from head to heels, when she emerged
+from her bath.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's play Pocohontis!" cried Marjory,
+seizing the feather duster. "Put feathers
+in her hair and drape her in my brown petticoat.
+I'll be Captain John Smith in Bob
+Tucker's rubber boots."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't either," retorted Mabel, indignantly.
+"I guess, after I dragged this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+child all the way up here to play 'Mother'
+with, I'm not going to have her used for any
+old Pocohontises. She's my child, and I'm
+going to have the entire use of her while she
+lasts."</p>
+
+<p>"After all," replied Marjory, cuttingly,
+"I don't want her. I'm sure <i>I</i> wouldn't
+care for any of <i>that</i> colored children. The
+usual shade is quite good enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>But, while the novelty lasted and in spite
+of Marjory's declaration, Rosa Marie was a
+distinct success. Little Anne Halliday's
+cunningest ways and quaintest speeches went
+unheeded when Rosa Marie refused to wear
+shoes and stockings. She had never worn
+a shoe, and, without uttering a word, she
+made it plain that she had no intention of
+hampering her pudgy brown feet with the
+cast-off footgear of the young Tuckers.</p>
+
+<p>Neither would she wear clothes, until Jean
+showed her the solitary garment she had
+arrived in, now soaking in a pan of soapy
+water. After they had arrayed her in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+long-sleeved apron of Anne's&mdash;it didn't go
+round, but had to be helped out with a
+cheese-cloth duster&mdash;it was evident that the
+unaccustomed whiteness bothered her. She
+was not used to being so remarkably stiff
+and clean.</p>
+
+<p>The Marcotte twins, again prepared for
+burial, quarrelled most engagingly as to
+which should be buried under the apple-tree,
+both preferring that fruitful resting-place
+to the barren waste under the snowball
+bush; but nobody listened because Rosa
+Marie was doing extraordinary things with
+her bowl of bread and milk. Having
+lapped the milk like a cat, she was deftly
+chasing the crumbs round the bowl with a
+greedy and experienced tongue. It was
+plain that Rosa Marie had no table manners.</p>
+
+<p>As for the infantile Tuckers, they were
+an old story. On this occasion they
+crawled into the corner cupboard and went
+to sleep and nobody missed them for a whole
+hour, just because Rosa Marie was emitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+queer little startled grunts every time Marjory's
+best doll wailed "Mam-mah!" "Pap-pah!"
+for her benefit. There was no doubt
+about it, Rosa Marie was decidedly
+amusing.</p>
+
+<p>The day passed swiftly; much too swiftly,
+Mabel thought. Very much mothered
+Rosa Marie, who had obligingly consumed
+an amazing amount of milk&mdash;all, indeed,
+that the Cottagers had been able to procure&mdash;started
+homeward, towed by Mabel. That
+elated young person had declined all offers
+of company; she coveted the full glory of
+returning Rosa Marie to her rightful guardian.
+Mabel, indeed, was visibly swollen
+with pride. She had given the Cottagers a
+most unusual treat. She had not only surprised
+them by proving that she <i>could</i> borrow
+a baby, but had kept them amused and
+entertained every moment of the day. It
+had certainly been a red-letter day in the
+annals of Dandelion Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel more than half expected to meet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+Rosa Marie's mother at the very first corner.
+The other real mothers had always seemed
+desirous&mdash;over desirous, Mabel thought&mdash;of
+welcoming their home-coming babies back
+to the fold; but the mother of Rosa Marie,
+apparently, was of a less grudging disposition.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel laboriously escorted her reluctant
+charge to the very door of the shanty without
+encountering any welcoming parent.
+The borrower of Rosa Marie knocked. No
+one came. She tried the door. It was
+locked.</p>
+
+<p>"How queer!" said Mabel. "Seems to
+me I'd be on hand if I had an engagement at
+exactly six o'clock. But then, I always <i>am</i>
+late."</p>
+
+<p>Dragging an empty wooden box to the
+side of the house, Mabel climbed to the high,
+decidedly smudgy window and peered in.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one inside. There was no
+fire in the battered stove. The doors of a
+rough cupboard opposite the window stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+open, disclosing the fact that the cupboard
+was bare. There were no bedclothes in the
+rough bunk that served for a bed; no dishes
+on the table; no clothing hanging from the
+hooks on the wall. Both inside and outside
+the house wore a strangely deserted aspect.
+It seemed to say: "Nobody lives here now,
+nobody ever did live here, nobody ever will
+live here."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IV<br />
+
+<small>An Unusual Evening</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>MABEL looked in dismay at Rosa
+Marie.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you s'pose your mother is?"
+she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>It was useless, however, to question Rosa
+Marie. That stolid young person was as
+uncommunicative as what Marjory called
+"the little stuffed Indians in the Washington
+Museum." The Indians to whom Marjory
+referred were made of wax. Rosa
+Marie seemed more like a little wooden
+Indian. The countenance of little Anne
+Halliday changed with every moment; but
+Rosa Marie's wore only one expression.
+Perhaps it had only one to wear.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," said Mabel, gently shaking her
+small brown charge by the shoulders, "where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+does your mother usually go when she isn't
+home?"</p>
+
+<p>A surprised grunt was the only response.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie, too suddenly released, sat
+heavily on the ground, thoughtfully
+scratched up the surface and filled her lap
+with handfuls of loose, unattractive earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness! What an untidy child!"
+cried Mabel, snatching her up and shaking
+her, although Rosa Marie's weight made her
+youthful guardian stagger. "I wanted
+your mother to see you clean, for once.
+Here, sit on this stick of wood. I s'pose
+we'll just have to wait and wait until somebody
+comes. Well, <i>sit</i> in the sand if you
+want to. I'm tired of picking you up."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie's home was in rather an attractive
+spot. The big, quiet lake was
+smooth as glass, and every object along its
+picturesque bank was mirrored faithfully in
+the quiet depths. The western sky was
+faintly tinged with red. Against it the
+spires and tall roofs of the town stood out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+sharply; but at this quiet hour they seemed
+very far away.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel, seated on the wooden box that she
+had placed under the window, leaned back
+against the house and clasped her hands
+about her knees, while she gazed dreamily
+at the picture and listened with enjoyment
+to the faint lap of the quiet water on the
+pebbled beach.</p>
+
+<p>Both Mabel and Rosa Marie had had a
+busy day. Both had taken unusual exercise.
+And now all the sights and sounds were
+soothing, soothing.</p>
+
+<p>You can guess what happened. Both little
+girls fell asleep. Rosa Marie, flat on her
+stomach, pillowed her head on her chubby
+arms. Mabel's head, drooping slowly forward,
+grew heavier and heavier until finally
+it touched her knees.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, the sleepy head had grown
+so very heavy that it pulled Mabel right off
+the box and tumbled her over in a confused,
+astonished heap on the ground.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My goodness!" gasped Mabel, still on
+hands and knees. "Where am I, anyway?
+Is this Saturday or Sunday? Why! It's all
+dark. This&mdash;this isn't my room&mdash;why!
+why! I'm outdoors! How did I get outdoors?"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel stood up, took a step forward,
+stumbled over Rosa Marie and went down
+on all-fours.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that!" gasped bewildered Mabel,
+groping with her hands. She felt the rough
+black head, the plump body, the round legs,
+the bare feet of her sleeping charge.
+Memory returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Why! It's Rosa Marie, and we're waiting
+here by the lake for her mother. It&mdash;ugh!
+It must be midnight!"</p>
+
+<p>But it wasn't. It was just exactly twenty
+minutes after seven o'clock but, with the
+autumn sun gone early to bed, it certainly
+seemed very much later. The house was
+still deserted.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," said Mabel, feeling about in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+the dark for Rosa Marie's fat hand, "we'd
+better go home&mdash;or some place. Come,
+Rosa Marie, wake up. I'm going to take
+you home with me. Oh, <i>please</i> wake up.
+There's nobody here but us. It's way in the
+middle of the night and there might be <i>any</i>thing
+in those awfully black bushes."</p>
+
+<p>But Rosa Marie, deprived of her noontide
+nap, slumbered on. Mabel shook her.</p>
+
+<p>"Do hurry," pleaded frightened Mabel.
+"I don't like it here."</p>
+
+<p>It was anything but an easy task for Mabel
+to drag the sleeping child to her feet, but she
+did it. Rosa Marie, however, immediately
+dropped to earth again. During the day she
+had seemed stiff; but now, unfortunately,
+she proved most distressingly limber. She
+seemed, in fact, to possess more than the
+usual number of joints, and discouraged
+Mabel began to fear that each joint was reversible.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" breathed Mabel, when Rosa
+Marie's knees failed for the seventh time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+"it seems wicked to shake you <i>very</i> hard,
+but I've got to."</p>
+
+<p>Even with vigorous and prolonged shakings
+it took time to get Rosa Marie firmly
+established on her feet, and the children had
+walked more than a block of the homeward
+way before Rosa Marie opened one blinking
+eye under the street lamp.</p>
+
+<p>If it had been difficult to make the uphill
+journey in broad daylight with Rosa Marie
+wide awake and moderately willing, it was
+now a doubly difficult matter with that young
+person half or three-quarters asleep and most
+decidedly unwilling.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to goodness," grumbled Mabel,
+stumbling along in the dark, "that I'd borrowed
+a real baby and not a heathen."</p>
+
+<p>The longest journey has an end. The
+children reached Dandelion Cottage at last.
+Mabel found the key, unlocked the door,
+tumbled Rosa Marie, clothes and all, into the
+middle of the spare-room bed; waited just
+long enough to make certain that the Indian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+baby slept; then, reassured by gentle, half-breed
+snores, Mabel, still supposing the time
+to be midnight, ran home, climbed into her
+own bed nearly an hour earlier than usual
+and was soon sound asleep. Her mind was
+too full of other matters to wonder why the
+front door was unlocked at so late an hour.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Bennett, dressing to go to a party,
+heard her daughter come in.</p>
+
+<p>"How fortunate!" said she. "Now I
+shan't have to go to Jean's and Marjory's
+and Bettie's to hunt for Mabel. She must
+be tired to-night&mdash;she doesn't often go to
+bed so early."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER V<br />
+
+<small>Returning Rosa Marie</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>EARLY the next morning, Jean, needing
+her thimble to sew on a vitally necessary
+button, ran to the supposedly empty cottage
+to get it. Taking the short cut through
+the Tuckers' back yard she found Bettie
+feeding Billy, the seagull, one of Bob's
+numerous pets.</p>
+
+<p>"Billy always wakes everybody up crying
+for his breakfast," explained thoughtful little
+Bettie. "Bob's spending a week at the
+Ormsbees' camp, so I have to get up to feed
+Billy so father can sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't the other boys do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy! <i>They'd</i> sleep through anything.
+Going to the Cottage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, come with me," returned Jean,
+"while I get my thimble. It's so big that it
+almost takes two to carry it."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All right," laughed Bettie, crawling
+through the hole in the fence.</p>
+
+<p>Jean's thimble was a standing joke. A
+stout and prudent godmother had bestowed
+a very large one on the little girl so that Jean
+would be in no danger of outgrowing the
+gift. Jean was now living in hopes of sometime
+growing big enough to fit the thimble.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" exclaimed Jean, after a brief
+search, "the key isn't under the doormat!
+Where do you s'pose it's gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here it is in the door. But how in the
+world did it get there? I locked that door
+myself last night and tucked the key under
+the mat. I <i>know</i> I did."</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you do it," corroborated Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps Marjory's inside."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't Mabel, anyway. She's always
+the last one up."</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy me!" cried Bettie, who had been
+peeking into the different rooms to see if
+Marjory were inside. "Come here, Jean.
+Just look at this!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"This" was brown little Rosa Marie sitting
+up in the middle of the pink and white
+spare-room bed, like, as Bettie put it, a brown
+bee in the heart of a rose. Her small dark
+countenance was absolutely expressionless, so
+there was no way of discovering what <i>she</i>
+thought about it all.</p>
+
+<p>"My sakes!" exclaimed Jean, with indignation,
+"that lazy Mabel never took her
+home, after all! Why! We'll have a whole
+band of wild Indians coming to scalp us
+right after breakfast! How <i>could</i> she have
+been so careless. This is the worst she's
+done yet."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's just like Mabel," said Bettie,
+giving vent, for once, to her disapproval of
+Mabel's thoughtlessness. "She likes things
+ever so much at first. Then she simply forgets
+that they ever existed."</p>
+
+<p>"Who forgets?" demanded Mabel, bouncing
+in at the front door.</p>
+
+<p>"You," returned Jean and Bettie, with
+one accusing voice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Prove it."</p>
+
+<p>"You forgot to take Rosa Marie home
+last night."</p>
+
+<p>"I never did. I took her every inch of
+the way home, stayed with her all alone in
+the dark for pretty nearly a <i>year</i>, and then
+had to bring her all the way back again,
+walking in her sleep. So there, now!"</p>
+
+<p>"But why in the world didn't you leave
+her with her own folks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Her horrid mother wasn't there. And
+between 'em, I didn't get any supper and
+only a little sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are you going to do?" queried
+astonished Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"After she drinks this quart of milk," explained
+Mabel, "I'm going to take her home
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you get so much milk?"
+asked Bettie, suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel colored furiously. "I begged it
+from the milkman," she confessed. "That's
+why I'm up so early. I've been sitting on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+our kitchen doorstep for two hours, waiting
+for him to come."</p>
+
+<p>Mabel spent all that day industriously returning
+Rosa Marie to a home that had
+locked its doors against her. No pretty,
+dark, French mother stood in the doorway.
+No tall, dark man wandered about the yard.
+No neighbor came from the tumbling houses
+across the street to explain the woman's
+puzzling absence.</p>
+
+<p>It proved a most tiresome day. Mabel
+was not only mentally weary from trying to
+solve the mystery, but physically tired also
+from dragging Rosa Marie up and down the
+hill between Dandelion Cottage and the
+child's deserted home. The girls went with
+her once, but, having satisfied their curiosity
+as to Rosa Marie's abiding-place, turned
+their attention to pleasanter tasks. Walking
+with Rosa Marie was too much like
+traveling with a snail. One such journey
+was enough.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, Mabel's pride had suffered. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+grinning boy, looking from plump Mabel's
+ruddy countenance to fat Rosa Marie's expressionless
+brown one, had asked wickedly:</p>
+
+<p>"Is that your sister? You look enough
+alike to be twins."</p>
+
+<p>After that, Mabel feared that other persons
+might mistake the small brown person
+for a relative of hers, or, worse yet, mistake
+her for an Indian.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness me!" groaned Mabel, toiling
+homeward from her second trip, "it was
+hard enough to borrow a baby, but it's
+enough sight worse getting rid of one afterwards.
+There's one thing certain; I'll <i>never</i>
+borrow another."</p>
+
+<p>Late in the day Mabel thought of
+Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman. Perhaps she
+would know what had become of Rosa
+Marie's vanished mother. Dropping Rosa
+Marie inside the gate, Mabel knocked at
+Mrs. Malony's door.</p>
+
+<p>"The folks that lived in the shanty beyant?"
+asked Mrs. Malony. "Sure, darlint,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+nobody's lived there for years and years save
+gipsies and tramps and such like."</p>
+
+<p>"But day before yesterday&mdash;no, yesterday
+morning&mdash;I saw a young Frenchwoman&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"A black-eyed gal wid two long braids
+and wan small Injin? Sure, Oi know the
+wan you mane. Her man, Injin Pete, died
+a month ago, some two days after they come
+to the shack."</p>
+
+<p>"But where is she now?" asked Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord love ye," returned Mrs. Malony,
+"how wud Oi be after knowin'? She came
+and she wint, like the rest av thim."</p>
+
+<p>"There was a man&mdash;not a gentleman and
+not exactly a tramp&mdash;talking to her yesterday.
+Perhaps you know where <i>he</i> is. I
+couldn't find <i>anybody</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Depind upon it," said Mrs. Malony,
+easily, "she's gone wid him. She's Mrs.
+Somebody Else by now, and good riddance
+to the pair av thim."</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected Mabel, drawing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+branches of a small shrub aside and disclosing
+Rosa Marie sprawling on the ground behind
+it, "she left her baby."</p>
+
+<p>"The Nation, she did!" gasped Mrs.
+Malony, for once surprised out of her serenity.
+"Wud ye think of thot, now!"</p>
+
+<p>"I've <i>been</i> thinking of it," returned
+Mabel, miserably. "And I don't know what
+in the world to do. You see, she left the
+baby with <i>me</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Take her home wid ye," advised Mrs.
+Malony, hastily; so hastily that it looked as
+if the Irishwoman feared that <i>she</i> might be
+asked to mother Rosa Marie. "I'll kape an
+eye on the shack for ye. If that good-for-nothin'
+black-haired wan comes back, Oi'll
+be up wid the news in two shakes of a dead
+lamb's tail, so Oi will. In the mane toime,
+be a mother to thot innocent babe yourself.
+She needs wan if iver a choild did."</p>
+
+<p>"I've been that for two whole days now,"
+groaned Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Thot's right, thot's right," encouraged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+Mrs. Malony. "Ye were just cut out for
+thot same. Good luck go wid ye."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie spent a second night in the
+spare room of Dandelion Cottage. She, at
+least, seemed utterly indifferent as to her
+fate.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI<br />
+
+<small>The Dark Secret</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE four Cottagers sat in solemn conclave
+round the dining-room table next
+morning. Rosa Marie, flat on her stomach
+on the floor, lapped milk like a cat and
+licked the bowl afterwards; but now no one
+paid the slightest attention.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Jean, removing her elbows
+from the table, "that we'd better tell our
+mothers and Aunty Jane all about it at once.
+They'll know what to do."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I," said Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"So do I," echoed Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> don't," protested Mabel, whose hitherto
+serene countenance now showed signs of
+great anxiety. "If you ever tell <i>anybody</i>,
+I'll&mdash;I'll never speak to you again. This
+joke&mdash;if it <i>is</i> a joke&mdash;is on <i>me</i>. I got into
+this scrape and it's <i>my</i> scrape."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But," objected Jean, "we always do tell
+our mothers everything. That's why they
+trust us to play all by ourselves in Dandelion
+Cottage."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me just a few days," pleaded
+Mabel. "Perhaps that woman got kept
+away by some accident. I'm sure Rosa
+Marie's mother has mother feelings inside of
+her, <i>some</i> place&mdash;I saw 'em in her face when
+I was leading Rosa Marie away. I <i>know</i>
+she'll come back. Until she does, I'll take
+care of that poor deserted child myself."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a blessing she never cries, anyway,"
+observed Bettie. "If she were a howling
+child I don't know <i>what</i> we'd do. As it is,
+she's not <i>much</i> more trouble than a Teddy
+bear."</p>
+
+<p>If Mrs. Mapes hadn't had a missionary
+box in her cellar to pack for Reservation
+Indians of assorted sizes and shapes with the
+cast-off garments of all Lakeville; if Mrs.
+Bennett had not been exceedingly busy with
+a seamstress getting ready to go out of town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+for an important visit; if Aunty Jane had
+not been even busier trying to make green
+tomato pickles out of ripe tomatoes; if Mrs.
+Tucker had not been too anxious about the
+throats of the youngest three Tuckers to give
+heed to the doings of the larger members
+of her family, these four good women would
+surely have discovered that something unusual
+was taking place under the Cottage
+roof. As it was, not one of the mothers,
+not even sharp Aunty Jane, discovered that
+the Cottagers were borrowing an amazing
+amount of milk from their respective refrigerators.</p>
+
+<p>The novelty worn off, Rosa Marie became
+a heavy burden to at least three of the Cottagers'
+tender consciences. Mabel's conscience
+may have troubled her, but not enough
+to be noticed by a pair of moderately
+careless parents. Mabel, however, grew
+more and more attached to Rosa Marie; the
+others did not. To tell the truth, the borrowed
+infant was not an attractive child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+Many small Indians are decidedly pretty,
+but Rosa Marie was not. Her small eyes
+were too close together, her upper lip was
+much too long for the rest of her countenance
+and her large mouth turned sharply down
+at the corners. But loyal Mabel was blind
+to these defects. She saw only the babyish
+roundness of Rosa Marie's body, the cunning
+dimples in her elbows and the affectionate
+gleam that sometimes showed in the
+small black eyes. But then, it was always
+Mabel who found beauty in the stray dogs
+and cats that no one else would have on the
+premises. During these trying days the
+Cottagers <i>almost</i> quarreled.</p>
+
+<p>"That child is all cheeks," complained
+Marjory, petulantly. "They positively hang
+down. Do you suppose we're giving her too
+much milk? She's disgustingly fat, and she
+hasn't any figure."</p>
+
+<p>"She has altogether too much figure," declared
+Jean, almost crossly. "I fastened
+this little petticoat around what I <i>thought</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+was her waist and it slid right off. So
+now I've got to make buttonholes. Such a
+nuisance!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pity you can't use tacks and a hammer,"
+giggled Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>The clothing of Rosa Marie had presented
+another distressing problem. She owned
+absolutely nothing in the way of a wardrobe.
+The single, unattractive garment she had
+worn on her arrival had not survived the
+girls' attempts to wash it. They had left it
+boiling on the stove, the water had cooked
+off and the faded gingham had cooked also.</p>
+
+<p>To make up for this accident, all four of
+the Cottagers had contributed all they could
+find of their own cast-off garments; but
+these of course were much too large without
+considerable making over.</p>
+
+<p>"If," said Jean, reproachfully, as she took
+a large tuck in the grown-up stocking that
+she was trying to re-model for Rosa Marie,
+"you'd only let me tell my mother, she'd
+give us every blessed thing we need. One<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+live little Indian in the hand ought to be
+worth more to her than a whole dozen invisible
+ones on a way-off Reservation; and
+you know she's always doing things for
+<i>them</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Jeanie Mapes!" threatened Mabel, "if
+you tell her, that's the very last breath I'll
+ever speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be good," sighed Jean, "but I just
+hate <i>not</i> telling her. And this horrid stocking
+is <i>still</i> too long."</p>
+
+<p>"Button it about her neck," giggled Marjory,
+who flatly declined to do any sewing
+for Rosa Marie. "That'll take up the slack
+and save making her a shirt."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't bother about stockings," said Bettie,
+fishing a round lump from her blouse.
+"Here's a pair of old ones that I found in
+the rag bag. One's black and the other's
+tan; but they're exactly the right size and
+that's <i>something</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the use," demurred Marjory.
+"She won't wear them."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If Rosa Marie were about eight shades
+slimmer," said Jean, "I could easily get
+some of Anne Halliday's dear little dresses&mdash;her
+mother gave my mother a lot day before
+yesterday for that Reservation box; but
+goodness! You'd have to sew two of them
+together sideways to get them around <i>that</i>
+child."</p>
+
+<p>"She <i>is</i> awfully thick," admitted Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, after all, dressing Rosa Marie was
+not exactly a hardship. Indeed, it is probable
+that the difficulties that stood in the way
+made the task only so much the more interesting;
+then, of course, dressing a real
+child was much more exciting than making
+garments for a mere doll.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever the Cottagers spoke of Rosa
+Marie outside the Cottage they referred to
+her as the D. S. D. S. stood for "Dark
+Secret." This seemed singularly appropriate,
+for Rosa Marie was certainly dark and
+quite as certainly a most tremendous secret&mdash;a
+far larger and darker secret than the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+troubled girls cared to keep, but there seemed
+to be no immediate way out of it.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, the stolid little "D. S." was
+amiable to an astonishing degree. She never
+cried. Also, she "stayed put." If Mabel
+stood her in the corner she stayed there. If
+she were tucked into bed, there she remained
+until some one dragged her out. She spent
+her days rolling contentedly about the Cottage
+floor, her nights in deep, calm slumber.
+Never was there a youngster with fewer
+wants. Teaching Rosa Marie to talk furnished
+the Cottagers with great amusement.
+The round brown damsel very evidently preferred
+grunts to words; but she was always
+willing to grunt obligingly when Mabel or
+the others insisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, 'This little pig went to market,'"
+Mabel would prompt.</p>
+
+<p>"Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, <i>ee</i>, hee!" Rosa
+Marie would grunt.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when everybody else laughed her
+very hardest, Rosa Marie's grim little mouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+would relax to show for an instant the row
+of white teeth that Mabel scrubbed industriously
+many times a day. This rare smile
+made the borrowed baby almost attractive.
+But not to Marjory. From the first, Marjory
+regarded her with strong disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for Mabel's secret, little Anne
+Halliday, the Marcotte twins and the two
+Tucker babies were too small to tell tales out
+of school, so in spite of sundry narrow
+escapes, Rosa Marie remained as dark a
+secret as one's heart could desire.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VII<br />
+
+<small>Discovery</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>SCHOOL began the first day of October&mdash;fortunately,
+repairs to the building had
+delayed the opening. And there was Rosa
+Marie still on the Cottagers' hands, still a
+dark and undivulged secret. In the meantime,
+Mabel had paid many a visit to Mrs.
+Malony, who for reasons of her own had
+kept silence about the borrowed baby.
+Probably she felt that Mrs. Bennett would
+blame her for advising Mabel to harbor the
+deserted child.</p>
+
+<p>"No, darlint," Mrs. Malony would say,
+encouragingly. "Oi ain't exactly <i>seen</i> her,
+but she'll be back prisintly, she'll be back
+prisintly&mdash;Oh, most anny toime, now. Just
+do be waitin' patient and you'll see me come
+walkin' in most anny foine day wid yon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+blackhaired lass at me heels an' full to the
+eyes of her wid gratichude. Anny day at
+all, Miss Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>Buoyed by this hope, Mabel had waited
+from day to day, hoping for speedy deliverance.
+And now, school!</p>
+
+<p>"We'll just have to get excused for part
+of each day," said Marjory, always good at
+suggesting remedies. "Last year, all my
+recitations came in the morning; perhaps
+they will again. Then, if one of you others
+could do all your reciting during the afternoon
+we could manage it."</p>
+
+<p>The year previously Mabel had been
+obliged to spend many a half-hour after
+school, making up neglected lessons. Now,
+however, she studied furiously. If she
+failed frequently it was only because she
+couldn't help making absurd blunders; it was
+never for lack of study. In this one way, at
+least, Rosa Marie proved beneficial.</p>
+
+<p>The united efforts of all four made it
+possible for Rosa Marie to possess a more or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+less unwilling guardian for all but one hour
+during the forenoon. It grieves one to confess
+it, but Rosa Marie spent that solitary
+hour securely strapped to the leg of the dining-room
+table; but, stolid as ever, she did
+not mind that.</p>
+
+<p>It was there that Aunty Jane discovered
+her, the second week in October. Aunty
+Jane had missed her best saucepan. Rightly
+suspecting that Marjory had carried it off to
+make fudge in, she hurried to the Cottage,
+discovered the key under the door-mat,
+opened the door and walked in.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie was grunting. "Eigh, ugh,
+ugh, ee, ee, <i>ee</i>, hee!" to her own bare
+brown toes.</p>
+
+<p>"For mercy's sake! What's that?"
+gasped Aunty Jane, with a terrified start.
+"There's some sort of an animal in this
+house."</p>
+
+<p>Arming herself with the broken umbrella
+that stood in the mended umbrella jar in the
+front hall, Aunty Jane peered cautiously into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+the dining-room. The "animal" turned its
+head to blink with mild, expressionless curiosity
+at Aunty Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"My soul!" ejaculated that good lady,
+"what are you, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>The pair blinked at each other for several
+moments.</p>
+
+<p>"Are&mdash;are you a <i>baby</i>?" demanded
+Aunty Jane.</p>
+
+<p>No response from Rosa Marie.</p>
+
+<p>"What," asked Aunty Jane, cautiously
+drawing closer, "is your name?"</p>
+
+<p>Still no response.</p>
+
+<p>"Who tied you to that table?"</p>
+
+<p>Silence on Rosa Marie's part.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going straight after Mrs. Mapes,"
+declared Aunty Jane, retreating backwards
+in order to keep a watchful eye on the queer
+object under the table. "I might have
+known that those enterprising youngsters
+would be up to <i>something</i>, if I gave my
+whole mind to pickles."</p>
+
+<p>Excited Aunty Jane collected not only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+Mrs. Mapes, but Mrs. Tucker and Mrs.
+Bennett, before she returned to the Cottage.
+And then, the three mothers and Aunty Jane
+sat on the floor beside Rosa Marie and asked
+questions; useless questions, because Rosa
+Marie licked the table-leg bashfully but
+yielded no other reply.</p>
+
+<p>This lasted for nearly half an hour. And
+then, school being out and the four Cottagers
+discovering their front door wide open, Jean,
+Bettie, Marjory and Mabel, all sorts of emotions
+tugging at their hearts, rushed breathlessly
+in. On beholding their mothers and
+Aunty Jane, they, too, turned suddenly bashful
+and leaned, speechless, against the Cottage
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>"Whose child is that?" demanded all
+four of the grown-ups, in concert.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine," replied Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel's," responded the other three,
+with disheartening promptness.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" gasped the parents and Aunty
+Jane.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I borrowed her," explained Mabel, "so
+she's <i>mostly</i> mine."</p>
+
+<p>"She's spending the day here, I suppose,"
+said Mrs. Mapes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es," faltered Mabel. Marjory giggled,
+and Mabel turned crimson.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope," said Mrs. Bennett, severely,
+"that you're not thinking of keeping her all
+night."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I&mdash;we&mdash;" faltered Mabel, "we&mdash;we
+sort of did."</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennett, not
+knowing how very late she was, "I guess
+we've come just in time. Mabel, put that
+child's things on and take her home at once."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't," replied Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"She hasn't any home."</p>
+
+<p>"No home!"</p>
+
+<p>"No. It's&mdash;it's run away."</p>
+
+<p>"What! That baby?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," stammered Mabel, "that baby's
+home. Not&mdash;not the house. Just her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+mother. She&mdash;she&mdash;Oh, she'll be back,
+<i>some</i> day."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel Bennett!" demanded Mrs. Bennett,
+suspecting something of the truth,
+"how long have you had that child here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not&mdash;Oh, not so <i>very</i> long," evaded
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel," demanded her mother, "tell me,
+instantly, exactly how long?"</p>
+
+<p>"About&mdash;yes, just about five weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"Five weeks!" gasped Mrs. Bennett.</p>
+
+<p>"Five <i>weeks</i>!" shrieked Mrs. Tucker.</p>
+
+<p>"Five weeks!" groaned Mrs. Mapes.</p>
+
+<p>"Fi&mdash;ve weeks!" cried Aunty Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll be five to-morrow," said Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"No, the day after," corrected Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>For the next few moments the mothers
+and Aunty Jane were too astounded for
+further speech. The girls, too, had nothing
+to say. All four of the Cottagers kept their
+eyes on the floor, for they knew precisely
+what their elders were thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"Jean," began Mrs. Mapes, reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I <i>wanted</i> to tell," stammered Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't let her," defended Mabel,
+looking up. "They <i>all</i> wanted to tell, but I
+wouldn't let them. Truly, they did, Mrs.
+Mapes."</p>
+
+<p>"But five whole weeks!" murmured Mrs.
+Bennett. "I wonder that you were able to
+keep the secret so long. Why! I've been
+over here half a dozen times at least to ask
+for my scissors and other things that Mabel
+has carried off."</p>
+
+<p>"So have I," said Mrs. Mapes.</p>
+
+<p>"So have I," echoed Mrs. Tucker.</p>
+
+<p>"And so have I," added Aunty Jane,
+"and I've never heard a sound from that remarkable
+child."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," confessed Bettie, flushing
+guiltily, "we kept the door locked. Whenever
+we saw anybody coming we whisked
+Rosa Marie into the spare-room closet."</p>
+
+<p>"If Rosa Marie had been an ordinary
+child," explained Jean, "she would probably
+have howled; but you see, every blessed thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+about us was so new and strange to her that
+she just thought that everything we did was
+all right. And anyhow, she doesn't have
+the same sort of feelings that Anne Halliday
+does. Anne would have cried."</p>
+
+<p>"You naughty, naughty children,"
+scolded Mrs. Mapes, "to keep a secret like
+that for five whole weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mother," protested Jean, gently,
+"we never supposed it was going to be a five-weeks-long
+secret. We didn't <i>want</i> it to be.
+We've been expecting her horrid mother to
+turn up every single minute since Rosa
+Marie came."</p>
+
+<p>"It was all my fault," declared loyal
+Mabel. "<i>They'd</i> have told, the very first
+minute, if it hadn't been for me. Blame me
+for everything."</p>
+
+<p>"What," asked Mrs. Bennett, "do you
+intend to do with that&mdash;that atrocious
+child?"</p>
+
+<p>"She <i>isn't</i> atrocious!" blazed Mabel,
+with sudden fire. "She's a perfect darling,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+when you get used to her, and I <i>love</i> her.
+She isn't so very pretty, I know, but she's
+just dear. She's good, and that&mdash;and that's&mdash;Why!
+You've said, yourself, that it was
+better to be good than beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>"But what do you intend to do with
+her?" persisted Mrs. Bennett.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep her," said Mabel, firmly. "She
+doesn't eat anything much but milk and
+sample packages."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't. I won't have her in my
+house. Why! Her parents are probably
+dreadful people."</p>
+
+<p>"That's why she ought to have me for a
+mother and you for a grandmother," pleaded
+Mabel, earnestly. "But if you don't like
+her, I'll keep her here."</p>
+
+<p>"But you can't, Mabel. It's so cold that
+there ought to be a fire here this minute, and
+you can't possibly leave a child alone with a
+fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't <i>you</i> take her, Mrs. Mapes?"
+pleaded Mabel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm afraid I couldn't. If she were
+the least bit lovable&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she <i>is</i>&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Not to me," returned Mrs. Mapes,
+firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't <i>you</i> take her, Mrs. Tucker?"</p>
+
+<p>"What! With all the family I have now?
+I couldn't think of such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you," begged Mabel, turning to
+Aunty Jane. "There's only you and Marjory
+in that great big house. Oh, <i>do</i> take
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy! I'd just as soon undertake to
+board a live bear! Why! Nobody wants a
+child of <i>that</i> sort around. She's as
+homely&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm extremely glad," said Mabel, with
+much dignity and a great deal of emphasis,
+"that <i>my</i> child doesn't understand grown-up
+English."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said Mrs. Mapes, smiling
+with sympathetic understanding, "we four
+older people had better talk this matter over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+by ourselves. Suppose you walk home with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> think," said Aunty Jane, forgetting all
+about the saucepan that had led her to the
+Cottage, "that the orphan asylum is the
+place for that unspeakable child."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," agreed Mrs. Bennett, "she'll certainly
+have to go to the asylum."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+
+<small>The Fugitive Soldier</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE Cottage door closed behind the
+three excited parents and Aunty Jane.
+The four Cottagers, all decidedly pale and
+subdued, looked at one another in silence.
+It is one thing to confess a fault; it is quite
+another to be ignominiously found out.
+Jean and Bettie and Marjory were feeling
+this very keenly; but Mabel was far more
+troubled at the prospect of losing Rosa
+Marie.</p>
+
+<p>"The orphan asylum!" breathed Bettie,
+at length.</p>
+
+<p>"It's wicked," blazed Mabel, "to make an
+orphan of a person that isn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard," said Marjory, reflectively,
+"that orphans have to eat fried liver."</p>
+
+<p>"Horrors!" gasped Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"And codfish."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh <i>horrors</i>!" moaned Mabel, who detested
+both liver and codfish.</p>
+
+<p>"And prunes," pursued teasing Marjory,
+wickedly remembering Mabel's dislike for
+that wholesome but insipid fruit. The
+prunes proved entirely too much for Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Pup&mdash;pup&mdash;prunes!" she sobbed. "And
+you stand there and don't do a thing to save
+her! I guess if I were Eliza escaping with
+my baby on cakes of ice&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rosa Marie's about the right color,"
+giggled Marjory, who could not resist so
+fine an opportunity to tease excitable Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd all be glad enough to help, but
+when it's just me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we'll help," soothed Jean, slipping
+an arm about Mabel. "You know we
+always do stand by you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we'll all help," promised Bettie, "if
+you'll just tell us what to do. Only <i>please</i>
+don't get us into any more trouble with our
+mothers."</p>
+
+<p>"There's the cellar," suggested Mabel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+doubtfully, yet with glimmerings of hope.
+"I read a story once about a lady who sat
+on a cellar door, knitting stockings."</p>
+
+<p>"Why in the world," demanded Marjory,
+"did she sit on the door?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some soldiers were hunting for an
+escaped prisoner and she had him hidden
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"Was the cellar all horrid with old papers
+and rats and mice and spiders and crawly
+things with legs?" asked Bettie, with
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," shuddered Mabel, "but a
+soldier wouldn't mind. Dear me, I wish
+we'd cleaned that cellar when we first came
+into the Cottage. If we had, it'd be just the
+place to hide Rosa Marie in."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it isn't too late, now," said
+Marjory, stooping to loosen the ring in the
+kitchen floor. "Let's look down there, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's," agreed Bettie. "It'll be something
+to do, at least."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Everybody helped with the door. When
+it was open and propped against the kitchen
+stove, the four girls crouched down to peer
+into the depths below. Even Rosa Marie,
+who had been released from the table-leg,
+crept to the edge to look.</p>
+
+<p>They were not very deep depths. The
+place was filled with rubbish, mostly old
+papers and broken pasteboard boxes; but it
+was perfectly dry, and clean except for a
+thick layer of dust.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's clean it out," said Mabel, recklessly
+grasping an armful of dusty papers
+and dragging them forth.</p>
+
+<p>"Phew!" exclaimed Jean, tumbling back
+from the hole. "Er&mdash;er&mdash;er hash!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ki&mdash;<i>hash</i>! Hoo!" blubbered Bettie,
+likewise tumbling backwards.</p>
+
+<p>"Who-is-she, who-is-she," sneezed Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Kerchoo, kerchoo, kerchoo!" sneezed
+Rosa Marie, her head bobbing with each
+sneeze. "Kerchoo, kerchoo!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's pepper," explained Mabel, when she
+had finished <i>her</i> sneeze. "I spilled a lot of
+it the day of Mr. Black's dinner party. I
+didn't know what else to do with it, so I
+swept it down that biggest crack."</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness! What a housekeeper!" rebuked
+Jean, wiping her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It's good for moths," consoled Bettie.
+"At any rate, Rosa Marie won't get moth-eaten."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," suggested Mabel, hopefully,
+"it's driven away all the rats and crawly
+things."</p>
+
+<p>Working more cautiously, the girls drew
+forth the yellowed papers and pasteboard
+left by some former untidy occupant of the
+Cottage. They burned most of the rubbish
+in the kitchen stove, Jean standing guard lest
+burning pieces should escape to set fire to the
+Cottage. The work of clearing the cellar,
+indeed, was precisely what the girls needed,
+after the humiliating events of the day. All
+four were growing more cheerful; but they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+worked as swiftly as they dared, for they
+felt certain that the cellar, as a place of concealment
+for Rosa Marie, would be speedily
+needed.</p>
+
+<p>The cellar proved to be a square hole
+about three feet deep. When Mabel, who
+for once was doing the lion's share of the
+work, had swept the boarded floor and sides
+perfectly clean, it was really a very tidy, inviting
+little shelter; as neat a shelter as fugitive
+soldier could desire.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Mabel, "we'll put a piece of
+carpet and an old quilt in the bottom, tack
+clean papers around the sides&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Papers rattle," offered Marjory, sagely.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll use cloth," declared Mabel,
+snatching an apron from the hook behind
+the door. "We'll begin right away to
+practise with Rosa Marie, so she'll get used
+to it. Then we must rehearse our parts,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>The retreat ready, Rosa Marie went without
+a murmur into the underground babytender&mdash;Marjory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+gave it that name. Rosa
+Marie, at least, would do her part successfully.
+But it was different above ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Who," demanded Jean, "is to sit on the
+door and knit? <i>I</i> couldn't&mdash;I'd fly to
+pieces."</p>
+
+<p>"It's my child," said Mabel, "<i>I'm</i> going
+to."</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected Marjory, "you <i>can't</i>
+knit. You don't know how."</p>
+
+<p>"I can crochet," triumphed Mabel, "and
+I guess that's every bit as good."</p>
+
+<p>"Where," asked Bettie, "is your crochet
+hook?"</p>
+
+<p>But that, of course, was a question that
+Mabel could not answer, because Mabel
+never did know where any of her belongings
+were. Thereupon, Jean, Marjory and
+Mabel began a frantic search for the missing
+article. Mabel had used it the week
+previously; but could remember nothing
+more about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" groaned Mabel, groveling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+under the spare-room bed in hopes that the
+hook might be there. "If I'd dreamed that
+my child's life was going to depend on that
+hook, I'd have kept it locked up in father's
+fire-proof safe."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what you get," said Marjory,
+with one eye glued to the top of a very tall
+vase, "for being so careless. It isn't in
+here, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Here's one," announced Bettie, scrambling
+in hastily and locking the door behind
+her. "I skipped home for it. But there's
+no time to lose. All our mothers and Aunty
+Jane are going out of Mrs. Mapes's gate
+with their best hats and gloves on. There's
+something doing!"</p>
+
+<p>In another moment, the cellar door was
+closed, a rocking chair was placed upon it,
+and Mabel, with ball of yarn and crochet
+hook in hand, was nervously twitching in
+the chair. Her fingers were stiff with dust&mdash;there
+had been no time to wash them&mdash;so
+the loop that she tied in the end of the white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+yarn was most decidedly black; but Mabel
+was thankful to achieve a loop of any color,
+with her whole body quivering with excitement
+and suspense.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" she quavered. "That
+soldier lady was a wonder! Think of her
+looking calm outside with her heart going
+like a Dover egg-beater. Do&mdash;do <i>I</i> look
+calm?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here," said Bettie, extending a basin of
+warm water. "Soak your hands in this.
+Warm water is said to be soothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Also cleansing," giggled Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry!" gasped quick-eared Jean,
+snatching the basin and hurling a towel in
+Mabel's direction. "I heard our gate click.
+There's somebody coming."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let 'em in," breathed Mabel,
+defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," said Jean, "we'll have to."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway," soothed Bettie, "we'll peek
+first&mdash;there's the door-bell!"</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX<br />
+
+<small>A Surprise</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>JEAN and Bettie flew to one window,
+Marjory to the other. Mabel wanted to
+fly, too, but she remained faithfully at her
+post, feeling quite cheered by her own
+heroism.</p>
+
+<p>"It's dark gray trousers with a crease in
+'em; not skirts," announced Marjory, peering
+under the edge of the shade.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably a man from the asylum,"
+shuddered Bettie. "Let's keep very still.
+He may think that this is the wrong house
+and go somewhere else."</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected Jean, "he'll only come
+back again."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," sighed Bettie. "I s'pose we will
+have to open the door. You do it, Marjory."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to," returned Marjory, unexpectedly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+shrinking. "It seems too much
+like giving Rosa Marie into the hands of the
+enemy. After all, we're going to miss her
+dreadfully and Mabel'll be just about broken-hearted.
+She <i>does</i> get so attached to things&mdash;Oh!
+He's ringing again."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to unlock the door," sighed
+Jean, placing her hand on the key, "but
+dearie me, I feel just as Marjory does about
+it. Knit fast, Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>The key turned in the lock, but the girls
+did not need to open the door; the visitor did
+that. Then there were rapturous cries of
+"Mr. Black! Mr. Black!"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel wanted to greet Mr. Black, too, for
+there was nobody in the world that was
+kinder to little girls than the stout gentleman
+who had just opened their door; but
+she remembered that the soldier lady (in
+spite of the Dover egg-beater heart) had
+remained seated, placidly knitting; so Mabel
+likewise sat still and plied her crochet hook.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi, hi!" exclaimed Mr. Black. "What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+are you all locked in for? And here I had
+to ring four times when I came with a
+present&mdash;apples right off the top of my own
+barrel. Began to be afraid I'd have to eat
+them all myself, you were so long letting
+me in."</p>
+
+<p>"If we'd guessed that it was you and
+apples," said Marjory, "we'd have met you
+at the gate."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the other girl?" asked Mr.
+Black's big, cheery voice. "Doesn't she
+like apples, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the kitchen," chorused Jean, Marjory
+and Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Black, striding
+kitchenward, "here she is, knitting like
+any old lady. Aren't you coming in here to
+eat apples with the rest of us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't," mumbled Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, grandma?" teased
+Mr. Black. "Rheumatism troubling you
+to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nope," returned Mabel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lost all your teeth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nope."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you knitting me a pair of socks or
+is it mittens?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a chain," replied Mabel, suddenly
+beaming. "But, Mr. Black, does it really
+look as if I were knitting?"</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely," smiled Mr. Black. "So
+much so that you remind me of the story of
+the woman who sat on the trap door and
+knitted&mdash;By Jove! That <i>is</i> a trap door!
+Here's the ring sticking up."</p>
+
+<p>The girls shot a quick glance at the floor.
+Then they gazed guiltily at one another.
+Sure enough! The tell-tale ring stood upright,
+ready for use. No one had thought
+to conceal it.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a wounded soldier down
+there?" asked Mr. Black, jokingly.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" shouted all four with suspicious
+haste.</p>
+
+<p>The deep silence that followed was suddenly
+punctuated by a muffled sneeze from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+Rosa Marie. Undoubtedly, some of the
+pepper dislodged from the crack in the floor
+had sifted down to the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>The faces of the four girls flushed guiltily.
+Mr. Black looked wonderingly at the
+little group. It was plain that something
+was wrong. Jean, who had always met her
+friend's glance with level, truthful eyes, was
+now looking most sheepishly at her own
+toes. Bettie, hitherto always ready to tell
+the whole truth, was now fiddling evasively
+with the corner of her apron. Marjory's
+fair skin was crimson; her usually frank
+blue eyes were intent on something under
+the kitchen table.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there some sort of an animal in that
+cellar?" demanded Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie chose this moment to give
+another large sneeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it something you're afraid of?" demanded
+Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>"'Fraid of losing," mumbled Mabel,
+shamefacedly. Poor Mabel realized only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+too well that she, with her knitting and her
+too-perfect playing of the part, had given the
+secret away; and she felt all the bitterness
+of failure.</p>
+
+<p>Seizing the back of Mabel's chair, Mr.
+Black drew it swiftly off the trap door. In
+another moment, he had the door open.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie, blinking at the sudden light,
+bobbed upward. Mr. Black involuntarily
+started back from the opening.</p>
+
+<p>"What under heavens is that!" he
+gasped. "A monkey?"</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, the error was a perfectly
+natural one, for all he had been able to see
+was a tousled head of hair, beneath which
+gleamed small black eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say not!" blazed Mabel. "It's
+my little girl&mdash;my Rosa Marie."</p>
+
+<p>"Does she bite? Is she dangerous? Is
+that why you treat her like potatoes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly not," returned Mabel,
+with dignity. "She's an Indian."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me!" said Mr. Black, leaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+cautiously forward. "Let's have a look
+at her."</p>
+
+<p>Now that the secret was out, everybody
+eagerly clutched some portion of Rosa
+Marie's clothing. She was drawn, with
+some difficulty and sundry tearings of cloth,
+from the "Soldier's Retreat." Mabel cuddled
+the blinking small person in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you pick her up in the woods?"
+asked Mr. Black, "or did you simply kidnap
+her? Or, dreadful thought! Did you
+order her by number from some catalogue?
+And did they charge you full price?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Mabel, helped by the other three,
+told all that they knew of the history of
+Rosa Marie; and of Mabel's affection for
+the queer brown baby. They told him
+everything. Mabel, with visions of the
+orphan asylum's doors yawning to engulf
+precious Rosa Marie, considered it a very
+sad story. She felt grieved and indignant
+because Mr. Black, instead of sympathizing,
+laughed until his sides shook. Even the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+pathetic diet of liver, codfish and prunes
+seemed to amuse him.</p>
+
+<p>"What would you have said if your
+mothers had asked you where this child
+was?" inquired Mr. Black presently. "I
+mean, when you had her down cellar?"</p>
+
+<p>Jean looked at Bettie, Bettie looked at
+Marjory, Marjory looked at Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"We never thought of that," confessed
+Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," groaned Mabel, holding Rosa
+Marie closer, "our plan isn't any good after
+all. We'd have to tell the truth if they
+asked; we always do."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jean, "they'd get it out of us
+at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Even," teased Marjory, shrewdly, "if
+Mabel, sitting upon that trap door, were not
+every bit as good as a printed sign."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," soothed Jean, slipping an
+arm about Mabel's shoulders, "we'd rather
+be honest than smart, since we can't be
+both."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mabel needed soothing. She sat still and
+made no sound; but large tears were rolling
+down her cheeks and splashing on Rosa
+Marie's black head. Mr. Black regarded
+them thoughtfully. He noticed too that
+Mabel's moderately white hand was closed
+tightly over Rosa Marie's brown fingers.
+It reminded him, some way, of his own
+youthful agony over parting with a puppy
+that he had not been allowed to keep&mdash;he
+had always regretted that puppy.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the front door, propelled by
+some unseen force, opened from without to
+admit the three mothers and Aunty Jane,
+followed closely by Mr. Tucker, Dr. Bennett
+and two young women in nurses' uniform.
+They crowded into the little parlor
+and filled it to overflowing. None of the
+Cottagers said a word; but Mabel, tears still
+rolling down her cheeks, silently clasped
+both arms tightly about Rosa Marie's body.
+It began to look as if Rosa Marie would
+have to be taken by force.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's all arranged," announced Mrs. Bennett,
+breathlessly. "The asylum is willing
+to take her and she is to go at once with
+these young ladies. Come, Mabel, don't be
+foolish. Take your arms away. You're
+behaving very badly&mdash;There, there, I'll buy
+you something."</p>
+
+<p>"You're just a little too late," said Mr.
+Black, keeping watchful eyes on Mabel's
+speaking countenance. "I've decided to
+take the responsibility of Rosa Marie into
+my own hands."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER X<br />
+
+<small>Breaking the News</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>WHEN Mr. Black went home that afternoon
+to explain the matter to his
+good sister, Mrs. Crane, he took with him
+not only Rosa Marie, but Jean, Marjory,
+Bettie and Mabel, whose parents had given
+them permission to escort the brown baby
+to her new home.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said he, while waiting for
+Rosa Marie to be made somewhat more attractive,
+"I want you to tell the story to
+Mrs. Crane, precisely as you told it to me.
+But don't mention <i>me</i> until you get to the
+very end."</p>
+
+<p>With her hair brushed and braided and
+her fat little body stuffed into a pink gingham
+apron that the Cottagers had laboriously
+cut down from a wrapper of Mrs.
+Halliday's, Rosa Marie looked her best, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+spite of the fact that she wore no shoes and
+stockings. She trotted contentedly at
+Mabel's side; but Bettie, who was supposed
+to be walking with Mr. Black, pranced delightedly
+about him in circles, to show her
+gratitude. Jean and Marjory followed more
+sedately but with beaming countenances.</p>
+
+<p>Now that Mrs. Crane was no longer poor,
+she was always dressed very neatly in black
+silk. Except for that she was precisely the
+same jolly, good-natured woman that she
+had been when she lived alone in the little
+house just across the street from Dandelion
+Cottage. Now, however, she lived with her
+brother, Mr. Black, in his big, imposing, but
+rather gloomy house. She had no husband,
+he had no wife and neither had any children.
+Perhaps that is why they were both so fond
+of the Dandelion Cottagers.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crane was planting bulbs in the garden
+when Mr. Black ushered his procession
+in at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" said she, "here you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+just in time to help. I always said that if
+ever I got a chance to plant all the tulip
+bulbs I wanted, I'd die of pure happiness;
+but I guess I stand <i>more</i> chance of dying of
+a broken back. My land! I've planted two
+thousand three hundred and forty-eight of
+the best-looking bulbs I ever laid eyes on,
+and there ain't a hole in those boxes yet.
+They're all named, too. Here's Rachel
+Ruish, Rose Grisdelin, Rosy Mundi, Yellow
+Prince, the Duke of York&mdash;think of having
+<i>him</i> in your front yard&mdash;and Lady Grandison,
+two inches apart, clear to the gate. But
+land! I suppose a body's tongue'd go lame
+counting <i>diamonds</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you let Martin plant them?"
+asked Mr. Black, with a twinkle in his eye.
+It was plain that he enjoyed his talkative
+elderly sister.</p>
+
+<p>"And have them all bloom in China?"
+retorted Mrs. Crane. "Now you know,
+Peter, that Martin couldn't get a bulb right
+end up if there were printed directions on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+the skin of every bulb. But Jean there, and
+Bettie&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll do it," cried the girls. "Just tell
+us how."</p>
+
+<p>"Two inches apart, pointed end up, all
+the way along those little trenches," directed
+Mrs. Crane, seating herself in the wheelbarrow.
+"No, not <i>you</i>, Mabel. You and
+Martin&mdash;Well, I won't <i>say</i> it. Why!
+What's the matter with your face? Looks
+to me as if you'd dusted the coal bin with
+yourself and then cried about it. What's
+the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Mabel introduced Rosa Marie,
+who had been shyly hiding behind a rosebush,
+told her story and graphically described
+the horrors of the orphan asylum.</p>
+
+<p>"While I don't believe that any orphan
+asylum is as black as you've painted that
+one," said Mrs. Crane, "it does seem a pity
+to shut a little outdoor animal like that up
+in a cage when she ain't used to it. Now,
+Peter, you listen to me. Why couldn't <i>we</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+keep Rosa Marie here for a time. Like
+enough, her mother'll be back after her most
+any day. In the meantime, she'd be more
+company than a cat and easier to wash than
+a poodle."</p>
+
+<p>"Well now, I don't know," returned Mr.
+Black, winking at Mabel. "A child is a
+great deal of trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Shame on you, Peter Black. It's only
+yesterday that you bought a wretched old
+horse to keep his owner from ill-treating
+him; and here you are refusing&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not exactly refusing&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Begrudging, anyway, to rescue that innocent
+lamb&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She means black sheep," whispered
+Marjory, into Jean's convenient ear.</p>
+
+<p>"From that institution. Peter Black!
+I'm just going to keep that child, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>At this, all five laughed merrily. Rosa
+Marie, cheered by the sound, reached
+gravely into a paper bag, gravely handed
+each person a tulip bulb and appropriated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+one herself. She took a generous bite out
+of hers.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll plant 'em in a ring around that
+snowball bush," said Mrs. Crane, rescuing
+the bitten bulb, bite and all. "That shall be
+Rosa Marie's own flower bed."</p>
+
+<p>"There's a nursery on the second floor,"
+said Mr. Black. "You girls must help us
+fix it up. And, Mabel, perhaps <i>you</i> would
+like to spend this money for some toys that
+would just exactly suit Rosa Marie."</p>
+
+<p>Mabel beamed gratefully as she accepted
+the money and the responsibility. Never
+before had any one singled her out to perform
+a task that required discretion. It was
+always Jean, or Bettie, or sometimes even
+Marjory that was chosen. Never before
+had greatness been thrust upon Mabel. She
+lavished grateful, affectionate glances on
+Mr. Black and inwardly determined to save
+part of the cash with which to buy him a
+Christmas present, not realizing that that
+would be a misappropriation of funds.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mabel, however, felt a pang of jealousy
+when Rosa Marie, digging contentedly in
+the sand at Mrs. Crane's feet, allowed her
+former guardian to depart absolutely unnoticed.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>did</i> think," confided Mabel to Bettie,
+who walked beside her, "that she'd at least
+<i>look</i> as if she cared."</p>
+
+<p>That night the mothers made peace with
+their daughters, and Aunty Jane extended a
+flag of truce to Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"It was all for your own good," explained
+Mrs. Bennett, her arm about Mabel, who
+was missing the pleasant task of putting
+Rosa Marie to bed. "I couldn't let you
+grow up with a little Indian continually at
+your heels. You'd have grown tired of her,
+too. And by keeping silence so long, you
+did a great deal of harm. If we'd known
+about the matter at once, we might have been
+able to find her mother. Now it's too late."</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought of that," said Mabel,
+contritely. "I'll tell right away, next time."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mabel! There mustn't <i>be</i> a next time.
+Promise me this instant that you'll never
+borrow another baby unless you know
+that its mother really wants to keep it.
+Promise."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, I promise," said Mabel,
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"But I <i>can't</i> think," remarked Mrs. Bennett,
+"what possessed Mr. Black to be so
+foolish as to take such a child into his own
+home."</p>
+
+<p>There were other persons that wondered,
+too, why Mr. Black should burden his household
+with the care of what Martin, his man,
+called an uncivilized savage; but the truth
+of the matter was just this. The large
+silent tears rolling down Mabel's forlorn
+countenance had suddenly proved too much
+for the tender heart of Mr. Black. In some
+ways, perhaps, impulsive Mr. Black was not
+a wise man; but, where children were concerned,
+there was no doubt of his being an
+exceedingly tender person.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XI<br />
+
+<small>The Alarm</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>NOW that the burden of caring for Rosa
+Marie was shifted to older and more
+competent shoulders, the Cottagers' thoughts
+returned to their school-work. It was time.
+Never had lessons been so neglected. Never
+before had four moderately intelligent little
+girls seemed so stupid. But of course
+with their minds filled with Rosa Marie, it
+had been impossible to keep the rivers of
+South America from lightmindedly running
+over into Asia, or the products of British
+Columbia from being exported from
+Calcutta.</p>
+
+<p>These fortunate girls attended a beautiful
+school. That is, the building was beautiful.
+It stood right in the middle of a great big
+grassy block, entirely surrounded, as Bettie
+put it, by street, which of course added<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+greatly to its dignity. It was built of "raindrop"
+sandstone, a most interesting building
+material because no two blocks were
+alike and also because each stone looked as
+if it had just been sprinkled with big, spattering
+drops of rain. It was hard when
+looking at it to believe that it wasn't raining,
+and certain naughty youngsters delighted
+in fooling new teachers by pointing
+out the deceiving drops that flecked the
+balustrade. Perhaps even the grass was
+fooled by this semblance to showers for, in
+summer time, it grew so thriftily that no
+one had to be warned to "Keep off," so a
+great many little people frolicked in the
+schoolyard even during vacation.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the Dandelion Cottagers were
+not in the same classes in school. Jean,
+being the oldest, the most sedate and the
+most studious, was almost through the
+eighth grade. Marjory, being naturally
+very bright and also moderately industrious,
+was in the seventh. Mabel and Bettie were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+not exactly anywhere. You see, Bettie had
+had to stay out so often to keep the next to
+the youngest Tucker baby from falling
+downstairs, that naturally she had dropped
+behind all the classes that she had ever
+started with; and Mabel&mdash;of course Mabel
+<i>meant</i> well, but when she studied at all it
+was usually the lesson for some other day;
+for this blundering maiden never <i>could</i> remember
+which was the right page. But one
+day she happened by some lucky accident to
+stumble upon the right one, and on that
+solitary occasion she recited so very brilliantly
+that Miss Bonner and all the pupils
+dropped their books to listen in astonishment,
+and Mabel was marked one hundred.</p>
+
+<p>But in spite of this high mark in good
+black ink (if one stood less than seventy-five
+red ink was employed) the thing did not
+happen again that fall because Mabel was
+too busy bringing up Rosa Marie to study
+even the wrong lesson. However, she was
+exceedingly fond of pretty Miss Bonner and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+having learned the exact date of that young
+woman's birthday, hoped to appease her by
+a gift to be paid for by contributions from
+all the pupils in Miss Bonner's room. Mabel
+herself received and cared for the slowly accumulating
+funds, and the little brown purse
+was becoming almost as weighty a responsibility
+as Rosa Marie had been. Sometimes
+it rested in Mabel's untrustworthy pocket,
+sometimes in her rather untidy desk, sometimes
+under her pillow in her own room at
+home. One day Mrs. Bennett found it
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mabel!" she exclaimed. "Where
+did all this money come from? I know <i>you</i>
+don't possess any."</p>
+
+<p>"It's the M. B. B. P. F.," responded
+Mabel, who was brushing her hair with
+evident enjoyment and two very handsome
+military brushes. "I guess I'd better put
+it in my pocket."</p>
+
+<p>"The what?" asked puzzled Mrs.
+Bennett.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The Miss Bonner Birthday Present
+Fund. I'm the Cus&mdash;Cus&mdash;Custodium."</p>
+
+<p>"The what kind of cuss?" asked Dr.
+Bennett, who had just poked his head in at
+the door to ask if, by any chance, Mabel had
+seen anything of his hair brushes.</p>
+
+<p>"The Custodium," replied Mabel, with
+dignity.</p>
+
+<p>"I think she means 'Custodian.'" explained
+Mrs. Bennett, rescuing the brushes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," retorted Mabel, "the toad part
+was all right if the tail wasn't. Marjory
+named me that, and she's always using bigger
+words than she ought to."</p>
+
+<p>"So is somebody else," said Dr. Bennett,
+forgetting to scold about the brushes. "But
+I think the 'Custodium' had better hurry,
+or she'll be late for school."</p>
+
+<p>That was Friday, and the little brown
+purse contained two dollars and forty-seven
+cents, which seemed a tremendous sum to inexperienced
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>She remembered afterwards how very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+big, imposing and substantial the school
+building had looked that morning as she approached
+it and noticed some strangers fingering
+the "rain-drops" to see if they were
+real. Indeed, everybody, from the largest
+tax-payer down to the smallest pupil, was
+proud of that building because it was so big
+and because there was no more rain-drop
+sandstone left in the quarry from which it
+had been taken. Even thoughtless Mabel
+always swelled with pride when tourists
+paused to comment on the queer, spotted appearance
+of those massive walls. She meant
+to point that building out some day to her
+grandchildren as the fount of all her learning;
+for the huge, solid building looked as
+if it would certainly outlast not only Mabel's
+grandchildren but all their great-great-grandchildren
+as well. But it didn't.</p>
+
+<p>The catastrophe came on Saturday.
+Afterwards, everybody in Lakeville was
+glad, since the thing had to happen at all,
+that the day was Saturday, for no one liked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+to think what might have happened had the
+trouble come on a schoolday. It was also
+a Saturday in the first week of November,
+which was not quite so fortunate, as there
+was a stiff north wind.</p>
+
+<p>At two o'clock that afternoon the streets
+were almost deserted, but weatherproof
+Dick Tucker, with his hands in his pockets,
+was going along whistling at the top of his
+very good lungs. By the merest chance he
+glanced at the wide windows of Lakeville's
+most pretentious possession, the big Public
+School building.</p>
+
+<p>From four of the upper windows floated
+thin, softly curling plumes of gray smoke.
+The windows were closed, but the smoke appeared
+to be leaking out from the surrounding
+frames.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" muttered Dick, suddenly shutting
+off his whistle. "That looks like
+smoke. The janitor must be rebuilding the
+furnace fire. But why should smoke&mdash;I
+guess I'll investigate."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The puzzled boy ran up the steps, pulled
+the vestibule door open and eagerly pressed
+his nose against the plate-glass panel of the
+inner door, which was locked. Through the
+glass, however, he could plainly see that the
+wide corridor was thick with smoke. He
+could even smell it.</p>
+
+<p>"Great guns!" exclaimed Dick. "There's
+things doing in there! That furnace never
+smokes as hard as all that and besides the
+Janitor always has Saturday afternoons off.
+Perhaps the basement door is unlocked."</p>
+
+<p>Dick ran down the steps to find that door,
+too, securely fastened.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," said Dick, with another look
+at the curling smoke about the upper windows,
+"the thing for me to do is to turn in
+an alarm."</p>
+
+<p>Dick happened to know where the alarm-box
+was situated, so, feeling most important,
+yet withal strangely shaky as to legs, the lad
+made for the corner, a good long block
+distant, smashed the glass according to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+directions, and sent in the alarm, a thing that
+he had always longed to do.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later, the big red hosecart,
+with gong ringing, firemen shouting and
+dogs barking, was dashing up the street.
+The hook and ladder company followed and
+a meat wagon, or rather a meat-wagon horse,
+galloped after. The foundry whistle began
+to give the ward number in long, melancholy,
+terrifying toots and the hosehouse bell
+joined in with a mad clamor. People
+poured from the houses along the hosecart's
+route, for in Lakeville it was customary for
+private citizens to attend all fires.</p>
+
+<p>Dick, feeling most important, stood on
+the schoolhouse steps and pointed upward.
+The hosecart stopped with a jerk that must
+have surprised the horses, firemen leaped
+down and in a twinkling the foremost had
+smashed in the big glass door.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a fire all right," said he.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the Janitor, chopping wood in
+his own backyard (which was his way of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+enjoying his afternoons off), had listened
+intently to the fire alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Six-Two," said he, suddenly dropping
+his ax. "Guess I'll have a look at that fire.
+That's pretty close to my school."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XII<br />
+
+<small>The Fire</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>JEAN, Bettie, Marjory and Mabel ran with
+the rest to see what was happening, for
+their homes were not far from the schoolhouse.
+Indeed, owing to its ample setting,
+the building was plainly visible from all
+directions; and from a distance, it always
+loomed larger than anything else in the
+town. To all the citizens it was a most unusual
+and alarming sight to see thick, black
+smoke curling about the eaves and rising in
+a threatening column above the familiar
+building. Such a thing had never happened
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Marjory was the first of the quartette to
+discover what was going on. She had
+opened her bedroom window the better to
+count the strokes of the fire-bell when, to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+astonishment, she saw the fire itself or at
+least the smoke thereof. Her first thought
+was of her three friends; for of course no
+Cottager could view such a spectacle as this
+promised to be without the companionship
+of the other three.</p>
+
+<p>So Marjory flew around the block&mdash;like
+a little excited hen, Dr. Tucker said&mdash;and
+collected the girls. They ran in a body to
+join the swelling crowd that surrounded the
+smoking building.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep back out of danger," called Aunty
+Jane, who was watching the fire from her
+upstairs window.</p>
+
+<p>"We will," shrieked Marjory, who, with
+the other three, was rushing by.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't get mixed up with the hose,"
+warned Dr. Tucker, who was carrying young
+Peter to view the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't," promised Bettie. "We'll
+stand on the very safest corner."</p>
+
+<p>"This is it," declared Jean, stopping short
+on the sidewalk. "We can see right over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
+the heads of the folks that are close to the
+building."</p>
+
+<p>"Should you think," panted Mabel, hopefully,
+"that there'd be school Monday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looks doubtful," said Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Not upstairs, anyway," returned Jean.
+"Everything must be smoked perfectly
+black. And it's getting worse every minute
+instead of better."</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" cried Mabel, suddenly turning
+pale at a new and alarming thought.
+"I do hope it won't burn <i>my</i> room. The
+money for Miss Bonner's birthday present
+is in my desk. It's&mdash;it's a horrible lot of
+money to lose. I ought never to have left
+it there. Dear me! Do you think&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Phew!" cried Jean, paying no heed to
+Mabel. "Look at that!"</p>
+
+<p>"That" was a terrifying flash of red that
+suddenly illumined six of the big upper
+windows.</p>
+
+<p>"The High School room," groaned Bettie.
+"It's&mdash;it's <i>flames</i>!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Hang it!" growled an indignant tax-payer.
+"Why doesn't somebody <i>do</i> something?
+That building cost fifty thousand
+dollars."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire started from a defective flue on top
+floor," explained another bystander, "but
+that's no reason why the whole place should
+go. There's no fire downstairs, but there
+<i>will</i> be&mdash;What's that? No water? Broken
+hydrant?"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel listened attentively. The bystander
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Then the whole building is doomed.
+It's had time enough to get a tremendous
+start."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, look!" cried Jean. "It's bursting
+through into the next room&mdash;<i>my</i> room!
+Oh, how <i>dreadful</i>! All our plants, our
+books, our pictures&mdash;Oh, oh! I can't bear
+to look."</p>
+
+<p>Firemen and volunteer helpers were,
+hurrying in and out the wide south door.
+Men carried out towering piles of books and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+tossed them ruthlessly to the ground. Miss
+Bonner's big pink geranium was added to
+the heap. The Janitor appeared with the
+big hall clock, that wouldn't go at all on
+ordinary occasions but was now striking
+seven hundred and twenty-seven&mdash;or something
+like that&mdash;all at one stretch. It
+seemed to be crying out in alarm. The roar
+of flames could now be heard, likewise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" exclaimed Jean, wheeling suddenly.
+"Where's Mabel? Wasn't she
+right beside you a minute ago, Bettie? I
+certainly saw her there."</p>
+
+<p>"She was&mdash;but she isn't now," returned
+Bettie, looking about anxiously. "I
+thought she was behind me."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" murmured motherly Jean.
+"I hope she hasn't gone any closer. Suppose
+the scallops on that roof should begin
+to melt off."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, look!" cried Marjory. "There!
+In the doorway!"</p>
+
+<p>All three looked just in time to see a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+short, not-very-slender girl in an unmistakable
+red cap dart in at the smoky doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," groaned Jean, "it's Mabel!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," moaned Marjory, "why did I ever
+tell her that there was a fire?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," hazarded Bettie, "that
+she's gone to Miss Bonner's room to get that
+money."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie was right. That was exactly what
+Mabel had done.</p>
+
+<p>All along Mabel's way hands had
+stretched out to stop the flying figure. But
+the hands were always just a little too late.
+You see, the owners of the tardy hands did
+not realize quickly enough that rash little
+Mabel actually meant to enter a building
+whose top floor was all in flames. She was
+fairly inside before the onlookers grasped
+the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"How perfectly foolish!" cried Marjory,
+stamping her foot in helpless rage. "Of
+course somebody'll get her out&mdash;there's two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+men going in now&mdash;but how perfectly silly
+for her to go in at all!"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel, however, was not feeling at all
+foolish. No, indeed. The little girl, to her
+own way of thinking, was doing a worthy,
+even a heroic, deed. She was rescuing the
+precious two dollars and forty-seven cents
+that her class had so laboriously raised to
+buy Miss Bonner a birthday gift. She
+would have liked to accomplish it in a little
+less spectacular manner, but, no other way
+being available, she had made the best of circumstances
+and was ignoring the crowd.
+She hoped, indeed, that no one had noticed
+her; with so much else to look at it seemed
+as if one small girl might easily remain unobserved.
+To be sure she was risking her
+life, the life of the only little girl that her
+parents possessed; but that seemed a small
+affair beside two dollars and forty-seven
+cents. The roof might fall, the cornice
+might drop, the huge chimney might collapse,
+the suffocating smoke or scorching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+flames might suddenly pour into that still
+unburned lower room. Let them! Heroes
+never stopped for such trifles with such a
+sum at stake.</p>
+
+<p>By this time, Jean, Marjory and Bettie
+were white and absolutely speechless with
+fear. Four firemen were sitting on Dr.
+Bennett to keep him from rushing in after
+the little girl he had promptly recognized as
+his own, and five women were supporting
+and encouraging Mrs. Bennett, who had
+grown too weak to stand although she still
+had her wits about her.</p>
+
+<p>"Fifty dollars reward," Mr. Black was
+shouting, "to the man that gets that child!"</p>
+
+<p>He would have gone after her himself,
+but Mrs. Crane had him firmly by the coat-tails
+and both Dr. and Mrs. Tucker were
+clinging to his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Be aisy, be aisy," Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman
+was murmuring to the world in
+general. "Miss Mabel's the kind thot's always
+escapin' jist be the skin av her teeth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+Rest aisy. Thim fire-laddies'll be havin'
+her out av thot dure in another jiffy."</p>
+
+<p>But, although the crowd rested as "aisy"
+as it could, the moments went by and no
+Mabel appeared.</p>
+
+<p>With every instant the fire grew worse.
+By this time, the smoke and angry sheets of
+flame had burst through the roof and were
+streaming, with a mighty, threatening roar,
+straight up into the blackened sky&mdash;a splendid
+sight that was visible for a long distance.
+There was no water to check the mighty
+fire, for, a very few moments after the hose
+had been attached, the hydrant had burst and
+the water that should have been busy quenching
+the fire was quietly drenching the feet
+of many an unheeding bystander.</p>
+
+<p>And presently the thing that everybody
+expected happened. With a lingering, horrible
+crash a large part of the upper floor
+dropped to the main hall below. Smoke
+poured from the lower doors and windows.
+In another moment leaping hungry flames<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+were visible in every room except the basement.
+The entire superstructure seemed
+now just like a gigantic, topless furnace;
+and of course it was no longer possible for
+even the firemen to venture inside.</p>
+
+<p>But <i>where</i> was Mabel?</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII<br />
+
+<small>A Heroine's Come-Down</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>MABEL, with the Janitor and four pursuing
+firemen at her reckless heels,
+had made a bold dash through the long corridor
+that led to Miss Bonner's room. Owing
+to a strong upward draft, there was
+surprisingly little smoke in this corridor and
+none at all in Miss Bonner's distant corner.</p>
+
+<p>Still hotly pursued, Mabel, who had the
+advantage of knowing exactly whither she
+was bound, darted down the narrow aisle,
+reached into her desk, and, unselfishly passing
+by sundry dearly loved treasures of her
+own, seized the fat brown purse. Such joy
+to find it when so many of the desks had
+been stripped of their contents!</p>
+
+<p>She was none too soon, for the next moment
+the Janitor's hands had closed upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+her and, plump as she was, the sturdy fellow
+easily carried her out of the room, although
+Mabel protested crossly that she would
+much rather walk. In this uncomfortable
+fashion they reached the corridor.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/i0132.jpg" width="310" height="500" alt="Man carrying girl under his arm" />
+<div class="caption">THE STURDY FELLOW CARRIED HER OUT OF THE ROOM.</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Not that way&mdash;not that way!" shouted
+the firemen, pointing towards a glowing,
+spreading patch on the ceiling of the main
+hall. "It's breaking through&mdash;you can't
+reach the door! It's not safe at that end."</p>
+
+<p>"Down to the basement!" shouted the
+Janitor, nodding toward a narrow doorway,
+through which the men promptly vanished.</p>
+
+<p>Then, seemingly, a new thought assailed
+the Janitor.</p>
+
+<p>"Open door number twelve," he shouted
+after the men.</p>
+
+<p>Then, hurriedly pushing up a sliding door
+at the safest end of the hall and murmuring
+"Quicker this way," the Janitor unceremoniously
+lifted Mabel and dropped her
+down the big dust-chute.</p>
+
+<p>What a place for a heroine! In spite of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+her surprise, Mabel felt deeply mortified. It
+was humiliating enough for a would-be
+rescuer to be rescued; but to be dropped
+down a horrid, stuffy dust-chute and to land
+with a queer, springy thud on a pile of sliding
+stuff&mdash;the contents of a dozen or more
+waste-baskets and the results of innumerable
+sweepings&mdash;was worse.</p>
+
+<p>In a very few seconds, the hasty Janitor
+had opened the lower door of the chute and,
+with the firemen standing by, was calmly
+hauling her out by her feet&mdash;Oh! She could
+<i>never</i> tell that part of it.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as if that were not bad enough,
+that inconsiderate Janitor seized her by the
+elbow and hurried her right into the coal bin,
+forced her to march over eighty tons of
+black, dusty, sliding coal and finally compelled
+her to crawl&mdash;yes, <i>crawl</i>&mdash;out of a
+small basement window on the safest side of
+the building. The only explanation that the
+rescuer vouchsafed was a gruff statement
+that the fire was "More to the other end"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
+and that short-cuts saved time. Mabel tried
+to tell him what <i>she</i> thought about it, but the
+Janitor seemed too excited to listen.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, by this time, the Bennetts, the
+Cottagers, the firemen, the Janitor's wife
+and most of the bystanders were in a perfectly
+dreadful state of mind; for the coal-hole
+window was not on their side of the
+building&mdash;Mabel was glad of that&mdash;so none
+of her friends witnessed her exit. The
+Cottagers, in particular, were clutching each
+other and fairly quaking with fear when a
+familiar voice behind them panted breathlessly:</p>
+
+<p>"I saved it, girls."</p>
+
+<p>Jean, Marjory and Bettie wheeled as one
+girl. It was certainly Mabel's voice, the
+shape and size were Mabel's, but the
+color&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" cried Jean, in a horrified tone.
+"Are you <i>burned</i>? Are you all burned up
+to a crisp?"</p>
+
+<p>But thoughtful Bettie, after one searching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+look to make certain that it really was
+Mabel, had not stopped to ask questions,
+nor to hear them answered. She remembered
+that the Bennetts were still anxious
+concerning their missing daughter, and
+straightway flew to relieve their minds.</p>
+
+<p>"She's safe, Mabel's safe," she shouted,
+running to the Bennetts, to Mr. Black, to
+the Tuckers, to all Mabel's friends, and completely
+forgetting her own usual shyness.
+"Yes, she's all safe. No, not burned; just
+scorched, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>Then everybody crowded around Mabel.
+Mrs. Bennett was about to kiss her, but
+desisted just in time.</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel!" she cried, as Jean had done.
+"Are you burned?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," mumbled Mabel, indignantly.
+"I'm not even singed. I&mdash;I just came out
+through the coal hole, but you needn't tell.
+That horrid Janitor dragged me out over a
+whole mountain of coal."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank Heaven!" breathed Mrs. Bennett.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" snorted Mabel, "that's a mighty
+queer thing to thank Heaven for, when it was
+only last night that I had a perfectly good
+bath. That's the meanest Janitor&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" demanded Dr. Bennett,
+eagerly. "I must thank him."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, "I must thank
+him too."</p>
+
+<p>"And I," said Dr. Tucker, "should like
+to shake hands with him."</p>
+
+<p>And would you believe it! Not a soul had
+a word of praise for Mabel's bravery. Not
+a person commended her for saving that
+precious purse. Instead, the local paper
+devoted a whole column to lauding the
+prompt action of that sickening Janitor, Dr.
+Bennett gave him a splendid gold watch, the
+School Board recommended him for a
+Carnegie medal&mdash;all because of the dust-chute.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let me hear any more," Dr. Bennett
+said that night, "about that miserable
+two dollars and forty-seven cents. I'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+rather give you two hundred and forty-seven
+dollars than have you take such risks."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mabel, meekly.
+"But you didn't say anything like that day
+before yesterday when I asked for three
+more cents to make it an even two-fifty. I
+must say I don't understand grown folks."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel, you go&mdash;go take that bath. And
+when you're clean enough to kiss, come back
+and say good-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," sighed Mabel, "but I <i>do</i> wish
+I <i>could</i> raise three more cents."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bennett fished two quarters and three
+pennies from his pocket and handed them to
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"There," said he, "you have an even
+three dollars, but I hope you won't consider
+it necessary to rescue them in case of any
+more fires."</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, there were no more fires;
+but the original one made up for this lack by
+lasting for an astonishing length of time.
+For seven days the school building continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+to burn in a safe but expensive manner;
+for the eighty tons of coal over which
+Mabel had walked so unwillingly had caught
+fire late in the afternoon and had burned
+steadily until entirely reduced to ashes. It
+was a strange, uncanny sight after dark to
+see the mighty ruin still lighted by a fitful
+glare from within. Only the four walls,
+the bare outer shell of the huge structure,
+remained. You see, all the rest of it had
+been wood&mdash;and steam pipes. Every splinter
+of wood was gone; but the pipes, and
+there seemed to be miles of them, were
+twisted like mighty serpents. They filled
+the cellar and seemed fairly to writhe in the
+scarlet glow. It made one think of dragons
+and volcanoes and things like that; and
+caused creepy feelings in one's spine.</p>
+
+<p>Even the dust-chute was gone. Mabel
+was glad of that. She hated to think of the
+Janitor proudly pointing it out to visitors
+and saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I once dropped a girl down there."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV<br />
+
+<small>A Birthday Party</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>BUT if Mabel derived little joy from
+her experience as a heroine, there was
+at least some satisfaction in knowing that
+there could be no school on Monday, for
+Mabel was decidedly partial toward holidays.</p>
+
+<p>"If I ever teach school," she often said,
+"there'll be two Saturdays every week and
+no afternoon sessions."</p>
+
+<p>Jean, however, really liked to go to school.
+So did Marjory, but Bettie was uncertain.</p>
+
+<p>"If," said Bettie, "I could go long
+enough to know what grade I belonged in it
+might be interesting; but when you only attend
+in patches it's sort of mixing. There's
+a little piece of me in three different grades."</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Crane realized that there
+could be no school on Monday, she too was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+pleased. She stopped a moment after
+church on Sunday to intercept the girls on
+their way to Sunday School.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" said she. "How spruce you
+look!"</p>
+
+<p>They did look "spruce." Tall Jean was all
+in brown, even to her gloves and overshoes.
+Marjory's trim little winter suit was of dark
+green broadcloth with gray furs, for neat
+Aunty Jane, whatever her other failings, always
+kept Marjory very beautifully dressed.
+Bettie's short, kilted skirt was red under a
+boyish black reefer that had once belonged
+to Dick, and a black hat that Bob had discarded
+as "too floppy" had been wired and
+trimmed with scarlet cloth to match the
+skirt. This hand-me-down outfit was very
+becoming to dark-eyed Bettie, but then,
+Bettie was pretty in anything. Plump
+Mabel was buttoned tightly into a navy blue
+suit. Although she had owned it for barely
+six weeks it was no longer big enough either
+lengthwise or sidewise.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But," said Mabel, cheerfully, "by holding
+my breath most of the time I can stand
+it for one hour on Sundays."</p>
+
+<p>"How would you like," asked Mrs. Crane,
+"to spend to-morrow with me and Rosa
+Marie?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'd love to," said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd like it a lot," said Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Just awfully," breathed Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, goody!" gurgled Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said Mrs. Crane, "I'm not
+altogether easy about Rosa Marie. I do
+every living thing I can think of, but someway
+I can't get inside that child's shell. I
+declare, it seems sometimes as if she really
+pities me for being so stupid. And I think
+she's falling off in her looks."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I <i>hope</i> not," cried Mabel, fervently.</p>
+
+<p>"No," agreed Marjory, "it certainly
+wouldn't do for Rosa Marie to fall off very
+<i>much</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"However," returned Mrs. Crane, loyally,
+"she might be very much worse and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+any rate she is warm and well fed, even if
+she does seem a bit&mdash;foreign. So that
+Janitor put you down through the dust-chute,
+did he, Mabel? You must have
+landed with quite a jolt."</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned Mabel, rather sulkily, for
+every one was mentioning the dust-chute.
+"I had all September's and October's sweepings
+to land on. It was all mushy and
+springy, like mother's bed."</p>
+
+<p>"How," pursued kindly Mrs. Crane, "did
+he get you out?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd&mdash;I'd rather not say," mumbled
+Mabel, flushing a brilliant crimson. No one
+else had thought to ask this dreaded question,
+and the papers, fortunately, had overlooked
+this detail.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" giggled teasing Marjory, "he
+<i>must</i> have dragged her out by her feet because
+she's so fat that she couldn't possibly
+have turned herself over in that narrow
+space. It's just like a chimney, you know.
+I've often looked down that place and wondered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+if Santa Claus could manage the trip
+down. Oh, Mabel! It must have been
+funny! Tell us about it."</p>
+
+<p>Mabel grinned, but it was rather a sickly
+grin.</p>
+
+<p>"First," she said, "he clawed out a lot
+of papers and stuff. Ugh! It was horrid
+to feel everything sliding right out from under
+me&mdash;I didn't know <i>how</i> far I was going
+to drop. Then he grabbed my two ankles
+and just jerked me out on the bias through
+the little door at the bottom. I suppose it
+was a lot quicker. But he <i>didn't</i> need to
+make me climb all that coal."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he did," returned Jean. "The
+cornice on the other three sides was all loose
+and flopping up and down in the flames.
+Pieces kept falling. The coal-bin side was
+the last to burn&mdash;the wind went the other
+way&mdash;and Miss Bonner's room was the last
+to catch fire."</p>
+
+<p>"That Janitor," declared Mrs. Crane,
+with conviction, "knew exactly what he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+about. Now, girls, you'll be sure to come
+to-morrow, won't you? I think it will do
+Rosa Marie good and there's a reason why
+I'd like a little company myself, but I shan't
+tell you just now what it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do," begged all four.</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned Mrs. Crane. "It's a
+secret, and not a living soul knows it but me.
+I'll tell you to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll <i>surely</i> come," promised the girls.</p>
+
+<p>Of course they kept their promise. The
+four Cottagers arrived very soon after
+breakfast, were let in most sedately by Mr.
+Black's man, who smiled when the unceremonious
+visitors rushed pell-mell past him to
+fall upon Mrs. Crane, who was watering
+plants in the breakfast room.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell us the secret!" shouted Mabel.
+"Oh&mdash;I mean good-morning!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning," smiled Mrs. Crane,
+setting the watering pot in a safe place.
+"The secret isn't a very big one. It's only
+that to-day is my birthday and I thought I'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+like to have a party. You're it. The cook
+is making me a birthday cake, but she doesn't
+know that it is a birthday cake."</p>
+
+<p>"Goody!" cried Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't Mr. Black know it's your birthday?"
+queried Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so. You see, it's a long
+time since Peter and I spent birthdays under
+the same roof, and men don't remember such
+things very well. We'll surprise him with
+the cake to-night. Now let's go to the
+nursery."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie's dull countenance brightened
+at sight of her four friends. She gave four
+solemn little bobs with her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy!" cried Marjory, "she's learning
+manners."</p>
+
+<p>"And see," said Bettie, "she's stringing
+beads."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a surprise," said Mrs. Crane,
+proudly. "I taught her that."</p>
+
+<p>"Fourteen," said Rosa Marie, unexpectedly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Goodness me!" cried Mabel. "Can
+she count?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly,
+"but not to depend on. In fact, fourteen
+is the only counting word she <i>can</i> say.
+Peter taught her that."</p>
+
+<p>"Fourteen," repeated Rosa Marie, holding
+up her string of beads.</p>
+
+<p>"You ridiculous baby!" laughed Mabel,
+hugging her. "Who are the pretty beads
+for?"</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie hurriedly clapped the string
+about her own brown throat.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," remonstrated Mrs. Crane.
+"You're making them for Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>But Rosa Marie set her small white teeth
+firmly together and continued to hold the
+beads against her own plump neck.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>She</i> knows whose beads they are,"
+laughed Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't teach her a single Christian virtue,"
+sighed Mrs. Crane. "There isn't one
+unselfish hair in that child's head."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"She's too young," encouraged Bettie.
+"All babies are little savages."</p>
+
+<p>"Not Anne Halliday," said Jean, who
+fairly worshiped her small cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"That's different," said Marjory. "Anne
+was born with manners."</p>
+
+<p>"The little Tuckers weren't," soothed
+Bettie. "Rosa Marie will be generous
+enough in time."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could believe it," sighed Mrs.
+Crane.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi, hi! What's all this racket?" cried
+Mr. Black from the doorway. "Is Rosa
+Marie doing all that talking? Get your
+things on quick, all of you, and come for a
+ride with me."</p>
+
+<p>"A ride!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane.
+"What in?"</p>
+
+<p>"An automobile," returned Mr. Black,
+turning to wink comically at Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"An automobile!" echoed Mrs. Crane.
+"I'd like to know whose. There's only one
+in town and I don't know the owners."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yours," twinkled Mr. Black. "It's
+your birthday present."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know that this was the
+day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I remembered," said Mr. Black,
+smiling rather tenderly at his old sister.
+"You <i>used</i> to have them on this day."</p>
+
+<p>"I do still," beamed Mrs. Crane. "That's
+why I invited the girls; they're my birthday
+party. But what's this about automobiles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only one. It's yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter Black! I don't believe you."</p>
+
+<p>"Look out the hall window."</p>
+
+<p>Everybody rushed to the big window in
+the front hall. Sure enough! A splendid
+motor car stood at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>"Peter," faltered Mrs. Crane, "have I
+<i>got</i> to ride in that? I've never set foot in
+one, and I'm sure I'd be scared to at
+this late day."</p>
+
+<p>"What! Not ride in your own automobile?
+Bless you, Sarah, in another week
+you'll refuse to stay out of it. Get your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+things on, everybody; and warm ones, too.
+Find extra wraps for these girls, Sarah.
+There's room for everybody but Rosa
+Marie."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, isn't that just like a man?" said
+Mrs. Crane, looking about helplessly.
+"Whose clothes does he think you're going
+to wear for 'extra wraps'? His, or
+mine?"</p>
+
+<p>Everybody laughed, for obviously Mr.
+Black's house was a poor one in which to
+find little girls' garments.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll stop at your houses," said he,
+"and pick up some duds. Besides, perhaps
+your mothers might like to know that you've
+been kidnaped. What! no hat on yet?
+Here, pin this on," said Mr. Black, handing
+Mrs. Crane a pink dust-cap. "I can't wait
+all day."</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy! That's not a bonnet," cried
+Mrs. Crane, scurrying away. "I'll be ready
+in two minutes."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XV<br />
+
+<small>An Unexpected Treat</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>"PETER," demanded Mrs. Crane, stopping
+short on the horse-block, "who's
+going to run that thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Not with me in it. You don't know
+how."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, I've been learning the business
+for five weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"So <i>that's</i> what has taken you to Bancroft
+every afternoon for all that time?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's exactly what," admitted Mr.
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>"And you're <i>sure</i>," queried Mrs. Crane,
+doubtfully, "that you understand all those
+fixings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every one of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you promise to go slow?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There's a fine for exceeding the speed
+limit," twinkled Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm glad of that," said Mrs.
+Crane, permitting her patient brother to
+help her into the vehicle. "My! but these
+cushions are soft."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Bettie, "it's just like sitting
+on baking powder biscuits before they're
+baked."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?" asked Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I've tried it. You see, ministers'
+wives are dreadfully interrupted persons,
+and one night when Mother was making
+biscuits some visitors came. Instead of
+popping one of the pans into the oven,
+mother dropped it on a dining-room chair
+on her way to the door and forgot all about
+it. When I came in to supper that chair
+was at my place and I flopped right down
+on those biscuits! And I had to <i>stay</i> sitting
+on them because Father had asked one
+of the visitors&mdash;<i>such</i> a particular-looking
+person&mdash;to stay to tea; and I knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
+Mother wouldn't want a perfectly strange
+man to know about it."</p>
+
+<p>"That was certainly thoughtful," smiled
+Mr. Black. "Now, is every one comfortable?
+If she is, we'll go for those extra
+wraps."</p>
+
+<p>The new machine rolled down the street
+and turned the corner in the neatest way
+imaginable. Mrs. Crane looked decidedly
+uneasy at first; but when Mr. Black had
+successfully steered the birthday present
+past the ice wagon, a coal team, a prancing
+pony and two street cars, she folded the
+hands that had been nervously clutching the
+side of the car and leaned back with a relieved
+sigh.</p>
+
+<p>But when Mabel asked a question, Mrs.
+Crane silenced her quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk to him," she implored.
+"There's no telling <i>what</i> might happen to
+us if he were to take any part of his mind off
+that&mdash;that helm, for even a single second.
+Don't even <i>look</i> at him."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What did happen was this. After the
+extra wraps had been collected and donned,
+Mr. Black carried his charges all the way to
+Bancroft, a distance of seventeen miles, in
+perfect safety. The road was good, the day
+was mild and the only team they passed
+obligingly turned in at its own gate before
+they reached it. They stopped in front of
+the biggest and best hotel in Bancroft.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody out for dinner," ordered Mr.
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Peter," expostulated Mrs. Crane,
+hanging back, bashfully, "I'm in my every-day
+clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this isn't Sunday; and you always
+look well dressed. You're a very neat
+woman, Sarah."</p>
+
+<p>"Well I <i>am</i> neat, but black alpaca isn't
+silk even if my sleeves <i>are</i> this year's. And
+for goodness' sake, Peter, don't ask me to
+pronounce any of that bill of fare if it isn't
+plain every-day English, for you know there
+isn't a French fiber in my tongue. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+order for me. There's only one thing I
+can't eat and that's parsnips."</p>
+
+<p>It was a very nice dinner and plain
+English enough to suit even matter-of-fact
+Mrs. Crane. After the first few bashful
+moments, the four girls chattered so merrily
+that all the guests at other tables caught
+themselves listening and smiling sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"I never ate a really truly hotel dinner
+before," confided Bettie, happily.</p>
+
+<p>"And to think," sighed Jean, contentedly,
+"of doing it without knowing you were
+going to! That always makes things
+nicer."</p>
+
+<p>"And I <i>never</i> expected to ride in a navy-blue
+automobile," murmured Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Or to have four kinds of potatoes,"
+breathed Mabel, who sat half surrounded by
+empty dishes&mdash;"little birds' bath-tubs," she
+called them.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be a vegetarian," smiled Mr.
+Black.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"N-no," denied Mabel. "Only a potatorian."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel!" objected Marjory. "There
+isn't any such word."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there is," returned Mabel, calmly.
+"I just made it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm sure," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I
+never expected to have any such birthday as
+this."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said Mr. Black, giving his sister's
+plump elbow a kindly squeeze, "this is
+a good many birthdays rolled into one."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems hard," mourned Mabel, who
+was earnestly scanning the bill of fare, "to
+read about so many kinds of dessert when
+you've room enough left for only three. I
+wish I'd began saving space sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"You're in luck," laughed Bettie. "A
+very small, thin one is all <i>I</i> can manage&mdash;pineapple
+ice, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway," said Marjory, "I shan't
+choose bread pudding. We have that
+every Tuesday and Friday at home. Aunty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+Jane has regular times for everything, so I
+always know just what's coming. I'm
+going to have something different&mdash;hot
+mince pie, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"Ice-cream," said Jean, "with hot chocolate
+sauce."</p>
+
+<p>"Bring <i>me</i>," said Mabel, turning to the
+waiter, "hot mince pie, ice-cream with hot
+chocolate sauce and a pineapple ice with
+little cakes."</p>
+
+<p>"Bring little cakes for everybody," added
+Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, "I don't
+know when I've been so hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"Now," remarked Mr. Black, half an
+hour later, "I think we'd better be jogging
+along toward home because it won't be as
+warm when the sun goes down and I want
+to show you some of the sights in Bancroft&mdash;there's
+a pretty good candy shop a few
+blocks from here&mdash;before we start toward
+Lakeville. We can run down in about an
+hour."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Peter," demanded Mrs. Crane, "what
+<i>is</i> that speed limit?"</p>
+
+<p>"About eight miles an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Hum&mdash;and it's seventeen miles&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Sarah, don't go to doing arithmetic&mdash;you
+know you were never very good
+at it. If I were to keep strictly within that
+limit you'd all want to get out and push.
+Got all your wraps? Whose muff is this?
+Here's a glove. Whose neck belongs to this
+pussy-cat thing? Here's a handkerchief and
+two more gloves&mdash;Well, well! It's a good
+thing you had somebody along to gather up
+your duds. What! My hat? Why, that's
+so, I <i>did</i> have a cap&mdash;here it is in my coat
+pocket."</p>
+
+<p>There was still time after the pleasant ride
+home for a good frolic with Rosa Marie and
+a cozy meal with Mrs. Crane; strangely
+enough, everybody was again hungry enough
+to enjoy the big birthday cake and the
+good apple-sauce that went with it. Then
+Mr. Black carried them all home in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+motor car and delivered each damsel at her
+own door. But only one stayed delivered,
+for the other three immediately ran around
+the block to meet at Jean's always popular
+home. You see, they had to talk it all over
+without the restraint of their host's presence.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Mabel, ecstatically, "that
+Mr. Black is just too dear for words. <i>Some</i>
+folks are too stingy to live, with their automobiles
+and horses and never <i>think</i> of giving
+anybody a ride."</p>
+
+<p>"He's certainly very generous," agreed
+Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," ventured Marjory, meditatively,
+"he has plenty of money or he
+couldn't do nice things."</p>
+
+<p>"He would anyway," declared Bettie.
+"It's the way he's made. Don't you remember
+how Mrs. Crane was always being
+good to people even when she was so dreadfully
+poor? Well, Mr. Black would be just
+like that, too, even if he hadn't a single dollar.
+He has a Santa Claus heart."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There <i>are</i> folks," admitted Marjory,
+"that wouldn't know how to give anybody a
+good time if they had all the money in the
+world. There's Aunty Jane, for instance.
+She's a <i>very</i> good woman, with a terribly
+pricking conscience, and I know she'd like
+to make things pleasant for me if she knew
+how, but she doesn't, poor thing. She
+doesn't know a good time when she sees one.
+And Mrs. Howard Slater doesn't, either."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-evening, girls," said Mrs. Mapes,
+coming in with a newspaper in her hand.
+"I <i>thought</i> I heard voices in here. Have
+you had a nice day? You're just in time to
+read the paper; there's something in it that
+will interest you."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI<br />
+
+<small>A Scattered School</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>IT seemed too bad for such a delightful
+day to end sorrowfully, but the evening
+paper certainly brought disquieting news.
+It stated that the School Board hoped to
+provide, within a very few days, suitable
+schoolrooms for all the pupils. And, in
+another item, the unfeeling editor complimented
+the Board on its enterprise.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like that Board a whole lot better,"
+said Marjory, "if it weren't so enterprising.
+I s'posed we were going to have at least a
+month to play in."</p>
+
+<p>"Just before Christmas, too," grumbled
+Mabel. "They might at least have waited
+until I'd finished Father's shoe-bag. And
+what do you think? Mother says I'd better
+give that Janitor a Christmas present!"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps the paper is mistaken," soothed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+Jean. "You know it always is about the
+weather reports. If it says 'Fair,' it's sure
+to rain; and when it says 'Colder,' it's quite
+certain to be warm. Besides, there isn't a
+place in town big enough for all that
+school."</p>
+
+<p>But this time it was Jean and not the
+paper that was mistaken. In just a few
+days the School Board announced that its
+hopes were realized. It had found "suitable
+quarters" for all the classes. Two
+grades went into the basement of the Baptist
+Church. The underground portion of the
+Methodist edifice accommodated two more.
+The A. O. U. W. Hall opened its doors to
+three others. A benevolent private citizen
+took in the kindergarten. A downtown
+store hastily transformed itself from an unsuccessful
+harness shop into nearly as unsuccessful
+a haven for two other grades.
+The City Hall gave up its Council Chamber
+to the Seniors, and the Masons loaned their
+dining-room to the Juniors, without, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+providing any refreshment. The enterprising
+Board had telegraphed for desks
+the very day of the fire; and as soon as that
+dreadfully prompt furniture arrived, it was
+remorselessly screwed into place. The Stationer,
+too, had speedily ordered books.
+They, too, traveled with unseemly haste
+from New York to Lakeville. By Thursday,
+less than a week after the fire, there
+were desks and seats and books for everybody;
+and would you believe it, they even
+kept school on Saturday, that week!</p>
+
+<p>And now, an utterly unforeseen thing happened.
+Hitherto Jean, who was usually the
+first to be ready, had stopped for Marjory
+and Bettie. All three had stopped to finish
+dressing Mabel, who always needed a great
+deal of assistance, and then all four had
+walked merrily to school together. But
+now this happy scheme was entirely ruined,
+for here was Jean doing algebra under the
+Baptist roof, Bettie struggling with grammar
+in the Methodist basement, Marjory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+climbing two long flights of stairs to the
+A. O. U. W. Hall and Mabel passing six
+saloons to reach her desk in the made-over
+harness shop.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't just what we'd choose," apologized
+the School Board, "but it won't last
+forever. We'll build just as soon as we
+can."</p>
+
+<p>Except for the inconvenience of having
+to go to school separately the children were
+rather pleased with the novelty of moving
+into such unusual quarters as the Board had
+provided; but the mothers were not at all
+satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"That Baptist cellar is damp and Jean's
+throat is delicate," complained Mrs. Mapes.
+"I know she'll be sick half the winter; but
+of course she'll have to go to school there as
+long as there's no better place."</p>
+
+<p>"That Methodist Church is no place for
+children," declared Mrs. Tucker. "Its
+brick walls were condemned seven years ago
+and it's likely to fall down at any moment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+even if they did brace it up with iron bands.
+But Bettie's too far behind now for me to
+take her out of school, so I suppose she'll just
+have to risk having that church tumble in
+on her."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a shame," sputtered Aunty Jane,
+"for Marjory to climb all those stairs twice
+a day. It's all very well for the Ancient
+Order of United Workmen to climb two
+flights with grown-up legs, but it isn't right
+for delicate girls. However, there's no help
+for it just now, and I can't say I blame the
+child for sliding down the banisters, though
+of course I do scold her for it."</p>
+
+<p>"There are saloons on both sides of that
+harness shop," said Mrs. Bennett, "and six
+more this side of it, besides a livery stable
+that is always full of loafers and bad language.
+Mabel has never been allowed to go
+to that part of town alone, and now I have
+to send a maid with her twice a day. But
+of course she has to go, even if the maid
+<i>is</i> more timid than Mabel is."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"By next year," consoled the Board,
+"we'll have a bigger and better schoolhouse
+than the old one. In the meantime we must
+all have patience."</p>
+
+<p>Except that Mabel, without the others to
+get her started, was always late and that
+Bettie, without Marjory to coach her on the
+way, found it difficult to learn her lessons,
+school life went on very much as usual, for
+matters soon settled down as things always
+do and Lakeville turned its attention to
+fresher problems.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Bettie, indeed, was busier than ever
+because Miss Rossitor, the Domestic Science
+teacher, whose classes were temporarily
+housed in the Methodist kitchen, discovered
+that Bettie could draw. Every day or two
+she asked Bettie to remain after school to
+copy needed illustrations on the blackboard.
+One day, Miss Rossitor demanded a cow.
+She needed it, she explained, to show her
+class the different cuts of meat.</p>
+
+<p>"A side view of a plain cow," said she.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Bettie, reflectively nibbling
+the fresh stick of chalk, "that I could
+do the outside of that cow, but I know I
+couldn't get his veal cutlets in the proper
+spot."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you a diagram," smiled Miss
+Rossitor, "for I see very plainly, that it
+wouldn't be safe not to."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps Miss Bettie thinks," ventured
+a belated pupil, a pink-cheeked girl with an
+impertinent nose, "that one cow is a whole
+butcher shop."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," returned Miss Rossitor, meaningly,
+"it isn't a great while since some
+other folks were of the same opinion. But,
+since you are now so very much wiser, you
+may label the parts after Bettie has drawn
+them."</p>
+
+<p>The girl made such a comical face that
+Bettie's gravity was in sad danger, but she
+accepted the chalk. On the cow's shoulder
+she printed "Pork sausages," on the flank,
+"Mutton chops," on the backbone, "Oysters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
+on the half-shell," on the breast,
+"buttons."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie looked puzzled and doubtful but
+Miss Rossitor laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>"Henrietta Bedford," she said, "you're
+a complete humbug. If you don't settle
+down to business you won't get home to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to walk home with Bettie,"
+returned Henrietta, quickly substituting the
+proper labels. "I can easily write out that
+luncheon menu while she's putting feathers
+on the cow's tail."</p>
+
+<p>And the new girl did walk home with
+Bettie, and teased her so merrily all the long
+way that Bettie didn't know whether to like
+her or not.</p>
+
+<p>Near the Cottage they met Jean, Marjory
+and Mabel just starting out to look for belated
+Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"This," said Bettie introducing her
+new acquaintance, "is Henrietta&mdash;Henrietta&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Plantagenet," assisted Henrietta Bedford,
+smoothly. "I am really a Duchess in
+disguise, but I've left all my retainers in Ohio
+and I'm simply dying for friends. This is
+my day for collecting them&mdash;I always collect
+friends on Tuesdays. You are indeed
+fortunate to have happened upon me on
+Tuesday. But, Elizabeth, why not finish
+your introductions?"</p>
+
+<p>"This," obeyed overwhelmed Bettie, "is
+Jean, this is Marjory and this is Mabel
+Bennett."</p>
+
+<p>"What! The Damsel of the Dust-chute!
+I am indeed honored."</p>
+
+<p>Then, as her quick eye traveled over
+Mabel's plump figure, Henrietta added
+wickedly:</p>
+
+<p>"Was that chute built to fit?"</p>
+
+<p>Mabel flushed angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"It is I," apologized Henrietta, "that
+should wear those blushes. Forgive me,
+dear Damsel. I have an over-quick tongue
+and all my speeches are followed by repentance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+But I have a warm heart and I'm
+really much nicer than I sound. See, I
+kneel at your insulted feet."</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon this ridiculous girl with the
+impertinent nose flopped down on her knees
+on the sidewalk and made such comically
+repentant faces that all four giggled merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Get up, you goose," laughed Mabel.
+"Your apology is accepted."</p>
+
+<p>"Come along with us," urged Jean.
+"We're going to have hot chocolate at our
+house. Mother is trying to fatten Marjory,
+Bettie and me."</p>
+
+<p>"She seems to succeed best with&mdash;hum&mdash;no
+personal remarks, please. Dear maiden,
+I will inspect your home from the outside,
+but I regret that I'm strictly forbidden to go
+<i>in</i>side any strange house without my grandmother's
+permission. You'll have to call on
+me first. She is <i>very</i> particular in such
+matters. But," added Henrietta, with a
+sudden twinkle, "I'm not. So, if you'll
+kindly rush in and make that chocolate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+there's no earthly reason why I shouldn't
+stand just outside your gate and drink it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," cried Bettie, "is it possible that
+you're Mrs. Howard Slater's new granddaughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am," admitted Henrietta, "but I'm
+not so new as you seem to think. She has
+owned me for fourteen years. Now, hustle
+up that chocolate. I've just remembered
+that I'm to have a dress tried on at four. It
+is now half-past."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII<br />
+
+<small>An Invitation</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>"BETTIE," asked Jean, when the girls
+were "hustling up" the chocolate in
+Mrs. Mapes' kitchen (the weather was now
+too cold for Dandelion Cottage to be habitable),
+"where did you find her?"</p>
+
+<p>"At school," replied Bettie. "She comes
+in for Domestic Science. I've seen her
+about three times, and every time she's had
+that stiff Miss Rossitor laughing. You
+know who that girl is, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard something," said Marjory,
+"but I can't just remember what, about some
+girl named Henrietta."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you've seen Mrs. Howard
+Slater?"</p>
+
+<p>All the girls had seen Mrs. Slater, the
+beautifully gowned, decidedly aristocratic
+old lady with abundant but perfectly white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+hair and bright, sparkling black eyes. Mrs.
+Slater, who seemed a very reserved and exclusive
+person, had spent many summers and
+even an occasional winter in her own handsome
+home in Lakeville. She lived alone
+except for a number of servants; for both
+her son and her daughter were married.
+The son lived abroad, no one knew just
+where; and some four years previously Mrs.
+Slater's daughter, who was Henrietta's
+mother, had died in Rome. Since that
+event Henrietta had been cared for by her
+uncle's wife; and she had spent a winter in
+California and another in Florida with her
+grandmother, but this was her first visit to
+Lakeville. It was said that Henrietta's
+mother had left her little daughter a very
+respectable fortune, that her father, an
+English traveler of note, was also wealthy,
+and it was known to a certainty that Mrs.
+Howard Slater was a moneyed person.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Marjory, replying to Bettie's
+question, "we sit behind Mrs. Slater in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+church, and she's the very daintiest old lady
+that ever lived. She's as slim and straight
+as any young girl. She's perfectly lovely to
+look at, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, 'but,'" agreed Jean. "She seems
+very proud and not very&mdash;get-nearable. I
+don't know whether I'd like to live with her
+or not; but I know I'd feel terribly set up
+to own a few relatives that <i>looked</i> like that."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you like Henrietta?" asked
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I," replied Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"It takes time," declared Marjory, "to
+discover whether you like a person or not.
+And when it's such a different person&mdash;truly,
+she isn't a bit like any other girl in this town&mdash;it
+takes longer."</p>
+
+<p>"The chocolate's ready," announced Jean,
+opening a box of wafers. "Here, Bettie,
+you carry Henrietta's cup and I'll take these.
+Let's <i>all</i> have our chocolate on the sidewalk."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Henrietta, her hands in her pockets, was
+leaning against the fence and humming a
+tune. Her voice, in speaking, was very
+nicely modulated&mdash;which was fortunate, because
+she used it a great deal. She straightened
+up when the door opened.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm an icicle," said she. "I hope that
+chocolate's good and hot. My! What a
+nice big cup! And wafers! I'm glad I
+stayed for your party. I've had chocolate
+in France, in Germany, in Italy, in Switzerland
+and in England, but I do believe this is
+the very first time I've had any in America."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry," said Jean, "that you have
+to have your first on the sidewalk."</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't, next time," promised Henrietta.
+"I have a beautiful plan. I made it
+while waiting for the chocolate. You're all
+to come after school to-morrow and pay me
+a formal call. Then I'll return it. After
+that, I suspect I shall be allowed to run in.
+But first you'll have to call, formally."</p>
+
+<p>"A formal call!" gasped Bettie.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We never made a formal call in all our
+lives," objected Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"They're dreadful," agreed Henrietta,
+"but in this case you'll really have to do it.
+I've planned it all nicely. In the first place,
+you must hand your cards to the butler&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Cards!" gasped Jean and Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Cards!" snorted Mabel, flushing indignantly.
+"We haven't a card to our
+names!"</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>must</i> have them," declared Henrietta,
+firmly, "or Simmons may consider you
+suspicious characters. Simmons is a very
+lofty person. You can write some, you
+know, because Simmons holds his chin so
+high that it interferes with the view, so he'll
+never know what's on them. Then you
+must be very polite to Grandmother and say
+'Yes, ma'am,' 'No, ma'am,' 'Thank you,
+ma'am'&mdash;and not very much else. You've
+seen Grandmother, of course? Then you
+know how very formal and stiff she looks.
+Well, <i>you</i> must be like that, too."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll try," said Mabel, "but it'll be pretty
+hard work."</p>
+
+<p>"Be sure to wear gloves," cautioned
+Henrietta. "Grandmother is exceedingly
+particular about shoes and gloves. I know
+it's a lot of trouble, but you'll find it pays;
+for after you've beaten down the icy barrier
+that surrounds me, you'll find me quite a
+comfortable person. And <i>do</i> come just as
+early as you can&mdash;I'm really desperately
+lonely."</p>
+
+<p>This was a different Henrietta from the
+merry one that Bettie had encountered.
+That other Henrietta had made her laugh.
+This one, with the wistful, sorrowful countenance
+and the four words "I'm really
+desperately lonely," was almost moving her
+to tears.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll surely come," pleaded Henrietta.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll come," promised Bettie, "cards
+and all."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>," said Henrietta, carefully
+balancing her cup on the top rail of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+fence. "I must run along now to try on
+my clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Was that French?" queried Mabel, gazing
+after the departing figure.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so," replied Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"She can certainly talk English fast
+enough," said Marjory. "I suppose just
+one language <i>isn't</i> enough for anybody that
+chatters like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think," asked Bettie, "she
+meant all that about cards and gloves and
+butlers? She's so full of fun most of the
+time that I don't exactly know whether to
+believe her or not."</p>
+
+<p>"I think she did," said Marjory. "You
+see, I sit behind Mrs. Slater in church&mdash;and
+I'm thankful that it's behind."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps that's the reason," ventured
+Bettie, "that nobody'll rent the three pews
+in front of her. Father says it's hard to
+even give them away. No one likes to sit
+in them."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," agreed Marjory. "One<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+would have to be sure that her back hair was
+absolutely perfect to be at all comfortable in
+front of Mrs. Slater."</p>
+
+<p>"And that," groaned discouraged Mabel,
+"is the sort of person I'm to make my first
+formal call on."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better take your bath to-night,"
+advised Jean, "and lay out all your very
+best clothes. And don't forget to polish
+your shoes."</p>
+
+<p>"Father has some blank cards," said
+Bettie, "and he writes beautifully. I'll get
+him to do cards for all of us."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Marjory, with a puzzled
+air, "that we ought to take five or six apiece.
+I know Aunty Jane leaves a whole lot at one
+house, sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>"No," corrected Jean, "we need just two.
+One for Mrs. Slater and one for Henrietta.
+My aunt, Mrs. Halliday, always gets two
+whenever her sister-in-law is visiting there."</p>
+
+<p>"There are holes in my best gloves,"
+mourned Bettie. "They came in a missionary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
+box, and missionary gloves are
+never very good even to start with. Besides,
+Dick wore them first&mdash;I never had a <i>new</i>
+pair of kid gloves."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," said always generous
+Mabel. "I must have about six pairs and
+I've never had any of the things on. I
+know I've outgrown some of them. Your
+hands are lots smaller than mine. Come
+over and I'll fix you out&mdash;Mother said we'd
+have to give them to somebody and I guess
+you're just exactly the right somebody. I
+hate the thing myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Goody!" rejoiced Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," said Jean, "that my shoes were
+newer, but I'll get the boys to black 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help <i>you</i> out," laughed Mabel.
+"My shoes are short and fat and yours are
+long and slim."</p>
+
+<p>"A coat of Wallace's blacking will be all
+that's needed, thank you, Mabel. There's
+nothing like having brothers when it comes
+to blacking shoes."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to get up a little earlier to-morrow
+morning," said Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy!" exclaimed Jean, "are you
+leaving all those chocolate cups on the fence
+for <i>me</i> to carry in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," said obliging Bettie,
+seizing two. "Come on, you lazy people."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII<br />
+
+<small>Obeying Instructions</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE four girls were wonderfully excited
+all the next day. They were restless
+in school and fidgety at home.</p>
+
+<p>"A body would think," scoffed Aunty
+Jane, at noon, "that you were going to your
+own wedding. Don't worry so. I'll have
+everything ready for you to put on the moment
+you get out of school."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank you," breathed Marjory,
+fervently. "That'll help a lot; but I do
+hope that Bettie's father will remember to
+do those cards. And, Aunty Jane, <i>could</i> you
+lend me a perfectly inkless hankerchief?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jumping January!" growled Wallace
+Mapes, Jean's older brother. "That makes
+nineteen times, Jean, that you've reminded
+me of those miserable shoes. I'll black
+them when I've finished lunch. I'm not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+going to rush off in the middle of my oyster
+soup to black <i>any</i>body's best shoes."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a reception?" asked Roger.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Wallace, "just a formal
+call on Henrietta Bedford."</p>
+
+<p>"She's in my French class," said Roger.
+"And kippered snakes! You ought to hear
+her recite. She talks up and down and all
+around poor little Miss McGinnis, whose
+French was made right here in Lakeville.
+It's a daily picnic."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't forget my shoes, will you?"
+reminded anxious Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to know how I <i>could</i>," demanded
+Wallace, feelingly.</p>
+
+<p>Although Mabel had taken a most complete
+bath the night before, she spent the
+noon-hour taking another. She put on her
+best stockings and shoes, but looked doubtfully
+at her Sunday suit.</p>
+
+<p>"If I have to do my language in ink," reflected
+she, "it'll be all up with my clothes.
+I'll just have to change after school."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The girls were out by half-past three.
+Fortunately, Miss Rossitor needed no more
+cows that afternoon, so Bettie was home in
+good season. All four dressed speedily.
+Three of them got into their gloves unassisted;
+but Jean, Marjory and Bettie found
+plump, impatient Mabel seated on the piano
+stool with her mother working over one
+hand, her perspiring father over the other.
+Several other gloves that had proved too
+small were scattered on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't think," said Mabel, greeting
+her friends with an expressive grimace,
+"that <i>I</i> ever picked out these lemon-colored
+frights. Somebody sent 'em for Christmas.
+None of the pretty ones were big enough&mdash;I've
+tried four pairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither are these," returned Mrs. Bennett,
+"and the color certainly is outrageous,
+but it's Hobson's choice. And just remember,
+Mabel, if you touch a single door-knob
+they'll be black before you get there.
+And don't put your hands in your pockets.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
+And <i>please</i> don't rub them along the fences.
+There! Mine's on as far as it will go."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/i0186.jpg" width="600" height="387" alt="Four girls in hats and coats" />
+<div class="caption">THE DECIDEDLY DEPRESSED FOUR STARTED DOWN THE STREET.</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I guess you'd better finish this one,"
+said Dr. Bennett, abandoning his task.
+"I rather tackle a case of smallpox than
+wrestle with another job like that. She'd
+look much better in mittens."</p>
+
+<p>"Mittens!" snubbed Mabel. "You can't
+make formal calls in mittens! Now, Somebody,
+please put me into my jacket and hat,
+if I'm not to touch anything."</p>
+
+<p>The decidedly depressed four, in their
+Sunday best, started down the street.
+Mabel's gloves, owing to their brilliant
+color, were certainly conspicuous, and unconsciously
+she made them more so by the careful
+and rigid manner in which she carried
+them. It was plain that she had them very
+much on her mind. And when her hat tilted
+forward over one eye she left it there rather
+than risk damaging those immaculate lemon-hued
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p>"Take my muff," implored Marjory.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+"That yellow splendor lights up the whole
+street."</p>
+
+<p>"No, siree," declined Mabel. "If Mrs.
+Slater wants gloves she's going to have 'em.
+Do you think I'm going to suffer like this
+and not have 'em <i>show</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>So Mabel, a swollen, imprisoned but
+gorgeous hand dangling at each side, a big
+navy-blue hat flopping over one eye, strutted
+muffless down the street.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the house," announced Jean, as
+they turned the corner. "That big one
+with the covered driveway."</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh!" shuddered Marjory, "it gives
+me chills to think of ringing such a wealthy
+doorbell. Are the cards safe, Bettie? My!
+I hope you haven't lost them."</p>
+
+<p>"In my pocket in an envelope," assured
+Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you see any white?" queried Jean,
+nervously. "I think my top petticoat has
+broken loose."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems all right," said Marjory, stooping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+to test it with little sharp jerks. "Firm
+as the Rock of Gibraltar."</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be if you pull like that," objected
+Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody open the gate," requested
+Mabel. "I can't touch things."</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody stand up straight," commanded
+Marjory. "We must look our
+best when we go up the walk."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I hadn't come," demurred Bettie,
+hanging back, diffidently. "Let's wait till
+it's darker."</p>
+
+<p>"No," asserted Jean. "We'd better get
+it over."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," agreed Mabel, "I don't want to
+wear these gloves a minute longer than I
+have to."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," sighed Bettie, despondently,
+"but you go first, Jean."</p>
+
+<p>They had waited on the imposing doorstep
+for a long five minutes when it occurred
+to Marjory to ask if any one had pushed the
+bell.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Jean, with a surprised air.
+"I thought <i>you</i> had."</p>
+
+<p>"And I," said Bettie, "supposed that
+Mabel had."</p>
+
+<p>"How could I," demanded Mabel, hotly,
+"in these gloves?"</p>
+
+<p>And then, all four began to giggle.
+Never before had such an inopportune fit of
+helpless, hysterical giggling seized the Cottagers.
+No one could stop. Tears rolled
+down Mabel's plump cheeks, and, fettered
+by her lemon-colored gloves, she had to let
+them roll, until Bettie wiped them away. And
+that set them all off again. In the midst of
+it Marjory's sharp elbow inadvertently struck
+the push-bell and Simmons, the imposing,
+much-dreaded butler, opened the door. Instantly
+the giggling ceased. Four exceedingly
+solemn little girls filed into the big hall.
+Bettie groped nervously for her pocket,
+found it and endeavored to extract the
+cards. But the large, stiff envelope stuck
+and, for a long, embarrassing moment, Bettie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
+fumbled in vain; while the butler, his
+chin "very high and scornful" as Marjory
+said afterwards, waited.</p>
+
+<p>At last the cards were out. Diffident
+Bettie dropped them, envelope and all, on
+the extended plate; but Jean deftly seized
+the envelope and shook out the cards. Next
+followed a most unhappy moment. Simmons
+was evidently expecting them to do
+<i>something</i>, they hadn't the remotest idea
+what.</p>
+
+<p>Then, to their great relief, there was a
+sudden "swish" of silken skirts, a flash of
+scarlet and lively Henrietta, who had slid
+down the broad banister, was greeting them
+warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandmother's out," said she. "Come
+up to my room and have a real visit before
+she gets back. Simmons, just toddle down
+to the lower regions for some fruit and anything
+else you can find; send them up to my
+room."</p>
+
+<p>Something very like a smile flitted across<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+Simmons's wooden countenance. Perhaps
+it amused him to be ordered to "toddle."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like my new gown?" queried
+Henrietta, leading the way upstairs and
+flirting her accordion-pleated skirts in graceful
+fashion. "It's my dinner dress. I
+have to dress for dinner every night&mdash;such
+a fuss for just two of us. Come in here&mdash;this
+is my sitting-room."</p>
+
+<p>"How very odd," said Jean, finding her
+voice at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it?" laughed Henrietta, shaking
+her brown curls. She wore them tied back
+with two enormous black bows. "Grandmother's
+a mixture of everything, you know&mdash;French,
+English, New York Dutch&mdash;and
+her furniture shows it. Lots of it came
+from Europe and Father picked up things
+in India and China&mdash;such a jolly dad as he
+is. That's why this place is such a jumble."</p>
+
+<p>"I like it," declared Jean. "It looks interesting&mdash;as
+if there were lovely stories
+in it."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There are," said Henrietta, drawing
+aside a heavy, silken curtain, "and I keep
+making new ones to fit. This is my bedroom,
+this next one is my dressing-room and
+this is my bath."</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh!" shuddered Mabel, "do you take
+shower baths?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every morning," laughed Henrietta.</p>
+
+<p>"What a lovely dressing table!" exclaimed
+Bettie, peering into the oval mirror
+and smiling into her own dark eyes. "I
+never saw such pretty things, even in a
+catalogue."</p>
+
+<p>"It's French," said Henrietta, "but all
+those little jeweled boxes came from Calcutta&mdash;Father
+just loves to buy little boxes
+with inlaid tops. Oh, here's Greta, with
+things to eat." Henrietta hastily swept her
+belongings from a dainty little table and the
+smiling maid deposited the heavy tray.</p>
+
+<p>"Tangerines, nuts, figs and sponge cake,"
+chattered Henrietta. "That's very nice,
+Greta. Help yourselves to chairs, girls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+Here's a tabouret for you, little Marjory.
+Catch, Jean," and the merry little hostess
+tossed a golden tangerine to Jean. "Oh,
+wait," she added. "You mustn't take off
+your gloves or get them soiled, because
+Grandmother always gets in about this time,
+and you know you must be very formal with
+Grandmother. I'll peel them for you. Now
+draw up closer. You mustn't spot your
+gloves, so I'll feed you. First, a bit of
+sponge cake all around. Now an almond.
+Now the orange. Oh, I'm forgetting myself!
+Now more sponge cake."</p>
+
+<p>"This is fine," said Bettie. "I'm always
+hungry after school."</p>
+
+<p>"So am I," said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"If I'd s'posed," said Mabel, "that formal
+calls were like this, I'd have started
+sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a different person every time
+anybody sees you?" asked Bettie, curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" queried Henrietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," explained Bettie, "you seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+so very changeable. You're a mischief in
+school, yesterday you seemed almost sad and
+to-day you're so polite."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>thank</i> you," said Henrietta, rising
+to sweep a deep and very much exaggerated
+courtesy. "Nobody <i>ever</i> before said that I
+was polite."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Henrietta," said Greta, tapping at
+the door, "the carriage has just turned the
+corner."</p>
+
+<p>"Follow me," said Henrietta, with an instant
+change of tone, as she hurriedly
+brushed the crumbs from her lap and pulled
+Mabel's jacket into place. "Follow me and
+don't make a sound. It's time to be formal."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX<br />
+
+<small>With Henrietta</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THROUGH a long corridor, around
+several corners and down two flights
+of back stairs, the formal callers, their
+hearts in their throats, followed Henrietta,
+who finally paused at the basement
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"There," said Henrietta, mysteriously,
+"you're safe at last. Now listen. You
+must slip out through the alley, walk slowly
+round the block, approach the house with
+dignity, ring the doorbell and present your
+cards to Simmons."</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we can't," faltered Bettie. "He
+has them <i>now</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll poke them out through the letter
+slot," laughed resourceful Henrietta.
+"You're not going to escape that formal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+call. Wait, your hat's over one ear, Mabel.
+There now, you're perfectly lovely. Now
+don't forget to pick up the cards."</p>
+
+<p>Entirely bewildered by Henrietta's pranks,
+the conventional visitors walked out through
+the alley, strolled round the block and nervously
+ascended the front steps. There, sure
+enough, were eight white cards popping out
+through the letter slot.</p>
+
+<p>"My goodness!" gasped Jean, "they're
+not <i>our</i> cards. This one says 'Mrs. Francis
+Patterson.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And this," said Marjory, picking up another,
+"says 'John D. Thomas, sole agent
+for Todd's shoes.'"</p>
+
+<p>"According to mine," giggled Bettie,
+"I'm Miss Ethel Louise Cartwright. What's
+on yours, Mabel?"</p>
+
+<p>"'With love from Father,'" groaned
+Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world shall we do?"
+queried Jean, gathering up the remaining
+cards. "Not one of them will fit <i>us</i>."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Give them to Simmons in a bunch," suggested
+Marjory. "He didn't look at the
+last lot, so perhaps he won't now."</p>
+
+<p>So the girls, gathering what courage they
+could, touched the bell, presented their odd
+assortment of cards to Simmons&mdash;who
+almost succeeded in not looking astonished
+at seeing the callers again so soon&mdash;and
+were ushered into the reception room.</p>
+
+<p>Such a sedate Henrietta advanced to meet
+them! Such a dignified, but charming old
+lady rose to shake hands all around!
+Such a sheepish quartette of visitors perched
+on the extreme edge of the nearest four
+chairs! Mrs. Slater smiled encouragingly;
+but Henrietta, from her post behind her
+grandmother's chair, displayed every sign of
+abject terror.</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we came to call," faltered Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"That was pleasant," responded Mrs.
+Slater. "You are just in time to have some
+tea. Midge, will you please ring for Greta?
+I'm very glad you came, for I wanted my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+granddaughter to meet some of the young
+people."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Slater, her slender, beringed fingers
+moving daintily among the cups, made the
+tea. Henrietta, in absolute silence and much
+subdued in manner, passed the cups, the
+delicate sandwiches and the little frosted tea
+cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"Midge," demanded Mrs. Slater, turning
+suddenly to her granddaughter, "what in
+the world is the matter with you? You
+haven't said a word for fifteen minutes. I
+never knew you to be still for so long a
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"It's my conscience," groaned Henrietta,
+dolefully. "I'm in another scrape."</p>
+
+<p>"What have you done now?" asked Mrs.
+Slater, who seemed very much less terrifying
+than the girls had expected to find her.
+"Confession is good for the soul, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta's infectious laugh gurgled out
+suddenly and merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"I've frightened four girls almost into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+spasms," said she. "You see, Grannie, I
+told them that they'd <i>have</i> to call formally if
+they wanted me to visit them. When they
+came you were out, so I took them upstairs,
+gave them things to eat and a jolly good
+time, generally. Then, just for a joke, I
+had Greta tell me when you were coming
+and I led them carefully down the back way,
+made them go round the block and do it all
+over again, cards and all. You see, Grannie,
+they don't know you. They haven't seen
+anything but your husk; and I had them
+scared blue; didn't I, girls?"</p>
+
+<p>"Midge, you shouldn't have done it," reproved
+Mrs. Slater, whose black eyes, however,
+were sparkling with only half-suppressed
+merriment. "That wasn't quite a
+courteous way to treat your guests!"</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me," pleaded Henrietta, flopping
+down on her knees and looking the very
+picture of penitence. "Walk on me, Jean.
+Wipe your shoes on me, Bettie. I grovel at
+your feet&mdash;at <i>every</i>body's feet."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't grovel too hard in that dress,"
+warned Mrs. Slater.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I forgiven?" implored Henrietta,
+gathering up her ruffles with elaborate care.</p>
+
+<p>The girls were not certain. Their pride
+had been injured and they eyed Henrietta
+doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"When you've known Midge as long as
+I have," said Mrs. Slater, "you'll discover
+that she is really too tender-hearted to hurt
+a fly. But you'll also discover that she
+never misses an opportunity to play pranks
+on every soul she loves. It's a symbol of
+her favor. She will never tell you an untruth,
+she is too honorable to practise downright
+deceit; but depend on it, girls, she will
+fool you until you won't believe your own
+ears. And she's always sorry, afterwards.
+She spends half her time apologizing."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, <i>do</i> forgive," pleaded extravagant
+Henrietta, suddenly extending imploring
+hands. "I mean it, truly. It <i>wasn't</i> nice
+of me."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Jean, stooping suddenly, kissed the upturned
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" exclaimed Jean, genuinely surprised,
+"I didn't know I was going to do
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"She gets around everybody," said Mrs.
+Slater, "and the worst of it is she's so good
+and so naughty that you'll never know
+whether you like her or not."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Grannie!" exclaimed Henrietta,
+"don't <i>you</i> know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know that I like you," said the old
+lady, smiling fondly at pretty, whimsical
+Henrietta, "but you know very well that I
+also regard you with strong disapproval. I
+consider you a very faulty young person."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a dear Grannie," breathed Henrietta,
+kissing the old lady's delicate hand,
+"but I'm quite sure you're spoiling me; isn't
+she, Bettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Were you like Henrietta," queried Jean,
+"when you were young?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, you've found me out," laughed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
+Mrs. Slater. "I was just such a piece of
+impishness; but my father was very severe,
+and I think I began earlier to restrain my
+prankishness. Midge, unfortunately, has a
+lenient father and a doting grandmother.
+Between them she is having pretty much her
+own way."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be good," promised Henrietta, comically,
+"in spite of them; but you see, girls,
+with such a pair of relatives dogging my
+footsteps, it's uphill work."</p>
+
+<p>After a little more conversation, the girls
+rose to depart. Mrs. Slater begged them to
+come again. She said that she enjoyed
+young people. Then the big front door was
+closed behind them and the dreaded visit was
+over.</p>
+
+<p>"So," said Marjory, "<i>that's</i> what Mrs.
+Slater is like inside."</p>
+
+<p>Mabel, unable to bear them longer, was
+recklessly peeling off her lemon-colored
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p>"She's lovely, inside and out," declared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+Bettie, "but I never dreamed that she was
+like <i>that</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"She wouldn't have cared if I <i>had</i> gone
+without gloves," mourned aggrieved Mabel.
+"I'd like to pay Henrietta back for <i>that</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Girls," asked Marjory, "do you <i>like</i>
+Henrietta?"</p>
+
+<p>"I adore her," declared Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>think</i> I like her," said Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"I know <i>I</i> don't," asserted Mabel, waving
+her throbbing hands in the evening breeze
+to cool them.</p>
+
+<p>"I do and I don't," said Marjory. "I admire
+her, but she makes me uncomfortable.
+I feel as if she were just playing with me."</p>
+
+<p>"She seems more than fourteen," murmured
+Jean, dreamily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's because she's traveled so much,"
+explained Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"She's like the big opal in Mother's ring,"
+mused imaginative Jean. "One moment all
+warm and sparkly, the next, all cold and
+quiet."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And you never know," supplemented
+Marjory, "which way it's going to be."</p>
+
+<p>"I like folks that are downright bad or
+good," said Mabel, crossly. "Burglars
+ought to be burglars and ministers ought to
+be ministers and they all ought to be marked
+so you can tell 'em apart; else, how are you
+going to?"</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XX<br />
+
+<small>The Call Returned</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE following Saturday, the girls carried
+their Christmas sewing to Jean's.
+The sewing had not reached a very exciting
+stage, so tongues moved faster than fingers.
+Mabel was still working on a shoe-bag for
+her father but, owing to some misadventure,
+one of the two compartments was several
+sizes larger than the other. Mabel regarded
+this difference with disapproval until comforting
+Jean came to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," suggested Jean, "there's a
+difference in the size of your father's feet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there is," cried Mabel, gleefully.
+"His right shoe is always tighter than the
+left."</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected quick-witted Marjory,
+"it isn't his feet that are going into that bag.
+It's his shoes, and they're the same size."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh," groaned Mabel, settling into a disconsolate
+heap, "that's so."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," said Bettie. "Give me
+the bag, and I'll fix those pockets."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie was embroidering an elaborate pincushion
+for her mother, but she stopped so
+often to help the others that there seemed
+small hope of its ever getting finished.
+Marjory, who was making one just like it
+for her Aunty Jane, was progressing much
+more rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>Jean, rummaging in her work-bag, was
+trying to decide which of four partly completed
+articles to sew on when a carriage
+stopped at Mrs. Mapes's gate.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a caller," said Jean. "We'll have
+to vacate. Here, scurry into the dining-room
+with all your stuff. I'll answer the
+bell; and you, Bettie, remind Mother to take
+off her apron&mdash;she's apt to forget it."</p>
+
+<p>Jean, stopping long enough to twitch the
+chairs into place, went primly to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning," said a familiar voice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
+"I've come to return your visit. It's all
+right, James. You needn't wait."</p>
+
+<p>"Come back, girls," called Jean, when she
+had ushered the caller in. "It's Henrietta."</p>
+
+<p>"What luck!" cried Henrietta, pulling off
+her gloves. "Now I can make a long, long
+call instead of four short ones. What are
+you doing&mdash;Christmas presents? Give me
+a spool of fine white thread, some pins and a
+sofa pillow. I'm going to make one, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Take off your things," said Jean,
+smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta wriggled out of her jacket and
+tossed her hat on the couch.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it going to be?" asked Bettie,
+watching the merry visitor's deft fingers fly
+to and fro.</p>
+
+<p>"Lace," returned Henrietta. "I learned
+to make it in France. Of course these aren't
+the right materials for very fine lace, but I
+can make an edge for a pincushion or a mat.
+I like to do things with my fingers."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you draw?" asked Bettie.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A little," returned Henrietta, modestly,
+"but you mustn't tell Miss Rossitor, or she'll
+have <i>me</i> doing cows and pigs and roosters."</p>
+
+<p>"What grade do you belong in?" asked
+Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"None," laughed the visitor, arranging
+the pins in what looked like a very intricate
+pattern. "I couldn't be graded. I'm having
+Domestic Science under the Methodist
+church, Senior Latin in the Council Chamber,
+Post-graduate French in a cloak-room off the
+A. O. U. W. Hall, Sophomore American
+History with the Baptists, and I'm doing
+mathematics in the kindergarten&mdash;or somewhere
+down there. I had to go back to the
+very beginning. If I ever tell you anything
+with numbers in it don't believe it. I don't
+know six from six hundred. But I'm doing
+lessons in five different buildings and getting
+lots of exercise besides. That's doing pretty
+well for my first year in school."</p>
+
+<p>"Your first year!" cried Marjory.
+"Surely you're fooling!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not this time," assured Henrietta.
+"I've had governesses and tutors ever since
+I could think, but this is truly my first school
+year. And it's great fun. But if I stay in
+America, I'm to go to boarding school,
+Grandmother says. I've always wanted to,
+and Grannie thinks it will be good for me to
+be with other girls. You see, I've always
+lived with grown folks, so I need to renew
+my youth."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother's been reading the boarding-school
+advertisements in the magazines
+lately," said Mabel. "I heard her read some
+of them aloud to Father. But of course
+they couldn't have been thinking about <i>me</i>.
+But they sounded interesting."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "they had read
+all the stories and those boarding schools
+were all they had left to read."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," said Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Jane reads them, too," added Marjory.
+"There's some money that is to be
+used for my education and for nothing else.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+When I've finished with High School I'm to
+go to College."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh well," laughed, Jean, lightly, "you're
+safe for another five years."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i>'m not," returned Henrietta. "I'm
+going next September, and if Grandmother
+had known how the schools were going to be
+you wouldn't be having the pleasure of my
+company now. She says I'm getting thin in
+the pursuit of knowledge&mdash;it's too scattered,
+in Lakeville. That's why she made me ride
+to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" cried Mabel, her eyes bulging
+with astonishment. "She's really making
+lace!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's for you," said Henrietta, flashing a
+bright glance at Mabel. "It's an apology,
+Mam'selle, for my past&mdash;and perhaps my
+future&mdash;misdeeds."</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>said</i> I didn't like you," blurted honest
+Mabel, "but I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't depend on me," sighed Henrietta.
+"I don't wear well. You'll find the real me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+rubbing through in spots. Granny says I'm
+an imp that came in one of Dad's Hindoo
+boxes."</p>
+
+<p>"Why does your grandmother call you
+Midge?" asked Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Because she doesn't like Henrietta. You
+see, I have five names&mdash;they do that sort of
+thing on the other side&mdash;and I take turns
+with them. When I find out which one suits
+me best, I'll choose that one for keeps."</p>
+
+<p>"What are they?" demanded Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Henrietta Constance Louise Frederika
+Francesca&mdash;you see, there isn't a really suitable
+name in the lot. But when you have
+five quarrelsome aunts, as Father had, you
+have to please all or none of them by giving
+your poor helpless baby all their horrid
+names. Call me Sallie&mdash;I've <i>always</i> wanted
+to be Sallie."</p>
+
+<p>"Think of anybody," laughed Jean, "with
+as many names as that wanting a new one."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that baby you adopted?" asked
+Henrietta, abruptly changing the subject.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+"Didn't one of you adopt a baby or something
+like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was Mabel," replied Marjory. "The
+rest of us are pretty good, but Mabel's sort
+of thoughtless about borrowing things. She
+just happened to borrow an unreturnable
+baby, one day."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it now?"</p>
+
+<p>"At Mr. Black's. Her name is Rosa
+Marie."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see her," said Henrietta, carefully
+moving a pin.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay to luncheon," urged Jean.
+"Father's away, so there'll be plenty of
+room. Afterwards we can all pay a visit to
+Rosa Marie."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," said Marjory, "she's getting
+to be a burden to Mrs. Crane."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," agreed Bettie, "but it isn't Rosa
+Marie's fault. Mrs. Crane has been reading
+a lot of books about bringing up children&mdash;you
+know she never had any. Before she
+discovered how many things <i>might</i> happen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+to a baby she was quite comfortable; but
+now she's always certain that Rosa Marie
+is coming down with something."</p>
+
+<p>"And she doesn't seem very bright,"
+mourned Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;Mrs. Crane?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Rosa Marie. You see, we don't
+know exactly how old she is&mdash;Mabel didn't
+think to ask&mdash;but she seems big enough to
+be lots smarter than she is. We're rather
+disappointed in her."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not," protested Mabel, loyally.
+"She's just slow because she hasn't any little
+brothers and sisters. She's a <i>dear</i> child."</p>
+
+<p>"Cheer up, Mabel," soothed Henrietta.
+"As long as she's beautiful she doesn't need
+to be bright."</p>
+
+<p>At this, Marjory looked at Jean, then at
+Bettie, and smiled an odd, significant smile.
+Here was a chance to get even with Henrietta;
+and, unconsciously, Mabel helped.</p>
+
+<p>"She's beautiful to me," said Mabel,
+"and she's ever so cunning."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What color are her eyes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dark," said Marjory. "Darker than
+yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Then she's a brunette?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es," said Marjory, as if considering
+the question. "She's darker, at least, than
+I am."</p>
+
+<p>"We all are," said Henrietta, with an admiring
+glance at Marjory's golden locks.
+"We seem to shade down gradually. Mabel
+comes next, then Jean, then Bettie; I'm the
+darkest, because Bettie's eyes are like brown
+velvet, but mine are black, like bits of hard
+coal. Where does Rosa Marie come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Marjory, with an air of
+pondering deeply, "that Rosa Marie is almost,
+if not quite, as dark as you; even
+darker, perhaps. But her hair isn't as
+curly."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear little soul," breathed Henrietta,
+tenderly. "I've a tremendous liking for
+babies, but they're pretty scarce at our house.
+But there was one in England that was&mdash;Oh,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
+if I could just see that English baby <i>now</i>!
+Wouldn't I just hug her!"</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta's eyes were unwontedly tender,
+her expression unusually sweet.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not a bit like you've been any of
+the other times," observed Bettie. "I like
+you a lot better when you're like this."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not myself to-day," twinkled Henrietta.
+"I'm Sallie&mdash;just plain Sallie. But
+beware of me when I'm Frederika, the Disguised
+Duchess. <i>That's</i> when I'm not to be
+trusted."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Jean, listening to some faraway
+sound, "that lunch is about ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" exclaimed Henrietta. "The
+sooner it's over, the sooner I can hug that
+darling baby. It's months since I've held
+one in my arms&mdash;the dear little body."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find&mdash;&mdash;" began Mabel; but the
+other three promptly headed her off before
+she had time to explain that Rosa Marie was
+a pretty big armful.</p>
+
+<p>"It's time to go home," exclaimed Marjory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
+and Bettie, in chorus. "Come on,
+Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll excuse me," said Jean, speaking
+directly to Mabel, "I'll go set a place for
+Henrietta. Sorry I can't ask everybody to
+stay; but come back at two o'clock."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI<br />
+
+<small>Getting Even</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>LUNCHEON at Jean's that day proved
+a lively affair, for both boys were
+home; Henrietta chatted as frankly and as
+merrily as if she had known them all her
+life. Wallace, who was shy, squirmed uneasily
+at first and kept his eyes on his plate;
+but Roger, who had encountered the visitor
+in his French class, was able to respond to
+her friendly chatter.</p>
+
+<p>"I like boys," asserted Henrietta, frankly,
+"but I haven't any belonging to me but one
+and he's a horrid muff&mdash;sixteen and a regular
+baby. He's my cousin."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you liked babies," laughed
+Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I do, but not that kind. He's been
+molly-coddled until it makes you sick to look
+at him."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Trot him out," offered Roger. "I'll
+give him an antidote."</p>
+
+<p>"He's in England," said Henrietta, "and
+I hope he'll stay there. He hasn't any idea
+of doing anything for himself; he's always
+talking about what he'll do when somebody
+else does such and such a thing for him."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean," said Roger, "he hasn't any
+American independence."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," agreed Henrietta. "He'd
+have made a nice pink-and-white girl, but
+he's no use at all as a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"How dark it's getting," said Jean. "I
+can hardly see my plate."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," prophesied Wallace, breaking
+his long silence, "that it's going to snow.
+The sky's been a little thick for three days;
+when it comes we'll get a lot."</p>
+
+<p>"Goody!" cried Henrietta, "I've never
+seen a real Lake Superior snowstorm and I
+want to. So far all the snow we've had has
+come in the night. I want to <i>see</i> it snow."</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't," growled Wallace, "if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+you had to shovel several tons of it off your
+sidewalk."</p>
+
+<p>"Will it snow very soon?" queried Henrietta,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably not before dark," returned
+Wallace, turning to glance at the dull sky.
+"It's only getting ready."</p>
+
+<p>Enthusiastic Henrietta, that odd mixture
+of extreme youth and premature age, was all
+impatience to see Rosa Marie. She had
+telephoned her grandmother to ask permission
+to spend the day with her new friends,
+and now she was eager to add Rosa Marie to
+the list. It was easy to see that she was expecting
+to behold something very choice in
+the line of babies. Jean was tempted to undeceive
+her, but loyalty to Marjory kept her
+silent.</p>
+
+<p>"A baby," breathed Henrietta, rapturously,
+"is the loveliest thing in all the world.
+<i>Isn't</i> it most two o'clock? Wait, I'll look
+at my watch&mdash;Mercy! I forgot to wind
+it!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Hark!" said Jean, "I think I hear the
+girls. Yes, I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Get on your things," commanded Marjory,
+opening the door. "Bettie stopped to
+feed the cat, sew a button on Dick, wash
+Peter's face, tie up her father's finger and
+hook her mother's dress, but she's here at
+last and we're to pick up Mabel on the way
+because Dr. Bennett called her back to wash
+her face."</p>
+
+<p>"We mustn't stay too long," warned Jean,
+glancing at the dull sky. "It looks as if it
+would get dark early."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crane was glad to see her visitors
+and appeared delighted to add a new girl to
+her collection of youthful friends.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Jean are just of a size," said
+she.</p>
+
+<p>"And about the same age," added Bettie,
+who had always regretted the two years' difference
+in her age and Jean's. "I wish <i>I</i>
+were as old as that."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you afraid," blundered well-meaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+Mrs. Crane, turning to Bettie,
+"that she'll cut you out? You and Jean
+have always been as thick as thieves. Don't
+you let this pretty Henrietta steal your Jean
+away from you."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie, dear little unselfish soul, had
+hitherto been conscious of no such fear, but
+now her big brown eyes were troubled.
+This new possibility was alarming.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd like to see Rosa Marie," said Marjory.
+"Is she well?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has a bad cold," returned Mrs.
+Crane, shaking her head, sorrowfully.
+"I've just been looking through my books,
+and in the very first one I found more than
+twenty-five fatal diseases that begin with a
+bad cold."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you find <i>any</i> that folks ever get
+over?" suggested Jean, comfortingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes," replied Mrs. Crane, brightening.
+"I've known of folks pulling through
+at least twenty-four of them. But there's
+one thing. You won't like Rosa Marie's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
+clothes to-day. They're&mdash;they're sort of an
+accident."</p>
+
+<p>"An accident?" questioned Bettie.
+"What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you see, I ordered her a ready-made
+dress out of a catalogue. It sounded
+very promising but&mdash;Well, it's <i>warm</i>, but I
+guess that's about all you can say for it. I'll
+take you to the nursery; I have to keep her
+out of drafts."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie, well and becomingly clad,
+would hardly have captured a prize in a
+beauty show, even with very little competition.
+Poor little Rosa Marie, suffering with
+a severe cold, appeared a most unlovable object.
+Her eyes were dull and all but invisible,
+her nose and lips were red and swollen
+and her wide mouth seemed even larger
+than usual. The catalogue dress was more
+than an accident; it was an out and out
+calamity. Its gorgeous red and green plaid
+was marked off like a city map in regular
+squares with a startling stripe of yellow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+Moreover, the alarming garment was a distressingly
+tight fit.</p>
+
+<p>"It looked," sighed Mrs. Crane, apologetically,
+"as pretty as you please in that book;
+but of course nobody would <i>think</i> of buying
+such goods as that <i>outside</i> a catalogue. But
+Rosa Marie liked it."</p>
+
+<p>After the first glance, however, the Cottagers
+did not look at Rosa Marie or the
+hideous plaid. They gazed instead at Henrietta's
+speaking countenance. Having led
+their new friend to expect something entirely
+different in the way of infantile charms, they
+wanted to enjoy her surprise; but strangely
+enough they did not. It was evident that
+something was wrong with their plan.</p>
+
+<p>The bright, expectant look faded suddenly
+from the sparkling black eyes. All the
+animation fled swiftly from the girlish countenance.
+Two large tears rolled down Henrietta's
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she mourned, "I was <i>so</i> lonely for
+a real, dear little baby."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dear me," sighed penitent Jean, "we
+thought you'd enjoy the joke. We saw at
+once that you supposed that Rosa Marie was
+an ordinary child&mdash;a nice little pink and
+white creature in long clothes. It seemed
+such a good chance to get even that we&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It was my fault," apologized Marjory.
+"I <i>tried</i> to fool you. I never thought you'd
+<i>care</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry," said offended Mabel, stiffly,
+"that you don't like Rosa Marie. She's
+much more interesting than a common baby,
+and I think, when I picked her out&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't that," said Henrietta, smiling
+through her tears. "You see, I had a baby
+cousin in England that I just hated to leave&mdash;Oh,
+the sweetest, daintiest little-girl baby&mdash;and
+she'll be all grown up and gone before
+I ever see her again. I simply adored that
+baby."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," soothed Bettie, generously.
+"We've any number of real babies
+at our house and three of them are small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
+enough to cuddle. And even the littlest one
+is big enough to be played with."</p>
+
+<p>"What an accommodating family," said
+Henrietta, wiping her eyes. "I guess
+they'll make up for this remarkable infant."</p>
+
+<p>"Rosa Marie certainly isn't looking her
+best to-day," admitted Jean, "but you'll
+really find her very interesting when you
+know her better. But she never does appeal
+to strangers&mdash;we've found <i>that</i> out."</p>
+
+<p>"And just now," said Bettie, "she's
+surely a sight; but when you've seen her in
+the cunning little Indian costume that Mr.
+Black bought for her you'll really like her."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said Henrietta, doubtfully.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII<br />
+
+<small>A Full Afternoon</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>"NOW," said Mrs. Crane, with a note
+of pride in her tone, "I want to
+show you what Peter Black's been doing <i>this</i>
+time. It's in the library."</p>
+
+<p>The interested girls followed Mrs. Crane
+into the cozy, book-lined room. Mr. Black's
+purchases were apt to be worth seeing, for,
+now that he had a family after so many
+years of solitude, he was spending his money
+lavishly. And he delighted in surprising his
+elderly sister with unusual gifts.</p>
+
+<p>"There," said Mrs. Crane, pointing to a
+square cabinet of polished wood. "What
+do you think of that! Can you guess what
+it is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think," replied Jean, "it's a cupboard
+for your very prettiest tea-cups&mdash;the ones
+that are too nice to use."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> think," said Marjory, "that it's a fire-proof
+safe to keep Rosa Marie's plaid dress
+in, so it won't set the house afire."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," said Bettie, "it's some sort of
+a refrigerator to use on Sundays only."</p>
+
+<p>"It looks to me," ventured Mabel, "like a
+cage with a monkey in it. I've seen them in
+processions, only they were fancier."</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>know</i> what it is," said Henrietta, "because
+we have one like it, but ours isn't as
+nice as this."</p>
+
+<p>"Now turn your backs," requested Mrs.
+Crane.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment the girls were listening
+to a delightful concert. Wonderful
+music was pouring from the polished cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>"I was the nearest right," asserted Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" objected Bettie, "you said it
+was a monkey&mdash;monkeys don't sing."</p>
+
+<p>"I was right, just the same. It's a hand
+organ, and everybody knows that a monkey's
+pretty near the same thing."</p>
+
+<p>The girls laughed, for Mabel, who was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
+usually wrong, always insisted obstinately
+that she was right.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a phonograph," explained Henrietta,
+"and the very best one I ever heard."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a whole brass band," breathed Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew it was good," said Mrs. Crane,
+contentedly, "for Peter refused to tell what
+he paid for it."</p>
+
+<p>It took a long time for the phonograph to
+give up all that was inside its polished case,
+and before the entertainment was quite over
+Mr. Black came in.</p>
+
+<p>Bettie, eager to display her new acquaintance,
+hardly waited to greet him before introducing
+Henrietta. It was a pleasure, as
+well as a novelty, to have so attractive a
+friend to present.</p>
+
+<p>"This," said Bettie, proudly but a little
+flustered, "is my hen, Frenriet&mdash;I mean, my
+hen&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Bettie turned scarlet and stopped. The
+girls shrieked with delight. Mrs. Crane
+laughed till she cried. Mr. Black's roars of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+laughter drowned the phonograph's best
+effort.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm <i>not</i> your hen," giggled Henrietta.
+"Not even your chicken. This settles <i>that</i>
+name&mdash;I can't risk being mistaken for any
+more poultry."</p>
+
+<p>"She's Henrietta Bedford," explained
+Jean, wiping her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"And how long," teased Mr. Black,
+"have you been keeping poultry, Miss Bettykins?"</p>
+
+<p>"About two weeks," giggled Bettie.
+"She's Mrs. Slater's granddaughter."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like to seem inhospitable," said
+Mr. Black, a few moments later, "but it's
+beginning to snow, and the weather's going
+to be a good deal worse before it gets any
+better. If you start now, you'll be home
+before the snow begins to drift&mdash;there's a
+strong north wind and the thermometer's a
+bit down-hearted."</p>
+
+<p>The girls had removed their wraps and it
+took time to get into them. Also, Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+Crane, noticing that the girls were dressed
+for mild weather, detained them while she
+hunted up a silk handkerchief to wrap about
+Marjory's throat, a veil to tie over Bettie's
+ears and some warmer gloves for Jean.
+Henrietta and Mabel refused to be bundled
+up.</p>
+
+<p>The outside air was many degrees colder
+than it had been two hours earlier, and was
+full of flying snow. The wind came in
+gusts, yet there was something bracing and
+stimulating about the stirring atmosphere,
+particularly to Henrietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" cried she, "this is fine! Why
+can't we take a long walk? It's a shame to
+hurry home. I just love this. Isn't there
+somebody we can go to see? Hasn't anybody
+an errand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es," said Mabel, doubtfully. "We
+could go down to Mrs. Malony's. Mother
+told me this morning to get her bill, and I
+forgot all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel always has a few forgotten errands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+laid away," teased Marjory. "She
+can show you, too, where she found Rosa
+Marie&mdash;it's down that way."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope," said Henrietta, making a comical
+grimace, "that there's no danger of finding
+any more like her. But let's go. It's a
+shame to miss any of this."</p>
+
+<p>Going down the long hill toward Mrs.
+Malony's was entirely delightful, for the
+wind, of which there was a great deal, was
+at their well-protected backs; they fairly
+scudded before it, laughing joyously as they
+were swept along almost on a run. Going
+westward at the bottom of the hill was not
+so very bad either, for here the road was
+somewhat sheltered, though the snow was
+much deeper than the girls had expected to
+find it.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Malony, the garrulous egg-woman,
+was at home; she expressed her surprise and
+delight at the advent of so many unexpected
+visitors.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis mesilf thot's glad to see so manny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
+purty faces," said she, flying about to find
+chairs. "'Tis the lovely complexion you
+have to-day, Miss Jean. An' who's the little
+lady wid the rosy cheek? The gran'choild
+av Mrs. Lady Slater&mdash;wud ye hark to thot
+now! An' how's Bettie darlin' wid all her
+purty smiles? Thot's good&mdash;thot's good.
+An' Miss Mabel here&mdash;sure she's the fat
+wan&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," explained Mabel, with dignity,
+"would like her egg-bill."</p>
+
+<p>"Bill, is ut?" replied Mrs. Malony, graciously.
+"Sure there's no hurry at all, at all.
+The sooner it comes the sooner 'tis spint.
+Ah, well, if you're afther insistin' [no one
+<i>had</i> insisted] joost count the banes in me
+owld taypot. Ivery wan stands fer wan
+dozen eggs at twinty-foive cints the dozen."</p>
+
+<p>"Thirteen beans," announced Jean, who
+had counted them several times to make
+certain.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," persuaded smooth-tongued Mrs.
+Malony, "you'd best be takin' wan more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+dozen, Miss Mabel. 'Twould be sore unlucky
+to stop wid t'irteen."</p>
+
+<p>While she was counting the eggs, Mr.
+Malony, redolent of the stable and bearing
+two steaming pails of milk, came into the
+kitchen. Mrs. Malony, beaming with hospitality,
+went hastily to the cupboard, brought
+forth five exceedingly thick cups, filled them
+with milk and passed them to her dismayed
+guests.</p>
+
+<p>Some persons like warm milk, fresh from
+the cow, with the cow-smell overshadowing
+all other flavors. Mrs. Malony's visitors did
+not. They were too polite to say so, however,
+so there they sat, five martyrs to
+courtesy, sipping the distasteful milk. It
+clogged their throats, it made them feel
+queerly upset inside, but still, solely out of
+politeness, they continued to sip.</p>
+
+<p>"Take bigger swallows," advised Mabel,
+in a smothered whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"I cuk&mdash;can't," breathed Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Malony had left the room. Presently,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+Mrs. Malony, in search of a basket for the
+eggs, stooped to rummage in the untidy
+recess beneath the cupboard. Quick as a
+wink, Henrietta emptied her cup into the
+original pail, but the other unfortunates were
+left to struggle with their unwelcome refreshment.
+Henrietta, however, gained
+nothing by her trick, for the egg-woman,
+discovering that her cup was empty,
+promptly refilled it, much to the amusement
+of the other victims.</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta, discovering their state of mind,
+was moved to defiance. Lifting her cup,
+with a determined glint in her black eyes,
+she drank every drop in four courageous,
+continuous gulps. In a twinkling, the other
+girls had imitated her example and were declining
+Mrs. Malony's pressing offer of
+more milk.</p>
+
+<p>"Joost a wee sup," pleaded Mrs. Malony,
+reaching for Jean's cup.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," said Jean, rising hastily.
+"We ought to be getting home."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Getting home, however, proved a different
+matter from getting away from
+home. After escaping Mrs. Malony's insistent
+hospitality, the girls waded across the
+snowy street and out toward the point to see
+if Rosa Marie's home were still there. The
+door hung from one hinge and snow had
+drifted, and was still drifting, in at the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think," asked Henrietta, gazing
+at the deserted house, "that Rosa Marie's
+mother will ever come back?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Not to any such homely baby as that,"
+declared Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"She <i>will</i> come back," asserted Mabel,
+loyally. "She loved Rosa Marie&mdash;I saw it
+in her eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Looks don't matter, with mothers,"
+soothed Bettie. "A cat likes a homely yellow
+kitten as well as a lovely white one.
+And Dick has more freckles than Bob, but
+Mother likes him just as well."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Rosa Marie's mother stood right in that
+doorway," said Mabel, "and, as long as I
+could see her, her eyes were stretching out
+after Rosa Marie."</p>
+
+<p>"They must have stuck out on pegs like a
+lobster's," giggled Henrietta, "by the
+time you reached the corner."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you're <i>mean</i>," muttered Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"I repent," apologized Henrietta. "For
+a moment I relapsed into Frederika, the Disguised
+Duchess; but now I'm your own
+kind-hearted Sallie and I wish that my toes
+were as warm as my affections. Let's start
+for civilization&mdash;we seem to have the world
+to ourselves. Doesn't anybody else like
+snow, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII<br />
+
+<small>Taking a Walk</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>"PHEW!" gasped Jean, wheeling as the
+north wind, sweeping round the corner,
+caught her square in the face. "I don't
+think much of that! It's like ice."</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh!" groaned Marjory, "I wish I'd
+stayed home."</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy!" gulped Henrietta, "it's blowing
+my skin off."</p>
+
+<p>After that, no one had very much to say.
+The girls needed their breath for other purposes.
+With heads down and jackets pulled
+tightly about them, they started up the long
+hill with the wind in their faces. It was
+not a pleasant wind. Cold and cutting, it
+flung icy particles of snow against their
+cheeks, nipped their unprotected ears, stung
+their fingers and found the thin places in
+their garments. It rushed down their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+throats when they opened their mouths to
+speak, wrapped their petticoats so tightly
+about them that they had to keep unwinding
+themselves in order to walk at all, heaped
+the whirling snow in drifts and filled the air
+so full of flakes that it was only between
+gusts that the houses were visible. Worst
+of all, the way was very much uphill, and
+Mabel, besides being short of breath, was
+burdened with the basket of eggs. The
+snow seemed to take a delight in piling itself
+directly in front of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh!" gasped Henrietta, "I wish my
+stockings were fur-lined. They thawed out
+in Mrs. Malony's and now they're frozen
+stiff. I don't like 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine, too," panted Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"And all my skirts," groaned Marjory.
+"The edges are like saws and they're scraping
+my knees."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you like a real storm?" queried
+Jean, steering Henrietta through a mighty
+drift.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not so well as I thought I should," admitted
+Henrietta. "I miss my blizzard
+clothes."</p>
+
+<p>The streets, when the girls finally reached
+the top of the hill, were deserted. Even the
+sides of the houses looked like solid walls of
+snow, for the wind had hurled the big flakes
+in gigantic handfuls against the buildings
+until they were all nicely coated with a thick
+frosting; and so, all the world was white.
+And, by the time the five girls reached Jean's
+house, for they finally accomplished that
+difficult feat, they, too, were nicely plastered
+from head to heels with the clinging snow.
+They looked like animated snow men as
+they piled thankfully into Mrs. Mapes's
+parlor.</p>
+
+<p>The girls themselves were warm and
+glowing from the unusual exercise, but their
+stockings and cotton skirts were frozen stiff.</p>
+
+<p>"Henrietta will simply have to stay all
+night," said Mrs. Mapes, discovering the
+wet stockings. "I sent the coachman home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+half an hour ago for the sake of the horses.
+I'll telephone Mrs. Slater that you're safe.
+You other girls must go home at once and
+change your clothes before they thaw. And,
+Jean, you and Henrietta must get into bed
+at once. I'll bring you a hot supper inside
+of five minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"That'll be fun," declared Jean, seizing
+Henrietta's hand and making for the stairs.
+"Good-night, girls."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," said Marjory, when the
+Mapes's door had closed behind Bettie,
+Mabel and herself, "Jean and Henrietta are
+going to be great chums."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid so," sighed Bettie. "I like
+Henrietta; but, dear me, I don't want Jean
+to like her better than she does me."</p>
+
+<p>"She won't," comforted Marjory. "Henrietta's
+all right for a little while at a time,
+but you're <i>always</i> nice."</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to Mrs. Mapes's instructions,
+none of the girls caught cold; but their
+mothers were so afraid that they might that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+not one of them was permitted to poke her
+nose out of doors the next day. To Henrietta's
+delight, the drifts reached the fence
+tops; and, until a huge plow, drawn by six
+horses arranged in pairs, had cleared the
+way, the roads were impassable. The wind,
+after raging furiously all night, had quieted
+down; but the snow continued to fall in big,
+soft, clinging flakes, every tree and shrub
+was weighted down with a heavy burden
+and all the world was white. To Henrietta,
+who had never before seen snow in such
+abundance, it was a most pleasing spectacle.</p>
+
+<p>Bettie, however, was sorely troubled.
+There was Jean shut in with attractive Henrietta
+and getting "chummier" with her
+every minute. There was Bettie, a solitary
+prisoner in a fuzzy red wrapper and bed
+slippers, sighing for her beloved Jean. To
+be sure, Bettie had brothers of assorted sizes
+and complexions, but not one of them could
+fill Jean's place in Bettie's troubled affections.</p>
+
+<p>Had Bettie but known it, however, Jean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+was not having an entirely comfortable day.
+It happened to be one of Henrietta's "Frederika"
+days. The lively girl tormented
+bashful Wallace by pretending that she herself
+was excessively shy, and, as shyness was
+not one of her attributes, her victim was
+covered with confusion. She teased and
+bewildered Roger by chattering so rapidly
+in French that he couldn't understand a
+word she said, although he had studied the
+language for three years under Miss McGinnis
+and was proud of his progress. A
+number of times she became so witty at
+Jean's expense that "Sallie" had to rush to
+the rescue with profuse apologies. Also,
+she disturbed both Mr. and Mrs. Mapes by
+her extreme restlessness.</p>
+
+<p>"My sakes," confided Mrs. Mapes, in the
+privacy of the kitchen, whither she had fled
+for the sake of quiet, "I'm glad that girl
+doesn't belong to me; she isn't still a
+minute."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said Roger, who had escaped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+on the pretext of blacking his shoes, "it's
+because she has traveled so much. Maybe
+she feels as if she had to keep going."</p>
+
+<p>"Bettie's certainly a great deal quieter,"
+agreed Jean, who looked tired, "and she
+doesn't talk all night when a body wants to
+sleep; but Henrietta's more fun. You see,
+you never know what she's going to do next,
+but Bettie's always just the same."</p>
+
+<p>At dinner time that day, Mrs. Mapes
+asked her husband if he knew whether the
+School Board had accomplished anything at
+the meeting held the night previously.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Mr. Mapes, a tall, thin
+man with a preoccupied air. "And they
+never will as long as each one of them wants
+to put that schoolhouse in a different place.
+They can't come to any sort of an agreement."</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, the poor School Board was having
+a perplexing time. The citizens that
+lived at the north end of the town wanted
+the new school built there. Other tax-payers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
+declared that the southern portion of
+Lakeville, being more densely populated,
+offered a more suitable site. Then, since
+the town stretched westward for a long distance,
+a third group of persons were clamoring
+for the building in <i>their</i> part of the town.
+Besides all these, there were persons who declared
+that the old site was the <i>only</i> place
+for a school building. As the Board itself
+was divided as to opinion, it began to look
+as if Lakeville would have to get along without
+a schoolhouse unless it could afford to
+build four, and the tax-payers said it
+couldn't do that.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," said Mrs. Mapes, "that I could
+find a first-class girls' school within a reasonable
+distance. If they don't have a proper
+building in Lakeville by next September I'll
+send Jean away. That Baptist cellar is
+damp, and I know it. Besides, I went to a
+good boarding school myself and I'd like
+Jean to have the experience&mdash;I'll never forget
+those days."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Send her," suggested Henrietta, "to the
+school I'm going to."</p>
+
+<p>"Which one is that?" asked Mrs. Mapes.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know; but Grandmother says it
+mustn't be too far away. She wants me
+within reach."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Mrs. Mapes, reflectively,
+"I'll send for some catalogues."</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the sun shone brightly
+on a glittering world. Henrietta went into
+ecstasies over it, for even the tree trunks
+seemed incrusted with diamonds&mdash;or at least
+rhine-stones, Henrietta said. The coachman
+arrived with the Slater horses a little
+before nine o'clock and the two girls were
+carried off to school in state. They waved
+their hands to Bettie as they passed her
+trudging in the snow; and poor Bettie was
+suddenly conscious of a sharp twinge of
+jealousy.</p>
+
+<p>Now that Henrietta had been properly
+called on and had returned the call, she became
+a permanent part of all the Cottagers'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+plans. Thereafter, there was hardly a day
+when one or another of the four girls did
+not see the fascinating maid of many names.
+They always found her interesting, attractive
+and entertaining. Yet, there were days
+when she teased them almost to the limit of
+their endurance, times when they could not
+quite approve her and moments when she
+fairly roused them to anger; but, in spite of
+her faults, they could not help loving her,
+because, with all her impishness and her
+distressing lack of repose, she was warm-hearted,
+loyal and thoroughly true. And,
+although she possessed dozens of advantages
+that the other girls lacked, although she was
+beautifully gowned, splendidly housed and
+bountifully supplied with spending money,
+never did she show, in any way, the faintest
+scrap of false pride. She mentioned her life
+abroad, in a simple, matter-of-fact way (as
+if it were a mere incident that might have
+happened to anybody), but never in any
+boasting spirit. Her prankishness, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
+kept her from being too good or too
+lovable; for, as her Grandmother said, she
+spared no one; sometimes even Jean, who
+was a model of patience, found it hard to
+forgive fun-loving Frederika, the Disguised
+Duchess.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV<br />
+
+<small>The Statue from India</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>ALL the shops in Lakeville wore a holiday
+air, for money was plentiful and
+trade was unusually brisk. The windows
+were gay with wreaths of holly and glittering
+strings of Christmas-tree ornaments.
+Clerks were busy and smiling. Customers,
+alert for bargains, crowded about the counters
+and parted cheerfully from their cash.
+Persons in the streets, laden with parcels of
+every shape, size and color, pushed eagerly
+through the doors or hurried along the busy
+thoroughfares. All wore an air of eager
+expectancy, for two weeks of December
+were gone and Christmas was fairly scrambling
+into sight.</p>
+
+<p>The five girls had money to spend. Very
+little of it, to be sure, belonged to the Cottagers;
+but Henrietta had a great deal, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+as they all went together on their shopping
+expeditions, it didn't matter very much, as
+far as enjoyment went, who did the purchasing.
+Bettie said that it was quite as much
+fun to help Henrietta pick out a five-dollar
+scarf pin for Simmons, the butler, as it was
+to choose ten-cent paper weights for Bob
+and Dick. Besides, no one was obliged to
+go home empty-handed, because it took all
+five to carry Henrietta's purchases.</p>
+
+<p>All five were making things besides.
+Sometimes they sewed at Jean's, sometimes
+at Henrietta's, occasionally at Marjory's and
+once in a while at Mabel's. They liked least
+of all to go to Marjory's because Aunty
+Jane, who was a wonderfully particular
+housekeeper, objected to their walking on
+her hardwood floors and seemed equally
+averse to having them step on the rugs. As
+they couldn't very well use the ceiling or feel
+entirely comfortable under the battery of
+Aunty Jane's disapproving glances, they
+liked to go where they were more warmly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+welcomed. Perhaps Henrietta's once-dreaded
+home was the most popular place,
+though in that fascinating abode they could
+not accomplish a great deal in the sewing
+line because Henrietta invariably produced
+such a bewildering array of unusual belongings
+to show them that their eyes kept busier
+than their fingers. In another way, however,
+they accomplished a great deal. Henrietta,
+who was really very clever with her
+needle, had started at one time or another a
+great many different articles. These, in
+their half-finished condition&mdash;the changeable
+girl was much better at beginning things
+than at completing them&mdash;she lavishly bestowed
+on her friends. Lovely flowered
+ribbons, dainty bits of silk and lace, curious
+scraps of Japanese and Chinese embroidery,
+embossed leather and rich brocades, all these
+found their way into the Cottagers' work-bags.</p>
+
+<p>Out of these fascinating odds and ends
+they fashioned gifts for Mrs. Crane, Anne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
+Halliday's mother, their out-of-town relatives,
+their parents and their school-teachers.
+They wanted, of course, to buy every toy
+that ever was made for Rosa Marie, little
+Anne Halliday, Peter Tucker and the Marcotte
+twins; but Mr. Black, meeting them in
+the toy-shop one day, implored them to leave
+just a few things in the shops for him to
+buy, particularly for Rosa Marie and little
+Peter Tucker, his namesake.</p>
+
+<p>And now, Mabel was immensely pleased
+with Henrietta; for, one day, Rosa Marie,
+cured of her cold, had been dressed in her
+cunning little Indian costume for the new
+girl's benefit. Rosa Marie had looked so
+very much more attractive than when she
+had had a cold that Henrietta had been
+greatly taken with her. As the way to
+Mabel's affections was through approval of
+Rosa Marie, Henrietta quickly found it, so
+the threatened breach was healed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Crane," Henrietta had cried,
+on beholding the little brown person in buckskin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+and feathers, "do let me telephone for
+James to bring the carriage so I can take
+Rosa Marie to our house and show her to
+my Grandmother. I'll take the very best of
+care of her. And all four of the girls can
+come with her, so she won't be afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>do</i>," pleaded the others.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's mild out to-day," returned
+Mrs. Crane, glancing out the window, "and
+a little fresh air won't hurt her. I guess her
+coat will go on right over these fixings and
+I can tie a veil over her head. You'll find a
+telephone in the library, on Mr. Black's
+desk."</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later, the six youngsters,
+carefully tucked between splendid fur robes,
+were on their way to Mrs. Slater's.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a perfectly heavenly plan," said
+Henrietta, her black eyes sparkling with
+impishness. "Want to hear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we do," encouraged the Cottagers.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," explained Henrietta, "a large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+box came from Father this morning. It
+hasn't been opened yet; but Greta and Simmons
+don't know that. I'm going to make
+them think that Rosa Marie is what came in
+that box&mdash;it's time I cheered them up a little,
+for Simmons has lost some money he had in
+the bank and Greta is homesick for the old
+country. Will you help?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es," promised Jean, doubtfully, "if
+you're not going to hurt anybody's feelings."</p>
+
+<p>"Shan't even scratch one," assured Henrietta.
+"Now, when we reach the house,
+I'll slip around to the basement door with
+Rosa Marie&mdash;the cook will let us in&mdash;and
+you must ring the front-door bell because
+that will take Simmons out of the way while
+I get up the back stairs. Ask for Grandmother,
+and I'll come down and get you
+when I'm ready."</p>
+
+<p>So the girls asked for Mrs. Slater&mdash;every
+one of them now liked the entertaining old
+lady very much indeed&mdash;and chatted with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
+her merrily until Henrietta came running
+down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Grannie," asked the lively girl, pressing
+her warm red cheek against Mrs. Slater's
+much paler one, "would you like to be
+amused? Would you like to be a black
+conspirator and humble your most haughty
+servitor to the dust? Then you must ascend
+to my haunted den and not say a single
+word for at least five minutes. Come on,
+girls."</p>
+
+<p>In Henrietta's oddly furnished room there
+were two large East Indian gods and one
+heathen goddess. Henrietta had managed
+to group these interesting, Oriental figures
+in one corner of the spacious chamber, with
+appropriate drapings behind them. Near
+them she had placed an empty packing case,
+oblong in shape and plastered with curious,
+foreign labels. It looked as if it were waiting
+to be carried away to the furnace room
+or some such place.</p>
+
+<p>Darkening her bedroom and her dressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+room, she placed her obliging grandmother
+and her four friends behind the heavy
+portières.</p>
+
+<p>"You can peek round the edges," said she,
+"but you mustn't be seen or heard or even
+suspected."</p>
+
+<p>Then, fun-loving Henrietta brought Rosa
+Marie from another room, removed her
+wraps, concealed them from sight and placed
+the stolid child in a sitting posture on a large
+tabouret near one of the richly colored
+statues. Next she rang for Greta, and ran
+downstairs in person to ask Simmons to
+come at once to remove the heavy packing
+case.</p>
+
+<p>Simmons obeyed immediately and just as
+the pair reached Henrietta's door, Greta,
+who had been in her own room, joined them.
+All three entered together.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you want to see my lovely new
+statue?" asked Henrietta. "There, with
+the rest of my heathen friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho," said Simmons, leaning closer to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+look. "<i>That's</i> wot came in that 'eavy box.
+Another 'eathen god from Hindia."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/i0258.jpg" width="310" height="500" alt="maid and butler looking at baby in native costume" />
+<div class="caption">"ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA."</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"He ees very pretty god-lady, Miss Henrietta,"
+approved Greta. "Looks most like
+real."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie, awed by her strange surroundings,
+played her part most beautifully.
+For a long moment she sat perfectly still.
+But, just as Simmons leaned forward to take
+a better look at her, Rosa Marie, who had
+suddenly caught a whiff of pungent smoke
+from the joss-sticks that Henrietta had
+lighted to create a proper atmosphere for
+her gods and goddesses, gave a sudden
+sneeze. The effect was all that could be
+desired. Simmons leaped backward and
+Greta, who was excitable, gave a piercing
+shriek.</p>
+
+<p>The hidden girls restrained their giggles,
+but only with difficulty; and Bettie said
+afterwards that she could feel Mrs. Slater
+shaking with helpless laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"My heye!" exclaimed Simmons, "wot'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+they be mykin' next! Look! Hit's movin'
+'is 'ead."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie proceeded deliberately to
+move more than her head. Putting both
+hands on the tabouret, she managed somehow
+to lift herself clumsily to all-fours,
+balancing uncertainly for several moments
+in that ungainly attitude. Then she rose to
+her feet, and, stiffly, like some mechanical
+toy, stretched out her arms toward Henrietta.
+Greta backed hastily through the
+doorway; but Simmons eyed the swaying
+youngster with enlightened eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Hit's a real biby, from Hindia," said he,
+"but think of hit comin' hall that wy in that
+there box. But them Indoos 'ave a lot of
+queer tricks and Hi suppose they drugged
+'im, mide a bloomin' mummy of 'im and sent
+directions for bringin' of 'im to."</p>
+
+<p>"Take the box downstairs, please," said
+Henrietta, succeeding in the difficult task of
+keeping her face straight. "This is a little
+North Indian from Lakeville, Simmons, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+an East Indian from India, and it was only
+some things that I'm not to look at till Christmas
+that came in the box."</p>
+
+<p>"Hi <i>thought</i> hit was mighty stringe," returned
+Simmons, looking very much relieved
+and not at all resentful. "Hit seemed
+sort of hawful, Miss 'Enrietta, to think as
+'ow 'uman bein's could tike such chances
+with heven their hown hoffsprings. But,
+just the sime, Miss 'Enrietta, Hi've 'eard of
+them 'Indoos doing mighty queer things,
+and Hi, for one, don't trust 'em."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV<br />
+
+<small>Comparing Notes</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>IT was eight o'clock, the morning of the
+twenty-fourth day of December, which
+is twice as exciting a day as the twenty-fifth
+and at least ten times as interesting as the
+twenty-sixth.</p>
+
+<p>Bettie, and as many of the little Tuckers
+as had been able to find enough clothes for
+decency, were eating pancakes a great deal
+faster than Mrs. Tucker could bake them
+over the Rectory stove. Marjory, her young
+countenance somewhat puckered because of
+the tartness of her grapefruit, was sitting
+sedately opposite her Aunty Jane. Jean had
+finished her breakfast and was tying mysterious
+tissue paper parcels with narrow
+scarlet ribbon; and Mabel, having suddenly
+remembered that this was the day that the
+postman brought interesting mail, was hurrying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
+with might and main to get into her
+sailor blouse in order to capture the letters.
+Of course she didn't expect to open any of
+her Christmas mail; but she did like to
+squeeze the packages. Henrietta was reading
+a long, delightful letter from her father.
+Mrs. Slater, too, had Christmas letters.</p>
+
+<p>Five blocks away Mr. Black and Mrs.
+Crane were finishing their breakfast. Their
+dining-room was at the back of the house,
+where its three broad windows commanded
+a fine view of the lake. Just at the top of
+the bluff and well inside the Black-Crane
+yard stood a wonderfully handsome fir tree,
+a truly splendid tree, for in all Lakeville there
+was no other evergreen to compare with it in
+size, shape or color.</p>
+
+<p>Every now and again, Mr. Black would
+turn in his chair to gaze earnestly out the
+window at the tree. For a long time, Mrs.
+Crane, her nice dark eyes dancing with fun,
+watched her brother in silence. But when
+he began to consume the last quarter of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
+second piece of toast she felt that it was time
+to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Peter," said she, "you can't do it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do what?" asked Mr. Black, with a
+guilty start.</p>
+
+<p>"Cut down that tree. I know, just as
+well as I know anything, that you're just
+aching to make that splendid big evergreen
+into a Christmas-tree for Rosa Marie and
+those four girls."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>How</i> do you know it?" queried Mr.
+Black, eying his sister with quick suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I had the same thought myself.
+It <i>would</i> be fine for Christmas&mdash;it looks like
+a Christmas-tree every day of the year.
+And if you've been a sort of bottled-up
+Santa Claus all your life you're apt to be
+pretty foolish when you're finally unbottled.
+And that tree&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But," queried Mr. Black, "what would
+it be the day after?"</p>
+
+<p>"That," confessed Mrs. Crane, "is what
+bothers <i>me</i>."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It does seem a shame," said Mr. Black,
+rising and walking to the window, "to cut
+down such a perfect specimen as that; and
+yet, in all my life I never met a tree so evidently
+designed for the express purpose of
+serving as a Christmas-tree. It's a real
+temptation."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," sighed Mrs. Crane. "It's
+been tempting <i>me</i>; but I said: 'Get thee behind
+me, Santa Claus, and send me to the
+proper place for Christmas-trees.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And did you go to that place?"</p>
+
+<p>"It came to me. I engaged a twelve-foot
+tree from a man that was taking orders
+at the door."</p>
+
+<p>"So did I," confessed Mr. Black. "I'm
+not sure that I didn't order two."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter Black! You're spoiling those
+children."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm having plenty of help," twinkled
+Mr. Black, shrewdly.</p>
+
+<p>With so many trees to choose from, it
+certainly seemed probable that the Black-Crane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+household would have at least one
+respectable specimen to decorate; but half
+an hour later, when the three ordered balsams
+arrived, both Mr. Black and Mrs.
+Crane were greatly disappointed. The trees
+had shrunk from twelve to six feet, and the
+uneven branches were thin and sparsely
+covered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" exclaimed Mr. Black, "all three
+of those trees together wouldn't make a
+whole tree."</p>
+
+<p>"They look," said Mrs. Crane, "as if
+they were shedding their feathers."</p>
+
+<p>"Most of them," agreed Mr. Black,
+"have already been shed. I said, Mr. Man,
+that I wanted <i>good</i> trees."</p>
+
+<p>"My wagon broke down," explained the
+tree-man, "so I couldn't bring anything that
+I couldn't haul on a big sled. They weigh a
+lot, those big fellows."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you make a special trip," suggested
+Mrs. Crane, "and bring us a first-class
+tree&mdash;just one?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's too late. I have to go too far before
+I'm allowed to cut any."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mr. Black, "I'll pay you for
+these, and I'll give you fifty cents extra to
+haul them off the premises. We don't want
+any such sorrowful specimens round here to
+cast a gloom over our Christmas, do we,
+Sarah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Peter," announced Mrs. Crane, when
+the man had departed with his scraggly
+trees, "I have an idea. The weather's
+likely to stay mild for another twenty-four
+hours, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so."</p>
+
+<p>"And this is an honest town?"</p>
+
+<p>"As honest as they make 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"And all those girls are accustomed to
+being outdoors&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>see</i>!" cried Mr. Black, giving Mrs.
+Crane's plump shoulders a sudden, friendly
+whack. "I <i>almost</i> thought of that myself.
+We'll certainly surprise 'em <i>this</i> time."</p>
+
+<p>Although it was getting late, Mr. Black<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+still hung about the house as if he had not
+yet freed his mind of Christmas matters.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," said Mr. Black, breaking a
+long silence, "that you've thought of a few
+things to put on the tree for those girls?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly,
+"I've gathered up some little fixings that I
+thought they'd fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"It might be a good idea," said Mr. Black,
+rising to ring for Martin, "for us to compare
+notes. Two heads are better than one,
+you know; and after what they did for us,
+we owe those little folks a splendid Christmas."</p>
+
+<p>"We certainly do," agreed Mrs. Crane,
+wiping away the sudden moisture that
+sprung to her eyes at thought of the memorable
+dinner party in Dandelion Cottage&mdash;the
+dinner that had brought her estranged
+brother to the rescue. "I don't know where
+I'd have been now if it hadn't been for those
+blessed children. In the poorhouse, probably."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Martin," said Mr. Black, huskily, "you
+go to the storeroom in the basement. Take
+a hatchet with you and knock the top off that
+wooden box that is marked with a big blue
+cross and bring it up here to me."</p>
+
+<p>Presently Martin, who always blundered
+if there was the very faintest excuse for
+blundering, returned, proudly bearing the
+cover of the large box.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," replied Mr. Black, turning
+twinkling eyes upon Mrs. Crane, who
+twinkled back. "Now bring up the box
+with all the things in it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get my things, too," offered Mrs.
+Crane. "They're right here in the library
+closet, in a clothes hamper."</p>
+
+<p>Then when Martin had brought the box,
+the two middle-aged people began to sort
+their presents. They went about it rather
+awkwardly because neither had had much
+experience; but they were certainly enjoying
+their novel occupation.</p>
+
+<p>"This," said Mr. Black, clearing a space<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
+on the big library table, "is Bettie's pile, and
+Heaven knows that I tried not to get it bigger
+than the other three; but everything I
+saw in the shops shouted 'Buy me for Bettie'&mdash;and
+I usually obeyed."</p>
+
+<p>"This is Jean's pile," said Mrs. Crane,
+baring another space, "and I guess I feel
+about Jean the way you do about Bettie; but
+I love Bettie too&mdash;and all of them. Rosa
+Marie's things will have to go on the floor&mdash;they're
+mostly bumpy and breakable."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black rummaged in his box, Mrs.
+Crane fished in her basket. Presently there
+was a rapidly growing, untidy heap of large,
+lumpy bundles on the floor for Rosa Marie,
+and four very neat stacks of square, compact
+parcels for the Cottagers.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's open them all," suggested Mr.
+Black, eagerly. "We can tie them up
+again."</p>
+
+<p>So the elderly couple, as interested as two
+children, opened their packages. At first,
+both were too busy renewing acquaintanceship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+with their own purchases to notice what
+the other was doing; but presently Mrs.
+Crane gave a start as her eye traveled over
+the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Peter Black," she exclaimed.
+"Here are two watches in Bettie's pile!"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't buy but one of them," declared
+Mr. Black, placing his finger on one of the
+dainty timepieces. "That's mine."</p>
+
+<p>"The other's mine," confessed Mrs.
+Crane. "And, Peter, did you go and buy
+dolls all around, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did," owned Mr. Black, opening a
+long narrow box. "One <i>always</i> buys dolls
+for Christmas."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I guess
+they can stand two apiece, because ours are
+not a bit alike. You see, you got carried
+away by fine clothes and I paid more attention
+to the dolls themselves. The bodies are
+first-class and the faces are lovely. I bought
+mine undressed and I've had four weeks'
+pleasure dressing them&mdash;I sort of hate to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
+give them up. The clothes are plain and
+substantial; I couldn't make 'em fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"But the watches, Sarah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess we'll have to send half of
+those watches back. Yours are the nicest&mdash;we'll
+keep yours."</p>
+
+<p>"I suspect," said Mr. Black, reflectively
+pinching two large parcels in Rosa Marie's
+heap, "that we've both bought Teddy bears
+for Rosa Marie. And we've both supplied
+the girls with perfume, purses and writing
+paper, but I don't see any books."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll use the extra-watch money for
+books," decided Mrs. Crane, promptly.
+"Suppose you attend to that&mdash;if we both do
+it we'll have another double supply. I see
+we've both bought candy, too; but I need a
+box for the milk-boy and I'd like to send
+some little thing to Martin's small sister."</p>
+
+<p>"On the whole," said Mr. Black, complacently,
+"we've managed pretty well considering
+our inexperience; but next time
+we'll do better."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI<br />
+
+<small>Christmas Eve</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>IN Lakeville, Christmas always began at
+exactly four o'clock the afternoon of the
+twenty-fourth; for the young people of that
+little town&mdash;even the very old young people
+with gray hair and youthful eyes&mdash;always
+indulged in an unusual and extremely enjoyable
+custom. The moment that marked this
+real beginning of Christmas found each
+person with gifts for her neighbor sallying
+forth with a great basketful of parcels on
+her arm. If one had a great many friends
+and neighbors it often took until ten o'clock
+at night to distribute all one's gifts. As
+each package was wrapped in white tissue
+paper, tied with ribbon and further adorned
+with sprigs of holly or gay Christmas cards,
+these Christmas baskets were decidedly attractive;
+and the streets of Lakeville, from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
+four to ten, were certain to be full of gayety
+and genuine Christmas cheer.</p>
+
+<p>On all other days of the year, the Cottagers
+traveled together; but on this occasion
+each girl was an entirely separate person.
+Bettie, wearing a fine air of importance,
+went alone to Mabel's, to Jean's and
+to Marjory's to leave her gifts for her three
+friends. Although, at all other times, it was
+her habit to run in unceremoniously, to-day
+she rang each door-bell and was formally admitted
+to each front hall, where she selected
+the package designed for each house. Jean
+and the other two, likewise, went forth by
+themselves to leave their mysterious little
+parcels. But when this rite was completed
+all four ran to their own homes, added more
+parcels to their gay baskets and then congregated
+in Mrs. Mapes's parlor.</p>
+
+<p>They had gifts for dear little Anne Halliday,
+the Marcotte twins, Henrietta Bedford,
+Rosa Marie, Mr. Black, Mrs. Crane, some
+distant cousins of Jean's and for all their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
+school-teachers that had not gone out of
+town for the holidays. Besides, their
+parents had intrusted them with articles to
+be delivered to their friends and Mabel had
+a gift for the dust-chute Janitor, a silver
+match-safe with the date of the fire engraved
+under his initials.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll go to Henrietta's first," decided
+Jean, "because that's the farthest."</p>
+
+<p>"And to the Janitor's next," said Mabel,
+"because I want to get it over and forget
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>To make things more exciting for Henrietta,
+the girls went in singly to present
+their offerings, the others crouching out of
+sight behind the stone balustrades that
+flanked the steps. Each time the bell rang,
+Henrietta was right at Simmons's heels when
+he opened the door. Then, after a brief
+wait outside, all four again presented themselves
+to invite Henrietta, who had gifts for
+Rosa Marie, to go with them to Mr. Black's
+and all the other places. Henrietta was glad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
+to go, because she herself was too new to
+Lakeville to have very many friends to favor
+with presents. The five had a very merry
+time with their baskets; but they were much
+too excited to stay a great while under any
+one roof. They shouted merry greetings to
+the rest of the basket-laden population and
+paused more than once to obligingly pull a
+door-bell for some elderly acquaintance who
+found that she needed more hands than she
+had started out with.</p>
+
+<p>"How jolly everybody is!" remarked
+Henrietta. "I never saw a more Christmassy
+lot of people. It must be lovely to
+have a long, long list to give to."</p>
+
+<p>"Father says this is an unusually nice
+town," offered Bettie. "The people seem
+actually glad to have folks sick and in trouble
+so they can send them flowers and things to
+eat."</p>
+
+<p>"What a charitable place," laughed
+Henrietta, gaily. "I hope nobody's longing
+for <i>me</i> to come down with anything.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+I'd rather stay well than eat flowers&mdash;they're
+too expensive just now."</p>
+
+<p>"My!" exclaimed Mabel, after all the
+gifts had been distributed and the girls, with
+their empty baskets turned over their heads,
+had started homeward, "won't to-morrow
+be a lively day. First, all our stockings; very
+early in the morning at home. Next, all our
+Christmas packages to open&mdash;I've about ten
+already that I haven't even squeezed&mdash;that
+is, not <i>very</i> hard, except one that I know is a
+bottle. Then our dinners&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Too bad we can't have all our dinners
+together," mourned Marjory, "but of course
+your mothers and my Aunty Jane and Henrietta's
+grandmother would be too lonely if
+we did; and all the families in a bunch would
+make too many to feed comfortably."</p>
+
+<p>"And then," proceeded Mabel, "a tree at
+Mr. Black's just as soon as it's dark enough
+to light the candles, and supper and another
+tree at Henrietta's in the evening, and a ride
+home in the Slater carriage afterwards, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+by that time we'll surely be too tired to
+walk."</p>
+
+<p>"And I've trimmed a tree for the boys at
+home," said Bettie. "There won't be anything
+on it for you, but you can all come to
+see it."</p>
+
+<p>"Aunty Jane says that Christmas-trees
+shed their feathers and make too much litter,"
+said Marjory, "but with three others
+to visit I don't mind if I don't have one."</p>
+
+<p>"You can have half of mine," offered
+Mabel, generously. "I shan't have time to
+trim more than half of it, anyway, so I'd
+like somebody to help."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," said Marjory, doubtfully,
+"that we ought to do something for the
+poor, but I don't know where to find any
+since our washwoman married the butcher."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you don't," laughed Henrietta.
+"I've nine cents left and it's got to last, for
+I shan't have any more until I get my allowance
+the first of January, unless somebody
+sends me money for Christmas."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I guess," giggled Jean, fishing an empty
+purse from her pocket, "the rest of us
+couldn't scare up nine cents between us; but
+I have an uncle who always sends me a paper
+dollar every year. I've spent it in at least
+fifty different ways already. I always have
+lovely times with that dollar <i>before</i> it comes,
+but it just sort of melts away into nothing
+afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," breathed Mabel, fervently, "<i>I</i>
+had an uncle like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," agreed Henrietta, "a few uncles
+with the paper-dollar habit wouldn't be bad
+things to have."</p>
+
+<p>"I caught a glimpse of your tree, Henrietta,"
+confessed Marjory. "I stood on
+the balustrade outside and peeked in the window
+when Jean was inside. It's going to be
+perfectly grand; but of course I didn't <i>mean</i>
+to peek. I just got up there because I was
+too excited to stay on the ground."</p>
+
+<p>"So did I," owned Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," said Mabel, "where Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
+Black's tree is. We were in all the downstairs
+rooms and I didn't see a sign of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably," teased Henrietta, "he's forgotten
+to order one. Unless one forms the
+habit very early in life, one is very apt to
+overlook little things like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Black never forgets," assured Bettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably it's some place in the yard,"
+ventured Marjory, not guessing how close
+she came to the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"No," declared Mabel, positively. "I
+looked out the windows and there wasn't a
+single sign of a tree anywhere. I pretty
+nearly asked about it, but I wasn't sure that
+that would be polite."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "There'll
+<i>be</i> one if Mr. Black has to plant a seed and
+grow it over night. He and Mrs. Crane are
+more excited over Christmas than we are.
+They can't think of anything else."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII<br />
+
+<small>A Crowded Day</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>MABEL rose very early indeed on
+Christmas morning to explore her
+bulging stocking and to open her packages;
+but Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were even
+earlier, and they were delighted to find that
+the weather had remained mild. Putting on
+their outside wraps and warm overshoes, the
+worthy couple went with good-natured Martin
+and Maggie, the nimble nursery maid, to
+the garden as soon as it was light. They
+strung the tall tree from top to bottom with
+tinsel and glittering Christmas-tree ornaments,
+the finest that money could buy.
+Martin and the maid, perched on tall step-ladders,
+worked enthusiastically. Mr. Black
+and Mrs. Crane handed up the decorations.
+The cook, watching them from the basement
+window, grinned broadly at the sight.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sure," said she, "'tis a lot of children
+they are; but 'twould do no harrum if all the
+wurruld was loike 'em."</p>
+
+<p>By church time the towering tree was in
+readiness except for a few of the more precious
+gifts, to be added later.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope," said Mrs. Crane, with a lingering,
+backward glance, when there was no
+further excuse for remaining outdoors,
+"that the air will be as quiet to-night as it
+is now. It would be dreadful if we couldn't
+light the candles."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to trust to luck," returned
+Mr. Black, "but I'm quite sure that luck will
+be with us."</p>
+
+<p>Of course the girls enjoyed their stockings
+at home, their gifts that arrived by mail
+and express from out-of-town relatives and
+the bountiful dinners at the home tables.
+But the Black-Crane tree to which Henrietta,
+likewise, had been invited, was something
+entirely new and so proved particularly enjoyable;
+if not, indeed, the crowning event<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+of the day. Martin had cleared away the
+snow and had laid boards and even a carpet
+for them to stand on, and there were chairs
+and extra wraps, only the girls were too excited
+to use them. But Mrs. Crane and
+placid Rosa Marie sat enveloped in steamer
+rugs while the others capered about the brilliantly
+lighted tree, constantly discovering
+new beauties.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare," sighed Mrs. Crane, happily,
+"you're the youngest of the lot, Peter."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," returned Mr. Black, "why not?
+It's the first real Christmas I've had for forty
+years&mdash;but let's have another Christmas dinner
+on New Year's Day; I was disappointed
+when all these young folks said, 'No, thank
+you,' to our invitation to dinner. Just remember,
+girls, we expect to see you all here
+the first of January or there'll be trouble&mdash;I'll
+see that it lasts all the year, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter Black," warned Mrs. Crane, "that
+step-ladder's prancing on one leg. If you
+go over that bluff you won't stop till you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+land in the lake. Let Martin do all the
+circus acts."</p>
+
+<p>"I've got it, now," said Mr. Black, coming
+down safely with the small parcel that
+had dangled so long just above his reach.
+"Here's something for Henrietta Bedford,
+with the tree's compliments."</p>
+
+<p>"How nice of you to remember me,"
+cried Henrietta, opening the parcel. "And
+what a dear little pin&mdash;just what I needed.
+Thank you very much indeed."</p>
+
+<p>Of all their gifts, however, the Cottagers
+liked their lovely little watches the best.
+They had expected no such magnificent gifts
+from Mr. Black, and their own people had,
+of course, considered them much too young
+to be trusted with watches.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me," said Mabel, strutting about
+with her timepiece pinned to her blouse, "I
+feel too grown-upedy for words. I never
+expected this moment to come."</p>
+
+<p>"I've <i>always</i> wanted a watch," breathed
+Jean, "but I certainly supposed I'd have to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
+wait until I'd graduated from high-school&mdash;folks
+almost always get them then."</p>
+
+<p>"And I," beamed Marjory, "never expected
+a <i>pretty</i>, really truly girl's watch, because&mdash;worse
+luck&mdash;I'm to get Aunty Jane's
+awful watch when she dies. Of course I don't
+want her to die a minute before her time, but
+getting even <i>that</i> watch seemed sort of hopeless
+because all Aunty Jane's ancestors that
+weren't killed by accident lived to enjoy their
+nineties. But that doesn't prevent Aunty
+Jane's promising me that clumsy old turnip
+whenever she's particularly pleased with
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie was too delighted for speech. But
+her big brown eyes spoke eloquently for her.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie accepted the unusual tree, all
+her Teddy bears, her dolls and other gifts,
+very much as a matter of course. Nothing
+it appeared was ever sufficiently surprising
+to astonish calm little Rosa Marie.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "she's awfully
+surprised inside."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I know <i>I</i> am," laughed Mabel. "Inside
+and out, too."</p>
+
+<p>Then, just as Mrs. Crane had decided that
+Rosa Marie had been outdoors long enough,
+the Slater carriage arrived for the girls.
+Mr. Black, beaming at the success of his
+Christmas party, packed them with all their
+belongings into the vehicle and they rolled
+happily away.</p>
+
+<p>They stopped at their own homes just
+long enough to drop most of the gifts they
+had garnered from the Black-Crane tree;
+and then Henrietta whisked her friends to
+the Slater home, where Mrs. Slater entertained
+them for two hours over a delightful,
+genuinely English Christmas supper.</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta's tree, too, was a very handsome
+one. A realistic Santa Claus who seemed
+as English as the supper, since he dropped
+the letter H just as Simmons always did,
+distributed the gifts. When the Cottagers
+opened odd, foreign-looking parcels and
+found that Henrietta had given each girl a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
+set of three beautiful Oriental boxes with
+jewelled tops, their delight knew no bounds.
+They had expected nothing so fine.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," explained Henrietta, "I told
+Father, months ago, to send me a lot of little
+things to give away for Christmas and of
+course he bought boxes. I believe he buys
+every one he sees."</p>
+
+<p>"They're darlings," declared Jean,
+dreamily. "They take you away to far-off
+places where things smell old and&mdash;and
+magnificent."</p>
+
+<p>"It's the grown-upness of my presents
+that I like," explained eleven-year-old
+Mabel, with a big sigh of satisfaction. "It's
+lovely to have people treat you as if you were
+somebody."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," laughed Marjory, "it's only
+two years ago that an absent-minded aunt
+of Mr. Bennett's sent Mabel a rattle, and the
+poor child can't forget it."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss 'Enrietta," inquired Santa Claus,
+anxiously, when the Slater tree, too, had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
+stripped of all but its decorations, "might
+Hi be hexcused now? Hi'm due at a Christmas
+ball and Hi'm hawfully afride these
+togs is meltin' me 'igh collar."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," laughed Henrietta, "you've done
+nobly and I hope you'll have a lovely time at
+the party."</p>
+
+<p>It was half-past ten before the Cottagers
+got to bed that night&mdash;a long day because
+they had risen so early.</p>
+
+<p>"But," breathed Bettie, happily, "when
+days are as nice as this I like 'em long."</p>
+
+<p>"It's nice to have friends," said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," sighed Mabel, "they'd make
+some kind of a watch that had to be wound
+every hour; it seems awfully hard to wait
+until morning."</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Bennett looked in that night
+to see if Mabel had remembered to take off
+her best hair ribbon, she found a doll on each
+side of the blissful slumberer, a watch pinned
+to her nightdress, a jeweled box clasped
+loosely in each relaxed hand and at least half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
+a bushel of other treasures under the uncomfortable
+pillow. As Mrs. Bennett gently
+removed all these articles and straightened
+the bed-clothes Mabel murmured in her sleep,
+"Merry Christmas, girls."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII<br />
+
+<small>A Bettie-less Plan</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>THE first thing that happened after
+Christmas was the announcement of
+the School Board's decision to wait a full
+year before beginning to build a new schoolhouse.</p>
+
+<p>"Even if we could decide on a site," said
+they, "it would be hard on the tax-payers
+to furnish money for such a building all at
+one assessment. By spreading it over two
+years' tax-rolls it will come easier."</p>
+
+<p>The fathers, for the most part, were
+pleased with the arrangement, but many of
+the mothers disliked it very much indeed.</p>
+
+<p>"We must do something about it," said
+Aunty Jane, who had called at Mrs. Bennett's
+to talk the matter over. "I'm in
+favor of sending Marjory away to some
+good girls' school, because she has some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
+money that is to be used solely for educational
+purposes. There is enough for college
+and for at least one year at a boarding school,
+besides something for extras. My conscience
+will feel easier when that money begins
+to go toward its proper purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"The Doctor thinks of going to Germany
+next fall for a special course of study that he
+thinks he needs," returned Mrs. Bennett.
+"If we could place Mabel in a safe, comfortable
+school, I could go with him. We've
+been talking of it for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly am not satisfied," admitted
+Mrs. Mapes, when Aunty Jane put the matter
+to her. "There are too many pupils
+crowded into that Baptist basement and it's
+so damp that I've had to put cold compresses
+on Jean's throat four times since the fire. If
+you can find a good school to fit a modest
+pocketbook we'd be glad to send Jean for
+the one year."</p>
+
+<p>Then Aunty Jane unfolded her plans to
+the Tuckers.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's a beautiful idea," said pleasant Dr.
+Tucker, "as far as the rest of you are concerned;
+but you will have to leave Bettie
+entirely out of the scheme; we simply can't
+afford it. We've always hoped to be able
+to do something for Dick&mdash;he wants to be a
+physician&mdash;but even that is hopelessly beyond
+us at present."</p>
+
+<p>"No," added Mrs. Tucker, shifting the
+heavy baby to her other arm and hoping that
+Aunty Jane would not notice the dust on the
+battered table, "we couldn't even think of
+sending Bettie. But Mrs. Slater intends letting
+Henrietta go some place next fall; why
+don't you talk it over with her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to," assured Aunty Jane. "You
+see, it will need a great deal of talking over
+because it may prove hard to find exactly the
+right kind of school. The eastern seminaries
+are too far away. It must be some place
+south of Lakeville, within a day's journey,
+within reach of all our pocketbooks, and in
+a healthful location. It mustn't be too big,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+too stylish, or too old-fashioned. I'm sending
+out postal cards every day and getting
+catalogues by every mail; but so far, I
+haven't come to any decision except that
+Marjory is to go <i>some</i> place."</p>
+
+<p>At first, the older people said little about
+school matters to the four girls, but as winter
+wore on it became an understood thing
+that not only fortunate Henrietta but Jean,
+Marjory and Mabel were to go away to
+school the following September.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't it be simply glorious," said Henrietta,
+who was entertaining the Cottagers
+in her den, "if all four of us land in the
+same school; and we <i>must</i>&mdash;I shall stand out
+for that. And you and I, Jean, shall room
+together and be chums."</p>
+
+<p>"Then Marjory and I," announced
+Mabel, "shall room together, too, and fight
+just the way we always do if Jean isn't on
+hand to stop us."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't it be perfectly fine?" breathed
+Marjory. "I've always loved boarding-school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
+stories and now we'll be living right
+in one."</p>
+
+<p>Bettie kept silence, but her eyes were big
+and troubled. With the girls gone she
+knew that her world would be sadly changed.
+Her close companionship with the other Cottagers&mdash;she
+was only three when she first
+began to play with Jean&mdash;had prevented her
+forming other friendships. Without doubt,
+Aunty Jane would be lonely; the Bennetts, in
+Germany, might miss noisy, affectionate
+Mabel, Mrs. Mapes might long for helpful
+Jean and Mrs. Slater would certainly find
+her big, beautiful home dull with no sparkling
+Henrietta but it was Bettie, poor little
+impecunious, uncomplaining Bettie, who
+would be the very loneliest of all. The
+others would lose only one girl apiece; Bettie's
+loss would be fourfold. Lovely Jean,
+sprightly Marjory, jolly Mabel and attractive
+Henrietta&mdash;how <i>could</i> she spare them all
+at once! And the glorious times the absent
+four would have together&mdash;how <i>could</i> Bettie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
+miss all that? It seemed, to the little, overwhelmed
+girl, too big a trouble to talk about.</p>
+
+<p>For a long, long time the more fortunate
+girls were too taken up with their own
+prospects to think very seriously of Bettie's;
+but one day Jean was suddenly astonished at
+the depth of misery that she surprised in
+Bettie's wistful, tell-tale eyes. After that,
+the girls openly expressed their pity for Bettie,
+who would have to stay in Lakeville.
+This proved even harder to bear than their
+light-hearted chatter; for it made Bettie pity
+herself to an even greater extent.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, it would be several months before
+the hated school&mdash;Bettie, by this time,
+was quite certain that she hated it&mdash;would
+swallow up her dearest four friends at one
+sudden, hideous gulp; but remote as the date
+was, the interested girls could talk of very
+little else. No matter what topic they might
+begin with, it always worked around at last
+to "when I go away next fall."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't have any clothes this spring,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
+said Jean, when the girls, in a body, were
+escorting Henrietta home from her dressmaker's.
+"Mother's letting my old things
+down and piecing everything till I feel like
+a walking bedquilt. You see, I'm to have
+new things to go away with."</p>
+
+<p>"Same here," asserted Mabel. "Only <i>my</i>
+mother's having a worse time than yours to
+make my things meet. My waist measure is
+twenty-nine inches and my skirt bands are
+only twenty-seven."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Only</i> twenty-seven," groaned shapely
+Henrietta.</p>
+
+<p>"If you see a second Aunty Jane," said
+Marjory, skipping ahead to imitate the elder
+Miss Vale's prim, peculiar walk, "running
+round Lakeville all summer, you'll know
+who it is. She's cutting down two of her
+thousand-year-old gowns to tide me over the
+season. One came out of the Ark and she
+purchased the other at a little shop on Mount
+Ararat."</p>
+
+<p>"Grandmother's making lists," laughed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
+Henrietta, "of all the things mentioned in
+all the catalogues. When she gets done,
+probably she'll add them all up and divide
+the result by <i>me</i>; and that will give a respectable
+outfit for one girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Bettie!" said sympathetic Jean,
+squeezing Bettie's slim hand. "You're out
+of it all, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>But this was too much for Bettie. She
+turned hastily and fled.</p>
+
+<p>The girls looked after her pityingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Bettie!" murmured Jean. "It's
+awfully hard on her to hear all this talk
+about school. She's always had us, you
+know, and she thinks there won't be a scrap
+of Lakeville left when we're gone."</p>
+
+<p>In February Rosa Marie created a little
+excitement by coming down with measles.
+Maggie, the maid, had broken out with this
+unlovely affliction and no one had suspected
+what the trouble was until she had peeled in
+the actual presence of Rosa Marie. Of
+course Rosa Marie came down with measles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
+too. But there was an unusual feature about
+this illness. Although it was Maggie and
+Rosa Marie who were supposed to be the
+sufferers it was really Mrs. Crane who did
+all the suffering. You see, this inexperienced
+lady read all the literature that she
+could find that touched on the subject of
+measles and its after-effects; and long after
+Rosa Marie had entirely recovered, conscientious
+Mrs. Crane remained awake
+nights waiting for the dreaded "after-effects"
+to develop.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll bury Mrs. Crane with whooping
+cough," sputtered Dr. Bennett, writing a
+soothing prescription for the good lady, "if
+Rosa Marie ever catches it. She's a hen
+bringing up a solitary duckling, and she's
+certainly overdoing it. She ought not to
+have the responsibility of that child; she's
+not fitted for responsibilities, yet she's the
+sort that takes 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll adopt Rosa Marie myself," declared
+Henrietta Bedford, hearing of this opinion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
+and waylaying Dr. Bennett in Mrs. Slater's
+hall to make her light-hearted offer. "She'd
+go beautifully with the other picturesque objects
+in my den and I'm very sure that the
+responsibility won't weigh <i>me</i> down."</p>
+
+<p>"So am I," laughed Dr. Bennett. "So
+sure of it that I shan't allow you to afflict
+your grandmother with any carelessly
+adopted babies. But that child is on my
+conscience, since Mabel was the principal
+culprit in the matter. We'll try to get Mrs.
+Crane to send her to an asylum; only that
+dear lady's conscience will have to be bombarded
+from all sides before it will let her
+consent to any such sensible plan. Perhaps
+you can get the girls&mdash;particularly Mabel,&mdash;to
+look at the matter from that point of
+view; we must rescue Mrs. Crane."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try to," promised Henrietta.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX<br />
+
+<small>Anxious Days</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>FOR the next few weeks the Cottagers led
+as quiet a life as almost daily association
+with Henrietta would permit. Jean
+grew a trifle taller, Marjory discovered new
+ways of doing her hair and Mabel remained
+as round and ruddy as ever. But everybody
+was worried about Bettie. She seemed
+listless and indifferent in school, she fell
+asleep over her books when she attempted to
+study at night, she grew averse to getting
+up mornings and day by day she grew thinner
+and paler, until even heedless Mabel observed
+that she was all eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble?" asked Jean, when
+Bettie said that she didn't feel like going to
+the Public Library corner to view the Uncle
+Tom's Cabin parade. "A walk would do
+you good, and it's only four blocks."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm tired," returned Bettie. "My head
+would like to go but my feet would rather
+not. And my hands don't want to do anything&mdash;or
+even my tongue. You can tell me
+about the parade&mdash;that'll be easier than looking
+at it."</p>
+
+<p>Now, this was a new Bettie. The old one,
+while not exactly a noisy person, had been so
+active physically that the others had sometimes
+found it difficult to follow her dancing
+footsteps. She had ever been quick to wait
+on the other members of her large family;
+or to do errands, in the most obliging
+fashion, for any of her friends. This new
+Bettie eyed the Tucker cat sympathetically
+when it mewed for milk; but she relegated
+the task of feeding pussy to one of her much
+more unwilling small brothers.</p>
+
+<p>"She needs a tonic," said Mrs. Tucker,
+giving Bettie dark-brown doses from a large
+bottle. "It's the spring, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>Two days after the parade there was great
+excitement among Bettie's friends. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
+had not appeared at school. That in itself
+was not an unusual occurrence, for Bettie
+often stayed at home to help her overburdened
+mother through particularly trying
+days; but when Jean stopped in to consult
+her little friend about homemade valentines,
+Mrs. Tucker met her with the news that
+Bettie was sick in bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't I see her?" asked Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not," replied Mrs. Tucker,
+who looked worried. "She's asleep just
+now and she has a temperature."</p>
+
+<p>When Mabel heard this latter fact she at
+once consulted Dr. Bennett.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," she queried, "do folks ever die
+of temperature?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes," returned the Doctor. "If
+the temperature is below zero they sometimes
+freeze. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Tucker says that's what Bettie's
+got&mdash;temperature."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a disease, child. It's a condition
+of heat or cold. But it's too soon to say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
+anything about Bettie&mdash;go play with your
+dolls."</p>
+
+<p>Henrietta and the remaining Cottagers
+immediately thought of lovely things to do
+for Bettie. So, too, did Mr. Black. Impulsive
+Henrietta purchased a large box of
+most attractive candy, Jean made her a
+lovely sponge cake that sat down rather
+sadly in the middle but rose nobly at both
+ends; Mabel begged half a lemon pie from
+the cook; Marjory concocted a wonderful
+bowl of orange jelly with candied cherries on
+top, Mrs. Crane made a steaming pitcherful
+of chicken soup and Mr. Black sent in a
+great basket of the finest fruit that the Lakeville
+market afforded.</p>
+
+<p>But when all these successive and well-meaning
+visitors presented themselves and
+their unstinted offerings at the Rectory door,
+Dr. Tucker received them sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Bettie is down with a fever," said he.
+"She can't eat <i>anything</i>."</p>
+
+<p>The days that followed were the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
+dreadful that the Cottagers had ever known.
+They lived in suspense. Day after day
+when they asked for news of Bettie the response
+was usually, "Just about the same."
+Occasionally, however, Dr. Bennett shook
+his head dubiously and said, "Not quite so
+well to-day."</p>
+
+<p>For weeks&mdash;for <i>years</i> it seemed to the disheartened
+children&mdash;these were the only tidings
+that reached them from the sick-room.
+There was a trained nurse whose white cap
+sometimes gleamed in an upper window, the
+grave-faced, uncommunicative doctor visited
+the house twice a day, a boy with parcels from
+the drug store could frequently be seen entering
+the Rectory gate and that was about all
+that the terribly interested friends could
+learn concerning their beloved Bettie. They
+spent most of their time hovering quietly
+and forlornly about Mrs. Mapes's doorstep,
+for that particular spot furnished the best
+view of the afflicted Rectory. They wanted,
+poor little souls, to keep as close to Bettie as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
+possible. If the sun shone during this time,
+they did not know it; for all the days seemed
+dark and miserable.</p>
+
+<p>"If we could only help a little," mourned
+Jean, who looked pale and anxious, "it
+wouldn't be so bad."</p>
+
+<p>"I teased her," sighed Henrietta, repentantly,
+"only two days before she was taken
+sick. I do wish I hadn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I gave her the smaller half of my
+orange," lamented Mabel, "the very last
+time I saw her. If&mdash;if I don't ever see&mdash;see
+her again&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," comforted Marjory, hastily,
+"she might have been just that much sicker
+if she'd eaten the larger piece. But <i>I</i> wish
+I hadn't talked so much about boarding
+school. It always worried her and sometimes
+I tried [Marjory blushed guiltily at
+the remembrance] to make her just a little
+envious."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," confessed Jean, "I sometimes
+neglected her just a little for Henrietta;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
+but I mean to make up for it if&mdash;if I
+have a chance."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," breathed Marjory, softly, "if
+we only have a chance."</p>
+
+<p>Then, because the March wind wailed forlornly,
+because the waiting had been so long
+and because it seemed to the discouraged
+children as if the chance, after all, were extremely
+slight&mdash;as slight and frail a thing as
+poor little Bettie herself&mdash;the four friends
+sat very quietly for many minutes on the
+rail of the Mapes's broad porch, with big
+tears flowing down their cheeks. Presently
+Mabel fell to sobbing outright.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black, on his way home from his
+office, found them there. He had meant to
+salute them in his usual friendly fashion, but
+at sight of their disconsolate faces he merely
+glanced at them inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"She's&mdash;she's just about the same,"
+sobbed Jean.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black, without a word, proceeded on
+his way; but all the sparkle had vanished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
+from his dark eyes and his countenance
+seemed older. He, too, was unhappy on Bettie's
+account and he lived in hourly dread of
+unfavorable news. The very next morning,
+however, there was a more hopeful air about
+Dr. Bennett when he left the Rectory.
+Mabel, waiting at home, questioned him
+mutely with her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"A very slight change for the better,"
+said he, "but it is too soon for us to be sure
+of anything. We're not out of the woods
+yet."</p>
+
+<p>Next came the tidings that Bettie was
+really improving, though not at all rapidly;
+yet it was something to know that she was
+started on the road to recovery.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the tedious days that followed
+were the most trying days of all, however,
+for the impatient children; because the
+"road to recovery" in Bettie's case seemed
+such a tremendously long road that her little
+friends began to fear that Bettie would
+never come into sight at the end of it, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
+she did at last. And such a forlorn Bettie
+as she was!</p>
+
+<p>She had certainly been very ill. They had
+shaved her poor little head, her eyes seemed
+almost twice their usual size and the girls
+had not believed that any living person could
+become so pitiably thin; but the wasting
+fever was gone and what was left of Bettie
+was still alive.</p>
+
+<p>Long before the invalid was able to sit up,
+the girls had been admitted one by one and
+at different times, to take a look at her.
+Bettie had smiled at them. She had even
+made a feeble little joke about being able to
+count every one of her two hundred bones.</p>
+
+<p>After a time, Bettie could sit up in bed.
+A few days later, rolled in a gaily flowered
+quilt presented by the women of the parish;
+she occupied a big, pillowed chair near the
+window; and all four of the girls were able
+to throw kisses to her from Jean's porch.
+And now she could eat a few spoonfuls of
+Mrs. Crane's savory broth, a very little of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
+Marjory's orange jelly and one or two of
+Mr. Black's imported grapes. But, for a
+long, long time, Bettie progressed no further
+than the chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what ails that child," confessed
+puzzled Dr. Bennett. "She's like a
+piece of elastic with all the stretch gone from
+the rubber. She seems to lack something;
+not exactly vitality&mdash;animation, perhaps, or
+ambition. Yes, she certainly lacks ambition.
+She ought to be outdoors by now."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry and get well," urged Jean, who
+had been instructed to try to rouse her too-slowly-improving
+friend. "The weather's
+warmer every day and it won't be long before
+we can open Dandelion Cottage. And
+we've sworn a tremendous vow not to show
+Henrietta&mdash;she's crazy to see it&mdash;a single
+inch of that house until you're able to trot
+over with us. Here's the key. You're to
+keep it until you're ready to unlock that door
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Drop it into that vase," directed Bettie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
+"It seems a hundred miles to that cottage,
+and I'll never have legs enough to walk so
+far."</p>
+
+<p>"Two are enough," encouraged Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Both of mine," mourned Bettie, displaying
+a wrinkled stocking, "wouldn't make a
+whole one."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Slater wants to take you to drive
+every day, just as soon as you are able to
+wear clothes. She told me to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems a fearfully long way to the
+stepping stone," sighed Bettie. "Go home,
+please. It's makes me tired to <i>think</i> of
+driving."</p>
+
+<p>"There's certainly something amiss with
+Bettie," said Dr. Bennett, when told of this
+interview. "Some little spring in her seems
+broken. We must find it and mend it or we
+won't have any Bettie."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXX<br />
+
+<small>An April Harvest</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class='drop-cap'>SPRING is an unknown season in Lakeville.
+But if one waits sufficiently long,
+there comes at last a period known as the
+breaking of winter. Since, owing to the
+heavy snows of January, February and
+March, there is always a great deal of winter
+to break, the process is an extended and&mdash;to
+the "overshoed" young&mdash;a decidedly trying
+one. But even in northerly Lakeville there
+finally came an afternoon when the girls
+decided that the day was much too fine to be
+spent indoors; and that the hour had arrived
+when it would be safe to leave off rubbers.
+The snow had disappeared except in very
+shaded spots and the Bay was free of ice
+except for a line of white that showed far
+out beyond the intense blue. The sidewalks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
+were comparatively dry, but streams of icy
+water gurgled merrily in the deep gutters
+that ran down all the sloping streets. Although
+this abundant moisture was only the
+result of melting snow in the hills back of
+Lakeville and possessed no beauty in itself,
+these impetuous streams gave forth pleasant
+springlike sounds and made one think sentimentally
+of babbling brooks, fresh clover
+and blossoms by the wayside. Yet one
+needed to draw pretty heavily on one's imagination
+to see either flowers or grass at
+that early date; but the <i>feel</i> of them, as Jean
+said, was certainly in the air.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's walk down by Mrs. Malony's,"
+suggested Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"She doesn't milk at this time of day,
+does she?" queried Henrietta, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"We needn't go in," assured Mabel.
+"We'll just run down one hill and up the
+other; but it's always lovely to walk along
+the shore road. There's a sort of a side-walk&mdash;if
+folks aren't too particular."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't it be beautiful," sighed Jean,
+"if Bettie could only come too? This air
+would do anybody good."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," mourned Marjory, "nothing
+seems quite right without Bettie."</p>
+
+<p>The girls, a trifle saddened, went slowly
+down the hill.</p>
+
+<p>"We must certainly steer clear of Mrs.
+Malony," warned Henrietta, as the egg-woman's
+house became visible. "Another
+dose of her hot milk would drive me from
+Lakeville."</p>
+
+<p>"There she is now!" exclaimed Mabel.
+"I recognize her by her cow; she's driving
+it home."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it ran away to look for summer,"
+offered Marjory. "The lady seems
+displeased with her pet."</p>
+
+<p>"An' how are the darlin' childer?" cried
+Mrs. Malony, greeting her friends while yet
+a long way off. "'Tis a sight for a quane
+to see, so manny purty lasses. But where's
+me little black-oiyed Bettie&mdash;there's the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
+swate choild for yez? Sure Oi heard she
+was loike to die, wan while back. Betther,
+is ut? Thot's good, thot's good. An' wud
+yez belave ut, Miss Mabel,&mdash;'tis fatter than
+iver yez are, Oi see&mdash;Oi had yez in me moind
+all this blissid day."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" asked Mabel, rather coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, 'twas loike this, darlin'," explained
+Mrs. Malony, dropping her voice to
+a more confidential tone and nodding significantly
+toward a distant chimney. "'Twas
+siven o'clock the mornin' whin Oi seen
+smoke risin' from the shanty beyant. All
+day Oi've been moinded to be goin' acrost
+the p'int an' lookin' in at thot windy to see
+if 'twas thot big-eyed Frinch wan come back
+wid the spring."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean Rosa Marie's mother!"
+gasped Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Thot same," proceeded Mrs. Malony,
+calmly. "But what wid Malony white-washin'
+me kitchen, an' me pesky hins
+walkin' in me parlor and me cow breakin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
+down me fince, sure Oi've had no toime to be
+traipsin' about."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't you go now?" queried Jean,
+eagerly. "If it <i>is</i> that woman we ought to
+know it."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till Oi toi up me cow," consented
+Mrs. Malony.</p>
+
+<p>The four friends, with Mrs. Malony in
+tow, picked their way over the badly kept
+path that led to the shanty.</p>
+
+<p>"The door's been mended," announced
+observant Marjory.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't seem quite proper," said gentle-mannered
+Jean, "to peek into people's
+windows. Couldn't we knock and ask in a
+perfectly proper way to see the lady of the
+house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we could thot," replied Mrs.
+Malony.</p>
+
+<p>"Do hurry!" urged Mabel, breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>There was no response to Jean's rather
+nervous knock; but when Mrs. Malony applied
+her stout knuckles to the door there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
+were results. The door was opened cautiously,
+just a tiny crack at first, then to its
+full extent. A dark-eyed woman with two
+thick braids falling over her shapely shoulders
+confronted them.</p>
+
+<p>She swept a mildly curious glance over
+Mrs. Malony, over Jean, over Marjory, over
+Henrietta. Then her splendid eyes fell
+upon Mabel; they changed instantaneously.</p>
+
+<p>In a twinkling the woman had brushed
+past the others to seize startled Mabel by
+both shoulders and to gaze piercingly into
+Mabel's frightened eyes. The woman tried
+to speak; but, for a long moment, her voice
+would not come.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you!" she gasped, clutching
+Mabel still more tightly, as if she feared that
+the youngster might escape. "Ees eet you
+for sure? But w'ere, w'ere&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>No further words would come. The poor
+creature's evident emotion was pitiful to
+see, and the girls were too overwhelmed to
+do more than stare with all their might.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Rosa Marie's all right," gulped Mabel,
+coming to the rescue with exactly the right
+words. "She's safe and happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Ma babee, ma babee," moaned the
+woman, her long-lashed eyes beaming with
+wonderful tenderness, and expressive of intense
+longing. "Bring me to heem queek&mdash;ah,
+so queek as evaire you can. Ma babee&mdash;I
+want heem queek."</p>
+
+<p>Then, without stopping for outer garments
+or even to close her door, and still
+holding fast to the abductor of Rosa Marie,
+the woman hurriedly led the way from the
+clearing.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Malony would have remained with
+the party if she had not encountered her
+frolicsome cow, a section of fence-rail dangling
+from her neck, strolling off toward
+town.</p>
+
+<p>On the way up the long hill the woman,
+who still possessed all the beauty and the
+"mother-looks" that Mabel had described,
+talked volubly in French, in Chippewa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
+Indian and in broken English. As Henrietta
+was able to understand some of the
+French and part of the English, the girls
+were able to make out almost two-thirds of
+what she was saying.</p>
+
+<p>On the day of Mabel's first visit the young
+mother had departed with her new husband,
+who, not wanting to be burdened with a
+step-child, had persuaded her to abandon
+Rosa Marie, for whom she had subsequently
+mourned without ceasing. As might have
+been expected, the man had proved unkind.
+He had beaten her, half starved her and
+finally deserted her. She had worked all
+winter for sufficient money to carry her to
+Lakeville and had waited impatiently&mdash;all
+that time without news of her baby&mdash;for
+mild weather in order that the shanty, the
+only home that she knew, might become
+habitable.</p>
+
+<p>The hill was steep and long, but all five
+hastened toward the top. Marjory ran
+ahead to ring the Black-Crane door-bell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
+Mabel piloted the trembling mother straight
+to the nursery. Jean, learning from Martin
+where to look for Mrs. Crane, ran to
+fetch her.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa Marie, in her little chair and placidly
+stringing beads, looked up as unconcernedly
+as if it were an ordinary occasion. The
+woman, uttering broken, incoherent sounds
+sped across the big room, dropped to her
+knees and flung her arms about Rosa Marie.
+Then, for many moments, her face buried in
+Rosa Marie's neck, the only-half-civilized
+mother sobbed unrestrainedly.</p>
+
+<p>The child, however, gazed stolidly over
+her mother's shoulder at the other visitors,
+all of whom were much more moved than
+she. Mrs. Crane, indeed, was shedding
+tears and even Mr. Black seemed touched.
+As for Mabel, that sympathetic young person
+was weeping both visibly and audibly,
+without exactly knowing why.</p>
+
+<p>Since the repentant mother, who refused
+to let her baby out of her arms for a single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
+moment, begged to be allowed to take Rosa
+Marie to the shanty that very night, Mrs.
+Crane, aided by the willing girls and Mr.
+Black, did what they could toward making
+the place comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>After Martin and Mr. Black had carried
+a whole motor-carful of bedding, food and
+fuel to the shanty, the now radiant mother,
+Rosa Marie, her toys, her clothes and all her
+belongings, were likewise transported to
+the humble lakeside dwelling. Everybody
+was so busy and the whole affair was
+over so quickly that no one had time for
+regrets.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, wonderingly,
+"I ought to feel as if I'd lost something.
+Instead, I'm all of a whirl."</p>
+
+<p>"I said," Mabel triumphed, "that she'd
+come back."</p>
+
+<p>Jean was commissioned to go the next
+morning to break the news to Bettie. It
+seemed to Dr. Bennett and to the hopeful
+Cottagers that this important happening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
+would surely rouse the listless little maid if
+anything could. Mr. Black, who arrived
+with a great bunch of violets while Jean was
+telling the wonderful tale as graphically as
+she could, expectantly watched Bettie's pale
+countenance. Her wistful, weary eyes
+brightened for a moment and a faint, tender
+smile flickered across her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad," said she. "Now Mrs.
+Crane won't have to have whooping cough
+and all the other things."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Crane is going to find work for
+Rosa Marie's mother," announced Jean,
+"and the shanty is to be mended."</p>
+
+<p>"That's nice," returned Bettie, who, however,
+no longer seemed interested in Rosa
+Marie's mother. "But my ears are tired
+now; don't tell me any more."</p>
+
+<p>After this failure, Mr. Black followed
+crestfallen Jean downstairs; he drew her into
+the shabby Rectory parlor.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Jean," demanded he, sternly, "is
+there a solitary thing in this whole world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
+that Bettie wants? Is there anything that
+could <i>possibly</i> happen that would wake her
+up and bring her back? I'm dreadfully
+afraid she's slipping away from us, Jean;
+and she's far too precious to lose. Now
+think&mdash;think <i>hard</i>, little girl. Has she <i>ever</i>
+wanted anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why," responded Jean, slowly, as if
+some outside force were dragging the words
+from her, "right after Christmas there <i>was</i>
+something, I think. A big, impossible something
+that <i>nobody</i> could possibly help. She
+didn't talk about it&mdash;and yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;&mdash; Perhaps
+she did worry."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," insisted Mr. Black, "I want it
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"She seemed to get used to the idea so&mdash;so
+uncomplainingly. Still, she may have
+cared more than anybody suspected. She's
+<i>like</i> that&mdash;never cries when she's hurt."</p>
+
+<p>"What idea?" demanded Mr. Black.
+"Cared for what? Make it clear,
+child."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You see," explained Jean, "all of us&mdash;Henrietta,
+Marjory, Mabel and I&mdash;have
+been talking a great deal about going away
+to boarding school&mdash;we're all going. But
+Bettie&mdash;Bettie, of course, knew that she
+couldn't go. There was no money and her
+father said&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And why in thunder," shouted Mr.
+Black, forgetting the invalid and striding up
+and down the room with his fists clenched,
+"didn't somebody say so? What do folks
+think the good Lord <i>gave</i> us money for?
+Why didn't&mdash;Come upstairs. We'll settle
+this thing right now."</p>
+
+<p>Impulsive Mr. Black, with dazed Jean at
+his heels, opened Bettie's door and walked in.
+Bettie lifted her tired eyes in very mild
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad pennies," she smiled, "always come
+back. What's all the noise about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bettie," demanded Mr. Black, "do you
+want to go away to school with those
+other girls next September?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bettie opened her eyes wide. Jean said
+afterwards that she "pricked up her ears,"
+too.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," continued Mr. Black, keeping
+a sharp watch on Bettie's awakening countenance,
+"you're going. And if <i>I</i> say
+you're going, you surely are. Now, don't
+worry about it&mdash;the thing's settled. You're
+going with the others."</p>
+
+<p>"Open the windows," pleaded Bettie, her
+face alight with some of the old-time eagerness.
+"I want to see how it smells outdoors."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe we've done it," breathed
+Jean. "She looks a lot brighter."</p>
+
+<p>And they had. No one had realized how
+tender, uncomplaining Bettie had dreaded
+losing her friends. And in her weakened
+state, both before and after the fever, the
+trouble had seemed very big. The load had
+almost crushed sick little Bettie. Now that
+it was lifted, and it was, for Mr. Black
+swept everything before him, there was nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
+to keep the little girl from getting well
+with truly gratifying speed.</p>
+
+<p>"Bettie," asked Dr. Bennett, the next
+evening, "are you sure this is your own
+pulse? If it is, it's behaving properly at last."</p>
+
+<p>"She ate every bit of her supper," said
+Mrs. Tucker, happily, "and she asked, this
+afternoon, if she owned any shoes. She's
+really getting well."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm hurrying," laughed happy Bettie,
+"to make up for lost time. Do give me
+things to make me fat&mdash;as fat as Mabel."</p>
+
+<p>"She's certainly better," said the satisfied
+doctor. "By to-morrow we'll have to tie
+her down to keep her from dancing. She's
+our own Bettie, at last."</p>
+
+<p class='center'>
+THE END<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class='tnote'>
+<p class='center'><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></p>
+
+<p>Punctuation errors repaired. Varied hyphenation retained.</p>
+
+<p>Front page description, "Scovill" changed to "Scovel" (Florence Scovel Shinn)</p>
+
+<p>Page 96, "Bennettt" changed to "Bennett" (Mrs. Bennett, rescuing)</p>
+
+<p>Page 165, "shruddered" changed to "shuddered" ("Ugh!" shuddered Marjory)</p>
+
+<p>Page 214, repeated word "a" removed from text. Original read (like a
+a lobster's)</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+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 Adopting of Rosa Marie
+       A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage
+
+Author: Carroll Watson Rankin
+
+Illustrator: Florence Scovel Shinn
+             Miriam Selss
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2014 [EBook #46059]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Beth Baran, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
+Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+    _by_
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+    _Illustrated by_
+    FLORENCE SCOVEL SHINN
+
+    _Frontispiece and jacket in full
+    color by_ MIRIAM SELSS
+
+
+In this charming girl's book we meet again the four chums of _Dandelion
+Cottage_. Their friendship knit closer than ever by their summer at
+playing house, the girls enlarge their activity by mothering a pretty
+little Indian baby.
+
+"Those who have read _Dandelion Cottage_ will need no urge to follow
+further.... A lovable group of four children, happily not perfect, but
+full of girlish plans and pranks and a delightful sense of humor."
+
+    --_Boston Transcript._
+
+Just the type of book that every girl _from eight to fifteen_ enjoys.
+
+[Illustration: "MY SOUL, WHAT ARE YOU, ANYWAY?"]
+
+
+
+
+Dandelion Series
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+(_A Sequel to Dandelion Cottage_)
+
+    BY
+
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+    Author of "Dandelion Cottage," "The Girls of
+    Gardenville," etc.
+
+
+    _With Illustrations by_
+    FLORENCE SCOVEL SHINN
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    NEW YORK
+    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+    COPYRIGHT, 1908,
+    BY
+    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+
+
+    COPYRIGHT, 1936,
+    BY
+    CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
+
+
+    PRINTED IN THE
+    UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+    TO
+
+    EMILY, PHYLLIS, POLLY
+    AND SUZANNE
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+    CHAPTER                          PAGE
+         I. BORROWED BABIES            1
+        II. ROSA MARIE                 9
+       III. MABEL'S DAY               18
+        IV. AN UNUSUAL EVENING        27
+         V. RETURNING ROSA MARIE      34
+        VI. THE DARK SECRET           43
+       VII. DISCOVERY                 52
+      VIII. THE FUGITIVE SOLDIER      64
+        IX. A SURPRISE                73
+         X. BREAKING THE NEWS         83
+        XI. THE ALARM                 91
+       XII. THE FIRE                 101
+      XIII. A HEROINE'S COME-DOWN    111
+       XIV. A BIRTHDAY PARTY         119
+        XV. AN UNEXPECTED TREAT      130
+       XVI. A SCATTERED SCHOOL       140
+      XVII. AN INVITATION            151
+     XVIII. OBEYING INSTRUCTIONS     161
+       XIX. WITH HENRIETTA           173
+        XX. THE CALL RETURNED        183
+       XXI. GETTING EVEN             195
+      XXII. A FULL AFTERNOON         204
+     XXIII. TAKING A WALK            215
+      XXIV. THE STATUE FROM INDIA    226
+       XXV. COMPARING NOTES          237
+      XXVI. CHRISTMAS EVE            248
+     XXVII. A CROWDED DAY            256
+    XXVIII. A BETTIE-LESS PLAN       265
+      XXIX. ANXIOUS DAYS             275
+       XXX. AN APRIL HARVEST         286
+
+
+
+
+THE PERSONS OF THE STORY
+
+
+  BETTIE TUCKER, aged 12:  }
+  JEANIE MAPES,  aged 14:  }  The Cottagers
+  MARJORY VALE,  aged 12:  }
+  MABEL BENNETT, aged 11:  }
+
+  ROSA MARIE: The Unreturnable Baby.
+
+  THE MOTHER OF ROSA MARIE.
+
+  ANNE HALLIDAY:       }
+  THE MARCOTTE TWINS:  }  Borrowed Babies.
+  THE LITTLE TUCKERS:  }
+
+  HENRIETTA BEDFORD: The New Girl.
+
+  MRS. HOWARD SLATER:  }  Of Henrietta's Household.
+  SIMMONS:             }
+
+  THE JANITOR:     An Unappreciated Hero.
+
+  DR. TUCKER:      A Clergyman with More Children than Money.
+
+  DR. BENNETT:     A Physician.
+
+  MR. BLACK:       A Friend to Children.
+
+  MRS. CRANE:      His Sister.
+
+  AUNTY JANE:      Marjory's Sole Visible Relative.
+
+  SOME MOTHERS AND BROTHERS.
+
+  MRS. MALONY:     The Light-hearted Egg-woman.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  MY SOUL, WHAT ARE YOU, ANYWAY                      _Frontispiece_
+                                                              PAGE
+  ROSA MARIE AND THE SIDEWALK WERE ONE                          16
+  THE STURDY FELLOW CARRIED HER OUT OF THE ROOM                112
+  THE DECIDEDLY DEPRESSED FOUR STARTED DOWN THE STREET         164
+  "ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA"                            234
+
+
+
+
+THE ADOPTING OF ROSA MARIE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Borrowed Babies
+
+
+THE oldest inhabitant said that Lakeville was experiencing an unusual
+fall. He would probably have said the same thing if the high-perched
+town had accidentally tumbled off the bluff into the blue lake; but in
+this instance, he referred merely to the weather, which was certainly
+unusually mild for autumn.
+
+It was not, however, the oldest, but four of the youngest citizens that
+rejoiced most in this unusual prolonging of summer; for the continued
+warm weather made it possible for those devoted friends, Jean Mapes,
+Marjory Vale, Mabel Bennett and little Bettie Tucker, to spend many
+a delightful hour in their precious Dandelion Cottage, the real,
+tumble-down house that was now, after so many narrow escapes, safely
+their very own. Some day, to be sure, it would be torn down to make
+room for a habitable dwelling, but that unhappy day was still too
+remote to cause any uneasiness.
+
+Of course, when very cold weather should come, it would be necessary
+to close the beloved Cottage, for there was no heating plant, there
+were many large cracks over and under the doors and around the windows;
+and by lying very flat on the dining-room floor and peering under
+the baseboards, one could easily see what was happening in the next
+yard. These, and other defects, would surely make the little house
+uninhabitable in winter; but while the unexpectedly extended summer
+lasted, the Cottagers were rejoicing over every pleasant moment of
+weather and praying hard for other pleasant moments.
+
+Of all the games played in Dandelion Cottage, the one called "Mother"
+was the most popular. To play it, it was necessary, first of all, to
+divide the house into four equal parts. As there were five rooms, this
+division might seem to offer no light task; but, by first subtracting
+the kitchen, it was possible to solve this difficult mathematical
+problem to the Cottagers' entire satisfaction.
+
+But of course one can't play "Mother" without possessing a family.
+The Cottagers solved this problem also. Bettie's home could always be
+counted on to furnish at least two decidedly genuine babies and Jean
+could always borrow a perfectly delightful little cousin named Anne
+Halliday; but Marjory and Mabel, to their sorrow, were absolutely
+destitute of infantile relatives. Mabel was the chief sufferer. Sedate
+Marjory, plausible of tongue, convincing in manner, could easily
+accumulate a most attractive family at very short notice by the simple
+expedient of borrowing babies from the next block; but nowhere within
+reasonable reach was there a mother willing to intrust her precious
+offspring a second time to heedless Mabel.
+
+"Now, Mabel," Mrs. Mercer would say, when Mabel pleaded to have young
+Percival for her very own for just one brief hour, "I'd really like to
+oblige you, but it's getting late in the season, you are not careful
+enough about doors and windows and the last time you borrowed Percival
+you brought him home with a stiff neck that lasted three days."
+
+"But I did remember to return him," pleaded Mabel.
+
+"Do you sometimes forget?" queried Mrs. Mercer, with interest.
+
+"I did twice," confessed always honest Mabel; "but truly I don't see
+how _I_ can help it when babies sleep and sleep and sleep the way those
+two did. You see, I made a bed for Gerald Price on the lowest-down
+closet shelf, and he was so perfectly comfortable that he thought he
+was asleep for all night."
+
+"What about the other time?"
+
+"That was Mollie Dixon. But then, I had five children that day and only
+one bed. Mollie slipped down in the crack at the back--she's awfully
+thin--and I never missed her until her mother came after her. That was
+rather a bad time [Mabel sighed at the recollection] for Mrs. Dixon
+found the Cottage locked up for the night and poor little Mollie crying
+under the bed."
+
+"Mabel! And you want to borrow my precious Percival!"
+
+"But it couldn't happen _again_," protested Mabel, earnestly. "Bettie
+says that I'm just like lightning; I never strike twice in the same
+place. That's the reason I get into so many different kinds of scrapes.
+I'll be ever so careful, though, if you'll let me borrow Percival just
+this one time."
+
+Mrs. Mercer, however, refused to part with Percival. Other mothers,
+approached by pleading Mabel, refused likewise to intrust their babies
+to her enthusiastic but heedless keeping. They knew her too well.
+
+"The thing for you to do," suggested Marjory, ostentatiously washing
+the perfectly clean faces of the four delightful small persons that she
+had been able, without any trouble at all, to borrow in Blaker Street,
+"is to find a mother that really _wants_ to get rid of her children."
+
+"Yes," said Bob Tucker, who had dropped in to deliver the basket of
+apples that Mrs. Crane had sent to her former neighbors, "you ought to
+advertise for the kind of mother that feeds her babies to crocodiles.
+Perhaps some of them have emigrated to this country and sort of miss
+the Ganges River."
+
+"You might try the orphan asylum," offered Jean, as balm for this
+wound. "It's only four blocks from here."
+
+"I have," returned Mabel, dejectedly. "I went there early this morning."
+
+"What happened?" demanded Bettie, who had just arrived with a little
+Tucker under each arm.
+
+"They said they'd let them go 'permanently to responsible parties.' I
+didn't know just exactly what that meant, so I said: 'Does that mean
+that you'll lend me a few for two hours?'"
+
+"And would they?"
+
+"Well, they didn't. They said I'd better borrow a Teddy bear."
+
+"How mean," said sympathetic Bettie. "Nevermind, I'll lend you Peter,
+this time."
+
+"Say," queried Mabel, after she had accepted Bettie's proffered
+brother, "what does 'permanently' mean?"
+
+"For keeps," explained Jean.
+
+"What are 'responsible parties'?"
+
+"Jean and Bettie and I," twinkled Marjory, "but not you."
+
+"That's good," laughed Bob, who, like Marjory, loved to tease. "But
+never mind, Mabel. After you've practised a year or two on Peter,
+who's a nuisance if there ever was one, you'll find yourself growing
+respons---- Whoop! What was that?"
+
+"That" was a sudden crash that resounded through the house. Everybody
+rushed to the kitchen. The big dish-pan that Mabel had left on the
+edge of the kitchen table was upside down on the floor. At least
+half of little Peter Tucker was under it. But the half that remained
+outside was so unmistakably alive that nobody felt very seriously
+alarmed--except Peter.
+
+"Thank goodness!" said Mabel, removing the pan, "this is just a little
+Tucker and not any Percival Mercer! Cheer up, Peter. You're not as wet
+as you think you are. There wasn't more than a quart of water in that
+pan and it was almost perfectly clean."
+
+And Peter, soothed by Mabel's reassuring tone, immediately cheered up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Rosa Marie
+
+
+NOT long after Mabel's ineffectual attempt to borrow an orphan Mrs.
+Bennett dispatched her small daughter to Lake Street to find out, if
+possible, why Mrs. Malony, the poultry woman, had failed to send the
+week's supply of fresh eggs.
+
+Now, the way to Mrs. Malony's was most interesting, particularly to a
+young person of observing habits. There were houses on only one side
+of the street and most of those were tumbling down under the weight of
+the sand that each rain carried down the hillside. But the opposite
+side of the road was even more attractive, for there one had a grassy,
+shrubby bank where one could pick all sorts of things off bushes and
+get burrs in one's stockings; a narrow stretch of pebbled beach where
+one could sometimes find an agate, and a wide basin of very shallow
+water where one could almost--but not quite--step from stone to stone
+without wetting one's feet. It was certainly an enjoyable spot. The
+distance from Mabel's home to Mrs. Malony's was very short--a matter of
+perhaps five blocks. But if a body went the longest way round, stopped
+to scour the green bank for belated blackberries, prickly hazelnuts,
+dazzling golden-rod or rare four-leaved clovers; or loitered to gather
+a dress-skirtful of stony treasures from the glittering beach, going to
+Mrs. Malony's meant a great deal more than a five blocks' journey.
+
+Just a little beyond the poultry woman's house, on the lake side of
+the straggling street, a small, but decidedly attractive point of land
+jutted waterward for perhaps two hundred feet. On this projecting point
+stood a small shanty or shack, built, as Mabel described it later,
+mostly of knot-holes. She meant, without knowing how to say it, that
+the lumber in the hut was of the poorest possible quality.
+
+On this long-to-be-remembered day, a small object moving in the
+clearing that surrounded the shack attracted Mabel's attention.
+Curiosity led her closer to investigate.
+
+"It's just as I thought!" exclaimed Mabel, peering rapturously through
+the bushes. "It's a real baby!"
+
+Sure enough! It _was_ a baby.
+
+Mabel edged closer, moving cautiously for fear of frightening her
+unexpected find. She saw a small toddler, aged somewhere between two
+and three years, roving aimlessly about the chip-strewn clearing. The
+child's round cheeks, chubby wrists, bare feet and sturdy legs were
+richly brown. A straggling fringe of jet-black hair overhung the stout
+baby's black, beadlike eyes.
+
+Near the doorway of the rickety shack a man, half French, half Indian,
+stood talking earnestly and with many gesticulations to a dark-skinned
+woman, framed by the doorway. The woman had large black eyes, shaded
+by very long black lashes. She wore her rather coarse black hair in
+two long, thick braids that hung in front of her straight shoulders.
+In spite of her dark color, her worn shoes, her ragged, untidy gown,
+she seemed to Mabel an exceedingly pretty woman. The man, too, was
+handsome, after a bold, picturesque fashion; but the woman was the more
+pleasing.
+
+Mabel approached timidly. She felt that she was intruding.
+
+"Good-morning," said she, ingratiatingly. "Is this your little boy?"
+
+"Him girl," returned the woman, with a sudden flash of white teeth
+between parted crimson lips. "Name Rosa Marie. Yes, him _ma petite_
+daughtaire. You like the looks on him, hey?"
+
+"Oh, so much," cried Mabel, impulsively. "Oh, _would_ you do me a
+favor?"
+
+"A favaire," repeated the woman, with a puzzled glance. "W'at ees a
+favaire?"
+
+"Oh, _would_ you lend your baby to me? Would you let me have her to
+play with for---- Oh, for all day?"
+
+"Here?" queried the mother, doubtfully.
+
+"No, not here. In my own home--up there, on the hill. _Could_ I keep
+her until six o'clock? I just adore babies, and she's so fat and
+cunning! Oh, please, _please_! I'd be just awfully obliged."
+
+A look of understanding flashed suddenly between the man and the woman;
+but Mabel, stooping to make friends with little Rosa Marie, did not
+observe it.
+
+"Your fodder 'ave nice house, plainty food, plainty money?" queried the
+woman, running a speculative eye over Mabel's plain but substantial
+wardrobe.
+
+"Oh yes," returned Mabel, thoughtlessly. "And besides I have a
+playhouse. That is, it isn't exactly mine, but I just about live in it
+with three other girls, and that's where I want to take Rosa Marie.
+I'll be awfully careful of her if you'll only let me take her. Oh,
+_do_ you think she'll come with me? Couldn't you _tell_ her to?"
+
+The woman, bending to look into Rosa Marie's black eyes, talked loudly
+and rapidly in some foreign tongue. The mother's voice was harsh,
+but her eyes, Mabel noticed, seemed soft and tender, and much more
+beautiful than Rosa Marie's.
+
+"Now," said the woman, turning to Mabel and speaking in broken English,
+"eef you want her, you must go at once. Go now, I tell you. Go queek,
+queek! Pull hard eef she ees drag behind. But go, I tell you, _go_!"
+
+The voice rose to an unpleasant, almost too stirring pitch that jarred
+suddenly on Mabel's nerves; but, obeying these hasty instructions, the
+little girl drew Rosa Marie out of the inclosure, led her across the
+street and lifted her to the sidewalk. Looking back from the slight
+elevation, Mabel noticed that the man was again talking earnestly and
+gesticulating excitedly; while the woman, once more framed by the
+doorway, followed, with her big black eyes, the chubby figure of Rosa
+Marie.
+
+"I'll bring her back all safe and sound," shouted Mabel, over her
+shoulder. "Don't be afraid. Good-by, until six o'clock!"
+
+Escorting Rosa Marie to Dandelion Cottage proved no light task.
+Her legs were very short, it soon became evident that she was not
+accustomed to using them for walking purposes, the way was mostly
+uphill and the little brown feet were bare. At first Mabel led, coaxed
+and encouraged with the utmost patience; but presently Rosa Marie sat
+heavily on the sidewalk and refused to rise. That is, she didn't _say_
+that she wouldn't rise. She remained sitting with such firmness of
+purpose that it seemed hopeless to attempt to break her of the habit.
+
+Mabel walked round and round her firmly seated charge in helpless
+despair. Rosa Marie and the sidewalk were one.
+
+"Want any help?" asked a friendly voice. It belonged to a large,
+freckled boy who was carrying two pails of water from the lake to one
+of the tumble-down houses.
+
+[Illustration: ROSA MARIE AND THE SIDEWALK WERE ONE.]
+
+"Yes, I do," responded Mabel, promptly. "If you could just lift this
+child high enough for me to get hold of her I think I could carry her."
+
+So the boy, setting his pails down, obligingly lifted Rosa Marie's
+solid little person, Mabel clasped the barrel-shaped body closely, and,
+after a word of thanks to the kind boy, proceeded homeward. But even
+now her troubles were not ended. By silently refusing to cuddle, Rosa
+Marie converted herself into a most uncomfortable burden. Her entire
+body was a silent protest against leaving her home.
+
+"Do make yourself soft and bunchy," pleaded Mabel, giving Rosa Marie
+sundry pokes, calculated to make her double up like a jack-knife.
+"Here, bend this way. _Haven't_ you any joints anywhere? Do hold tight
+with your arms and legs. _This_ way. Pshaw! You're just like a
+stuffed crocodile. Well, _walk_ then, if you can't hang on like a real
+child. There's one thing certain, you shan't sit down again. I s'pose
+we'll get there _sometime_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Mabel's Day
+
+
+ALMOST hopeless as it seemed at times, Mabel and the silent brown
+baby finally reached Dandelion Cottage. There they found Jean, seated
+in a chair with her lovely little cousin Anne Halliday perched like
+a pink and white blossom on the edge of the dining table before her,
+tying Anne's bewitching yellow curls with wide pink ribbons. Anne was
+a perpetual delight, for, besides being a picture during every moment
+of the long day, her ways were so quaint and so attractive that no one
+could help admiring her.
+
+Marjory, her countenance carefully arranged to depict the deepest
+sorrow, stood guard over the Marcotte twins, who, touchingly covered
+with nasturtiums, were laid out on the parlor cozy corner, awaiting
+burial. Their blue eyes blinked and their pink toes twitched; but, on
+the whole, they played their parts in a most satisfactory manner.
+
+Bettie, with two small but attractive Tucker babies clinging to her
+brief skirts, was exclaiming: "These are my jewels," when tired, dusty
+Mabel, pushing reluctant Rosa Marie before her, walked in.
+
+"For mercy's sake, what's that!" gasped Jean, sweeping Anne Halliday
+into her protecting arms.
+
+"Is--is it something the cat dragged in?" asked Marjory.
+
+"Is--_can_ it be a _real_ child?" demanded Bettie.
+
+"This," announced Mabel, with dignity, "is _my_ child. Her name is Rosa
+Marie--with all the distress on the _ee_."
+
+"The distress seems to be all over both of you," giggled Marjory.
+
+"That's just dust," explained Mabel.
+
+"Did you both roll home like a pair of barrels?" queried Jean, "or did
+the Village Improvement folks use you to dust the sidewalks?"
+
+"What's the matter with that child's complexion?" demanded Marjory. "Is
+she tanned?"
+
+"Coming home took long enough for us both to get tanned," returned
+Mabel, crossly, "but Rosa Marie's French, I guess."
+
+"French! French nothing!" exclaimed Marjory. "She's nothing but a
+little wild Indian. Look at her hair. Look at her small black eyes.
+Look at her high cheekbones. Where in the world did you get her?"
+
+Mabel explained. For once, the girls listened with the most flattering
+attention. Anne Halliday bobbed her pretty head to punctuate each
+sentence, the Tucker babies stood in silence with their mouths open,
+even the nicely laid-out Marcotte twins on the sofa sat up to hear the
+tale.
+
+"And she's all mine until six o'clock," concluded Mabel, triumphantly.
+
+"If she were mine," said Jean, "I'd give her a bath."
+
+"I'd give her two," giggled Marjory.
+
+So Mabel, assisted by Jean, Marjory, Bettie, little Anne, the two
+Tucker babies and the now very much alive Marcotte twins gave Rosa
+Marie a bath in the dish-pan. Although they changed the water as fast
+as they could heat more in the tea-kettle, although they used a whole
+bar of strong yellow soap, two teaspoonfuls of washing powder and a
+_very_ scratchy washcloth lathered with Sapolio, Rosa Marie, who bore
+it all with stolid patience, was still richly brown from head to heels,
+when she emerged from her bath.
+
+"Let's play Pocohontis!" cried Marjory, seizing the feather duster.
+"Put feathers in her hair and drape her in my brown petticoat. I'll be
+Captain John Smith in Bob Tucker's rubber boots."
+
+"You won't either," retorted Mabel, indignantly. "I guess, after I
+dragged this child all the way up here to play 'Mother' with, I'm not
+going to have her used for any old Pocohontises. She's my child, and
+I'm going to have the entire use of her while she lasts."
+
+"After all," replied Marjory, cuttingly, "I don't want her. I'm sure
+_I_ wouldn't care for any of _that_ colored children. The usual shade
+is quite good enough for me."
+
+But, while the novelty lasted and in spite of Marjory's declaration,
+Rosa Marie was a distinct success. Little Anne Halliday's cunningest
+ways and quaintest speeches went unheeded when Rosa Marie refused to
+wear shoes and stockings. She had never worn a shoe, and, without
+uttering a word, she made it plain that she had no intention of
+hampering her pudgy brown feet with the cast-off footgear of the young
+Tuckers.
+
+Neither would she wear clothes, until Jean showed her the solitary
+garment she had arrived in, now soaking in a pan of soapy water. After
+they had arrayed her in a long-sleeved apron of Anne's--it didn't go
+round, but had to be helped out with a cheese-cloth duster--it was
+evident that the unaccustomed whiteness bothered her. She was not used
+to being so remarkably stiff and clean.
+
+The Marcotte twins, again prepared for burial, quarrelled most
+engagingly as to which should be buried under the apple-tree, both
+preferring that fruitful resting-place to the barren waste under
+the snowball bush; but nobody listened because Rosa Marie was doing
+extraordinary things with her bowl of bread and milk. Having lapped the
+milk like a cat, she was deftly chasing the crumbs round the bowl with
+a greedy and experienced tongue. It was plain that Rosa Marie had no
+table manners.
+
+As for the infantile Tuckers, they were an old story. On this occasion
+they crawled into the corner cupboard and went to sleep and nobody
+missed them for a whole hour, just because Rosa Marie was emitting
+queer little startled grunts every time Marjory's best doll wailed
+"Mam-mah!" "Pap-pah!" for her benefit. There was no doubt about it,
+Rosa Marie was decidedly amusing.
+
+The day passed swiftly; much too swiftly, Mabel thought. Very much
+mothered Rosa Marie, who had obligingly consumed an amazing amount of
+milk--all, indeed, that the Cottagers had been able to procure--started
+homeward, towed by Mabel. That elated young person had declined all
+offers of company; she coveted the full glory of returning Rosa Marie
+to her rightful guardian. Mabel, indeed, was visibly swollen with
+pride. She had given the Cottagers a most unusual treat. She had not
+only surprised them by proving that she _could_ borrow a baby, but
+had kept them amused and entertained every moment of the day. It had
+certainly been a red-letter day in the annals of Dandelion Cottage.
+
+Mabel more than half expected to meet Rosa Marie's mother at the very
+first corner. The other real mothers had always seemed desirous--over
+desirous, Mabel thought--of welcoming their home-coming babies back
+to the fold; but the mother of Rosa Marie, apparently, was of a less
+grudging disposition.
+
+Mabel laboriously escorted her reluctant charge to the very door of the
+shanty without encountering any welcoming parent. The borrower of Rosa
+Marie knocked. No one came. She tried the door. It was locked.
+
+"How queer!" said Mabel. "Seems to me I'd be on hand if I had an
+engagement at exactly six o'clock. But then, I always _am_ late."
+
+Dragging an empty wooden box to the side of the house, Mabel climbed to
+the high, decidedly smudgy window and peered in.
+
+There was no one inside. There was no fire in the battered stove. The
+doors of a rough cupboard opposite the window stood open, disclosing
+the fact that the cupboard was bare. There were no bedclothes in the
+rough bunk that served for a bed; no dishes on the table; no clothing
+hanging from the hooks on the wall. Both inside and outside the house
+wore a strangely deserted aspect. It seemed to say: "Nobody lives here
+now, nobody ever did live here, nobody ever will live here."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+An Unusual Evening
+
+
+MABEL looked in dismay at Rosa Marie.
+
+"Where do you s'pose your mother is?" she demanded.
+
+It was useless, however, to question Rosa Marie. That stolid young
+person was as uncommunicative as what Marjory called "the little
+stuffed Indians in the Washington Museum." The Indians to whom Marjory
+referred were made of wax. Rosa Marie seemed more like a little wooden
+Indian. The countenance of little Anne Halliday changed with every
+moment; but Rosa Marie's wore only one expression. Perhaps it had only
+one to wear.
+
+"I say," said Mabel, gently shaking her small brown charge by the
+shoulders, "where does your mother usually go when she isn't home?"
+
+A surprised grunt was the only response.
+
+Rosa Marie, too suddenly released, sat heavily on the ground,
+thoughtfully scratched up the surface and filled her lap with handfuls
+of loose, unattractive earth.
+
+"Goodness! What an untidy child!" cried Mabel, snatching her up and
+shaking her, although Rosa Marie's weight made her youthful guardian
+stagger. "I wanted your mother to see you clean, for once. Here, sit
+on this stick of wood. I s'pose we'll just have to wait and wait until
+somebody comes. Well, _sit_ in the sand if you want to. I'm tired of
+picking you up."
+
+Rosa Marie's home was in rather an attractive spot. The big, quiet lake
+was smooth as glass, and every object along its picturesque bank was
+mirrored faithfully in the quiet depths. The western sky was faintly
+tinged with red. Against it the spires and tall roofs of the town stood
+out sharply; but at this quiet hour they seemed very far away.
+
+Mabel, seated on the wooden box that she had placed under the window,
+leaned back against the house and clasped her hands about her knees,
+while she gazed dreamily at the picture and listened with enjoyment to
+the faint lap of the quiet water on the pebbled beach.
+
+Both Mabel and Rosa Marie had had a busy day. Both had taken unusual
+exercise. And now all the sights and sounds were soothing, soothing.
+
+You can guess what happened. Both little girls fell asleep. Rosa Marie,
+flat on her stomach, pillowed her head on her chubby arms. Mabel's
+head, drooping slowly forward, grew heavier and heavier until finally
+it touched her knees.
+
+An hour later, the sleepy head had grown so very heavy that it pulled
+Mabel right off the box and tumbled her over in a confused, astonished
+heap on the ground.
+
+"My goodness!" gasped Mabel, still on hands and knees. "Where am I,
+anyway? Is this Saturday or Sunday? Why! It's all dark. This--this
+isn't my room--why! why! I'm outdoors! How did I get outdoors?"
+
+Mabel stood up, took a step forward, stumbled over Rosa Marie and went
+down on all-fours.
+
+"What's that!" gasped bewildered Mabel, groping with her hands. She
+felt the rough black head, the plump body, the round legs, the bare
+feet of her sleeping charge. Memory returned.
+
+"Why! It's Rosa Marie, and we're waiting here by the lake for her
+mother. It--ugh! It must be midnight!"
+
+But it wasn't. It was just exactly twenty minutes after seven o'clock
+but, with the autumn sun gone early to bed, it certainly seemed very
+much later. The house was still deserted.
+
+"I guess," said Mabel, feeling about in the dark for Rosa Marie's
+fat hand, "we'd better go home--or some place. Come, Rosa Marie, wake
+up. I'm going to take you home with me. Oh, _please_ wake up. There's
+nobody here but us. It's way in the middle of the night and there might
+be _any_thing in those awfully black bushes."
+
+But Rosa Marie, deprived of her noontide nap, slumbered on. Mabel shook
+her.
+
+"Do hurry," pleaded frightened Mabel. "I don't like it here."
+
+It was anything but an easy task for Mabel to drag the sleeping
+child to her feet, but she did it. Rosa Marie, however, immediately
+dropped to earth again. During the day she had seemed stiff; but now,
+unfortunately, she proved most distressingly limber. She seemed, in
+fact, to possess more than the usual number of joints, and discouraged
+Mabel began to fear that each joint was reversible.
+
+"Goodness!" breathed Mabel, when Rosa Marie's knees failed for the
+seventh time, "it seems wicked to shake you _very_ hard, but I've got
+to."
+
+Even with vigorous and prolonged shakings it took time to get Rosa
+Marie firmly established on her feet, and the children had walked more
+than a block of the homeward way before Rosa Marie opened one blinking
+eye under the street lamp.
+
+If it had been difficult to make the uphill journey in broad daylight
+with Rosa Marie wide awake and moderately willing, it was now a doubly
+difficult matter with that young person half or three-quarters asleep
+and most decidedly unwilling.
+
+"I wish to goodness," grumbled Mabel, stumbling along in the dark,
+"that I'd borrowed a real baby and not a heathen."
+
+The longest journey has an end. The children reached Dandelion
+Cottage at last. Mabel found the key, unlocked the door, tumbled Rosa
+Marie, clothes and all, into the middle of the spare-room bed; waited
+just long enough to make certain that the Indian baby slept; then,
+reassured by gentle, half-breed snores, Mabel, still supposing the
+time to be midnight, ran home, climbed into her own bed nearly an hour
+earlier than usual and was soon sound asleep. Her mind was too full of
+other matters to wonder why the front door was unlocked at so late an
+hour.
+
+Mrs. Bennett, dressing to go to a party, heard her daughter come in.
+
+"How fortunate!" said she. "Now I shan't have to go to Jean's
+and Marjory's and Bettie's to hunt for Mabel. She must be tired
+to-night--she doesn't often go to bed so early."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Returning Rosa Marie
+
+
+EARLY the next morning, Jean, needing her thimble to sew on a vitally
+necessary button, ran to the supposedly empty cottage to get it. Taking
+the short cut through the Tuckers' back yard she found Bettie feeding
+Billy, the seagull, one of Bob's numerous pets.
+
+"Billy always wakes everybody up crying for his breakfast," explained
+thoughtful little Bettie. "Bob's spending a week at the Ormsbees' camp,
+so I have to get up to feed Billy so father can sleep."
+
+"Why don't the other boys do it?"
+
+"Mercy! _They'd_ sleep through anything. Going to the Cottage?"
+
+"Yes, come with me," returned Jean, "while I get my thimble. It's so
+big that it almost takes two to carry it."
+
+"All right," laughed Bettie, crawling through the hole in the fence.
+
+Jean's thimble was a standing joke. A stout and prudent godmother had
+bestowed a very large one on the little girl so that Jean would be
+in no danger of outgrowing the gift. Jean was now living in hopes of
+sometime growing big enough to fit the thimble.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, after a brief search, "the key isn't under the
+doormat! Where do you s'pose it's gone?"
+
+"Here it is in the door. But how in the world did it get there? I
+locked that door myself last night and tucked the key under the mat. I
+_know_ I did."
+
+"I saw you do it," corroborated Jean.
+
+"Perhaps Marjory's inside."
+
+"It isn't Mabel, anyway. She's always the last one up."
+
+"Mercy me!" cried Bettie, who had been peeking into the different rooms
+to see if Marjory were inside. "Come here, Jean. Just look at this!"
+
+"This" was brown little Rosa Marie sitting up in the middle of the
+pink and white spare-room bed, like, as Bettie put it, a brown bee
+in the heart of a rose. Her small dark countenance was absolutely
+expressionless, so there was no way of discovering what _she_ thought
+about it all.
+
+"My sakes!" exclaimed Jean, with indignation, "that lazy Mabel never
+took her home, after all! Why! We'll have a whole band of wild Indians
+coming to scalp us right after breakfast! How _could_ she have been so
+careless. This is the worst she's done yet."
+
+"But it's just like Mabel," said Bettie, giving vent, for once, to her
+disapproval of Mabel's thoughtlessness. "She likes things ever so much
+at first. Then she simply forgets that they ever existed."
+
+"Who forgets?" demanded Mabel, bouncing in at the front door.
+
+"You," returned Jean and Bettie, with one accusing voice.
+
+"Prove it."
+
+"You forgot to take Rosa Marie home last night."
+
+"I never did. I took her every inch of the way home, stayed with her
+all alone in the dark for pretty nearly a _year_, and then had to bring
+her all the way back again, walking in her sleep. So there, now!"
+
+"But why in the world didn't you leave her with her own folks?"
+
+"Her horrid mother wasn't there. And between 'em, I didn't get any
+supper and only a little sleep."
+
+"But what are you going to do?" queried astonished Jean.
+
+"After she drinks this quart of milk," explained Mabel, "I'm going to
+take her home again."
+
+"Where did you get so much milk?" asked Bettie, suspiciously.
+
+Mabel colored furiously. "I begged it from the milkman," she confessed.
+"That's why I'm up so early. I've been sitting on our kitchen doorstep
+for two hours, waiting for him to come."
+
+Mabel spent all that day industriously returning Rosa Marie to a home
+that had locked its doors against her. No pretty, dark, French mother
+stood in the doorway. No tall, dark man wandered about the yard. No
+neighbor came from the tumbling houses across the street to explain the
+woman's puzzling absence.
+
+It proved a most tiresome day. Mabel was not only mentally weary from
+trying to solve the mystery, but physically tired also from dragging
+Rosa Marie up and down the hill between Dandelion Cottage and the
+child's deserted home. The girls went with her once, but, having
+satisfied their curiosity as to Rosa Marie's abiding-place, turned
+their attention to pleasanter tasks. Walking with Rosa Marie was too
+much like traveling with a snail. One such journey was enough.
+
+Moreover, Mabel's pride had suffered. A grinning boy, looking from
+plump Mabel's ruddy countenance to fat Rosa Marie's expressionless
+brown one, had asked wickedly:
+
+"Is that your sister? You look enough alike to be twins."
+
+After that, Mabel feared that other persons might mistake the small
+brown person for a relative of hers, or, worse yet, mistake her for an
+Indian.
+
+"Goodness me!" groaned Mabel, toiling homeward from her second trip,
+"it was hard enough to borrow a baby, but it's enough sight worse
+getting rid of one afterwards. There's one thing certain; I'll _never_
+borrow another."
+
+Late in the day Mabel thought of Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman. Perhaps
+she would know what had become of Rosa Marie's vanished mother.
+Dropping Rosa Marie inside the gate, Mabel knocked at Mrs. Malony's
+door.
+
+"The folks that lived in the shanty beyant?" asked Mrs. Malony. "Sure,
+darlint, nobody's lived there for years and years save gipsies and
+tramps and such like."
+
+"But day before yesterday--no, yesterday morning--I saw a young
+Frenchwoman----"
+
+"A black-eyed gal wid two long braids and wan small Injin? Sure, Oi
+know the wan you mane. Her man, Injin Pete, died a month ago, some two
+days after they come to the shack."
+
+"But where is she now?" asked Mabel.
+
+"Lord love ye," returned Mrs. Malony, "how wud Oi be after knowin'? She
+came and she wint, like the rest av thim."
+
+"There was a man--not a gentleman and not exactly a tramp--talking
+to her yesterday. Perhaps you know where _he_ is. I couldn't find
+_anybody_."
+
+"Depind upon it," said Mrs. Malony, easily, "she's gone wid him. She's
+Mrs. Somebody Else by now, and good riddance to the pair av thim."
+
+"But," objected Mabel, drawing the branches of a small shrub aside and
+disclosing Rosa Marie sprawling on the ground behind it, "she left her
+baby."
+
+"The Nation, she did!" gasped Mrs. Malony, for once surprised out of
+her serenity. "Wud ye think of thot, now!"
+
+"I've _been_ thinking of it," returned Mabel, miserably. "And I don't
+know what in the world to do. You see, she left the baby with _me_."
+
+"Take her home wid ye," advised Mrs. Malony, hastily; so hastily that
+it looked as if the Irishwoman feared that _she_ might be asked to
+mother Rosa Marie. "I'll kape an eye on the shack for ye. If that
+good-for-nothin' black-haired wan comes back, Oi'll be up wid the news
+in two shakes of a dead lamb's tail, so Oi will. In the mane toime, be
+a mother to thot innocent babe yourself. She needs wan if iver a choild
+did."
+
+"I've been that for two whole days now," groaned Mabel.
+
+"Thot's right, thot's right," encouraged Mrs. Malony. "Ye were just
+cut out for thot same. Good luck go wid ye."
+
+Rosa Marie spent a second night in the spare room of Dandelion Cottage.
+She, at least, seemed utterly indifferent as to her fate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The Dark Secret
+
+
+THE four Cottagers sat in solemn conclave round the dining-room table
+next morning. Rosa Marie, flat on her stomach on the floor, lapped milk
+like a cat and licked the bowl afterwards; but now no one paid the
+slightest attention.
+
+"I think," said Jean, removing her elbows from the table, "that we'd
+better tell our mothers and Aunty Jane all about it at once. They'll
+know what to do."
+
+"So do I," said Marjory.
+
+"So do I," echoed Bettie.
+
+"_I_ don't," protested Mabel, whose hitherto serene countenance now
+showed signs of great anxiety. "If you ever tell _anybody_, I'll--I'll
+never speak to you again. This joke--if it _is_ a joke--is on _me_. I
+got into this scrape and it's _my_ scrape."
+
+"But," objected Jean, "we always do tell our mothers everything. That's
+why they trust us to play all by ourselves in Dandelion Cottage."
+
+"Give me just a few days," pleaded Mabel. "Perhaps that woman got kept
+away by some accident. I'm sure Rosa Marie's mother has mother feelings
+inside of her, _some_ place--I saw 'em in her face when I was leading
+Rosa Marie away. I _know_ she'll come back. Until she does, I'll take
+care of that poor deserted child myself."
+
+"It's a blessing she never cries, anyway," observed Bettie. "If she
+were a howling child I don't know _what_ we'd do. As it is, she's not
+_much_ more trouble than a Teddy bear."
+
+If Mrs. Mapes hadn't had a missionary box in her cellar to pack for
+Reservation Indians of assorted sizes and shapes with the cast-off
+garments of all Lakeville; if Mrs. Bennett had not been exceedingly
+busy with a seamstress getting ready to go out of town for an
+important visit; if Aunty Jane had not been even busier trying to make
+green tomato pickles out of ripe tomatoes; if Mrs. Tucker had not been
+too anxious about the throats of the youngest three Tuckers to give
+heed to the doings of the larger members of her family, these four good
+women would surely have discovered that something unusual was taking
+place under the Cottage roof. As it was, not one of the mothers, not
+even sharp Aunty Jane, discovered that the Cottagers were borrowing an
+amazing amount of milk from their respective refrigerators.
+
+The novelty worn off, Rosa Marie became a heavy burden to at least
+three of the Cottagers' tender consciences. Mabel's conscience may have
+troubled her, but not enough to be noticed by a pair of moderately
+careless parents. Mabel, however, grew more and more attached to Rosa
+Marie; the others did not. To tell the truth, the borrowed infant was
+not an attractive child. Many small Indians are decidedly pretty, but
+Rosa Marie was not. Her small eyes were too close together, her upper
+lip was much too long for the rest of her countenance and her large
+mouth turned sharply down at the corners. But loyal Mabel was blind
+to these defects. She saw only the babyish roundness of Rosa Marie's
+body, the cunning dimples in her elbows and the affectionate gleam that
+sometimes showed in the small black eyes. But then, it was always Mabel
+who found beauty in the stray dogs and cats that no one else would
+have on the premises. During these trying days the Cottagers _almost_
+quarreled.
+
+"That child is all cheeks," complained Marjory, petulantly. "They
+positively hang down. Do you suppose we're giving her too much milk?
+She's disgustingly fat, and she hasn't any figure."
+
+"She has altogether too much figure," declared Jean, almost crossly. "I
+fastened this little petticoat around what I _thought_ was her waist
+and it slid right off. So now I've got to make buttonholes. Such a
+nuisance!"
+
+"Pity you can't use tacks and a hammer," giggled Marjory.
+
+The clothing of Rosa Marie had presented another distressing problem.
+She owned absolutely nothing in the way of a wardrobe. The single,
+unattractive garment she had worn on her arrival had not survived the
+girls' attempts to wash it. They had left it boiling on the stove, the
+water had cooked off and the faded gingham had cooked also.
+
+To make up for this accident, all four of the Cottagers had contributed
+all they could find of their own cast-off garments; but these of course
+were much too large without considerable making over.
+
+"If," said Jean, reproachfully, as she took a large tuck in the
+grown-up stocking that she was trying to re-model for Rosa Marie,
+"you'd only let me tell my mother, she'd give us every blessed thing
+we need. One live little Indian in the hand ought to be worth more to
+her than a whole dozen invisible ones on a way-off Reservation; and you
+know she's always doing things for _them_."
+
+"Jeanie Mapes!" threatened Mabel, "if you tell her, that's the very
+last breath I'll ever speak to you."
+
+"I'll be good," sighed Jean, "but I just hate _not_ telling her. And
+this horrid stocking is _still_ too long."
+
+"Button it about her neck," giggled Marjory, who flatly declined to do
+any sewing for Rosa Marie. "That'll take up the slack and save making
+her a shirt."
+
+"Don't bother about stockings," said Bettie, fishing a round lump from
+her blouse. "Here's a pair of old ones that I found in the rag bag.
+One's black and the other's tan; but they're exactly the right size and
+that's _something_."
+
+"What's the use," demurred Marjory. "She won't wear them."
+
+"If Rosa Marie were about eight shades slimmer," said Jean, "I could
+easily get some of Anne Halliday's dear little dresses--her mother gave
+my mother a lot day before yesterday for that Reservation box; but
+goodness! You'd have to sew two of them together sideways to get them
+around _that_ child."
+
+"She _is_ awfully thick," admitted Mabel.
+
+Yet, after all, dressing Rosa Marie was not exactly a hardship. Indeed,
+it is probable that the difficulties that stood in the way made the
+task only so much the more interesting; then, of course, dressing a
+real child was much more exciting than making garments for a mere doll.
+
+Whenever the Cottagers spoke of Rosa Marie outside the Cottage they
+referred to her as the D. S. D. S. stood for "Dark Secret." This seemed
+singularly appropriate, for Rosa Marie was certainly dark and quite as
+certainly a most tremendous secret--a far larger and darker secret than
+the troubled girls cared to keep, but there seemed to be no immediate
+way out of it.
+
+Fortunately, the stolid little "D. S." was amiable to an astonishing
+degree. She never cried. Also, she "stayed put." If Mabel stood her in
+the corner she stayed there. If she were tucked into bed, there she
+remained until some one dragged her out. She spent her days rolling
+contentedly about the Cottage floor, her nights in deep, calm slumber.
+Never was there a youngster with fewer wants. Teaching Rosa Marie to
+talk furnished the Cottagers with great amusement. The round brown
+damsel very evidently preferred grunts to words; but she was always
+willing to grunt obligingly when Mabel or the others insisted.
+
+"Say, 'This little pig went to market,'" Mabel would prompt.
+
+"Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, _ee_, hee!" Rosa Marie would grunt.
+
+Then, when everybody else laughed her very hardest, Rosa Marie's grim
+little mouth would relax to show for an instant the row of white teeth
+that Mabel scrubbed industriously many times a day. This rare smile
+made the borrowed baby almost attractive. But not to Marjory. From the
+first, Marjory regarded her with strong disapproval.
+
+Fortunately for Mabel's secret, little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte
+twins and the two Tucker babies were too small to tell tales out of
+school, so in spite of sundry narrow escapes, Rosa Marie remained as
+dark a secret as one's heart could desire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+Discovery
+
+
+SCHOOL began the first day of October--fortunately, repairs to the
+building had delayed the opening. And there was Rosa Marie still on the
+Cottagers' hands, still a dark and undivulged secret. In the meantime,
+Mabel had paid many a visit to Mrs. Malony, who for reasons of her own
+had kept silence about the borrowed baby. Probably she felt that Mrs.
+Bennett would blame her for advising Mabel to harbor the deserted child.
+
+"No, darlint," Mrs. Malony would say, encouragingly. "Oi ain't exactly
+_seen_ her, but she'll be back prisintly, she'll be back prisintly--Oh,
+most anny toime, now. Just do be waitin' patient and you'll see me
+come walkin' in most anny foine day wid yon blackhaired lass at me
+heels an' full to the eyes of her wid gratichude. Anny day at all, Miss
+Mabel."
+
+Buoyed by this hope, Mabel had waited from day to day, hoping for
+speedy deliverance. And now, school!
+
+"We'll just have to get excused for part of each day," said Marjory,
+always good at suggesting remedies. "Last year, all my recitations came
+in the morning; perhaps they will again. Then, if one of you others
+could do all your reciting during the afternoon we could manage it."
+
+The year previously Mabel had been obliged to spend many a half-hour
+after school, making up neglected lessons. Now, however, she studied
+furiously. If she failed frequently it was only because she couldn't
+help making absurd blunders; it was never for lack of study. In this
+one way, at least, Rosa Marie proved beneficial.
+
+The united efforts of all four made it possible for Rosa Marie to
+possess a more or less unwilling guardian for all but one hour during
+the forenoon. It grieves one to confess it, but Rosa Marie spent that
+solitary hour securely strapped to the leg of the dining-room table;
+but, stolid as ever, she did not mind that.
+
+It was there that Aunty Jane discovered her, the second week in
+October. Aunty Jane had missed her best saucepan. Rightly suspecting
+that Marjory had carried it off to make fudge in, she hurried to the
+Cottage, discovered the key under the door-mat, opened the door and
+walked in.
+
+Rosa Marie was grunting. "Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, _ee_, hee!" to her
+own bare brown toes.
+
+"For mercy's sake! What's that?" gasped Aunty Jane, with a terrified
+start. "There's some sort of an animal in this house."
+
+Arming herself with the broken umbrella that stood in the mended
+umbrella jar in the front hall, Aunty Jane peered cautiously into
+the dining-room. The "animal" turned its head to blink with mild,
+expressionless curiosity at Aunty Jane.
+
+"My soul!" ejaculated that good lady, "what are you, anyway?"
+
+The pair blinked at each other for several moments.
+
+"Are--are you a _baby_?" demanded Aunty Jane.
+
+No response from Rosa Marie.
+
+"What," asked Aunty Jane, cautiously drawing closer, "is your name?"
+
+Still no response.
+
+"Who tied you to that table?"
+
+Silence on Rosa Marie's part.
+
+"I'm going straight after Mrs. Mapes," declared Aunty Jane, retreating
+backwards in order to keep a watchful eye on the queer object under the
+table. "I might have known that those enterprising youngsters would be
+up to _something_, if I gave my whole mind to pickles."
+
+Excited Aunty Jane collected not only Mrs. Mapes, but Mrs. Tucker and
+Mrs. Bennett, before she returned to the Cottage. And then, the three
+mothers and Aunty Jane sat on the floor beside Rosa Marie and asked
+questions; useless questions, because Rosa Marie licked the table-leg
+bashfully but yielded no other reply.
+
+This lasted for nearly half an hour. And then, school being out and the
+four Cottagers discovering their front door wide open, Jean, Bettie,
+Marjory and Mabel, all sorts of emotions tugging at their hearts,
+rushed breathlessly in. On beholding their mothers and Aunty Jane,
+they, too, turned suddenly bashful and leaned, speechless, against the
+Cottage wall.
+
+"Whose child is that?" demanded all four of the grown-ups, in concert.
+
+"Mine," replied Mabel.
+
+"Mabel's," responded the other three, with disheartening promptness.
+
+"What!" gasped the parents and Aunty Jane.
+
+"I borrowed her," explained Mabel, "so she's _mostly_ mine."
+
+"She's spending the day here, I suppose," said Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"Ye-es," faltered Mabel. Marjory giggled, and Mabel turned crimson.
+
+"I hope," said Mrs. Bennett, severely, "that you're not thinking of
+keeping her all night."
+
+"I--I--we--" faltered Mabel, "we--we sort of did."
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennett, not knowing how very late she was, "I
+guess we've come just in time. Mabel, put that child's things on and
+take her home at once."
+
+"I can't," replied Mabel.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"She hasn't any home."
+
+"No home!"
+
+"No. It's--it's run away."
+
+"What! That baby?"
+
+"No," stammered Mabel, "that baby's home. Not--not the house. Just her
+mother. She--she--Oh, she'll be back, _some_ day."
+
+"Mabel Bennett!" demanded Mrs. Bennett, suspecting something of the
+truth, "how long have you had that child here?"
+
+"Not--Oh, not so _very_ long," evaded Mabel.
+
+"Mabel," demanded her mother, "tell me, instantly, exactly how long?"
+
+"About--yes, just about five weeks."
+
+"Five weeks!" gasped Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Five _weeks_!" shrieked Mrs. Tucker.
+
+"Five weeks!" groaned Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"Fi--ve weeks!" cried Aunty Jane.
+
+"It'll be five to-morrow," said Bettie.
+
+"No, the day after," corrected Marjory.
+
+For the next few moments the mothers and Aunty Jane were too astounded
+for further speech. The girls, too, had nothing to say. All four of the
+Cottagers kept their eyes on the floor, for they knew precisely what
+their elders were thinking.
+
+"Jean," began Mrs. Mapes, reproachfully.
+
+"I--I _wanted_ to tell," stammered Jean.
+
+"I wouldn't let her," defended Mabel, looking up. "They _all_ wanted to
+tell, but I wouldn't let them. Truly, they did, Mrs. Mapes."
+
+"But five whole weeks!" murmured Mrs. Bennett. "I wonder that you were
+able to keep the secret so long. Why! I've been over here half a dozen
+times at least to ask for my scissors and other things that Mabel has
+carried off."
+
+"So have I," said Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"So have I," echoed Mrs. Tucker.
+
+"And so have I," added Aunty Jane, "and I've never heard a sound from
+that remarkable child."
+
+"You see," confessed Bettie, flushing guiltily, "we kept the door
+locked. Whenever we saw anybody coming we whisked Rosa Marie into the
+spare-room closet."
+
+"If Rosa Marie had been an ordinary child," explained Jean, "she would
+probably have howled; but you see, every blessed thing about us was so
+new and strange to her that she just thought that everything we did was
+all right. And anyhow, she doesn't have the same sort of feelings that
+Anne Halliday does. Anne would have cried."
+
+"You naughty, naughty children," scolded Mrs. Mapes, "to keep a secret
+like that for five whole weeks."
+
+"But, Mother," protested Jean, gently, "we never supposed it was going
+to be a five-weeks-long secret. We didn't _want_ it to be. We've been
+expecting her horrid mother to turn up every single minute since Rosa
+Marie came."
+
+"It was all my fault," declared loyal Mabel. "_They'd_ have told, the
+very first minute, if it hadn't been for me. Blame me for everything."
+
+"What," asked Mrs. Bennett, "do you intend to do with that--that
+atrocious child?"
+
+"She _isn't_ atrocious!" blazed Mabel, with sudden fire. "She's a
+perfect darling, when you get used to her, and I _love_ her. She isn't
+so very pretty, I know, but she's just dear. She's good, and that--and
+that's--Why! You've said, yourself, that it was better to be good than
+beautiful."
+
+"But what do you intend to do with her?" persisted Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Keep her," said Mabel, firmly. "She doesn't eat anything much but milk
+and sample packages."
+
+"You can't. I won't have her in my house. Why! Her parents are probably
+dreadful people."
+
+"That's why she ought to have me for a mother and you for a
+grandmother," pleaded Mabel, earnestly. "But if you don't like her,
+I'll keep her here."
+
+"But you can't, Mabel. It's so cold that there ought to be a fire here
+this minute, and you can't possibly leave a child alone with a fire."
+
+"Couldn't _you_ take her, Mrs. Mapes?" pleaded Mabel.
+
+"No, I'm afraid I couldn't. If she were the least bit lovable----"
+
+"Oh, she _is_----"
+
+"Not to me," returned Mrs. Mapes, firmly.
+
+"Wouldn't _you_ take her, Mrs. Tucker?"
+
+"What! With all the family I have now? I couldn't think of such a
+thing."
+
+"Then you," begged Mabel, turning to Aunty Jane. "There's only you and
+Marjory in that great big house. Oh, _do_ take her."
+
+"Mercy! I'd just as soon undertake to board a live bear! Why! Nobody
+wants a child of _that_ sort around. She's as homely----"
+
+"I'm extremely glad," said Mabel, with much dignity and a great deal of
+emphasis, "that _my_ child doesn't understand grown-up English."
+
+"Perhaps," said Mrs. Mapes, smiling with sympathetic understanding,
+"we four older people had better talk this matter over by ourselves.
+Suppose you walk home with me.
+
+"_I_ think," said Aunty Jane, forgetting all about the saucepan that
+had led her to the Cottage, "that the orphan asylum is the place for
+that unspeakable child."
+
+"Yes," agreed Mrs. Bennett, "she'll certainly have to go to the
+asylum."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+The Fugitive Soldier
+
+
+THE Cottage door closed behind the three excited parents and Aunty
+Jane. The four Cottagers, all decidedly pale and subdued, looked at one
+another in silence. It is one thing to confess a fault; it is quite
+another to be ignominiously found out. Jean and Bettie and Marjory
+were feeling this very keenly; but Mabel was far more troubled at the
+prospect of losing Rosa Marie.
+
+"The orphan asylum!" breathed Bettie, at length.
+
+"It's wicked," blazed Mabel, "to make an orphan of a person that isn't."
+
+"I've heard," said Marjory, reflectively, "that orphans have to eat
+fried liver."
+
+"Horrors!" gasped Mabel.
+
+"And codfish."
+
+"Oh _horrors_!" moaned Mabel, who detested both liver and codfish.
+
+"And prunes," pursued teasing Marjory, wickedly remembering Mabel's
+dislike for that wholesome but insipid fruit. The prunes proved
+entirely too much for Mabel.
+
+"Pup--pup--prunes!" she sobbed. "And you stand there and don't do a
+thing to save her! I guess if I were Eliza escaping with my baby on
+cakes of ice----"
+
+"Rosa Marie's about the right color," giggled Marjory, who could not
+resist so fine an opportunity to tease excitable Mabel.
+
+"You'd all be glad enough to help, but when it's just me----"
+
+"Oh, we'll help," soothed Jean, slipping an arm about Mabel. "You know
+we always do stand by you."
+
+"Yes, we'll all help," promised Bettie, "if you'll just tell us what to
+do. Only _please_ don't get us into any more trouble with our mothers."
+
+"There's the cellar," suggested Mabel, doubtfully, yet with
+glimmerings of hope. "I read a story once about a lady who sat on a
+cellar door, knitting stockings."
+
+"Why in the world," demanded Marjory, "did she sit on the door?"
+
+"Some soldiers were hunting for an escaped prisoner and she had him
+hidden there."
+
+"Was the cellar all horrid with old papers and rats and mice and
+spiders and crawly things with legs?" asked Bettie, with interest.
+
+"I hope not," shuddered Mabel, "but a soldier wouldn't mind. Dear me, I
+wish we'd cleaned that cellar when we first came into the Cottage. If
+we had, it'd be just the place to hide Rosa Marie in."
+
+"Perhaps it isn't too late, now," said Marjory, stooping to loosen the
+ring in the kitchen floor. "Let's look down there, anyway."
+
+"Let's," agreed Bettie. "It'll be something to do, at least."
+
+Everybody helped with the door. When it was open and propped against
+the kitchen stove, the four girls crouched down to peer into the depths
+below. Even Rosa Marie, who had been released from the table-leg, crept
+to the edge to look.
+
+They were not very deep depths. The place was filled with rubbish,
+mostly old papers and broken pasteboard boxes; but it was perfectly
+dry, and clean except for a thick layer of dust.
+
+"Let's clean it out," said Mabel, recklessly grasping an armful of
+dusty papers and dragging them forth.
+
+"Phew!" exclaimed Jean, tumbling back from the hole. "Er--er--er hash!"
+
+"Oh, ki--_hash_! Hoo!" blubbered Bettie, likewise tumbling backwards.
+
+"Who-is-she, who-is-she," sneezed Marjory.
+
+"Kerchoo, kerchoo, kerchoo!" sneezed Rosa Marie, her head bobbing with
+each sneeze. "Kerchoo, kerchoo!"
+
+"It's pepper," explained Mabel, when she had finished _her_ sneeze. "I
+spilled a lot of it the day of Mr. Black's dinner party. I didn't know
+what else to do with it, so I swept it down that biggest crack."
+
+"Goodness! What a housekeeper!" rebuked Jean, wiping her eyes.
+
+"It's good for moths," consoled Bettie. "At any rate, Rosa Marie won't
+get moth-eaten."
+
+"Perhaps," suggested Mabel, hopefully, "it's driven away all the rats
+and crawly things."
+
+Working more cautiously, the girls drew forth the yellowed papers and
+pasteboard left by some former untidy occupant of the Cottage. They
+burned most of the rubbish in the kitchen stove, Jean standing guard
+lest burning pieces should escape to set fire to the Cottage. The work
+of clearing the cellar, indeed, was precisely what the girls needed,
+after the humiliating events of the day. All four were growing more
+cheerful; but they worked as swiftly as they dared, for they felt
+certain that the cellar, as a place of concealment for Rosa Marie,
+would be speedily needed.
+
+The cellar proved to be a square hole about three feet deep. When
+Mabel, who for once was doing the lion's share of the work, had swept
+the boarded floor and sides perfectly clean, it was really a very tidy,
+inviting little shelter; as neat a shelter as fugitive soldier could
+desire.
+
+"Now," said Mabel, "we'll put a piece of carpet and an old quilt in the
+bottom, tack clean papers around the sides----"
+
+"Papers rattle," offered Marjory, sagely.
+
+"Then we'll use cloth," declared Mabel, snatching an apron from the
+hook behind the door. "We'll begin right away to practise with Rosa
+Marie, so she'll get used to it. Then we must rehearse our parts, too."
+
+The retreat ready, Rosa Marie went without a murmur into the
+underground babytender--Marjory gave it that name. Rosa Marie, at
+least, would do her part successfully. But it was different above
+ground.
+
+"Who," demanded Jean, "is to sit on the door and knit? _I_
+couldn't--I'd fly to pieces."
+
+"It's my child," said Mabel, "_I'm_ going to."
+
+"But," objected Marjory, "you _can't_ knit. You don't know how."
+
+"I can crochet," triumphed Mabel, "and I guess that's every bit as
+good."
+
+"Where," asked Bettie, "is your crochet hook?"
+
+But that, of course, was a question that Mabel could not answer,
+because Mabel never did know where any of her belongings were.
+Thereupon, Jean, Marjory and Mabel began a frantic search for the
+missing article. Mabel had used it the week previously; but could
+remember nothing more about it.
+
+"Goodness!" groaned Mabel, groveling under the spare-room bed in hopes
+that the hook might be there. "If I'd dreamed that my child's life was
+going to depend on that hook, I'd have kept it locked up in father's
+fire-proof safe."
+
+"That's what you get," said Marjory, with one eye glued to the top of a
+very tall vase, "for being so careless. It isn't in here, anyway."
+
+"Here's one," announced Bettie, scrambling in hastily and locking the
+door behind her. "I skipped home for it. But there's no time to lose.
+All our mothers and Aunty Jane are going out of Mrs. Mapes's gate with
+their best hats and gloves on. There's something doing!"
+
+In another moment, the cellar door was closed, a rocking chair was
+placed upon it, and Mabel, with ball of yarn and crochet hook in hand,
+was nervously twitching in the chair. Her fingers were stiff with
+dust--there had been no time to wash them--so the loop that she tied
+in the end of the white yarn was most decidedly black; but Mabel was
+thankful to achieve a loop of any color, with her whole body quivering
+with excitement and suspense.
+
+"Goodness!" she quavered. "That soldier lady was a wonder! Think of
+her looking calm outside with her heart going like a Dover egg-beater.
+Do--do _I_ look calm?"
+
+"Here," said Bettie, extending a basin of warm water. "Soak your hands
+in this. Warm water is said to be soothing."
+
+"Also cleansing," giggled Marjory.
+
+"Hurry!" gasped quick-eared Jean, snatching the basin and hurling a
+towel in Mabel's direction. "I heard our gate click. There's somebody
+coming."
+
+"Don't let 'em in," breathed Mabel, defiantly.
+
+"I'm afraid," said Jean, "we'll have to."
+
+"Anyway," soothed Bettie, "we'll peek first--there's the door-bell!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A Surprise
+
+
+JEAN and Bettie flew to one window, Marjory to the other. Mabel wanted
+to fly, too, but she remained faithfully at her post, feeling quite
+cheered by her own heroism.
+
+"It's dark gray trousers with a crease in 'em; not skirts," announced
+Marjory, peering under the edge of the shade.
+
+"Probably a man from the asylum," shuddered Bettie. "Let's keep very
+still. He may think that this is the wrong house and go somewhere else."
+
+"But," objected Jean, "he'll only come back again."
+
+"Yes," sighed Bettie. "I s'pose we will have to open the door. You do
+it, Marjory."
+
+"I don't want to," returned Marjory, unexpectedly shrinking. "It seems
+too much like giving Rosa Marie into the hands of the enemy. After
+all, we're going to miss her dreadfully and Mabel'll be just about
+broken-hearted. She _does_ get so attached to things--Oh! He's ringing
+again."
+
+"We'll have to unlock the door," sighed Jean, placing her hand on the
+key, "but dearie me, I feel just as Marjory does about it. Knit fast,
+Mabel."
+
+The key turned in the lock, but the girls did not need to open the
+door; the visitor did that. Then there were rapturous cries of "Mr.
+Black! Mr. Black!"
+
+Mabel wanted to greet Mr. Black, too, for there was nobody in the world
+that was kinder to little girls than the stout gentleman who had just
+opened their door; but she remembered that the soldier lady (in spite
+of the Dover egg-beater heart) had remained seated, placidly knitting;
+so Mabel likewise sat still and plied her crochet hook.
+
+"Hi, hi!" exclaimed Mr. Black. "What are you all locked in for? And
+here I had to ring four times when I came with a present--apples right
+off the top of my own barrel. Began to be afraid I'd have to eat them
+all myself, you were so long letting me in."
+
+"If we'd guessed that it was you and apples," said Marjory, "we'd have
+met you at the gate."
+
+"Where's the other girl?" asked Mr. Black's big, cheery voice. "Doesn't
+she like apples, too?"
+
+"In the kitchen," chorused Jean, Marjory and Bettie.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Black, striding kitchenward, "here she is,
+knitting like any old lady. Aren't you coming in here to eat apples
+with the rest of us?"
+
+"Can't," mumbled Mabel.
+
+"What's the matter, grandma?" teased Mr. Black. "Rheumatism troubling
+you to-day?"
+
+"Nope," returned Mabel.
+
+"Lost all your teeth?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Are you knitting me a pair of socks or is it mittens?"
+
+"Just a chain," replied Mabel, suddenly beaming. "But, Mr. Black, does
+it really look as if I were knitting?"
+
+"Precisely," smiled Mr. Black. "So much so that you remind me of the
+story of the woman who sat on the trap door and knitted--By Jove! That
+_is_ a trap door! Here's the ring sticking up."
+
+The girls shot a quick glance at the floor. Then they gazed guiltily at
+one another. Sure enough! The tell-tale ring stood upright, ready for
+use. No one had thought to conceal it.
+
+"Is there a wounded soldier down there?" asked Mr. Black, jokingly.
+
+"No!" shouted all four with suspicious haste.
+
+The deep silence that followed was suddenly punctuated by a muffled
+sneeze from Rosa Marie. Undoubtedly, some of the pepper dislodged from
+the crack in the floor had sifted down to the prisoner.
+
+The faces of the four girls flushed guiltily. Mr. Black looked
+wonderingly at the little group. It was plain that something was wrong.
+Jean, who had always met her friend's glance with level, truthful eyes,
+was now looking most sheepishly at her own toes. Bettie, hitherto
+always ready to tell the whole truth, was now fiddling evasively with
+the corner of her apron. Marjory's fair skin was crimson; her usually
+frank blue eyes were intent on something under the kitchen table.
+
+"Is there some sort of an animal in that cellar?" demanded Mr. Black.
+
+Rosa Marie chose this moment to give another large sneeze.
+
+"Is it something you're afraid of?" demanded Mr. Black.
+
+"'Fraid of losing," mumbled Mabel, shamefacedly. Poor Mabel realized
+only too well that she, with her knitting and her too-perfect playing
+of the part, had given the secret away; and she felt all the bitterness
+of failure.
+
+Seizing the back of Mabel's chair, Mr. Black drew it swiftly off the
+trap door. In another moment, he had the door open.
+
+Rosa Marie, blinking at the sudden light, bobbed upward. Mr. Black
+involuntarily started back from the opening.
+
+"What under heavens is that!" he gasped. "A monkey?"
+
+And, indeed, the error was a perfectly natural one, for all he had been
+able to see was a tousled head of hair, beneath which gleamed small
+black eyes.
+
+"I should say not!" blazed Mabel. "It's my little girl--my Rosa Marie."
+
+"Does she bite? Is she dangerous? Is that why you treat her like
+potatoes?"
+
+"Most certainly not," returned Mabel, with dignity. "She's an Indian."
+
+"Bless me!" said Mr. Black, leaning cautiously forward. "Let's have a
+look at her."
+
+Now that the secret was out, everybody eagerly clutched some portion of
+Rosa Marie's clothing. She was drawn, with some difficulty and sundry
+tearings of cloth, from the "Soldier's Retreat." Mabel cuddled the
+blinking small person in her lap.
+
+"Did you pick her up in the woods?" asked Mr. Black, "or did you simply
+kidnap her? Or, dreadful thought! Did you order her by number from some
+catalogue? And did they charge you full price?"
+
+Then Mabel, helped by the other three, told all that they knew of the
+history of Rosa Marie; and of Mabel's affection for the queer brown
+baby. They told him everything. Mabel, with visions of the orphan
+asylum's doors yawning to engulf precious Rosa Marie, considered it
+a very sad story. She felt grieved and indignant because Mr. Black,
+instead of sympathizing, laughed until his sides shook. Even the
+pathetic diet of liver, codfish and prunes seemed to amuse him.
+
+"What would you have said if your mothers had asked you where this
+child was?" inquired Mr. Black presently. "I mean, when you had her
+down cellar?"
+
+Jean looked at Bettie, Bettie looked at Marjory, Marjory looked at
+Mabel.
+
+"We never thought of that," confessed Bettie.
+
+"Oh," groaned Mabel, holding Rosa Marie closer, "our plan isn't any
+good after all. We'd have to tell the truth if they asked; we always
+do."
+
+"Yes," said Jean, "they'd get it out of us at once."
+
+"Even," teased Marjory, shrewdly, "if Mabel, sitting upon that trap
+door, were not every bit as good as a printed sign."
+
+"Never mind," soothed Jean, slipping an arm about Mabel's shoulders,
+"we'd rather be honest than smart, since we can't be both."
+
+Mabel needed soothing. She sat still and made no sound; but large
+tears were rolling down her cheeks and splashing on Rosa Marie's
+black head. Mr. Black regarded them thoughtfully. He noticed too that
+Mabel's moderately white hand was closed tightly over Rosa Marie's
+brown fingers. It reminded him, some way, of his own youthful agony
+over parting with a puppy that he had not been allowed to keep--he had
+always regretted that puppy.
+
+Suddenly the front door, propelled by some unseen force, opened from
+without to admit the three mothers and Aunty Jane, followed closely by
+Mr. Tucker, Dr. Bennett and two young women in nurses' uniform. They
+crowded into the little parlor and filled it to overflowing. None of
+the Cottagers said a word; but Mabel, tears still rolling down her
+cheeks, silently clasped both arms tightly about Rosa Marie's body. It
+began to look as if Rosa Marie would have to be taken by force.
+
+"It's all arranged," announced Mrs. Bennett, breathlessly. "The asylum
+is willing to take her and she is to go at once with these young
+ladies. Come, Mabel, don't be foolish. Take your arms away. You're
+behaving very badly--There, there, I'll buy you something."
+
+"You're just a little too late," said Mr. Black, keeping watchful
+eyes on Mabel's speaking countenance. "I've decided to take the
+responsibility of Rosa Marie into my own hands."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Breaking the News
+
+
+WHEN Mr. Black went home that afternoon to explain the matter to
+his good sister, Mrs. Crane, he took with him not only Rosa Marie,
+but Jean, Marjory, Bettie and Mabel, whose parents had given them
+permission to escort the brown baby to her new home.
+
+"You see," said he, while waiting for Rosa Marie to be made somewhat
+more attractive, "I want you to tell the story to Mrs. Crane, precisely
+as you told it to me. But don't mention _me_ until you get to the very
+end."
+
+With her hair brushed and braided and her fat little body stuffed into
+a pink gingham apron that the Cottagers had laboriously cut down from
+a wrapper of Mrs. Halliday's, Rosa Marie looked her best, in spite of
+the fact that she wore no shoes and stockings. She trotted contentedly
+at Mabel's side; but Bettie, who was supposed to be walking with Mr.
+Black, pranced delightedly about him in circles, to show her gratitude.
+Jean and Marjory followed more sedately but with beaming countenances.
+
+Now that Mrs. Crane was no longer poor, she was always dressed very
+neatly in black silk. Except for that she was precisely the same jolly,
+good-natured woman that she had been when she lived alone in the little
+house just across the street from Dandelion Cottage. Now, however, she
+lived with her brother, Mr. Black, in his big, imposing, but rather
+gloomy house. She had no husband, he had no wife and neither had any
+children. Perhaps that is why they were both so fond of the Dandelion
+Cottagers.
+
+Mrs. Crane was planting bulbs in the garden when Mr. Black ushered his
+procession in at the gate.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said she, "here you are just in time to help. I
+always said that if ever I got a chance to plant all the tulip bulbs I
+wanted, I'd die of pure happiness; but I guess I stand _more_ chance
+of dying of a broken back. My land! I've planted two thousand three
+hundred and forty-eight of the best-looking bulbs I ever laid eyes
+on, and there ain't a hole in those boxes yet. They're all named,
+too. Here's Rachel Ruish, Rose Grisdelin, Rosy Mundi, Yellow Prince,
+the Duke of York--think of having _him_ in your front yard--and Lady
+Grandison, two inches apart, clear to the gate. But land! I suppose a
+body's tongue'd go lame counting _diamonds_."
+
+"Why don't you let Martin plant them?" asked Mr. Black, with a twinkle
+in his eye. It was plain that he enjoyed his talkative elderly sister.
+
+"And have them all bloom in China?" retorted Mrs. Crane. "Now you know,
+Peter, that Martin couldn't get a bulb right end up if there were
+printed directions on the skin of every bulb. But Jean there, and
+Bettie----"
+
+"We'll do it," cried the girls. "Just tell us how."
+
+"Two inches apart, pointed end up, all the way along those little
+trenches," directed Mrs. Crane, seating herself in the wheelbarrow.
+"No, not _you_, Mabel. You and Martin--Well, I won't _say_ it. Why!
+What's the matter with your face? Looks to me as if you'd dusted the
+coal bin with yourself and then cried about it. What's the trouble?"
+
+Thereupon Mabel introduced Rosa Marie, who had been shyly hiding behind
+a rosebush, told her story and graphically described the horrors of the
+orphan asylum.
+
+"While I don't believe that any orphan asylum is as black as you've
+painted that one," said Mrs. Crane, "it does seem a pity to shut a
+little outdoor animal like that up in a cage when she ain't used to it.
+Now, Peter, you listen to me. Why couldn't _we_ keep Rosa Marie here
+for a time. Like enough, her mother'll be back after her most any day.
+In the meantime, she'd be more company than a cat and easier to wash
+than a poodle."
+
+"Well now, I don't know," returned Mr. Black, winking at Mabel. "A
+child is a great deal of trouble."
+
+"Shame on you, Peter Black. It's only yesterday that you bought a
+wretched old horse to keep his owner from ill-treating him; and here
+you are refusing----"
+
+"Oh, not exactly refusing----"
+
+"Begrudging, anyway, to rescue that innocent lamb----"
+
+"She means black sheep," whispered Marjory, into Jean's convenient ear.
+
+"From that institution. Peter Black! I'm just going to keep that child,
+anyway."
+
+At this, all five laughed merrily. Rosa Marie, cheered by the sound,
+reached gravely into a paper bag, gravely handed each person a tulip
+bulb and appropriated one herself. She took a generous bite out of
+hers.
+
+"We'll plant 'em in a ring around that snowball bush," said Mrs. Crane,
+rescuing the bitten bulb, bite and all. "That shall be Rosa Marie's own
+flower bed."
+
+"There's a nursery on the second floor," said Mr. Black. "You girls
+must help us fix it up. And, Mabel, perhaps _you_ would like to spend
+this money for some toys that would just exactly suit Rosa Marie."
+
+Mabel beamed gratefully as she accepted the money and the
+responsibility. Never before had any one singled her out to perform
+a task that required discretion. It was always Jean, or Bettie, or
+sometimes even Marjory that was chosen. Never before had greatness
+been thrust upon Mabel. She lavished grateful, affectionate glances on
+Mr. Black and inwardly determined to save part of the cash with which
+to buy him a Christmas present, not realizing that that would be a
+misappropriation of funds.
+
+Mabel, however, felt a pang of jealousy when Rosa Marie, digging
+contentedly in the sand at Mrs. Crane's feet, allowed her former
+guardian to depart absolutely unnoticed.
+
+"I _did_ think," confided Mabel to Bettie, who walked beside her, "that
+she'd at least _look_ as if she cared."
+
+That night the mothers made peace with their daughters, and Aunty Jane
+extended a flag of truce to Marjory.
+
+"It was all for your own good," explained Mrs. Bennett, her arm about
+Mabel, who was missing the pleasant task of putting Rosa Marie to bed.
+"I couldn't let you grow up with a little Indian continually at your
+heels. You'd have grown tired of her, too. And by keeping silence so
+long, you did a great deal of harm. If we'd known about the matter at
+once, we might have been able to find her mother. Now it's too late."
+
+"I never thought of that," said Mabel, contritely. "I'll tell right
+away, next time."
+
+"Mabel! There mustn't _be_ a next time. Promise me this instant that
+you'll never borrow another baby unless you know that its mother really
+wants to keep it. Promise."
+
+"All right, I promise," said Mabel, cheerfully.
+
+"But I _can't_ think," remarked Mrs. Bennett, "what possessed Mr. Black
+to be so foolish as to take such a child into his own home."
+
+There were other persons that wondered, too, why Mr. Black should
+burden his household with the care of what Martin, his man, called
+an uncivilized savage; but the truth of the matter was just this.
+The large silent tears rolling down Mabel's forlorn countenance had
+suddenly proved too much for the tender heart of Mr. Black. In some
+ways, perhaps, impulsive Mr. Black was not a wise man; but, where
+children were concerned, there was no doubt of his being an exceedingly
+tender person.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+The Alarm
+
+
+NOW that the burden of caring for Rosa Marie was shifted to older and
+more competent shoulders, the Cottagers' thoughts returned to their
+school-work. It was time. Never had lessons been so neglected. Never
+before had four moderately intelligent little girls seemed so stupid.
+But of course with their minds filled with Rosa Marie, it had been
+impossible to keep the rivers of South America from lightmindedly
+running over into Asia, or the products of British Columbia from being
+exported from Calcutta.
+
+These fortunate girls attended a beautiful school. That is, the
+building was beautiful. It stood right in the middle of a great big
+grassy block, entirely surrounded, as Bettie put it, by street, which
+of course added greatly to its dignity. It was built of "raindrop"
+sandstone, a most interesting building material because no two blocks
+were alike and also because each stone looked as if it had just been
+sprinkled with big, spattering drops of rain. It was hard when looking
+at it to believe that it wasn't raining, and certain naughty youngsters
+delighted in fooling new teachers by pointing out the deceiving drops
+that flecked the balustrade. Perhaps even the grass was fooled by this
+semblance to showers for, in summer time, it grew so thriftily that
+no one had to be warned to "Keep off," so a great many little people
+frolicked in the schoolyard even during vacation.
+
+Of course the Dandelion Cottagers were not in the same classes in
+school. Jean, being the oldest, the most sedate and the most studious,
+was almost through the eighth grade. Marjory, being naturally very
+bright and also moderately industrious, was in the seventh. Mabel and
+Bettie were not exactly anywhere. You see, Bettie had had to stay out
+so often to keep the next to the youngest Tucker baby from falling
+downstairs, that naturally she had dropped behind all the classes that
+she had ever started with; and Mabel--of course Mabel _meant_ well,
+but when she studied at all it was usually the lesson for some other
+day; for this blundering maiden never _could_ remember which was the
+right page. But one day she happened by some lucky accident to stumble
+upon the right one, and on that solitary occasion she recited so very
+brilliantly that Miss Bonner and all the pupils dropped their books to
+listen in astonishment, and Mabel was marked one hundred.
+
+But in spite of this high mark in good black ink (if one stood less
+than seventy-five red ink was employed) the thing did not happen
+again that fall because Mabel was too busy bringing up Rosa Marie to
+study even the wrong lesson. However, she was exceedingly fond of
+pretty Miss Bonner and, having learned the exact date of that young
+woman's birthday, hoped to appease her by a gift to be paid for by
+contributions from all the pupils in Miss Bonner's room. Mabel herself
+received and cared for the slowly accumulating funds, and the little
+brown purse was becoming almost as weighty a responsibility as Rosa
+Marie had been. Sometimes it rested in Mabel's untrustworthy pocket,
+sometimes in her rather untidy desk, sometimes under her pillow in her
+own room at home. One day Mrs. Bennett found it there.
+
+"Why, Mabel!" she exclaimed. "Where did all this money come from? I
+know _you_ don't possess any."
+
+"It's the M. B. B. P. F.," responded Mabel, who was brushing her hair
+with evident enjoyment and two very handsome military brushes. "I guess
+I'd better put it in my pocket."
+
+"The what?" asked puzzled Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"The Miss Bonner Birthday Present Fund. I'm the Cus--Cus--Custodium."
+
+"The what kind of cuss?" asked Dr. Bennett, who had just poked his head
+in at the door to ask if, by any chance, Mabel had seen anything of his
+hair brushes.
+
+"The Custodium," replied Mabel, with dignity.
+
+"I think she means 'Custodian.'" explained Mrs. Bennett, rescuing the
+brushes.
+
+"Well," retorted Mabel, "the toad part was all right if the tail
+wasn't. Marjory named me that, and she's always using bigger words than
+she ought to."
+
+"So is somebody else," said Dr. Bennett, forgetting to scold about the
+brushes. "But I think the 'Custodium' had better hurry, or she'll be
+late for school."
+
+That was Friday, and the little brown purse contained two dollars and
+forty-seven cents, which seemed a tremendous sum to inexperienced Mabel.
+
+She remembered afterwards how very big, imposing and substantial
+the school building had looked that morning as she approached it and
+noticed some strangers fingering the "rain-drops" to see if they
+were real. Indeed, everybody, from the largest tax-payer down to the
+smallest pupil, was proud of that building because it was so big and
+because there was no more rain-drop sandstone left in the quarry from
+which it had been taken. Even thoughtless Mabel always swelled with
+pride when tourists paused to comment on the queer, spotted appearance
+of those massive walls. She meant to point that building out some day
+to her grandchildren as the fount of all her learning; for the huge,
+solid building looked as if it would certainly outlast not only Mabel's
+grandchildren but all their great-great-grandchildren as well. But it
+didn't.
+
+The catastrophe came on Saturday. Afterwards, everybody in Lakeville
+was glad, since the thing had to happen at all, that the day was
+Saturday, for no one liked to think what might have happened had the
+trouble come on a schoolday. It was also a Saturday in the first week
+of November, which was not quite so fortunate, as there was a stiff
+north wind.
+
+At two o'clock that afternoon the streets were almost deserted, but
+weatherproof Dick Tucker, with his hands in his pockets, was going
+along whistling at the top of his very good lungs. By the merest
+chance he glanced at the wide windows of Lakeville's most pretentious
+possession, the big Public School building.
+
+From four of the upper windows floated thin, softly curling plumes
+of gray smoke. The windows were closed, but the smoke appeared to be
+leaking out from the surrounding frames.
+
+"Hello!" muttered Dick, suddenly shutting off his whistle. "That looks
+like smoke. The janitor must be rebuilding the furnace fire. But why
+should smoke--I guess I'll investigate."
+
+The puzzled boy ran up the steps, pulled the vestibule door open and
+eagerly pressed his nose against the plate-glass panel of the inner
+door, which was locked. Through the glass, however, he could plainly
+see that the wide corridor was thick with smoke. He could even smell it.
+
+"Great guns!" exclaimed Dick. "There's things doing in there! That
+furnace never smokes as hard as all that and besides the Janitor always
+has Saturday afternoons off. Perhaps the basement door is unlocked."
+
+Dick ran down the steps to find that door, too, securely fastened.
+
+"I guess," said Dick, with another look at the curling smoke about the
+upper windows, "the thing for me to do is to turn in an alarm."
+
+Dick happened to know where the alarm-box was situated, so, feeling
+most important, yet withal strangely shaky as to legs, the lad made for
+the corner, a good long block distant, smashed the glass according to
+directions, and sent in the alarm, a thing that he had always longed to
+do.
+
+Five minutes later, the big red hosecart, with gong ringing, firemen
+shouting and dogs barking, was dashing up the street. The hook and
+ladder company followed and a meat wagon, or rather a meat-wagon horse,
+galloped after. The foundry whistle began to give the ward number in
+long, melancholy, terrifying toots and the hosehouse bell joined in
+with a mad clamor. People poured from the houses along the hosecart's
+route, for in Lakeville it was customary for private citizens to attend
+all fires.
+
+Dick, feeling most important, stood on the schoolhouse steps and
+pointed upward. The hosecart stopped with a jerk that must have
+surprised the horses, firemen leaped down and in a twinkling the
+foremost had smashed in the big glass door.
+
+"It's a fire all right," said he.
+
+Meanwhile the Janitor, chopping wood in his own backyard (which was his
+way of enjoying his afternoons off), had listened intently to the fire
+alarm.
+
+"Six-Two," said he, suddenly dropping his ax. "Guess I'll have a look
+at that fire. That's pretty close to my school."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The Fire
+
+
+JEAN, Bettie, Marjory and Mabel ran with the rest to see what was
+happening, for their homes were not far from the schoolhouse. Indeed,
+owing to its ample setting, the building was plainly visible from
+all directions; and from a distance, it always loomed larger than
+anything else in the town. To all the citizens it was a most unusual
+and alarming sight to see thick, black smoke curling about the eaves
+and rising in a threatening column above the familiar building. Such a
+thing had never happened before.
+
+Marjory was the first of the quartette to discover what was going on.
+She had opened her bedroom window the better to count the strokes of
+the fire-bell when, to her astonishment, she saw the fire itself or at
+least the smoke thereof. Her first thought was of her three friends;
+for of course no Cottager could view such a spectacle as this promised
+to be without the companionship of the other three.
+
+So Marjory flew around the block--like a little excited hen, Dr. Tucker
+said--and collected the girls. They ran in a body to join the swelling
+crowd that surrounded the smoking building.
+
+"Keep back out of danger," called Aunty Jane, who was watching the fire
+from her upstairs window.
+
+"We will," shrieked Marjory, who, with the other three, was rushing by.
+
+"Don't get mixed up with the hose," warned Dr. Tucker, who was carrying
+young Peter to view the fire.
+
+"We won't," promised Bettie. "We'll stand on the very safest corner."
+
+"This is it," declared Jean, stopping short on the sidewalk. "We can
+see right over the heads of the folks that are close to the building."
+
+"Should you think," panted Mabel, hopefully, "that there'd be school
+Monday?"
+
+"Looks doubtful," said Marjory.
+
+"Not upstairs, anyway," returned Jean. "Everything must be smoked
+perfectly black. And it's getting worse every minute instead of better."
+
+"Goodness!" cried Mabel, suddenly turning pale at a new and alarming
+thought. "I do hope it won't burn _my_ room. The money for Miss
+Bonner's birthday present is in my desk. It's--it's a horrible lot of
+money to lose. I ought never to have left it there. Dear me! Do you
+think----"
+
+"Phew!" cried Jean, paying no heed to Mabel. "Look at that!"
+
+"That" was a terrifying flash of red that suddenly illumined six of the
+big upper windows.
+
+"The High School room," groaned Bettie. "It's--it's _flames_!"
+
+"Hang it!" growled an indignant tax-payer. "Why doesn't somebody _do_
+something? That building cost fifty thousand dollars."
+
+"Fire started from a defective flue on top floor," explained another
+bystander, "but that's no reason why the whole place should go. There's
+no fire downstairs, but there _will_ be--What's that? No water? Broken
+hydrant?"
+
+Mabel listened attentively. The bystander continued:
+
+"Then the whole building is doomed. It's had time enough to get a
+tremendous start."
+
+"Oh, look!" cried Jean. "It's bursting through into the next room--_my_
+room! Oh, how _dreadful_! All our plants, our books, our pictures--Oh,
+oh! I can't bear to look."
+
+Firemen and volunteer helpers were, hurrying in and out the wide
+south door. Men carried out towering piles of books and tossed them
+ruthlessly to the ground. Miss Bonner's big pink geranium was added to
+the heap. The Janitor appeared with the big hall clock, that wouldn't
+go at all on ordinary occasions but was now striking seven hundred and
+twenty-seven--or something like that--all at one stretch. It seemed to
+be crying out in alarm. The roar of flames could now be heard, likewise.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, wheeling suddenly. "Where's Mabel? Wasn't she
+right beside you a minute ago, Bettie? I certainly saw her there."
+
+"She was--but she isn't now," returned Bettie, looking about anxiously.
+"I thought she was behind me."
+
+"Dear me!" murmured motherly Jean. "I hope she hasn't gone any closer.
+Suppose the scallops on that roof should begin to melt off."
+
+"Oh, look!" cried Marjory. "There! In the doorway!"
+
+All three looked just in time to see a short, not-very-slender girl in
+an unmistakable red cap dart in at the smoky doorway.
+
+"Oh," groaned Jean, "it's Mabel!"
+
+"Oh," moaned Marjory, "why did I ever tell her that there was a fire?"
+
+"I'm afraid," hazarded Bettie, "that she's gone to Miss Bonner's room
+to get that money."
+
+Bettie was right. That was exactly what Mabel had done.
+
+All along Mabel's way hands had stretched out to stop the flying
+figure. But the hands were always just a little too late. You see, the
+owners of the tardy hands did not realize quickly enough that rash
+little Mabel actually meant to enter a building whose top floor was
+all in flames. She was fairly inside before the onlookers grasped the
+situation.
+
+"How perfectly foolish!" cried Marjory, stamping her foot in helpless
+rage. "Of course somebody'll get her out--there's two men going in
+now--but how perfectly silly for her to go in at all!"
+
+Mabel, however, was not feeling at all foolish. No, indeed. The little
+girl, to her own way of thinking, was doing a worthy, even a heroic,
+deed. She was rescuing the precious two dollars and forty-seven
+cents that her class had so laboriously raised to buy Miss Bonner
+a birthday gift. She would have liked to accomplish it in a little
+less spectacular manner, but, no other way being available, she had
+made the best of circumstances and was ignoring the crowd. She hoped,
+indeed, that no one had noticed her; with so much else to look at it
+seemed as if one small girl might easily remain unobserved. To be sure
+she was risking her life, the life of the only little girl that her
+parents possessed; but that seemed a small affair beside two dollars
+and forty-seven cents. The roof might fall, the cornice might drop, the
+huge chimney might collapse, the suffocating smoke or scorching flames
+might suddenly pour into that still unburned lower room. Let them!
+Heroes never stopped for such trifles with such a sum at stake.
+
+By this time, Jean, Marjory and Bettie were white and absolutely
+speechless with fear. Four firemen were sitting on Dr. Bennett to keep
+him from rushing in after the little girl he had promptly recognized as
+his own, and five women were supporting and encouraging Mrs. Bennett,
+who had grown too weak to stand although she still had her wits about
+her.
+
+"Fifty dollars reward," Mr. Black was shouting, "to the man that gets
+that child!"
+
+He would have gone after her himself, but Mrs. Crane had him firmly by
+the coat-tails and both Dr. and Mrs. Tucker were clinging to his arms.
+
+"Be aisy, be aisy," Mrs. Malony, the egg-woman was murmuring to the
+world in general. "Miss Mabel's the kind thot's always escapin' jist be
+the skin av her teeth. Rest aisy. Thim fire-laddies'll be havin' her
+out av thot dure in another jiffy."
+
+But, although the crowd rested as "aisy" as it could, the moments went
+by and no Mabel appeared.
+
+With every instant the fire grew worse. By this time, the smoke and
+angry sheets of flame had burst through the roof and were streaming,
+with a mighty, threatening roar, straight up into the blackened sky--a
+splendid sight that was visible for a long distance. There was no water
+to check the mighty fire, for, a very few moments after the hose had
+been attached, the hydrant had burst and the water that should have
+been busy quenching the fire was quietly drenching the feet of many an
+unheeding bystander.
+
+And presently the thing that everybody expected happened. With a
+lingering, horrible crash a large part of the upper floor dropped to
+the main hall below. Smoke poured from the lower doors and windows.
+In another moment leaping hungry flames were visible in every room
+except the basement. The entire superstructure seemed now just like a
+gigantic, topless furnace; and of course it was no longer possible for
+even the firemen to venture inside.
+
+But _where_ was Mabel?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A Heroine's Come-Down
+
+
+MABEL, with the Janitor and four pursuing firemen at her reckless
+heels, had made a bold dash through the long corridor that led to Miss
+Bonner's room. Owing to a strong upward draft, there was surprisingly
+little smoke in this corridor and none at all in Miss Bonner's distant
+corner.
+
+Still hotly pursued, Mabel, who had the advantage of knowing exactly
+whither she was bound, darted down the narrow aisle, reached into her
+desk, and, unselfishly passing by sundry dearly loved treasures of her
+own, seized the fat brown purse. Such joy to find it when so many of
+the desks had been stripped of their contents!
+
+She was none too soon, for the next moment the Janitor's hands had
+closed upon her and, plump as she was, the sturdy fellow easily
+carried her out of the room, although Mabel protested crossly that she
+would much rather walk. In this uncomfortable fashion they reached the
+corridor.
+
+[Illustration: THE STURDY FELLOW CARRIED HER OUT OF THE ROOM.]
+
+"Not that way--not that way!" shouted the firemen, pointing towards
+a glowing, spreading patch on the ceiling of the main hall. "It's
+breaking through--you can't reach the door! It's not safe at that end."
+
+"Down to the basement!" shouted the Janitor, nodding toward a narrow
+doorway, through which the men promptly vanished.
+
+Then, seemingly, a new thought assailed the Janitor.
+
+"Open door number twelve," he shouted after the men.
+
+Then, hurriedly pushing up a sliding door at the safest end of the hall
+and murmuring "Quicker this way," the Janitor unceremoniously lifted
+Mabel and dropped her down the big dust-chute.
+
+What a place for a heroine! In spite of her surprise, Mabel felt
+deeply mortified. It was humiliating enough for a would-be rescuer to
+be rescued; but to be dropped down a horrid, stuffy dust-chute and
+to land with a queer, springy thud on a pile of sliding stuff--the
+contents of a dozen or more waste-baskets and the results of
+innumerable sweepings--was worse.
+
+In a very few seconds, the hasty Janitor had opened the lower door of
+the chute and, with the firemen standing by, was calmly hauling her out
+by her feet--Oh! She could _never_ tell that part of it.
+
+And then, as if that were not bad enough, that inconsiderate Janitor
+seized her by the elbow and hurried her right into the coal bin, forced
+her to march over eighty tons of black, dusty, sliding coal and finally
+compelled her to crawl--yes, _crawl_--out of a small basement window on
+the safest side of the building. The only explanation that the rescuer
+vouchsafed was a gruff statement that the fire was "More to the other
+end" and that short-cuts saved time. Mabel tried to tell him what
+_she_ thought about it, but the Janitor seemed too excited to listen.
+
+Of course, by this time, the Bennetts, the Cottagers, the firemen, the
+Janitor's wife and most of the bystanders were in a perfectly dreadful
+state of mind; for the coal-hole window was not on their side of the
+building--Mabel was glad of that--so none of her friends witnessed
+her exit. The Cottagers, in particular, were clutching each other and
+fairly quaking with fear when a familiar voice behind them panted
+breathlessly:
+
+"I saved it, girls."
+
+Jean, Marjory and Bettie wheeled as one girl. It was certainly Mabel's
+voice, the shape and size were Mabel's, but the color----
+
+"Oh!" cried Jean, in a horrified tone. "Are you _burned_? Are you all
+burned up to a crisp?"
+
+But thoughtful Bettie, after one searching look to make certain that
+it really was Mabel, had not stopped to ask questions, nor to hear
+them answered. She remembered that the Bennetts were still anxious
+concerning their missing daughter, and straightway flew to relieve
+their minds.
+
+"She's safe, Mabel's safe," she shouted, running to the Bennetts, to
+Mr. Black, to the Tuckers, to all Mabel's friends, and completely
+forgetting her own usual shyness. "Yes, she's all safe. No, not burned;
+just scorched, I guess."
+
+Then everybody crowded around Mabel. Mrs. Bennett was about to kiss
+her, but desisted just in time.
+
+"Mabel!" she cried, as Jean had done. "Are you burned?"
+
+"No," mumbled Mabel, indignantly. "I'm not even singed. I--I just came
+out through the coal hole, but you needn't tell. That horrid Janitor
+dragged me out over a whole mountain of coal."
+
+"Thank Heaven!" breathed Mrs. Bennett.
+
+"Huh!" snorted Mabel, "that's a mighty queer thing to thank Heaven for,
+when it was only last night that I had a perfectly good bath. That's
+the meanest Janitor----"
+
+"Where is he?" demanded Dr. Bennett, eagerly. "I must thank him."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, "I must thank him too."
+
+"And I," said Dr. Tucker, "should like to shake hands with him."
+
+And would you believe it! Not a soul had a word of praise for Mabel's
+bravery. Not a person commended her for saving that precious purse.
+Instead, the local paper devoted a whole column to lauding the prompt
+action of that sickening Janitor, Dr. Bennett gave him a splendid gold
+watch, the School Board recommended him for a Carnegie medal--all
+because of the dust-chute.
+
+"Don't let me hear any more," Dr. Bennett said that night, "about that
+miserable two dollars and forty-seven cents. I'd rather give you two
+hundred and forty-seven dollars than have you take such risks."
+
+"Yes, sir," rejoined Mabel, meekly. "But you didn't say anything like
+that day before yesterday when I asked for three more cents to make it
+an even two-fifty. I must say I don't understand grown folks."
+
+"Mabel, you go--go take that bath. And when you're clean enough to
+kiss, come back and say good-night."
+
+"Yes, sir," sighed Mabel, "but I _do_ wish I _could_ raise three more
+cents."
+
+Mr. Bennett fished two quarters and three pennies from his pocket and
+handed them to Mabel.
+
+"There," said he, "you have an even three dollars, but I hope you won't
+consider it necessary to rescue them in case of any more fires."
+
+Fortunately, there were no more fires; but the original one made up for
+this lack by lasting for an astonishing length of time. For seven days
+the school building continued to burn in a safe but expensive manner;
+for the eighty tons of coal over which Mabel had walked so unwillingly
+had caught fire late in the afternoon and had burned steadily until
+entirely reduced to ashes. It was a strange, uncanny sight after dark
+to see the mighty ruin still lighted by a fitful glare from within.
+Only the four walls, the bare outer shell of the huge structure,
+remained. You see, all the rest of it had been wood--and steam pipes.
+Every splinter of wood was gone; but the pipes, and there seemed to
+be miles of them, were twisted like mighty serpents. They filled the
+cellar and seemed fairly to writhe in the scarlet glow. It made one
+think of dragons and volcanoes and things like that; and caused creepy
+feelings in one's spine.
+
+Even the dust-chute was gone. Mabel was glad of that. She hated to
+think of the Janitor proudly pointing it out to visitors and saying:
+
+"I once dropped a girl down there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A Birthday Party
+
+
+BUT if Mabel derived little joy from her experience as a heroine, there
+was at least some satisfaction in knowing that there could be no school
+on Monday, for Mabel was decidedly partial toward holidays.
+
+"If I ever teach school," she often said, "there'll be two Saturdays
+every week and no afternoon sessions."
+
+Jean, however, really liked to go to school. So did Marjory, but Bettie
+was uncertain.
+
+"If," said Bettie, "I could go long enough to know what grade I
+belonged in it might be interesting; but when you only attend in
+patches it's sort of mixing. There's a little piece of me in three
+different grades."
+
+When Mrs. Crane realized that there could be no school on Monday,
+she too was pleased. She stopped a moment after church on Sunday to
+intercept the girls on their way to Sunday School.
+
+"My!" said she. "How spruce you look!"
+
+They did look "spruce." Tall Jean was all in brown, even to her gloves
+and overshoes. Marjory's trim little winter suit was of dark green
+broadcloth with gray furs, for neat Aunty Jane, whatever her other
+failings, always kept Marjory very beautifully dressed. Bettie's short,
+kilted skirt was red under a boyish black reefer that had once belonged
+to Dick, and a black hat that Bob had discarded as "too floppy" had
+been wired and trimmed with scarlet cloth to match the skirt. This
+hand-me-down outfit was very becoming to dark-eyed Bettie, but then,
+Bettie was pretty in anything. Plump Mabel was buttoned tightly into a
+navy blue suit. Although she had owned it for barely six weeks it was
+no longer big enough either lengthwise or sidewise.
+
+"But," said Mabel, cheerfully, "by holding my breath most of the time I
+can stand it for one hour on Sundays."
+
+"How would you like," asked Mrs. Crane, "to spend to-morrow with me and
+Rosa Marie?"
+
+"We'd love to," said Jean.
+
+"We'd like it a lot," said Marjory.
+
+"Just awfully," breathed Bettie.
+
+"Oh, goody!" gurgled Mabel.
+
+"You see," said Mrs. Crane, "I'm not altogether easy about Rosa Marie.
+I do every living thing I can think of, but someway I can't get inside
+that child's shell. I declare, it seems sometimes as if she really
+pities me for being so stupid. And I think she's falling off in her
+looks."
+
+"Oh, I _hope_ not," cried Mabel, fervently.
+
+"No," agreed Marjory, "it certainly wouldn't do for Rosa Marie to fall
+off very _much_."
+
+"However," returned Mrs. Crane, loyally, "she might be very much worse
+and at any rate she is warm and well fed, even if she does seem a
+bit--foreign. So that Janitor put you down through the dust-chute, did
+he, Mabel? You must have landed with quite a jolt."
+
+"No," returned Mabel, rather sulkily, for every one was mentioning the
+dust-chute. "I had all September's and October's sweepings to land on.
+It was all mushy and springy, like mother's bed."
+
+"How," pursued kindly Mrs. Crane, "did he get you out?"
+
+"I'd--I'd rather not say," mumbled Mabel, flushing a brilliant crimson.
+No one else had thought to ask this dreaded question, and the papers,
+fortunately, had overlooked this detail.
+
+"Why!" giggled teasing Marjory, "he _must_ have dragged her out by
+her feet because she's so fat that she couldn't possibly have turned
+herself over in that narrow space. It's just like a chimney, you know.
+I've often looked down that place and wondered if Santa Claus could
+manage the trip down. Oh, Mabel! It must have been funny! Tell us about
+it."
+
+Mabel grinned, but it was rather a sickly grin.
+
+"First," she said, "he clawed out a lot of papers and stuff. Ugh! It
+was horrid to feel everything sliding right out from under me--I didn't
+know _how_ far I was going to drop. Then he grabbed my two ankles and
+just jerked me out on the bias through the little door at the bottom. I
+suppose it was a lot quicker. But he _didn't_ need to make me climb all
+that coal."
+
+"Yes, he did," returned Jean. "The cornice on the other three sides was
+all loose and flopping up and down in the flames. Pieces kept falling.
+The coal-bin side was the last to burn--the wind went the other
+way--and Miss Bonner's room was the last to catch fire."
+
+"That Janitor," declared Mrs. Crane, with conviction, "knew exactly
+what he was about. Now, girls, you'll be sure to come to-morrow, won't
+you? I think it will do Rosa Marie good and there's a reason why I'd
+like a little company myself, but I shan't tell you just now what it
+is."
+
+"Oh, do," begged all four.
+
+"No," returned Mrs. Crane. "It's a secret, and not a living soul knows
+it but me. I'll tell you to-morrow."
+
+"We'll _surely_ come," promised the girls.
+
+Of course they kept their promise. The four Cottagers arrived very soon
+after breakfast, were let in most sedately by Mr. Black's man, who
+smiled when the unceremonious visitors rushed pell-mell past him to
+fall upon Mrs. Crane, who was watering plants in the breakfast room.
+
+"Tell us the secret!" shouted Mabel. "Oh--I mean good-morning!"
+
+"Good-morning," smiled Mrs. Crane, setting the watering pot in a safe
+place. "The secret isn't a very big one. It's only that to-day is
+my birthday and I thought I'd like to have a party. You're it. The
+cook is making me a birthday cake, but she doesn't know that it is a
+birthday cake."
+
+"Goody!" cried Mabel.
+
+"Doesn't Mr. Black know it's your birthday?" queried Jean.
+
+"I don't think so. You see, it's a long time since Peter and I spent
+birthdays under the same roof, and men don't remember such things very
+well. We'll surprise him with the cake to-night. Now let's go to the
+nursery."
+
+Rosa Marie's dull countenance brightened at sight of her four friends.
+She gave four solemn little bobs with her head.
+
+"Mercy!" cried Marjory, "she's learning manners."
+
+"And see," said Bettie, "she's stringing beads."
+
+"That's a surprise," said Mrs. Crane, proudly. "I taught her that."
+
+"Fourteen," said Rosa Marie, unexpectedly.
+
+"Goodness me!" cried Mabel. "Can she count?"
+
+"Ye-es," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly, "but not to depend on. In
+fact, fourteen is the only counting word she _can_ say. Peter taught
+her that."
+
+"Fourteen," repeated Rosa Marie, holding up her string of beads.
+
+"You ridiculous baby!" laughed Mabel, hugging her. "Who are the pretty
+beads for?"
+
+Rosa Marie hurriedly clapped the string about her own brown throat.
+
+"No, no," remonstrated Mrs. Crane. "You're making them for Mabel."
+
+But Rosa Marie set her small white teeth firmly together and continued
+to hold the beads against her own plump neck.
+
+"_She_ knows whose beads they are," laughed Jean.
+
+"I can't teach her a single Christian virtue," sighed Mrs. Crane.
+"There isn't one unselfish hair in that child's head."
+
+"She's too young," encouraged Bettie. "All babies are little savages."
+
+"Not Anne Halliday," said Jean, who fairly worshiped her small cousin.
+
+"That's different," said Marjory. "Anne was born with manners."
+
+"The little Tuckers weren't," soothed Bettie. "Rosa Marie will be
+generous enough in time."
+
+"I wish I could believe it," sighed Mrs. Crane.
+
+"Hi, hi! What's all this racket?" cried Mr. Black from the doorway. "Is
+Rosa Marie doing all that talking? Get your things on quick, all of
+you, and come for a ride with me."
+
+"A ride!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane. "What in?"
+
+"An automobile," returned Mr. Black, turning to wink comically at
+Bettie.
+
+"An automobile!" echoed Mrs. Crane. "I'd like to know whose. There's
+only one in town and I don't know the owners."
+
+"Yours," twinkled Mr. Black. "It's your birthday present."
+
+"How did you know that this was the day?"
+
+"Perhaps I remembered," said Mr. Black, smiling rather tenderly at his
+old sister. "You _used_ to have them on this day."
+
+"I do still," beamed Mrs. Crane. "That's why I invited the girls;
+they're my birthday party. But what's this about automobiles?"
+
+"Only one. It's yours."
+
+"Peter Black! I don't believe you."
+
+"Look out the hall window."
+
+Everybody rushed to the big window in the front hall. Sure enough! A
+splendid motor car stood at the gate.
+
+"Peter," faltered Mrs. Crane, "have I _got_ to ride in that? I've never
+set foot in one, and I'm sure I'd be scared to at this late day."
+
+"What! Not ride in your own automobile? Bless you, Sarah, in another
+week you'll refuse to stay out of it. Get your things on, everybody;
+and warm ones, too. Find extra wraps for these girls, Sarah. There's
+room for everybody but Rosa Marie."
+
+"Now, isn't that just like a man?" said Mrs. Crane, looking about
+helplessly. "Whose clothes does he think you're going to wear for
+'extra wraps'? His, or mine?"
+
+Everybody laughed, for obviously Mr. Black's house was a poor one in
+which to find little girls' garments.
+
+"We'll stop at your houses," said he, "and pick up some duds. Besides,
+perhaps your mothers might like to know that you've been kidnaped.
+What! no hat on yet? Here, pin this on," said Mr. Black, handing Mrs.
+Crane a pink dust-cap. "I can't wait all day."
+
+"Mercy! That's not a bonnet," cried Mrs. Crane, scurrying away. "I'll
+be ready in two minutes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+An Unexpected Treat
+
+
+"PETER," demanded Mrs. Crane, stopping short on the horse-block, "who's
+going to run that thing?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Not with me in it. You don't know how."
+
+"My dear, I've been learning the business for five weeks."
+
+"So _that's_ what has taken you to Bancroft every afternoon for all
+that time?"
+
+"That's exactly what," admitted Mr. Black.
+
+"And you're _sure_," queried Mrs. Crane, doubtfully, "that you
+understand all those fixings?"
+
+"Every one of them."
+
+"Will you promise to go slow?"
+
+"There's a fine for exceeding the speed limit," twinkled Mr. Black.
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that," said Mrs. Crane, permitting her patient
+brother to help her into the vehicle. "My! but these cushions are soft."
+
+"Yes," said Bettie, "it's just like sitting on baking powder biscuits
+before they're baked."
+
+"How do you know?" asked Mr. Black.
+
+"Because I've tried it. You see, ministers' wives are dreadfully
+interrupted persons, and one night when Mother was making biscuits
+some visitors came. Instead of popping one of the pans into the oven,
+mother dropped it on a dining-room chair on her way to the door and
+forgot all about it. When I came in to supper that chair was at my
+place and I flopped right down on those biscuits! And I had to _stay_
+sitting on them because Father had asked one of the visitors--_such_
+a particular-looking person--to stay to tea; and I knew that Mother
+wouldn't want a perfectly strange man to know about it."
+
+"That was certainly thoughtful," smiled Mr. Black. "Now, is every one
+comfortable? If she is, we'll go for those extra wraps."
+
+The new machine rolled down the street and turned the corner in the
+neatest way imaginable. Mrs. Crane looked decidedly uneasy at first;
+but when Mr. Black had successfully steered the birthday present past
+the ice wagon, a coal team, a prancing pony and two street cars, she
+folded the hands that had been nervously clutching the side of the car
+and leaned back with a relieved sigh.
+
+But when Mabel asked a question, Mrs. Crane silenced her quickly.
+
+"Don't talk to him," she implored. "There's no telling _what_ might
+happen to us if he were to take any part of his mind off that--that
+helm, for even a single second. Don't even _look_ at him."
+
+What did happen was this. After the extra wraps had been collected
+and donned, Mr. Black carried his charges all the way to Bancroft, a
+distance of seventeen miles, in perfect safety. The road was good, the
+day was mild and the only team they passed obligingly turned in at its
+own gate before they reached it. They stopped in front of the biggest
+and best hotel in Bancroft.
+
+"Everybody out for dinner," ordered Mr. Black.
+
+"But, Peter," expostulated Mrs. Crane, hanging back, bashfully, "I'm in
+my every-day clothes."
+
+"Well, this isn't Sunday; and you always look well dressed. You're a
+very neat woman, Sarah."
+
+"Well I _am_ neat, but black alpaca isn't silk even if my sleeves _are_
+this year's. And for goodness' sake, Peter, don't ask me to pronounce
+any of that bill of fare if it isn't plain every-day English, for
+you know there isn't a French fiber in my tongue. You order for me.
+There's only one thing I can't eat and that's parsnips."
+
+It was a very nice dinner and plain English enough to suit even
+matter-of-fact Mrs. Crane. After the first few bashful moments, the
+four girls chattered so merrily that all the guests at other tables
+caught themselves listening and smiling sympathetically.
+
+"I never ate a really truly hotel dinner before," confided Bettie,
+happily.
+
+"And to think," sighed Jean, contentedly, "of doing it without knowing
+you were going to! That always makes things nicer."
+
+"And I _never_ expected to ride in a navy-blue automobile," murmured
+Marjory.
+
+"Or to have four kinds of potatoes," breathed Mabel, who sat half
+surrounded by empty dishes--"little birds' bath-tubs," she called them.
+
+"You must be a vegetarian," smiled Mr. Black.
+
+"N-no," denied Mabel. "Only a potatorian."
+
+"Mabel!" objected Marjory. "There isn't any such word."
+
+"Yes, there is," returned Mabel, calmly. "I just made it."
+
+"Well, I'm sure," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I never expected to have any such
+birthday as this."
+
+"You see," said Mr. Black, giving his sister's plump elbow a kindly
+squeeze, "this is a good many birthdays rolled into one."
+
+"It seems hard," mourned Mabel, who was earnestly scanning the bill of
+fare, "to read about so many kinds of dessert when you've room enough
+left for only three. I wish I'd began saving space sooner."
+
+"You're in luck," laughed Bettie. "A very small, thin one is all _I_
+can manage--pineapple ice, I guess."
+
+"Anyway," said Marjory, "I shan't choose bread pudding. We have that
+every Tuesday and Friday at home. Aunty Jane has regular times for
+everything, so I always know just what's coming. I'm going to have
+something different--hot mince pie, I guess."
+
+"Ice-cream," said Jean, "with hot chocolate sauce."
+
+"Bring _me_," said Mabel, turning to the waiter, "hot mince pie,
+ice-cream with hot chocolate sauce and a pineapple ice with little
+cakes."
+
+"Bring little cakes for everybody," added Mr. Black.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, "I don't know when I've been so hungry."
+
+"Now," remarked Mr. Black, half an hour later, "I think we'd better be
+jogging along toward home because it won't be as warm when the sun goes
+down and I want to show you some of the sights in Bancroft--there's a
+pretty good candy shop a few blocks from here--before we start toward
+Lakeville. We can run down in about an hour."
+
+"Peter," demanded Mrs. Crane, "what _is_ that speed limit?"
+
+"About eight miles an hour."
+
+"Hum--and it's seventeen miles----"
+
+"Now, Sarah, don't go to doing arithmetic--you know you were never
+very good at it. If I were to keep strictly within that limit you'd
+all want to get out and push. Got all your wraps? Whose muff is this?
+Here's a glove. Whose neck belongs to this pussy-cat thing? Here's a
+handkerchief and two more gloves--Well, well! It's a good thing you had
+somebody along to gather up your duds. What! My hat? Why, that's so, I
+_did_ have a cap--here it is in my coat pocket."
+
+There was still time after the pleasant ride home for a good frolic
+with Rosa Marie and a cozy meal with Mrs. Crane; strangely enough,
+everybody was again hungry enough to enjoy the big birthday cake and
+the good apple-sauce that went with it. Then Mr. Black carried them all
+home in the motor car and delivered each damsel at her own door. But
+only one stayed delivered, for the other three immediately ran around
+the block to meet at Jean's always popular home. You see, they had to
+talk it all over without the restraint of their host's presence.
+
+"I think," said Mabel, ecstatically, "that Mr. Black is just too dear
+for words. _Some_ folks are too stingy to live, with their automobiles
+and horses and never _think_ of giving anybody a ride."
+
+"He's certainly very generous," agreed Jean.
+
+"Of course," ventured Marjory, meditatively, "he has plenty of money or
+he couldn't do nice things."
+
+"He would anyway," declared Bettie. "It's the way he's made. Don't you
+remember how Mrs. Crane was always being good to people even when she
+was so dreadfully poor? Well, Mr. Black would be just like that, too,
+even if he hadn't a single dollar. He has a Santa Claus heart."
+
+"There _are_ folks," admitted Marjory, "that wouldn't know how to give
+anybody a good time if they had all the money in the world. There's
+Aunty Jane, for instance. She's a _very_ good woman, with a terribly
+pricking conscience, and I know she'd like to make things pleasant for
+me if she knew how, but she doesn't, poor thing. She doesn't know a
+good time when she sees one. And Mrs. Howard Slater doesn't, either."
+
+"Good-evening, girls," said Mrs. Mapes, coming in with a newspaper in
+her hand. "I _thought_ I heard voices in here. Have you had a nice day?
+You're just in time to read the paper; there's something in it that
+will interest you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A Scattered School
+
+
+IT seemed too bad for such a delightful day to end sorrowfully, but
+the evening paper certainly brought disquieting news. It stated that
+the School Board hoped to provide, within a very few days, suitable
+schoolrooms for all the pupils. And, in another item, the unfeeling
+editor complimented the Board on its enterprise.
+
+"I'd like that Board a whole lot better," said Marjory, "if it weren't
+so enterprising. I s'posed we were going to have at least a month to
+play in."
+
+"Just before Christmas, too," grumbled Mabel. "They might at least have
+waited until I'd finished Father's shoe-bag. And what do you think?
+Mother says I'd better give that Janitor a Christmas present!"
+
+"Perhaps the paper is mistaken," soothed Jean. "You know it always is
+about the weather reports. If it says 'Fair,' it's sure to rain; and
+when it says 'Colder,' it's quite certain to be warm. Besides, there
+isn't a place in town big enough for all that school."
+
+But this time it was Jean and not the paper that was mistaken. In just
+a few days the School Board announced that its hopes were realized.
+It had found "suitable quarters" for all the classes. Two grades went
+into the basement of the Baptist Church. The underground portion of
+the Methodist edifice accommodated two more. The A. O. U. W. Hall
+opened its doors to three others. A benevolent private citizen took
+in the kindergarten. A downtown store hastily transformed itself from
+an unsuccessful harness shop into nearly as unsuccessful a haven for
+two other grades. The City Hall gave up its Council Chamber to the
+Seniors, and the Masons loaned their dining-room to the Juniors,
+without, however, providing any refreshment. The enterprising Board
+had telegraphed for desks the very day of the fire; and as soon as
+that dreadfully prompt furniture arrived, it was remorselessly screwed
+into place. The Stationer, too, had speedily ordered books. They, too,
+traveled with unseemly haste from New York to Lakeville. By Thursday,
+less than a week after the fire, there were desks and seats and books
+for everybody; and would you believe it, they even kept school on
+Saturday, that week!
+
+And now, an utterly unforeseen thing happened. Hitherto Jean, who was
+usually the first to be ready, had stopped for Marjory and Bettie. All
+three had stopped to finish dressing Mabel, who always needed a great
+deal of assistance, and then all four had walked merrily to school
+together. But now this happy scheme was entirely ruined, for here was
+Jean doing algebra under the Baptist roof, Bettie struggling with
+grammar in the Methodist basement, Marjory climbing two long flights
+of stairs to the A. O. U. W. Hall and Mabel passing six saloons to
+reach her desk in the made-over harness shop.
+
+"It isn't just what we'd choose," apologized the School Board, "but it
+won't last forever. We'll build just as soon as we can."
+
+Except for the inconvenience of having to go to school separately the
+children were rather pleased with the novelty of moving into such
+unusual quarters as the Board had provided; but the mothers were not at
+all satisfied.
+
+"That Baptist cellar is damp and Jean's throat is delicate," complained
+Mrs. Mapes. "I know she'll be sick half the winter; but of course
+she'll have to go to school there as long as there's no better place."
+
+"That Methodist Church is no place for children," declared Mrs. Tucker.
+"Its brick walls were condemned seven years ago and it's likely to fall
+down at any moment, even if they did brace it up with iron bands. But
+Bettie's too far behind now for me to take her out of school, so I
+suppose she'll just have to risk having that church tumble in on her."
+
+"It's a shame," sputtered Aunty Jane, "for Marjory to climb all those
+stairs twice a day. It's all very well for the Ancient Order of United
+Workmen to climb two flights with grown-up legs, but it isn't right for
+delicate girls. However, there's no help for it just now, and I can't
+say I blame the child for sliding down the banisters, though of course
+I do scold her for it."
+
+"There are saloons on both sides of that harness shop," said Mrs.
+Bennett, "and six more this side of it, besides a livery stable that is
+always full of loafers and bad language. Mabel has never been allowed
+to go to that part of town alone, and now I have to send a maid with
+her twice a day. But of course she has to go, even if the maid _is_
+more timid than Mabel is."
+
+"By next year," consoled the Board, "we'll have a bigger and better
+schoolhouse than the old one. In the meantime we must all have
+patience."
+
+Except that Mabel, without the others to get her started, was always
+late and that Bettie, without Marjory to coach her on the way, found it
+difficult to learn her lessons, school life went on very much as usual,
+for matters soon settled down as things always do and Lakeville turned
+its attention to fresher problems.
+
+Poor Bettie, indeed, was busier than ever because Miss Rossitor, the
+Domestic Science teacher, whose classes were temporarily housed in the
+Methodist kitchen, discovered that Bettie could draw. Every day or two
+she asked Bettie to remain after school to copy needed illustrations on
+the blackboard. One day, Miss Rossitor demanded a cow. She needed it,
+she explained, to show her class the different cuts of meat.
+
+"A side view of a plain cow," said she.
+
+"I think," said Bettie, reflectively nibbling the fresh stick of chalk,
+"that I could do the outside of that cow, but I know I couldn't get his
+veal cutlets in the proper spot."
+
+"I'll give you a diagram," smiled Miss Rossitor, "for I see very
+plainly, that it wouldn't be safe not to."
+
+"Perhaps Miss Bettie thinks," ventured a belated pupil, a pink-cheeked
+girl with an impertinent nose, "that one cow is a whole butcher shop."
+
+"Well," returned Miss Rossitor, meaningly, "it isn't a great while
+since some other folks were of the same opinion. But, since you are
+now so very much wiser, you may label the parts after Bettie has drawn
+them."
+
+The girl made such a comical face that Bettie's gravity was in sad
+danger, but she accepted the chalk. On the cow's shoulder she printed
+"Pork sausages," on the flank, "Mutton chops," on the backbone,
+"Oysters on the half-shell," on the breast, "buttons."
+
+Bettie looked puzzled and doubtful but Miss Rossitor laughed outright.
+
+"Henrietta Bedford," she said, "you're a complete humbug. If you don't
+settle down to business you won't get home to-night."
+
+"I'm going to walk home with Bettie," returned Henrietta, quickly
+substituting the proper labels. "I can easily write out that luncheon
+menu while she's putting feathers on the cow's tail."
+
+And the new girl did walk home with Bettie, and teased her so merrily
+all the long way that Bettie didn't know whether to like her or not.
+
+Near the Cottage they met Jean, Marjory and Mabel just starting out to
+look for belated Bettie.
+
+"This," said Bettie introducing her new acquaintance, "is
+Henrietta--Henrietta----"
+
+"Plantagenet," assisted Henrietta Bedford, smoothly. "I am really a
+Duchess in disguise, but I've left all my retainers in Ohio and I'm
+simply dying for friends. This is my day for collecting them--I always
+collect friends on Tuesdays. You are indeed fortunate to have happened
+upon me on Tuesday. But, Elizabeth, why not finish your introductions?"
+
+"This," obeyed overwhelmed Bettie, "is Jean, this is Marjory and this
+is Mabel Bennett."
+
+"What! The Damsel of the Dust-chute! I am indeed honored."
+
+Then, as her quick eye traveled over Mabel's plump figure, Henrietta
+added wickedly:
+
+"Was that chute built to fit?"
+
+Mabel flushed angrily.
+
+"It is I," apologized Henrietta, "that should wear those blushes.
+Forgive me, dear Damsel. I have an over-quick tongue and all my
+speeches are followed by repentance. But I have a warm heart and I'm
+really much nicer than I sound. See, I kneel at your insulted feet."
+
+Whereupon this ridiculous girl with the impertinent nose flopped down
+on her knees on the sidewalk and made such comically repentant faces
+that all four giggled merrily.
+
+"Get up, you goose," laughed Mabel. "Your apology is accepted."
+
+"Come along with us," urged Jean. "We're going to have hot chocolate at
+our house. Mother is trying to fatten Marjory, Bettie and me."
+
+"She seems to succeed best with--hum--no personal remarks, please.
+Dear maiden, I will inspect your home from the outside, but I regret
+that I'm strictly forbidden to go _in_side any strange house without
+my grandmother's permission. You'll have to call on me first. She
+is _very_ particular in such matters. But," added Henrietta, with a
+sudden twinkle, "I'm not. So, if you'll kindly rush in and make that
+chocolate, there's no earthly reason why I shouldn't stand just
+outside your gate and drink it."
+
+"Oh," cried Bettie, "is it possible that you're Mrs. Howard Slater's
+new granddaughter?"
+
+"I am," admitted Henrietta, "but I'm not so new as you seem to think.
+She has owned me for fourteen years. Now, hustle up that chocolate.
+I've just remembered that I'm to have a dress tried on at four. It is
+now half-past."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+An Invitation
+
+
+"BETTIE," asked Jean, when the girls were "hustling up" the chocolate
+in Mrs. Mapes' kitchen (the weather was now too cold for Dandelion
+Cottage to be habitable), "where did you find her?"
+
+"At school," replied Bettie. "She comes in for Domestic Science. I've
+seen her about three times, and every time she's had that stiff Miss
+Rossitor laughing. You know who that girl is, don't you?"
+
+"I've heard something," said Marjory, "but I can't just remember what,
+about some girl named Henrietta."
+
+"Well, you've seen Mrs. Howard Slater?"
+
+All the girls had seen Mrs. Slater, the beautifully gowned, decidedly
+aristocratic old lady with abundant but perfectly white hair and
+bright, sparkling black eyes. Mrs. Slater, who seemed a very reserved
+and exclusive person, had spent many summers and even an occasional
+winter in her own handsome home in Lakeville. She lived alone except
+for a number of servants; for both her son and her daughter were
+married. The son lived abroad, no one knew just where; and some four
+years previously Mrs. Slater's daughter, who was Henrietta's mother,
+had died in Rome. Since that event Henrietta had been cared for by her
+uncle's wife; and she had spent a winter in California and another
+in Florida with her grandmother, but this was her first visit to
+Lakeville. It was said that Henrietta's mother had left her little
+daughter a very respectable fortune, that her father, an English
+traveler of note, was also wealthy, and it was known to a certainty
+that Mrs. Howard Slater was a moneyed person.
+
+"Yes," said Marjory, replying to Bettie's question, "we sit behind Mrs.
+Slater in church, and she's the very daintiest old lady that ever
+lived. She's as slim and straight as any young girl. She's perfectly
+lovely to look at, but----"
+
+"Yes, 'but,'" agreed Jean. "She seems very proud and not
+very--get-nearable. I don't know whether I'd like to live with her or
+not; but I know I'd feel terribly set up to own a few relatives that
+_looked_ like that."
+
+"How do you like Henrietta?" asked Mabel.
+
+"I don't know," said Bettie.
+
+"Neither do I," replied Jean.
+
+"It takes time," declared Marjory, "to discover whether you like a
+person or not. And when it's such a different person--truly, she isn't
+a bit like any other girl in this town--it takes longer."
+
+"The chocolate's ready," announced Jean, opening a box of wafers.
+"Here, Bettie, you carry Henrietta's cup and I'll take these. Let's
+_all_ have our chocolate on the sidewalk."
+
+Henrietta, her hands in her pockets, was leaning against the
+fence and humming a tune. Her voice, in speaking, was very nicely
+modulated--which was fortunate, because she used it a great deal. She
+straightened up when the door opened.
+
+"I'm an icicle," said she. "I hope that chocolate's good and hot. My!
+What a nice big cup! And wafers! I'm glad I stayed for your party. I've
+had chocolate in France, in Germany, in Italy, in Switzerland and in
+England, but I do believe this is the very first time I've had any in
+America."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Jean, "that you have to have your first on the
+sidewalk."
+
+"I shan't, next time," promised Henrietta. "I have a beautiful plan.
+I made it while waiting for the chocolate. You're all to come after
+school to-morrow and pay me a formal call. Then I'll return it. After
+that, I suspect I shall be allowed to run in. But first you'll have to
+call, formally."
+
+"A formal call!" gasped Bettie.
+
+"We never made a formal call in all our lives," objected Jean.
+
+"They're dreadful," agreed Henrietta, "but in this case you'll really
+have to do it. I've planned it all nicely. In the first place, you must
+hand your cards to the butler----"
+
+"Cards!" gasped Jean and Bettie.
+
+"Cards!" snorted Mabel, flushing indignantly. "We haven't a card to our
+names!"
+
+"You _must_ have them," declared Henrietta, firmly, "or Simmons may
+consider you suspicious characters. Simmons is a very lofty person.
+You can write some, you know, because Simmons holds his chin so high
+that it interferes with the view, so he'll never know what's on them.
+Then you must be very polite to Grandmother and say 'Yes, ma'am,'
+'No, ma'am,' 'Thank you, ma'am'--and not very much else. You've seen
+Grandmother, of course? Then you know how very formal and stiff she
+looks. Well, _you_ must be like that, too."
+
+"I'll try," said Mabel, "but it'll be pretty hard work."
+
+"Be sure to wear gloves," cautioned Henrietta. "Grandmother is
+exceedingly particular about shoes and gloves. I know it's a lot of
+trouble, but you'll find it pays; for after you've beaten down the icy
+barrier that surrounds me, you'll find me quite a comfortable person.
+And _do_ come just as early as you can--I'm really desperately lonely."
+
+This was a different Henrietta from the merry one that Bettie had
+encountered. That other Henrietta had made her laugh. This one, with
+the wistful, sorrowful countenance and the four words "I'm really
+desperately lonely," was almost moving her to tears.
+
+"You'll surely come," pleaded Henrietta.
+
+"We'll come," promised Bettie, "cards and all."
+
+"_Au revoir_," said Henrietta, carefully balancing her cup on the top
+rail of the fence. "I must run along now to try on my clothes."
+
+"Was that French?" queried Mabel, gazing after the departing figure.
+
+"I think so," replied Jean.
+
+"She can certainly talk English fast enough," said Marjory. "I suppose
+just one language _isn't_ enough for anybody that chatters like that."
+
+"Do you think," asked Bettie, "she meant all that about cards and
+gloves and butlers? She's so full of fun most of the time that I don't
+exactly know whether to believe her or not."
+
+"I think she did," said Marjory. "You see, I sit behind Mrs. Slater in
+church--and I'm thankful that it's behind."
+
+"Perhaps that's the reason," ventured Bettie, "that nobody'll rent the
+three pews in front of her. Father says it's hard to even give them
+away. No one likes to sit in them."
+
+"That's it," agreed Marjory. "One would have to be sure that her back
+hair was absolutely perfect to be at all comfortable in front of Mrs.
+Slater."
+
+"And that," groaned discouraged Mabel, "is the sort of person I'm to
+make my first formal call on."
+
+"You'd better take your bath to-night," advised Jean, "and lay out all
+your very best clothes. And don't forget to polish your shoes."
+
+"Father has some blank cards," said Bettie, "and he writes beautifully.
+I'll get him to do cards for all of us."
+
+"I think," said Marjory, with a puzzled air, "that we ought to take
+five or six apiece. I know Aunty Jane leaves a whole lot at one house,
+sometimes."
+
+"No," corrected Jean, "we need just two. One for Mrs. Slater and one
+for Henrietta. My aunt, Mrs. Halliday, always gets two whenever her
+sister-in-law is visiting there."
+
+"There are holes in my best gloves," mourned Bettie. "They came in a
+missionary box, and missionary gloves are never very good even to
+start with. Besides, Dick wore them first--I never had a _new_ pair of
+kid gloves."
+
+"Never mind," said always generous Mabel. "I must have about six pairs
+and I've never had any of the things on. I know I've outgrown some of
+them. Your hands are lots smaller than mine. Come over and I'll fix you
+out--Mother said we'd have to give them to somebody and I guess you're
+just exactly the right somebody. I hate the thing myself."
+
+"Goody!" rejoiced Bettie.
+
+"I wish," said Jean, "that my shoes were newer, but I'll get the boys
+to black 'em."
+
+"I can't help _you_ out," laughed Mabel. "My shoes are short and fat
+and yours are long and slim."
+
+"A coat of Wallace's blacking will be all that's needed, thank you,
+Mabel. There's nothing like having brothers when it comes to blacking
+shoes."
+
+"We'll have to get up a little earlier to-morrow morning," said Marjory.
+
+"Mercy!" exclaimed Jean, "are you leaving all those chocolate cups on
+the fence for _me_ to carry in?"
+
+"Of course not," said obliging Bettie, seizing two. "Come on, you lazy
+people."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+Obeying Instructions
+
+
+THE four girls were wonderfully excited all the next day. They were
+restless in school and fidgety at home.
+
+"A body would think," scoffed Aunty Jane, at noon, "that you were going
+to your own wedding. Don't worry so. I'll have everything ready for you
+to put on the moment you get out of school."
+
+"Oh, thank you," breathed Marjory, fervently. "That'll help a lot; but
+I do hope that Bettie's father will remember to do those cards. And,
+Aunty Jane, _could_ you lend me a perfectly inkless hankerchief?"
+
+"Jumping January!" growled Wallace Mapes, Jean's older brother. "That
+makes nineteen times, Jean, that you've reminded me of those miserable
+shoes. I'll black them when I've finished lunch. I'm not going to rush
+off in the middle of my oyster soup to black _any_body's best shoes."
+
+"Is it a reception?" asked Roger.
+
+"No," replied Wallace, "just a formal call on Henrietta Bedford."
+
+"She's in my French class," said Roger. "And kippered snakes! You ought
+to hear her recite. She talks up and down and all around poor little
+Miss McGinnis, whose French was made right here in Lakeville. It's a
+daily picnic."
+
+"You won't forget my shoes, will you?" reminded anxious Jean.
+
+"I'd like to know how I _could_," demanded Wallace, feelingly.
+
+Although Mabel had taken a most complete bath the night before, she
+spent the noon-hour taking another. She put on her best stockings and
+shoes, but looked doubtfully at her Sunday suit.
+
+"If I have to do my language in ink," reflected she, "it'll be all up
+with my clothes. I'll just have to change after school."
+
+The girls were out by half-past three. Fortunately, Miss Rossitor
+needed no more cows that afternoon, so Bettie was home in good season.
+All four dressed speedily. Three of them got into their gloves
+unassisted; but Jean, Marjory and Bettie found plump, impatient Mabel
+seated on the piano stool with her mother working over one hand, her
+perspiring father over the other. Several other gloves that had proved
+too small were scattered on the floor.
+
+"You needn't think," said Mabel, greeting her friends with an
+expressive grimace, "that _I_ ever picked out these lemon-colored
+frights. Somebody sent 'em for Christmas. None of the pretty ones were
+big enough--I've tried four pairs."
+
+"Neither are these," returned Mrs. Bennett, "and the color certainly
+is outrageous, but it's Hobson's choice. And just remember, Mabel, if
+you touch a single door-knob they'll be black before you get there.
+And don't put your hands in your pockets. And _please_ don't rub them
+along the fences. There! Mine's on as far as it will go."
+
+[Illustration: THE DECIDEDLY DEPRESSED FOUR STARTED DOWN THE STREET.]
+
+"I guess you'd better finish this one," said Dr. Bennett, abandoning
+his task. "I rather tackle a case of smallpox than wrestle with another
+job like that. She'd look much better in mittens."
+
+"Mittens!" snubbed Mabel. "You can't make formal calls in mittens! Now,
+Somebody, please put me into my jacket and hat, if I'm not to touch
+anything."
+
+The decidedly depressed four, in their Sunday best, started down the
+street. Mabel's gloves, owing to their brilliant color, were certainly
+conspicuous, and unconsciously she made them more so by the careful and
+rigid manner in which she carried them. It was plain that she had them
+very much on her mind. And when her hat tilted forward over one eye she
+left it there rather than risk damaging those immaculate lemon-hued
+gloves.
+
+"Take my muff," implored Marjory. "That yellow splendor lights up
+the whole street."
+
+"No, siree," declined Mabel. "If Mrs. Slater wants gloves she's going
+to have 'em. Do you think I'm going to suffer like this and not have
+'em _show_?"
+
+So Mabel, a swollen, imprisoned but gorgeous hand dangling at each
+side, a big navy-blue hat flopping over one eye, strutted muffless down
+the street.
+
+"That's the house," announced Jean, as they turned the corner. "That
+big one with the covered driveway."
+
+"Ugh!" shuddered Marjory, "it gives me chills to think of ringing such
+a wealthy doorbell. Are the cards safe, Bettie? My! I hope you haven't
+lost them."
+
+"In my pocket in an envelope," assured Bettie.
+
+"Can you see any white?" queried Jean, nervously. "I think my top
+petticoat has broken loose."
+
+"It seems all right," said Marjory, stooping to test it with little
+sharp jerks. "Firm as the Rock of Gibraltar."
+
+"It won't be if you pull like that," objected Jean.
+
+"Somebody open the gate," requested Mabel. "I can't touch things."
+
+"Everybody stand up straight," commanded Marjory. "We must look our
+best when we go up the walk."
+
+"I wish I hadn't come," demurred Bettie, hanging back, diffidently.
+"Let's wait till it's darker."
+
+"No," asserted Jean. "We'd better get it over."
+
+"Yes," agreed Mabel, "I don't want to wear these gloves a minute longer
+than I have to."
+
+"All right," sighed Bettie, despondently, "but you go first, Jean."
+
+They had waited on the imposing doorstep for a long five minutes when
+it occurred to Marjory to ask if any one had pushed the bell.
+
+"No," replied Jean, with a surprised air. "I thought _you_ had."
+
+"And I," said Bettie, "supposed that Mabel had."
+
+"How could I," demanded Mabel, hotly, "in these gloves?"
+
+And then, all four began to giggle. Never before had such an
+inopportune fit of helpless, hysterical giggling seized the Cottagers.
+No one could stop. Tears rolled down Mabel's plump cheeks, and,
+fettered by her lemon-colored gloves, she had to let them roll, until
+Bettie wiped them away. And that set them all off again. In the midst
+of it Marjory's sharp elbow inadvertently struck the push-bell and
+Simmons, the imposing, much-dreaded butler, opened the door. Instantly
+the giggling ceased. Four exceedingly solemn little girls filed
+into the big hall. Bettie groped nervously for her pocket, found it
+and endeavored to extract the cards. But the large, stiff envelope
+stuck and, for a long, embarrassing moment, Bettie fumbled in vain;
+while the butler, his chin "very high and scornful" as Marjory said
+afterwards, waited.
+
+At last the cards were out. Diffident Bettie dropped them, envelope and
+all, on the extended plate; but Jean deftly seized the envelope and
+shook out the cards. Next followed a most unhappy moment. Simmons was
+evidently expecting them to do _something_, they hadn't the remotest
+idea what.
+
+Then, to their great relief, there was a sudden "swish" of silken
+skirts, a flash of scarlet and lively Henrietta, who had slid down the
+broad banister, was greeting them warmly.
+
+"Grandmother's out," said she. "Come up to my room and have a real
+visit before she gets back. Simmons, just toddle down to the lower
+regions for some fruit and anything else you can find; send them up to
+my room."
+
+Something very like a smile flitted across Simmons's wooden
+countenance. Perhaps it amused him to be ordered to "toddle."
+
+"Do you like my new gown?" queried Henrietta, leading the way upstairs
+and flirting her accordion-pleated skirts in graceful fashion. "It's my
+dinner dress. I have to dress for dinner every night--such a fuss for
+just two of us. Come in here--this is my sitting-room."
+
+"How very odd," said Jean, finding her voice at last.
+
+"Isn't it?" laughed Henrietta, shaking her brown curls. She wore them
+tied back with two enormous black bows. "Grandmother's a mixture
+of everything, you know--French, English, New York Dutch--and her
+furniture shows it. Lots of it came from Europe and Father picked up
+things in India and China--such a jolly dad as he is. That's why this
+place is such a jumble."
+
+"I like it," declared Jean. "It looks interesting--as if there were
+lovely stories in it."
+
+"There are," said Henrietta, drawing aside a heavy, silken curtain,
+"and I keep making new ones to fit. This is my bedroom, this next one
+is my dressing-room and this is my bath."
+
+"Ugh!" shuddered Mabel, "do you take shower baths?"
+
+"Every morning," laughed Henrietta.
+
+"What a lovely dressing table!" exclaimed Bettie, peering into the oval
+mirror and smiling into her own dark eyes. "I never saw such pretty
+things, even in a catalogue."
+
+"It's French," said Henrietta, "but all those little jeweled boxes came
+from Calcutta--Father just loves to buy little boxes with inlaid tops.
+Oh, here's Greta, with things to eat." Henrietta hastily swept her
+belongings from a dainty little table and the smiling maid deposited
+the heavy tray.
+
+"Tangerines, nuts, figs and sponge cake," chattered Henrietta. "That's
+very nice, Greta. Help yourselves to chairs, girls. Here's a tabouret
+for you, little Marjory. Catch, Jean," and the merry little hostess
+tossed a golden tangerine to Jean. "Oh, wait," she added. "You mustn't
+take off your gloves or get them soiled, because Grandmother always
+gets in about this time, and you know you must be very formal with
+Grandmother. I'll peel them for you. Now draw up closer. You mustn't
+spot your gloves, so I'll feed you. First, a bit of sponge cake all
+around. Now an almond. Now the orange. Oh, I'm forgetting myself! Now
+more sponge cake."
+
+"This is fine," said Bettie. "I'm always hungry after school."
+
+"So am I," said Jean.
+
+"If I'd s'posed," said Mabel, "that formal calls were like this, I'd
+have started sooner."
+
+"Are you a different person every time anybody sees you?" asked Bettie,
+curiously.
+
+"Why?" queried Henrietta.
+
+"Because," explained Bettie, "you seem so very changeable. You're a
+mischief in school, yesterday you seemed almost sad and to-day you're
+so polite."
+
+"Oh, _thank_ you," said Henrietta, rising to sweep a deep and very much
+exaggerated courtesy. "Nobody _ever_ before said that I was polite."
+
+"Miss Henrietta," said Greta, tapping at the door, "the carriage has
+just turned the corner."
+
+"Follow me," said Henrietta, with an instant change of tone, as she
+hurriedly brushed the crumbs from her lap and pulled Mabel's jacket
+into place. "Follow me and don't make a sound. It's time to be formal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+With Henrietta
+
+
+THROUGH a long corridor, around several corners and down two flights
+of back stairs, the formal callers, their hearts in their throats,
+followed Henrietta, who finally paused at the basement door.
+
+"There," said Henrietta, mysteriously, "you're safe at last. Now
+listen. You must slip out through the alley, walk slowly round the
+block, approach the house with dignity, ring the doorbell and present
+your cards to Simmons."
+
+"We--we can't," faltered Bettie. "He has them _now_."
+
+"I'll poke them out through the letter slot," laughed resourceful
+Henrietta. "You're not going to escape that formal call. Wait, your
+hat's over one ear, Mabel. There now, you're perfectly lovely. Now
+don't forget to pick up the cards."
+
+Entirely bewildered by Henrietta's pranks, the conventional visitors
+walked out through the alley, strolled round the block and nervously
+ascended the front steps. There, sure enough, were eight white cards
+popping out through the letter slot.
+
+"My goodness!" gasped Jean, "they're not _our_ cards. This one says
+'Mrs. Francis Patterson.'"
+
+"And this," said Marjory, picking up another, "says 'John D. Thomas,
+sole agent for Todd's shoes.'"
+
+"According to mine," giggled Bettie, "I'm Miss Ethel Louise Cartwright.
+What's on yours, Mabel?"
+
+"'With love from Father,'" groaned Mabel.
+
+"What in the world shall we do?" queried Jean, gathering up the
+remaining cards. "Not one of them will fit _us_."
+
+"Give them to Simmons in a bunch," suggested Marjory. "He didn't look
+at the last lot, so perhaps he won't now."
+
+So the girls, gathering what courage they could, touched the bell,
+presented their odd assortment of cards to Simmons--who almost
+succeeded in not looking astonished at seeing the callers again so
+soon--and were ushered into the reception room.
+
+Such a sedate Henrietta advanced to meet them! Such a dignified, but
+charming old lady rose to shake hands all around! Such a sheepish
+quartette of visitors perched on the extreme edge of the nearest four
+chairs! Mrs. Slater smiled encouragingly; but Henrietta, from her post
+behind her grandmother's chair, displayed every sign of abject terror.
+
+"We--we came to call," faltered Jean.
+
+"That was pleasant," responded Mrs. Slater. "You are just in time to
+have some tea. Midge, will you please ring for Greta? I'm very glad you
+came, for I wanted my granddaughter to meet some of the young people."
+
+Mrs. Slater, her slender, beringed fingers moving daintily among the
+cups, made the tea. Henrietta, in absolute silence and much subdued in
+manner, passed the cups, the delicate sandwiches and the little frosted
+tea cakes.
+
+"Midge," demanded Mrs. Slater, turning suddenly to her granddaughter,
+"what in the world is the matter with you? You haven't said a word for
+fifteen minutes. I never knew you to be still for so long a time."
+
+"It's my conscience," groaned Henrietta, dolefully. "I'm in another
+scrape."
+
+"What have you done now?" asked Mrs. Slater, who seemed very much less
+terrifying than the girls had expected to find her. "Confession is good
+for the soul, my dear."
+
+Henrietta's infectious laugh gurgled out suddenly and merrily.
+
+"I've frightened four girls almost into spasms," said she. "You see,
+Grannie, I told them that they'd _have_ to call formally if they wanted
+me to visit them. When they came you were out, so I took them upstairs,
+gave them things to eat and a jolly good time, generally. Then, just
+for a joke, I had Greta tell me when you were coming and I led them
+carefully down the back way, made them go round the block and do it all
+over again, cards and all. You see, Grannie, they don't know you. They
+haven't seen anything but your husk; and I had them scared blue; didn't
+I, girls?"
+
+"Midge, you shouldn't have done it," reproved Mrs. Slater, whose black
+eyes, however, were sparkling with only half-suppressed merriment.
+"That wasn't quite a courteous way to treat your guests!"
+
+"Forgive me," pleaded Henrietta, flopping down on her knees and looking
+the very picture of penitence. "Walk on me, Jean. Wipe your shoes on
+me, Bettie. I grovel at your feet--at _every_body's feet."
+
+"Don't grovel too hard in that dress," warned Mrs. Slater.
+
+"Am I forgiven?" implored Henrietta, gathering up her ruffles with
+elaborate care.
+
+The girls were not certain. Their pride had been injured and they eyed
+Henrietta doubtfully.
+
+"When you've known Midge as long as I have," said Mrs. Slater, "you'll
+discover that she is really too tender-hearted to hurt a fly. But
+you'll also discover that she never misses an opportunity to play
+pranks on every soul she loves. It's a symbol of her favor. She will
+never tell you an untruth, she is too honorable to practise downright
+deceit; but depend on it, girls, she will fool you until you won't
+believe your own ears. And she's always sorry, afterwards. She spends
+half her time apologizing."
+
+"Ah, _do_ forgive," pleaded extravagant Henrietta, suddenly extending
+imploring hands. "I mean it, truly. It _wasn't_ nice of me."
+
+Jean, stooping suddenly, kissed the upturned lips.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Jean, genuinely surprised, "I didn't know I was going
+to do that."
+
+"She gets around everybody," said Mrs. Slater, "and the worst of it is
+she's so good and so naughty that you'll never know whether you like
+her or not."
+
+"Why, Grannie!" exclaimed Henrietta, "don't _you_ know?"
+
+"I know that I like you," said the old lady, smiling fondly at pretty,
+whimsical Henrietta, "but you know very well that I also regard you
+with strong disapproval. I consider you a very faulty young person."
+
+"You're a dear Grannie," breathed Henrietta, kissing the old lady's
+delicate hand, "but I'm quite sure you're spoiling me; isn't she,
+Bettie?"
+
+"Were you like Henrietta," queried Jean, "when you were young?"
+
+"My dear, you've found me out," laughed Mrs. Slater. "I was just such
+a piece of impishness; but my father was very severe, and I think I
+began earlier to restrain my prankishness. Midge, unfortunately, has
+a lenient father and a doting grandmother. Between them she is having
+pretty much her own way."
+
+"I'll be good," promised Henrietta, comically, "in spite of them; but
+you see, girls, with such a pair of relatives dogging my footsteps,
+it's uphill work."
+
+After a little more conversation, the girls rose to depart. Mrs. Slater
+begged them to come again. She said that she enjoyed young people. Then
+the big front door was closed behind them and the dreaded visit was
+over.
+
+"So," said Marjory, "_that's_ what Mrs. Slater is like inside."
+
+Mabel, unable to bear them longer, was recklessly peeling off her
+lemon-colored gloves.
+
+"She's lovely, inside and out," declared Bettie, "but I never dreamed
+that she was like _that_."
+
+"She wouldn't have cared if I _had_ gone without gloves," mourned
+aggrieved Mabel. "I'd like to pay Henrietta back for _that_."
+
+"Girls," asked Marjory, "do you _like_ Henrietta?"
+
+"I adore her," declared Jean.
+
+"I _think_ I like her," said Bettie.
+
+"I know _I_ don't," asserted Mabel, waving her throbbing hands in the
+evening breeze to cool them.
+
+"I do and I don't," said Marjory. "I admire her, but she makes me
+uncomfortable. I feel as if she were just playing with me."
+
+"She seems more than fourteen," murmured Jean, dreamily.
+
+"That's because she's traveled so much," explained Bettie.
+
+"She's like the big opal in Mother's ring," mused imaginative Jean.
+"One moment all warm and sparkly, the next, all cold and quiet."
+
+"And you never know," supplemented Marjory, "which way it's going to
+be."
+
+"I like folks that are downright bad or good," said Mabel, crossly.
+"Burglars ought to be burglars and ministers ought to be ministers and
+they all ought to be marked so you can tell 'em apart; else, how are
+you going to?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+The Call Returned
+
+
+THE following Saturday, the girls carried their Christmas sewing to
+Jean's. The sewing had not reached a very exciting stage, so tongues
+moved faster than fingers. Mabel was still working on a shoe-bag for
+her father but, owing to some misadventure, one of the two compartments
+was several sizes larger than the other. Mabel regarded this difference
+with disapproval until comforting Jean came to the rescue.
+
+"Perhaps," suggested Jean, "there's a difference in the size of your
+father's feet."
+
+"Oh, there is," cried Mabel, gleefully. "His right shoe is always
+tighter than the left."
+
+"But," objected quick-witted Marjory, "it isn't his feet that are going
+into that bag. It's his shoes, and they're the same size."
+
+"Oh," groaned Mabel, settling into a disconsolate heap, "that's so."
+
+"Never mind," said Bettie. "Give me the bag, and I'll fix those
+pockets."
+
+Bettie was embroidering an elaborate pincushion for her mother, but she
+stopped so often to help the others that there seemed small hope of its
+ever getting finished. Marjory, who was making one just like it for her
+Aunty Jane, was progressing much more rapidly.
+
+Jean, rummaging in her work-bag, was trying to decide which of four
+partly completed articles to sew on when a carriage stopped at Mrs.
+Mapes's gate.
+
+"It's a caller," said Jean. "We'll have to vacate. Here, scurry into
+the dining-room with all your stuff. I'll answer the bell; and you,
+Bettie, remind Mother to take off her apron--she's apt to forget it."
+
+Jean, stopping long enough to twitch the chairs into place, went primly
+to the door.
+
+"Good-morning," said a familiar voice, "I've come to return your
+visit. It's all right, James. You needn't wait."
+
+"Come back, girls," called Jean, when she had ushered the caller in.
+"It's Henrietta."
+
+"What luck!" cried Henrietta, pulling off her gloves. "Now I can
+make a long, long call instead of four short ones. What are you
+doing--Christmas presents? Give me a spool of fine white thread, some
+pins and a sofa pillow. I'm going to make one, too."
+
+"Take off your things," said Jean, smilingly.
+
+Henrietta wriggled out of her jacket and tossed her hat on the couch.
+
+"What is it going to be?" asked Bettie, watching the merry visitor's
+deft fingers fly to and fro.
+
+"Lace," returned Henrietta. "I learned to make it in France. Of course
+these aren't the right materials for very fine lace, but I can make an
+edge for a pincushion or a mat. I like to do things with my fingers."
+
+"Can you draw?" asked Bettie.
+
+"A little," returned Henrietta, modestly, "but you mustn't tell Miss
+Rossitor, or she'll have _me_ doing cows and pigs and roosters."
+
+"What grade do you belong in?" asked Jean.
+
+"None," laughed the visitor, arranging the pins in what looked like
+a very intricate pattern. "I couldn't be graded. I'm having Domestic
+Science under the Methodist church, Senior Latin in the Council
+Chamber, Post-graduate French in a cloak-room off the A. O. U. W. Hall,
+Sophomore American History with the Baptists, and I'm doing mathematics
+in the kindergarten--or somewhere down there. I had to go back to the
+very beginning. If I ever tell you anything with numbers in it don't
+believe it. I don't know six from six hundred. But I'm doing lessons in
+five different buildings and getting lots of exercise besides. That's
+doing pretty well for my first year in school."
+
+"Your first year!" cried Marjory. "Surely you're fooling!"
+
+"Not this time," assured Henrietta. "I've had governesses and tutors
+ever since I could think, but this is truly my first school year. And
+it's great fun. But if I stay in America, I'm to go to boarding school,
+Grandmother says. I've always wanted to, and Grannie thinks it will be
+good for me to be with other girls. You see, I've always lived with
+grown folks, so I need to renew my youth."
+
+"Mother's been reading the boarding-school advertisements in the
+magazines lately," said Mabel. "I heard her read some of them aloud to
+Father. But of course they couldn't have been thinking about _me_. But
+they sounded interesting."
+
+"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "they had read all the stories and those
+boarding schools were all they had left to read."
+
+"I guess so," said Mabel.
+
+"Aunt Jane reads them, too," added Marjory. "There's some money that is
+to be used for my education and for nothing else. When I've finished
+with High School I'm to go to College."
+
+"Oh well," laughed, Jean, lightly, "you're safe for another five years."
+
+"_I_'m not," returned Henrietta. "I'm going next September, and if
+Grandmother had known how the schools were going to be you wouldn't be
+having the pleasure of my company now. She says I'm getting thin in the
+pursuit of knowledge--it's too scattered, in Lakeville. That's why she
+made me ride to-day."
+
+"Look!" cried Mabel, her eyes bulging with astonishment. "She's really
+making lace!"
+
+"It's for you," said Henrietta, flashing a bright glance at
+Mabel. "It's an apology, Mam'selle, for my past--and perhaps my
+future--misdeeds."
+
+"I _said_ I didn't like you," blurted honest Mabel, "but I do."
+
+"Don't depend on me," sighed Henrietta. "I don't wear well. You'll find
+the real me rubbing through in spots. Granny says I'm an imp that came
+in one of Dad's Hindoo boxes."
+
+"Why does your grandmother call you Midge?" asked Bettie.
+
+"Because she doesn't like Henrietta. You see, I have five names--they
+do that sort of thing on the other side--and I take turns with them.
+When I find out which one suits me best, I'll choose that one for
+keeps."
+
+"What are they?" demanded Mabel.
+
+"Henrietta Constance Louise Frederika Francesca--you see, there isn't
+a really suitable name in the lot. But when you have five quarrelsome
+aunts, as Father had, you have to please all or none of them by giving
+your poor helpless baby all their horrid names. Call me Sallie--I've
+_always_ wanted to be Sallie."
+
+"Think of anybody," laughed Jean, "with as many names as that wanting a
+new one."
+
+"Where's that baby you adopted?" asked Henrietta, abruptly changing the
+subject. "Didn't one of you adopt a baby or something like that?"
+
+"It was Mabel," replied Marjory. "The rest of us are pretty good, but
+Mabel's sort of thoughtless about borrowing things. She just happened
+to borrow an unreturnable baby, one day."
+
+"Where is it now?"
+
+"At Mr. Black's. Her name is Rosa Marie."
+
+"I'd like to see her," said Henrietta, carefully moving a pin.
+
+"Stay to luncheon," urged Jean. "Father's away, so there'll be plenty
+of room. Afterwards we can all pay a visit to Rosa Marie."
+
+"I'm afraid," said Marjory, "she's getting to be a burden to Mrs.
+Crane."
+
+"Yes," agreed Bettie, "but it isn't Rosa Marie's fault. Mrs. Crane has
+been reading a lot of books about bringing up children--you know she
+never had any. Before she discovered how many things _might_ happen
+to a baby she was quite comfortable; but now she's always certain that
+Rosa Marie is coming down with something."
+
+"And she doesn't seem very bright," mourned Jean.
+
+"Who--Mrs. Crane?"
+
+"No, Rosa Marie. You see, we don't know exactly how old she is--Mabel
+didn't think to ask--but she seems big enough to be lots smarter than
+she is. We're rather disappointed in her."
+
+"I'm not," protested Mabel, loyally. "She's just slow because she
+hasn't any little brothers and sisters. She's a _dear_ child."
+
+"Cheer up, Mabel," soothed Henrietta. "As long as she's beautiful she
+doesn't need to be bright."
+
+At this, Marjory looked at Jean, then at Bettie, and smiled an odd,
+significant smile. Here was a chance to get even with Henrietta; and,
+unconsciously, Mabel helped.
+
+"She's beautiful to me," said Mabel, "and she's ever so cunning."
+
+"What color are her eyes?"
+
+"Dark," said Marjory. "Darker than yours."
+
+"Then she's a brunette?"
+
+"Ye-es," said Marjory, as if considering the question. "She's darker,
+at least, than I am."
+
+"We all are," said Henrietta, with an admiring glance at Marjory's
+golden locks. "We seem to shade down gradually. Mabel comes next, then
+Jean, then Bettie; I'm the darkest, because Bettie's eyes are like
+brown velvet, but mine are black, like bits of hard coal. Where does
+Rosa Marie come in?"
+
+"I think," said Marjory, with an air of pondering deeply, "that Rosa
+Marie is almost, if not quite, as dark as you; even darker, perhaps.
+But her hair isn't as curly."
+
+"Dear little soul," breathed Henrietta, tenderly. "I've a tremendous
+liking for babies, but they're pretty scarce at our house. But there
+was one in England that was--Oh, if I could just see that English baby
+_now_! Wouldn't I just hug her!"
+
+Henrietta's eyes were unwontedly tender, her expression unusually sweet.
+
+"You're not a bit like you've been any of the other times," observed
+Bettie. "I like you a lot better when you're like this."
+
+"I'm not myself to-day," twinkled Henrietta. "I'm Sallie--just plain
+Sallie. But beware of me when I'm Frederika, the Disguised Duchess.
+_That's_ when I'm not to be trusted."
+
+"I think," said Jean, listening to some faraway sound, "that lunch is
+about ready."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Henrietta. "The sooner it's over, the sooner I can
+hug that darling baby. It's months since I've held one in my arms--the
+dear little body."
+
+"You'll find----" began Mabel; but the other three promptly headed her
+off before she had time to explain that Rosa Marie was a pretty big
+armful.
+
+"It's time to go home," exclaimed Marjory and Bettie, in chorus. "Come
+on, Mabel."
+
+"If you'll excuse me," said Jean, speaking directly to Mabel, "I'll go
+set a place for Henrietta. Sorry I can't ask everybody to stay; but
+come back at two o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Getting Even
+
+
+LUNCHEON at Jean's that day proved a lively affair, for both boys were
+home; Henrietta chatted as frankly and as merrily as if she had known
+them all her life. Wallace, who was shy, squirmed uneasily at first and
+kept his eyes on his plate; but Roger, who had encountered the visitor
+in his French class, was able to respond to her friendly chatter.
+
+"I like boys," asserted Henrietta, frankly, "but I haven't any
+belonging to me but one and he's a horrid muff--sixteen and a regular
+baby. He's my cousin."
+
+"I thought you liked babies," laughed Jean.
+
+"I do, but not that kind. He's been molly-coddled until it makes you
+sick to look at him."
+
+"Trot him out," offered Roger. "I'll give him an antidote."
+
+"He's in England," said Henrietta, "and I hope he'll stay there. He
+hasn't any idea of doing anything for himself; he's always talking
+about what he'll do when somebody else does such and such a thing for
+him."
+
+"You mean," said Roger, "he hasn't any American independence."
+
+"That's it," agreed Henrietta. "He'd have made a nice pink-and-white
+girl, but he's no use at all as a boy."
+
+"How dark it's getting," said Jean. "I can hardly see my plate."
+
+"I think," prophesied Wallace, breaking his long silence, "that it's
+going to snow. The sky's been a little thick for three days; when it
+comes we'll get a lot."
+
+"Goody!" cried Henrietta, "I've never seen a real Lake Superior
+snowstorm and I want to. So far all the snow we've had has come in the
+night. I want to _see_ it snow."
+
+"You wouldn't," growled Wallace, "if you had to shovel several tons of
+it off your sidewalk."
+
+"Will it snow very soon?" queried Henrietta, eagerly.
+
+"Probably not before dark," returned Wallace, turning to glance at the
+dull sky. "It's only getting ready."
+
+Enthusiastic Henrietta, that odd mixture of extreme youth and premature
+age, was all impatience to see Rosa Marie. She had telephoned her
+grandmother to ask permission to spend the day with her new friends,
+and now she was eager to add Rosa Marie to the list. It was easy to see
+that she was expecting to behold something very choice in the line of
+babies. Jean was tempted to undeceive her, but loyalty to Marjory kept
+her silent.
+
+"A baby," breathed Henrietta, rapturously, "is the loveliest thing
+in all the world. _Isn't_ it most two o'clock? Wait, I'll look at my
+watch--Mercy! I forgot to wind it!"
+
+"Hark!" said Jean, "I think I hear the girls. Yes, I do."
+
+"Get on your things," commanded Marjory, opening the door. "Bettie
+stopped to feed the cat, sew a button on Dick, wash Peter's face, tie
+up her father's finger and hook her mother's dress, but she's here at
+last and we're to pick up Mabel on the way because Dr. Bennett called
+her back to wash her face."
+
+"We mustn't stay too long," warned Jean, glancing at the dull sky. "It
+looks as if it would get dark early."
+
+Mrs. Crane was glad to see her visitors and appeared delighted to add a
+new girl to her collection of youthful friends.
+
+"You and Jean are just of a size," said she.
+
+"And about the same age," added Bettie, who had always regretted the
+two years' difference in her age and Jean's. "I wish _I_ were as old as
+that."
+
+"Aren't you afraid," blundered well-meaning Mrs. Crane, turning to
+Bettie, "that she'll cut you out? You and Jean have always been as
+thick as thieves. Don't you let this pretty Henrietta steal your Jean
+away from you."
+
+Bettie, dear little unselfish soul, had hitherto been conscious of
+no such fear, but now her big brown eyes were troubled. This new
+possibility was alarming.
+
+"We'd like to see Rosa Marie," said Marjory. "Is she well?"
+
+"She has a bad cold," returned Mrs. Crane, shaking her head,
+sorrowfully. "I've just been looking through my books, and in the very
+first one I found more than twenty-five fatal diseases that begin with
+a bad cold."
+
+"Didn't you find _any_ that folks ever get over?" suggested Jean,
+comfortingly.
+
+"Why, yes," replied Mrs. Crane, brightening. "I've known of folks
+pulling through at least twenty-four of them. But there's one thing.
+You won't like Rosa Marie's clothes to-day. They're--they're sort of
+an accident."
+
+"An accident?" questioned Bettie. "What happened?"
+
+"Why, you see, I ordered her a ready-made dress out of a catalogue. It
+sounded very promising but--Well, it's _warm_, but I guess that's about
+all you can say for it. I'll take you to the nursery; I have to keep
+her out of drafts."
+
+Rosa Marie, well and becomingly clad, would hardly have captured a
+prize in a beauty show, even with very little competition. Poor little
+Rosa Marie, suffering with a severe cold, appeared a most unlovable
+object. Her eyes were dull and all but invisible, her nose and lips
+were red and swollen and her wide mouth seemed even larger than usual.
+The catalogue dress was more than an accident; it was an out and out
+calamity. Its gorgeous red and green plaid was marked off like a city
+map in regular squares with a startling stripe of yellow. Moreover,
+the alarming garment was a distressingly tight fit.
+
+"It looked," sighed Mrs. Crane, apologetically, "as pretty as you
+please in that book; but of course nobody would _think_ of buying such
+goods as that _outside_ a catalogue. But Rosa Marie liked it."
+
+After the first glance, however, the Cottagers did not look at Rosa
+Marie or the hideous plaid. They gazed instead at Henrietta's speaking
+countenance. Having led their new friend to expect something entirely
+different in the way of infantile charms, they wanted to enjoy her
+surprise; but strangely enough they did not. It was evident that
+something was wrong with their plan.
+
+The bright, expectant look faded suddenly from the sparkling black
+eyes. All the animation fled swiftly from the girlish countenance. Two
+large tears rolled down Henrietta's cheeks.
+
+"Oh," she mourned, "I was _so_ lonely for a real, dear little baby."
+
+"Dear me," sighed penitent Jean, "we thought you'd enjoy the joke. We
+saw at once that you supposed that Rosa Marie was an ordinary child--a
+nice little pink and white creature in long clothes. It seemed such a
+good chance to get even that we----"
+
+"It was my fault," apologized Marjory. "I _tried_ to fool you. I never
+thought you'd _care_."
+
+"I'm sorry," said offended Mabel, stiffly, "that you don't like Rosa
+Marie. She's much more interesting than a common baby, and I think,
+when I picked her out----"
+
+"It isn't that," said Henrietta, smiling through her tears. "You see,
+I had a baby cousin in England that I just hated to leave--Oh, the
+sweetest, daintiest little-girl baby--and she'll be all grown up and
+gone before I ever see her again. I simply adored that baby."
+
+"Never mind," soothed Bettie, generously. "We've any number of real
+babies at our house and three of them are small enough to cuddle. And
+even the littlest one is big enough to be played with."
+
+"What an accommodating family," said Henrietta, wiping her eyes. "I
+guess they'll make up for this remarkable infant."
+
+"Rosa Marie certainly isn't looking her best to-day," admitted Jean,
+"but you'll really find her very interesting when you know her better.
+But she never does appeal to strangers--we've found _that_ out."
+
+"And just now," said Bettie, "she's surely a sight; but when you've
+seen her in the cunning little Indian costume that Mr. Black bought for
+her you'll really like her."
+
+"Perhaps," said Henrietta, doubtfully.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A Full Afternoon
+
+
+"NOW," said Mrs. Crane, with a note of pride in her tone, "I want
+to show you what Peter Black's been doing _this_ time. It's in the
+library."
+
+The interested girls followed Mrs. Crane into the cozy, book-lined
+room. Mr. Black's purchases were apt to be worth seeing, for, now that
+he had a family after so many years of solitude, he was spending his
+money lavishly. And he delighted in surprising his elderly sister with
+unusual gifts.
+
+"There," said Mrs. Crane, pointing to a square cabinet of polished
+wood. "What do you think of that! Can you guess what it is?"
+
+"I think," replied Jean, "it's a cupboard for your very prettiest
+tea-cups--the ones that are too nice to use."
+
+"_I_ think," said Marjory, "that it's a fire-proof safe to keep Rosa
+Marie's plaid dress in, so it won't set the house afire."
+
+"I guess," said Bettie, "it's some sort of a refrigerator to use on
+Sundays only."
+
+"It looks to me," ventured Mabel, "like a cage with a monkey in it.
+I've seen them in processions, only they were fancier."
+
+"I _know_ what it is," said Henrietta, "because we have one like it,
+but ours isn't as nice as this."
+
+"Now turn your backs," requested Mrs. Crane.
+
+In another moment the girls were listening to a delightful concert.
+Wonderful music was pouring from the polished cabinet.
+
+"I was the nearest right," asserted Mabel.
+
+"Why!" objected Bettie, "you said it was a monkey--monkeys don't sing."
+
+"I was right, just the same. It's a hand organ, and everybody knows
+that a monkey's pretty near the same thing."
+
+The girls laughed, for Mabel, who was usually wrong, always insisted
+obstinately that she was right.
+
+"It's a phonograph," explained Henrietta, "and the very best one I ever
+heard."
+
+"It's a whole brass band," breathed Bettie.
+
+"I knew it was good," said Mrs. Crane, contentedly, "for Peter refused
+to tell what he paid for it."
+
+It took a long time for the phonograph to give up all that was inside
+its polished case, and before the entertainment was quite over Mr.
+Black came in.
+
+Bettie, eager to display her new acquaintance, hardly waited to greet
+him before introducing Henrietta. It was a pleasure, as well as a
+novelty, to have so attractive a friend to present.
+
+"This," said Bettie, proudly but a little flustered, "is my hen,
+Frenriet--I mean, my hen----"
+
+Bettie turned scarlet and stopped. The girls shrieked with delight.
+Mrs. Crane laughed till she cried. Mr. Black's roars of laughter
+drowned the phonograph's best effort.
+
+"I'm _not_ your hen," giggled Henrietta. "Not even your chicken. This
+settles _that_ name--I can't risk being mistaken for any more poultry."
+
+"She's Henrietta Bedford," explained Jean, wiping her eyes.
+
+"And how long," teased Mr. Black, "have you been keeping poultry, Miss
+Bettykins?"
+
+"About two weeks," giggled Bettie. "She's Mrs. Slater's granddaughter."
+
+"I don't like to seem inhospitable," said Mr. Black, a few moments
+later, "but it's beginning to snow, and the weather's going to be a
+good deal worse before it gets any better. If you start now, you'll be
+home before the snow begins to drift--there's a strong north wind and
+the thermometer's a bit down-hearted."
+
+The girls had removed their wraps and it took time to get into them.
+Also, Mrs. Crane, noticing that the girls were dressed for mild
+weather, detained them while she hunted up a silk handkerchief to wrap
+about Marjory's throat, a veil to tie over Bettie's ears and some
+warmer gloves for Jean. Henrietta and Mabel refused to be bundled up.
+
+The outside air was many degrees colder than it had been two hours
+earlier, and was full of flying snow. The wind came in gusts, yet there
+was something bracing and stimulating about the stirring atmosphere,
+particularly to Henrietta.
+
+"Oh!" cried she, "this is fine! Why can't we take a long walk? It's a
+shame to hurry home. I just love this. Isn't there somebody we can go
+to see? Hasn't anybody an errand?"
+
+"Ye-es," said Mabel, doubtfully. "We could go down to Mrs. Malony's.
+Mother told me this morning to get her bill, and I forgot all about it."
+
+"Mabel always has a few forgotten errands laid away," teased Marjory.
+"She can show you, too, where she found Rosa Marie--it's down that way."
+
+"I hope," said Henrietta, making a comical grimace, "that there's no
+danger of finding any more like her. But let's go. It's a shame to miss
+any of this."
+
+Going down the long hill toward Mrs. Malony's was entirely delightful,
+for the wind, of which there was a great deal, was at their
+well-protected backs; they fairly scudded before it, laughing joyously
+as they were swept along almost on a run. Going westward at the bottom
+of the hill was not so very bad either, for here the road was somewhat
+sheltered, though the snow was much deeper than the girls had expected
+to find it.
+
+Mrs. Malony, the garrulous egg-woman, was at home; she expressed her
+surprise and delight at the advent of so many unexpected visitors.
+
+"'Tis mesilf thot's glad to see so manny purty faces," said she,
+flying about to find chairs. "'Tis the lovely complexion you have
+to-day, Miss Jean. An' who's the little lady wid the rosy cheek? The
+gran'choild av Mrs. Lady Slater--wud ye hark to thot now! An' how's
+Bettie darlin' wid all her purty smiles? Thot's good--thot's good. An'
+Miss Mabel here--sure she's the fat wan----"
+
+"Mother," explained Mabel, with dignity, "would like her egg-bill."
+
+"Bill, is ut?" replied Mrs. Malony, graciously. "Sure there's no hurry
+at all, at all. The sooner it comes the sooner 'tis spint. Ah, well, if
+you're afther insistin' [no one _had_ insisted] joost count the banes
+in me owld taypot. Ivery wan stands fer wan dozen eggs at twinty-foive
+cints the dozen."
+
+"Thirteen beans," announced Jean, who had counted them several times to
+make certain.
+
+"Sure," persuaded smooth-tongued Mrs. Malony, "you'd best be takin' wan
+more dozen, Miss Mabel. 'Twould be sore unlucky to stop wid t'irteen."
+
+While she was counting the eggs, Mr. Malony, redolent of the stable and
+bearing two steaming pails of milk, came into the kitchen. Mrs. Malony,
+beaming with hospitality, went hastily to the cupboard, brought forth
+five exceedingly thick cups, filled them with milk and passed them to
+her dismayed guests.
+
+Some persons like warm milk, fresh from the cow, with the cow-smell
+overshadowing all other flavors. Mrs. Malony's visitors did not. They
+were too polite to say so, however, so there they sat, five martyrs
+to courtesy, sipping the distasteful milk. It clogged their throats,
+it made them feel queerly upset inside, but still, solely out of
+politeness, they continued to sip.
+
+"Take bigger swallows," advised Mabel, in a smothered whisper.
+
+"I cuk--can't," breathed Bettie.
+
+Mr. Malony had left the room. Presently, Mrs. Malony, in search of a
+basket for the eggs, stooped to rummage in the untidy recess beneath
+the cupboard. Quick as a wink, Henrietta emptied her cup into the
+original pail, but the other unfortunates were left to struggle with
+their unwelcome refreshment. Henrietta, however, gained nothing by her
+trick, for the egg-woman, discovering that her cup was empty, promptly
+refilled it, much to the amusement of the other victims.
+
+Henrietta, discovering their state of mind, was moved to defiance.
+Lifting her cup, with a determined glint in her black eyes, she drank
+every drop in four courageous, continuous gulps. In a twinkling, the
+other girls had imitated her example and were declining Mrs. Malony's
+pressing offer of more milk.
+
+"Joost a wee sup," pleaded Mrs. Malony, reaching for Jean's cup.
+
+"No, thank you," said Jean, rising hastily. "We ought to be getting
+home."
+
+Getting home, however, proved a different matter from getting away from
+home. After escaping Mrs. Malony's insistent hospitality, the girls
+waded across the snowy street and out toward the point to see if Rosa
+Marie's home were still there. The door hung from one hinge and snow
+had drifted, and was still drifting, in at the doorway.
+
+"Do you think," asked Henrietta, gazing at the deserted house, "that
+Rosa Marie's mother will ever come back?"
+
+"No," returned Jean.
+
+"Not to any such homely baby as that," declared Marjory.
+
+"She _will_ come back," asserted Mabel, loyally. "She loved Rosa
+Marie--I saw it in her eyes."
+
+"Looks don't matter, with mothers," soothed Bettie. "A cat likes a
+homely yellow kitten as well as a lovely white one. And Dick has more
+freckles than Bob, but Mother likes him just as well."
+
+"Rosa Marie's mother stood right in that doorway," said Mabel, "and, as
+long as I could see her, her eyes were stretching out after Rosa Marie."
+
+"They must have stuck out on pegs like a lobster's," giggled Henrietta,
+"by the time you reached the corner."
+
+"I think you're _mean_," muttered Mabel.
+
+"I repent," apologized Henrietta. "For a moment I relapsed into
+Frederika, the Disguised Duchess; but now I'm your own kind-hearted
+Sallie and I wish that my toes were as warm as my affections. Let's
+start for civilization--we seem to have the world to ourselves. Doesn't
+anybody else like snow, I wonder?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+Taking a Walk
+
+
+"PHEW!" gasped Jean, wheeling as the north wind, sweeping round the
+corner, caught her square in the face. "I don't think much of that!
+It's like ice."
+
+"Ugh!" groaned Marjory, "I wish I'd stayed home."
+
+"Mercy!" gulped Henrietta, "it's blowing my skin off."
+
+After that, no one had very much to say. The girls needed their breath
+for other purposes. With heads down and jackets pulled tightly about
+them, they started up the long hill with the wind in their faces. It
+was not a pleasant wind. Cold and cutting, it flung icy particles of
+snow against their cheeks, nipped their unprotected ears, stung their
+fingers and found the thin places in their garments. It rushed down
+their throats when they opened their mouths to speak, wrapped their
+petticoats so tightly about them that they had to keep unwinding
+themselves in order to walk at all, heaped the whirling snow in drifts
+and filled the air so full of flakes that it was only between gusts
+that the houses were visible. Worst of all, the way was very much
+uphill, and Mabel, besides being short of breath, was burdened with
+the basket of eggs. The snow seemed to take a delight in piling itself
+directly in front of them.
+
+"Ugh!" gasped Henrietta, "I wish my stockings were fur-lined. They
+thawed out in Mrs. Malony's and now they're frozen stiff. I don't like
+'em."
+
+"Mine, too," panted Mabel.
+
+"And all my skirts," groaned Marjory. "The edges are like saws and
+they're scraping my knees."
+
+"How do you like a real storm?" queried Jean, steering Henrietta
+through a mighty drift.
+
+"Not so well as I thought I should," admitted Henrietta. "I miss my
+blizzard clothes."
+
+The streets, when the girls finally reached the top of the hill, were
+deserted. Even the sides of the houses looked like solid walls of snow,
+for the wind had hurled the big flakes in gigantic handfuls against the
+buildings until they were all nicely coated with a thick frosting; and
+so, all the world was white. And, by the time the five girls reached
+Jean's house, for they finally accomplished that difficult feat, they,
+too, were nicely plastered from head to heels with the clinging snow.
+They looked like animated snow men as they piled thankfully into Mrs.
+Mapes's parlor.
+
+The girls themselves were warm and glowing from the unusual exercise,
+but their stockings and cotton skirts were frozen stiff.
+
+"Henrietta will simply have to stay all night," said Mrs. Mapes,
+discovering the wet stockings. "I sent the coachman home half an hour
+ago for the sake of the horses. I'll telephone Mrs. Slater that you're
+safe. You other girls must go home at once and change your clothes
+before they thaw. And, Jean, you and Henrietta must get into bed at
+once. I'll bring you a hot supper inside of five minutes."
+
+"That'll be fun," declared Jean, seizing Henrietta's hand and making
+for the stairs. "Good-night, girls."
+
+"I guess," said Marjory, when the Mapes's door had closed behind
+Bettie, Mabel and herself, "Jean and Henrietta are going to be great
+chums."
+
+"I'm afraid so," sighed Bettie. "I like Henrietta; but, dear me, I
+don't want Jean to like her better than she does me."
+
+"She won't," comforted Marjory. "Henrietta's all right for a little
+while at a time, but you're _always_ nice."
+
+Thanks to Mrs. Mapes's instructions, none of the girls caught cold; but
+their mothers were so afraid that they might that not one of them was
+permitted to poke her nose out of doors the next day. To Henrietta's
+delight, the drifts reached the fence tops; and, until a huge plow,
+drawn by six horses arranged in pairs, had cleared the way, the roads
+were impassable. The wind, after raging furiously all night, had
+quieted down; but the snow continued to fall in big, soft, clinging
+flakes, every tree and shrub was weighted down with a heavy burden and
+all the world was white. To Henrietta, who had never before seen snow
+in such abundance, it was a most pleasing spectacle.
+
+Bettie, however, was sorely troubled. There was Jean shut in with
+attractive Henrietta and getting "chummier" with her every minute.
+There was Bettie, a solitary prisoner in a fuzzy red wrapper and bed
+slippers, sighing for her beloved Jean. To be sure, Bettie had brothers
+of assorted sizes and complexions, but not one of them could fill
+Jean's place in Bettie's troubled affections.
+
+Had Bettie but known it, however, Jean was not having an entirely
+comfortable day. It happened to be one of Henrietta's "Frederika"
+days. The lively girl tormented bashful Wallace by pretending that
+she herself was excessively shy, and, as shyness was not one of her
+attributes, her victim was covered with confusion. She teased and
+bewildered Roger by chattering so rapidly in French that he couldn't
+understand a word she said, although he had studied the language for
+three years under Miss McGinnis and was proud of his progress. A number
+of times she became so witty at Jean's expense that "Sallie" had to
+rush to the rescue with profuse apologies. Also, she disturbed both Mr.
+and Mrs. Mapes by her extreme restlessness.
+
+"My sakes," confided Mrs. Mapes, in the privacy of the kitchen, whither
+she had fled for the sake of quiet, "I'm glad that girl doesn't belong
+to me; she isn't still a minute."
+
+"Perhaps," said Roger, who had escaped on the pretext of blacking his
+shoes, "it's because she has traveled so much. Maybe she feels as if
+she had to keep going."
+
+"Bettie's certainly a great deal quieter," agreed Jean, who looked
+tired, "and she doesn't talk all night when a body wants to sleep; but
+Henrietta's more fun. You see, you never know what she's going to do
+next, but Bettie's always just the same."
+
+At dinner time that day, Mrs. Mapes asked her husband if he knew
+whether the School Board had accomplished anything at the meeting held
+the night previously.
+
+"No," replied Mr. Mapes, a tall, thin man with a preoccupied air.
+"And they never will as long as each one of them wants to put that
+schoolhouse in a different place. They can't come to any sort of an
+agreement."
+
+Indeed, the poor School Board was having a perplexing time. The
+citizens that lived at the north end of the town wanted the new school
+built there. Other tax-payers declared that the southern portion of
+Lakeville, being more densely populated, offered a more suitable site.
+Then, since the town stretched westward for a long distance, a third
+group of persons were clamoring for the building in _their_ part of the
+town. Besides all these, there were persons who declared that the old
+site was the _only_ place for a school building. As the Board itself
+was divided as to opinion, it began to look as if Lakeville would have
+to get along without a schoolhouse unless it could afford to build
+four, and the tax-payers said it couldn't do that.
+
+"I wish," said Mrs. Mapes, "that I could find a first-class girls'
+school within a reasonable distance. If they don't have a proper
+building in Lakeville by next September I'll send Jean away. That
+Baptist cellar is damp, and I know it. Besides, I went to a good
+boarding school myself and I'd like Jean to have the experience--I'll
+never forget those days."
+
+"Send her," suggested Henrietta, "to the school I'm going to."
+
+"Which one is that?" asked Mrs. Mapes.
+
+"I don't know; but Grandmother says it mustn't be too far away. She
+wants me within reach."
+
+"I think," said Mrs. Mapes, reflectively, "I'll send for some
+catalogues."
+
+The next morning the sun shone brightly on a glittering world.
+Henrietta went into ecstasies over it, for even the tree trunks seemed
+incrusted with diamonds--or at least rhine-stones, Henrietta said. The
+coachman arrived with the Slater horses a little before nine o'clock
+and the two girls were carried off to school in state. They waved their
+hands to Bettie as they passed her trudging in the snow; and poor
+Bettie was suddenly conscious of a sharp twinge of jealousy.
+
+Now that Henrietta had been properly called on and had returned the
+call, she became a permanent part of all the Cottagers' plans.
+Thereafter, there was hardly a day when one or another of the four
+girls did not see the fascinating maid of many names. They always found
+her interesting, attractive and entertaining. Yet, there were days
+when she teased them almost to the limit of their endurance, times
+when they could not quite approve her and moments when she fairly
+roused them to anger; but, in spite of her faults, they could not
+help loving her, because, with all her impishness and her distressing
+lack of repose, she was warm-hearted, loyal and thoroughly true. And,
+although she possessed dozens of advantages that the other girls
+lacked, although she was beautifully gowned, splendidly housed and
+bountifully supplied with spending money, never did she show, in any
+way, the faintest scrap of false pride. She mentioned her life abroad,
+in a simple, matter-of-fact way (as if it were a mere incident that
+might have happened to anybody), but never in any boasting spirit. Her
+prankishness, however, kept her from being too good or too lovable;
+for, as her Grandmother said, she spared no one; sometimes even Jean,
+who was a model of patience, found it hard to forgive fun-loving
+Frederika, the Disguised Duchess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+The Statue from India
+
+
+ALL the shops in Lakeville wore a holiday air, for money was plentiful
+and trade was unusually brisk. The windows were gay with wreaths of
+holly and glittering strings of Christmas-tree ornaments. Clerks were
+busy and smiling. Customers, alert for bargains, crowded about the
+counters and parted cheerfully from their cash. Persons in the streets,
+laden with parcels of every shape, size and color, pushed eagerly
+through the doors or hurried along the busy thoroughfares. All wore
+an air of eager expectancy, for two weeks of December were gone and
+Christmas was fairly scrambling into sight.
+
+The five girls had money to spend. Very little of it, to be sure,
+belonged to the Cottagers; but Henrietta had a great deal, and,
+as they all went together on their shopping expeditions, it didn't
+matter very much, as far as enjoyment went, who did the purchasing.
+Bettie said that it was quite as much fun to help Henrietta pick out
+a five-dollar scarf pin for Simmons, the butler, as it was to choose
+ten-cent paper weights for Bob and Dick. Besides, no one was obliged
+to go home empty-handed, because it took all five to carry Henrietta's
+purchases.
+
+All five were making things besides. Sometimes they sewed at Jean's,
+sometimes at Henrietta's, occasionally at Marjory's and once in a
+while at Mabel's. They liked least of all to go to Marjory's because
+Aunty Jane, who was a wonderfully particular housekeeper, objected
+to their walking on her hardwood floors and seemed equally averse
+to having them step on the rugs. As they couldn't very well use the
+ceiling or feel entirely comfortable under the battery of Aunty Jane's
+disapproving glances, they liked to go where they were more warmly
+welcomed. Perhaps Henrietta's once-dreaded home was the most popular
+place, though in that fascinating abode they could not accomplish a
+great deal in the sewing line because Henrietta invariably produced
+such a bewildering array of unusual belongings to show them that their
+eyes kept busier than their fingers. In another way, however, they
+accomplished a great deal. Henrietta, who was really very clever with
+her needle, had started at one time or another a great many different
+articles. These, in their half-finished condition--the changeable
+girl was much better at beginning things than at completing them--she
+lavishly bestowed on her friends. Lovely flowered ribbons, dainty bits
+of silk and lace, curious scraps of Japanese and Chinese embroidery,
+embossed leather and rich brocades, all these found their way into the
+Cottagers' work-bags.
+
+Out of these fascinating odds and ends they fashioned gifts for Mrs.
+Crane, Anne Halliday's mother, their out-of-town relatives, their
+parents and their school-teachers. They wanted, of course, to buy every
+toy that ever was made for Rosa Marie, little Anne Halliday, Peter
+Tucker and the Marcotte twins; but Mr. Black, meeting them in the
+toy-shop one day, implored them to leave just a few things in the shops
+for him to buy, particularly for Rosa Marie and little Peter Tucker,
+his namesake.
+
+And now, Mabel was immensely pleased with Henrietta; for, one day, Rosa
+Marie, cured of her cold, had been dressed in her cunning little Indian
+costume for the new girl's benefit. Rosa Marie had looked so very much
+more attractive than when she had had a cold that Henrietta had been
+greatly taken with her. As the way to Mabel's affections was through
+approval of Rosa Marie, Henrietta quickly found it, so the threatened
+breach was healed.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Crane," Henrietta had cried, on beholding the little brown
+person in buckskin and feathers, "do let me telephone for James to
+bring the carriage so I can take Rosa Marie to our house and show her
+to my Grandmother. I'll take the very best of care of her. And all four
+of the girls can come with her, so she won't be afraid."
+
+"Oh, _do_," pleaded the others.
+
+"Well, it's mild out to-day," returned Mrs. Crane, glancing out the
+window, "and a little fresh air won't hurt her. I guess her coat will
+go on right over these fixings and I can tie a veil over her head.
+You'll find a telephone in the library, on Mr. Black's desk."
+
+Half an hour later, the six youngsters, carefully tucked between
+splendid fur robes, were on their way to Mrs. Slater's.
+
+"I have a perfectly heavenly plan," said Henrietta, her black eyes
+sparkling with impishness. "Want to hear it?"
+
+"Of course we do," encouraged the Cottagers.
+
+"You see," explained Henrietta, "a large box came from Father this
+morning. It hasn't been opened yet; but Greta and Simmons don't know
+that. I'm going to make them think that Rosa Marie is what came in that
+box--it's time I cheered them up a little, for Simmons has lost some
+money he had in the bank and Greta is homesick for the old country.
+Will you help?"
+
+"Ye-es," promised Jean, doubtfully, "if you're not going to hurt
+anybody's feelings."
+
+"Shan't even scratch one," assured Henrietta. "Now, when we reach the
+house, I'll slip around to the basement door with Rosa Marie--the cook
+will let us in--and you must ring the front-door bell because that will
+take Simmons out of the way while I get up the back stairs. Ask for
+Grandmother, and I'll come down and get you when I'm ready."
+
+So the girls asked for Mrs. Slater--every one of them now liked the
+entertaining old lady very much indeed--and chatted with her merrily
+until Henrietta came running down the stairs.
+
+"Grannie," asked the lively girl, pressing her warm red cheek against
+Mrs. Slater's much paler one, "would you like to be amused? Would you
+like to be a black conspirator and humble your most haughty servitor to
+the dust? Then you must ascend to my haunted den and not say a single
+word for at least five minutes. Come on, girls."
+
+In Henrietta's oddly furnished room there were two large East Indian
+gods and one heathen goddess. Henrietta had managed to group these
+interesting, Oriental figures in one corner of the spacious chamber,
+with appropriate drapings behind them. Near them she had placed an
+empty packing case, oblong in shape and plastered with curious, foreign
+labels. It looked as if it were waiting to be carried away to the
+furnace room or some such place.
+
+Darkening her bedroom and her dressing room, she placed her obliging
+grandmother and her four friends behind the heavy portieres.
+
+"You can peek round the edges," said she, "but you mustn't be seen or
+heard or even suspected."
+
+Then, fun-loving Henrietta brought Rosa Marie from another room,
+removed her wraps, concealed them from sight and placed the stolid
+child in a sitting posture on a large tabouret near one of the richly
+colored statues. Next she rang for Greta, and ran downstairs in person
+to ask Simmons to come at once to remove the heavy packing case.
+
+Simmons obeyed immediately and just as the pair reached Henrietta's
+door, Greta, who had been in her own room, joined them. All three
+entered together.
+
+"Don't you want to see my lovely new statue?" asked Henrietta. "There,
+with the rest of my heathen friends."
+
+"Ho," said Simmons, leaning closer to look. "_That's_ wot came in that
+'eavy box. Another 'eathen god from Hindia."
+
+[Illustration: "ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA."]
+
+"He ees very pretty god-lady, Miss Henrietta," approved Greta. "Looks
+most like real."
+
+Rosa Marie, awed by her strange surroundings, played her part most
+beautifully. For a long moment she sat perfectly still. But, just as
+Simmons leaned forward to take a better look at her, Rosa Marie, who
+had suddenly caught a whiff of pungent smoke from the joss-sticks
+that Henrietta had lighted to create a proper atmosphere for her gods
+and goddesses, gave a sudden sneeze. The effect was all that could be
+desired. Simmons leaped backward and Greta, who was excitable, gave a
+piercing shriek.
+
+The hidden girls restrained their giggles, but only with difficulty;
+and Bettie said afterwards that she could feel Mrs. Slater shaking with
+helpless laughter.
+
+"My heye!" exclaimed Simmons, "wot'll they be mykin' next! Look!
+Hit's movin' 'is 'ead."
+
+Rosa Marie proceeded deliberately to move more than her head. Putting
+both hands on the tabouret, she managed somehow to lift herself
+clumsily to all-fours, balancing uncertainly for several moments in
+that ungainly attitude. Then she rose to her feet, and, stiffly, like
+some mechanical toy, stretched out her arms toward Henrietta. Greta
+backed hastily through the doorway; but Simmons eyed the swaying
+youngster with enlightened eyes.
+
+"Hit's a real biby, from Hindia," said he, "but think of hit comin'
+hall that wy in that there box. But them Indoos 'ave a lot of queer
+tricks and Hi suppose they drugged 'im, mide a bloomin' mummy of 'im
+and sent directions for bringin' of 'im to."
+
+"Take the box downstairs, please," said Henrietta, succeeding in the
+difficult task of keeping her face straight. "This is a little North
+Indian from Lakeville, Simmons, not an East Indian from India, and it
+was only some things that I'm not to look at till Christmas that came
+in the box."
+
+"Hi _thought_ hit was mighty stringe," returned Simmons, looking very
+much relieved and not at all resentful. "Hit seemed sort of hawful,
+Miss 'Enrietta, to think as 'ow 'uman bein's could tike such chances
+with heven their hown hoffsprings. But, just the sime, Miss 'Enrietta,
+Hi've 'eard of them 'Indoos doing mighty queer things, and Hi, for one,
+don't trust 'em."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+Comparing Notes
+
+
+IT was eight o'clock, the morning of the twenty-fourth day of December,
+which is twice as exciting a day as the twenty-fifth and at least ten
+times as interesting as the twenty-sixth.
+
+Bettie, and as many of the little Tuckers as had been able to find
+enough clothes for decency, were eating pancakes a great deal faster
+than Mrs. Tucker could bake them over the Rectory stove. Marjory, her
+young countenance somewhat puckered because of the tartness of her
+grapefruit, was sitting sedately opposite her Aunty Jane. Jean had
+finished her breakfast and was tying mysterious tissue paper parcels
+with narrow scarlet ribbon; and Mabel, having suddenly remembered
+that this was the day that the postman brought interesting mail, was
+hurrying with might and main to get into her sailor blouse in order
+to capture the letters. Of course she didn't expect to open any of her
+Christmas mail; but she did like to squeeze the packages. Henrietta was
+reading a long, delightful letter from her father. Mrs. Slater, too,
+had Christmas letters.
+
+Five blocks away Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were finishing their
+breakfast. Their dining-room was at the back of the house, where its
+three broad windows commanded a fine view of the lake. Just at the top
+of the bluff and well inside the Black-Crane yard stood a wonderfully
+handsome fir tree, a truly splendid tree, for in all Lakeville there
+was no other evergreen to compare with it in size, shape or color.
+
+Every now and again, Mr. Black would turn in his chair to gaze
+earnestly out the window at the tree. For a long time, Mrs. Crane, her
+nice dark eyes dancing with fun, watched her brother in silence. But
+when he began to consume the last quarter of his second piece of toast
+she felt that it was time to speak.
+
+"Peter," said she, "you can't do it."
+
+"Do what?" asked Mr. Black, with a guilty start.
+
+"Cut down that tree. I know, just as well as I know anything, that
+you're just aching to make that splendid big evergreen into a
+Christmas-tree for Rosa Marie and those four girls."
+
+"_How_ do you know it?" queried Mr. Black, eying his sister with quick
+suspicion.
+
+"Because I had the same thought myself. It _would_ be fine for
+Christmas--it looks like a Christmas-tree every day of the year. And if
+you've been a sort of bottled-up Santa Claus all your life you're apt
+to be pretty foolish when you're finally unbottled. And that tree----"
+
+"But," queried Mr. Black, "what would it be the day after?"
+
+"That," confessed Mrs. Crane, "is what bothers _me_."
+
+"It does seem a shame," said Mr. Black, rising and walking to the
+window, "to cut down such a perfect specimen as that; and yet, in
+all my life I never met a tree so evidently designed for the express
+purpose of serving as a Christmas-tree. It's a real temptation."
+
+"I know it," sighed Mrs. Crane. "It's been tempting _me_; but I said:
+'Get thee behind me, Santa Claus, and send me to the proper place for
+Christmas-trees.'"
+
+"And did you go to that place?"
+
+"It came to me. I engaged a twelve-foot tree from a man that was taking
+orders at the door."
+
+"So did I," confessed Mr. Black. "I'm not sure that I didn't order two."
+
+"Peter Black! You're spoiling those children."
+
+"I'm having plenty of help," twinkled Mr. Black, shrewdly.
+
+With so many trees to choose from, it certainly seemed probable that
+the Black-Crane household would have at least one respectable specimen
+to decorate; but half an hour later, when the three ordered balsams
+arrived, both Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were greatly disappointed. The
+trees had shrunk from twelve to six feet, and the uneven branches were
+thin and sparsely covered.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Mr. Black, "all three of those trees together wouldn't
+make a whole tree."
+
+"They look," said Mrs. Crane, "as if they were shedding their feathers."
+
+"Most of them," agreed Mr. Black, "have already been shed. I said, Mr.
+Man, that I wanted _good_ trees."
+
+"My wagon broke down," explained the tree-man, "so I couldn't bring
+anything that I couldn't haul on a big sled. They weigh a lot, those
+big fellows."
+
+"Can't you make a special trip," suggested Mrs. Crane, "and bring us a
+first-class tree--just one?"
+
+"It's too late. I have to go too far before I'm allowed to cut any."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Black, "I'll pay you for these, and I'll give you
+fifty cents extra to haul them off the premises. We don't want any such
+sorrowful specimens round here to cast a gloom over our Christmas, do
+we, Sarah?"
+
+"Peter," announced Mrs. Crane, when the man had departed with his
+scraggly trees, "I have an idea. The weather's likely to stay mild for
+another twenty-four hours, isn't it?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"And this is an honest town?"
+
+"As honest as they make 'em."
+
+"And all those girls are accustomed to being outdoors----"
+
+"I _see_!" cried Mr. Black, giving Mrs. Crane's plump shoulders a
+sudden, friendly whack. "I _almost_ thought of that myself. We'll
+certainly surprise 'em _this_ time."
+
+Although it was getting late, Mr. Black still hung about the house as
+if he had not yet freed his mind of Christmas matters.
+
+"I suppose," said Mr. Black, breaking a long silence, "that you've
+thought of a few things to put on the tree for those girls?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly, "I've gathered up some little
+fixings that I thought they'd fancy."
+
+"It might be a good idea," said Mr. Black, rising to ring for Martin,
+"for us to compare notes. Two heads are better than one, you know;
+and after what they did for us, we owe those little folks a splendid
+Christmas."
+
+"We certainly do," agreed Mrs. Crane, wiping away the sudden moisture
+that sprung to her eyes at thought of the memorable dinner party in
+Dandelion Cottage--the dinner that had brought her estranged brother to
+the rescue. "I don't know where I'd have been now if it hadn't been for
+those blessed children. In the poorhouse, probably."
+
+"Martin," said Mr. Black, huskily, "you go to the storeroom in the
+basement. Take a hatchet with you and knock the top off that wooden box
+that is marked with a big blue cross and bring it up here to me."
+
+Presently Martin, who always blundered if there was the very faintest
+excuse for blundering, returned, proudly bearing the cover of the large
+box.
+
+"Thank you," replied Mr. Black, turning twinkling eyes upon Mrs. Crane,
+who twinkled back. "Now bring up the box with all the things in it."
+
+"I'll get my things, too," offered Mrs. Crane. "They're right here in
+the library closet, in a clothes hamper."
+
+Then when Martin had brought the box, the two middle-aged people began
+to sort their presents. They went about it rather awkwardly because
+neither had had much experience; but they were certainly enjoying their
+novel occupation.
+
+"This," said Mr. Black, clearing a space on the big library table, "is
+Bettie's pile, and Heaven knows that I tried not to get it bigger than
+the other three; but everything I saw in the shops shouted 'Buy me for
+Bettie'--and I usually obeyed."
+
+"This is Jean's pile," said Mrs. Crane, baring another space, "and I
+guess I feel about Jean the way you do about Bettie; but I love Bettie
+too--and all of them. Rosa Marie's things will have to go on the
+floor--they're mostly bumpy and breakable."
+
+Mr. Black rummaged in his box, Mrs. Crane fished in her basket.
+Presently there was a rapidly growing, untidy heap of large, lumpy
+bundles on the floor for Rosa Marie, and four very neat stacks of
+square, compact parcels for the Cottagers.
+
+"Let's open them all," suggested Mr. Black, eagerly. "We can tie them
+up again."
+
+So the elderly couple, as interested as two children, opened their
+packages. At first, both were too busy renewing acquaintanceship with
+their own purchases to notice what the other was doing; but presently
+Mrs. Crane gave a start as her eye traveled over the table.
+
+"Why, Peter Black," she exclaimed. "Here are two watches in Bettie's
+pile!"
+
+"I didn't buy but one of them," declared Mr. Black, placing his finger
+on one of the dainty timepieces. "That's mine."
+
+"The other's mine," confessed Mrs. Crane. "And, Peter, did you go and
+buy dolls all around, too?"
+
+"I did," owned Mr. Black, opening a long narrow box. "One _always_ buys
+dolls for Christmas."
+
+"Well," sighed Mrs. Crane, "I guess they can stand two apiece, because
+ours are not a bit alike. You see, you got carried away by fine clothes
+and I paid more attention to the dolls themselves. The bodies are
+first-class and the faces are lovely. I bought mine undressed and I've
+had four weeks' pleasure dressing them--I sort of hate to give them
+up. The clothes are plain and substantial; I couldn't make 'em fancy."
+
+"But the watches, Sarah?"
+
+"Well, I guess we'll have to send half of those watches back. Yours are
+the nicest--we'll keep yours."
+
+"I suspect," said Mr. Black, reflectively pinching two large parcels in
+Rosa Marie's heap, "that we've both bought Teddy bears for Rosa Marie.
+And we've both supplied the girls with perfume, purses and writing
+paper, but I don't see any books."
+
+"We'll use the extra-watch money for books," decided Mrs. Crane,
+promptly. "Suppose you attend to that--if we both do it we'll have
+another double supply. I see we've both bought candy, too; but I need a
+box for the milk-boy and I'd like to send some little thing to Martin's
+small sister."
+
+"On the whole," said Mr. Black, complacently, "we've managed pretty
+well considering our inexperience; but next time we'll do better."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Christmas Eve
+
+
+IN Lakeville, Christmas always began at exactly four o'clock the
+afternoon of the twenty-fourth; for the young people of that little
+town--even the very old young people with gray hair and youthful
+eyes--always indulged in an unusual and extremely enjoyable custom. The
+moment that marked this real beginning of Christmas found each person
+with gifts for her neighbor sallying forth with a great basketful of
+parcels on her arm. If one had a great many friends and neighbors it
+often took until ten o'clock at night to distribute all one's gifts.
+As each package was wrapped in white tissue paper, tied with ribbon
+and further adorned with sprigs of holly or gay Christmas cards,
+these Christmas baskets were decidedly attractive; and the streets of
+Lakeville, from four to ten, were certain to be full of gayety and
+genuine Christmas cheer.
+
+On all other days of the year, the Cottagers traveled together; but
+on this occasion each girl was an entirely separate person. Bettie,
+wearing a fine air of importance, went alone to Mabel's, to Jean's and
+to Marjory's to leave her gifts for her three friends. Although, at
+all other times, it was her habit to run in unceremoniously, to-day
+she rang each door-bell and was formally admitted to each front hall,
+where she selected the package designed for each house. Jean and the
+other two, likewise, went forth by themselves to leave their mysterious
+little parcels. But when this rite was completed all four ran to their
+own homes, added more parcels to their gay baskets and then congregated
+in Mrs. Mapes's parlor.
+
+They had gifts for dear little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte twins,
+Henrietta Bedford, Rosa Marie, Mr. Black, Mrs. Crane, some distant
+cousins of Jean's and for all their school-teachers that had not gone
+out of town for the holidays. Besides, their parents had intrusted them
+with articles to be delivered to their friends and Mabel had a gift for
+the dust-chute Janitor, a silver match-safe with the date of the fire
+engraved under his initials.
+
+"We'll go to Henrietta's first," decided Jean, "because that's the
+farthest."
+
+"And to the Janitor's next," said Mabel, "because I want to get it over
+and forget about it."
+
+To make things more exciting for Henrietta, the girls went in singly
+to present their offerings, the others crouching out of sight behind
+the stone balustrades that flanked the steps. Each time the bell rang,
+Henrietta was right at Simmons's heels when he opened the door. Then,
+after a brief wait outside, all four again presented themselves to
+invite Henrietta, who had gifts for Rosa Marie, to go with them to Mr.
+Black's and all the other places. Henrietta was glad to go, because
+she herself was too new to Lakeville to have very many friends to favor
+with presents. The five had a very merry time with their baskets; but
+they were much too excited to stay a great while under any one roof.
+They shouted merry greetings to the rest of the basket-laden population
+and paused more than once to obligingly pull a door-bell for some
+elderly acquaintance who found that she needed more hands than she had
+started out with.
+
+"How jolly everybody is!" remarked Henrietta. "I never saw a more
+Christmassy lot of people. It must be lovely to have a long, long list
+to give to."
+
+"Father says this is an unusually nice town," offered Bettie. "The
+people seem actually glad to have folks sick and in trouble so they can
+send them flowers and things to eat."
+
+"What a charitable place," laughed Henrietta, gaily. "I hope nobody's
+longing for _me_ to come down with anything. I'd rather stay well than
+eat flowers--they're too expensive just now."
+
+"My!" exclaimed Mabel, after all the gifts had been distributed and the
+girls, with their empty baskets turned over their heads, had started
+homeward, "won't to-morrow be a lively day. First, all our stockings;
+very early in the morning at home. Next, all our Christmas packages to
+open--I've about ten already that I haven't even squeezed--that is, not
+_very_ hard, except one that I know is a bottle. Then our dinners----"
+
+"Too bad we can't have all our dinners together," mourned Marjory, "but
+of course your mothers and my Aunty Jane and Henrietta's grandmother
+would be too lonely if we did; and all the families in a bunch would
+make too many to feed comfortably."
+
+"And then," proceeded Mabel, "a tree at Mr. Black's just as soon as
+it's dark enough to light the candles, and supper and another tree at
+Henrietta's in the evening, and a ride home in the Slater carriage
+afterwards, because by that time we'll surely be too tired to walk."
+
+"And I've trimmed a tree for the boys at home," said Bettie. "There
+won't be anything on it for you, but you can all come to see it."
+
+"Aunty Jane says that Christmas-trees shed their feathers and make too
+much litter," said Marjory, "but with three others to visit I don't
+mind if I don't have one."
+
+"You can have half of mine," offered Mabel, generously. "I shan't have
+time to trim more than half of it, anyway, so I'd like somebody to
+help."
+
+"I suppose," said Marjory, doubtfully, "that we ought to do something
+for the poor, but I don't know where to find any since our washwoman
+married the butcher."
+
+"I'm glad you don't," laughed Henrietta. "I've nine cents left and it's
+got to last, for I shan't have any more until I get my allowance the
+first of January, unless somebody sends me money for Christmas."
+
+"I guess," giggled Jean, fishing an empty purse from her pocket, "the
+rest of us couldn't scare up nine cents between us; but I have an uncle
+who always sends me a paper dollar every year. I've spent it in at
+least fifty different ways already. I always have lovely times with
+that dollar _before_ it comes, but it just sort of melts away into
+nothing afterwards."
+
+"I wish," breathed Mabel, fervently, "_I_ had an uncle like that."
+
+"Yes," agreed Henrietta, "a few uncles with the paper-dollar habit
+wouldn't be bad things to have."
+
+"I caught a glimpse of your tree, Henrietta," confessed Marjory. "I
+stood on the balustrade outside and peeked in the window when Jean was
+inside. It's going to be perfectly grand; but of course I didn't _mean_
+to peek. I just got up there because I was too excited to stay on the
+ground."
+
+"So did I," owned Bettie.
+
+"I wonder," said Mabel, "where Mr. Black's tree is. We were in all the
+downstairs rooms and I didn't see a sign of it."
+
+"Probably," teased Henrietta, "he's forgotten to order one. Unless one
+forms the habit very early in life, one is very apt to overlook little
+things like that."
+
+"Mr. Black never forgets," assured Bettie.
+
+"Probably it's some place in the yard," ventured Marjory, not guessing
+how close she came to the truth.
+
+"No," declared Mabel, positively. "I looked out the windows and there
+wasn't a single sign of a tree anywhere. I pretty nearly asked about
+it, but I wasn't sure that that would be polite."
+
+"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "There'll _be_ one if Mr. Black has to
+plant a seed and grow it over night. He and Mrs. Crane are more excited
+over Christmas than we are. They can't think of anything else."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+A Crowded Day
+
+
+MABEL rose very early indeed on Christmas morning to explore her
+bulging stocking and to open her packages; but Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane
+were even earlier, and they were delighted to find that the weather
+had remained mild. Putting on their outside wraps and warm overshoes,
+the worthy couple went with good-natured Martin and Maggie, the nimble
+nursery maid, to the garden as soon as it was light. They strung the
+tall tree from top to bottom with tinsel and glittering Christmas-tree
+ornaments, the finest that money could buy. Martin and the maid,
+perched on tall step-ladders, worked enthusiastically. Mr. Black and
+Mrs. Crane handed up the decorations. The cook, watching them from the
+basement window, grinned broadly at the sight.
+
+"Sure," said she, "'tis a lot of children they are; but 'twould do no
+harrum if all the wurruld was loike 'em."
+
+By church time the towering tree was in readiness except for a few of
+the more precious gifts, to be added later.
+
+"I hope," said Mrs. Crane, with a lingering, backward glance, when
+there was no further excuse for remaining outdoors, "that the air will
+be as quiet to-night as it is now. It would be dreadful if we couldn't
+light the candles."
+
+"We'll have to trust to luck," returned Mr. Black, "but I'm quite sure
+that luck will be with us."
+
+Of course the girls enjoyed their stockings at home, their gifts
+that arrived by mail and express from out-of-town relatives and the
+bountiful dinners at the home tables. But the Black-Crane tree to which
+Henrietta, likewise, had been invited, was something entirely new and
+so proved particularly enjoyable; if not, indeed, the crowning event
+of the day. Martin had cleared away the snow and had laid boards and
+even a carpet for them to stand on, and there were chairs and extra
+wraps, only the girls were too excited to use them. But Mrs. Crane
+and placid Rosa Marie sat enveloped in steamer rugs while the others
+capered about the brilliantly lighted tree, constantly discovering new
+beauties.
+
+"I declare," sighed Mrs. Crane, happily, "you're the youngest of the
+lot, Peter."
+
+"Well," returned Mr. Black, "why not? It's the first real Christmas
+I've had for forty years--but let's have another Christmas dinner on
+New Year's Day; I was disappointed when all these young folks said,
+'No, thank you,' to our invitation to dinner. Just remember, girls,
+we expect to see you all here the first of January or there'll be
+trouble--I'll see that it lasts all the year, too."
+
+"Peter Black," warned Mrs. Crane, "that step-ladder's prancing on one
+leg. If you go over that bluff you won't stop till you land in the
+lake. Let Martin do all the circus acts."
+
+"I've got it, now," said Mr. Black, coming down safely with the small
+parcel that had dangled so long just above his reach. "Here's something
+for Henrietta Bedford, with the tree's compliments."
+
+"How nice of you to remember me," cried Henrietta, opening the parcel.
+"And what a dear little pin--just what I needed. Thank you very much
+indeed."
+
+Of all their gifts, however, the Cottagers liked their lovely little
+watches the best. They had expected no such magnificent gifts from Mr.
+Black, and their own people had, of course, considered them much too
+young to be trusted with watches.
+
+"Dear me," said Mabel, strutting about with her timepiece pinned to her
+blouse, "I feel too grown-upedy for words. I never expected this moment
+to come."
+
+"I've _always_ wanted a watch," breathed Jean, "but I certainly
+supposed I'd have to wait until I'd graduated from high-school--folks
+almost always get them then."
+
+"And I," beamed Marjory, "never expected a _pretty_, really truly
+girl's watch, because--worse luck--I'm to get Aunty Jane's awful watch
+when she dies. Of course I don't want her to die a minute before her
+time, but getting even _that_ watch seemed sort of hopeless because all
+Aunty Jane's ancestors that weren't killed by accident lived to enjoy
+their nineties. But that doesn't prevent Aunty Jane's promising me that
+clumsy old turnip whenever she's particularly pleased with me."
+
+Bettie was too delighted for speech. But her big brown eyes spoke
+eloquently for her.
+
+Rosa Marie accepted the unusual tree, all her Teddy bears, her dolls
+and other gifts, very much as a matter of course. Nothing it appeared
+was ever sufficiently surprising to astonish calm little Rosa Marie.
+
+"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "she's awfully surprised inside."
+
+"I know _I_ am," laughed Mabel. "Inside and out, too."
+
+Then, just as Mrs. Crane had decided that Rosa Marie had been outdoors
+long enough, the Slater carriage arrived for the girls. Mr. Black,
+beaming at the success of his Christmas party, packed them with all
+their belongings into the vehicle and they rolled happily away.
+
+They stopped at their own homes just long enough to drop most of the
+gifts they had garnered from the Black-Crane tree; and then Henrietta
+whisked her friends to the Slater home, where Mrs. Slater entertained
+them for two hours over a delightful, genuinely English Christmas
+supper.
+
+Henrietta's tree, too, was a very handsome one. A realistic Santa Claus
+who seemed as English as the supper, since he dropped the letter H just
+as Simmons always did, distributed the gifts. When the Cottagers opened
+odd, foreign-looking parcels and found that Henrietta had given each
+girl a set of three beautiful Oriental boxes with jewelled tops, their
+delight knew no bounds. They had expected nothing so fine.
+
+"You see," explained Henrietta, "I told Father, months ago, to send
+me a lot of little things to give away for Christmas and of course he
+bought boxes. I believe he buys every one he sees."
+
+"They're darlings," declared Jean, dreamily. "They take you away to
+far-off places where things smell old and--and magnificent."
+
+"It's the grown-upness of my presents that I like," explained
+eleven-year-old Mabel, with a big sigh of satisfaction. "It's lovely to
+have people treat you as if you were somebody."
+
+"You see," laughed Marjory, "it's only two years ago that an
+absent-minded aunt of Mr. Bennett's sent Mabel a rattle, and the poor
+child can't forget it."
+
+"Miss 'Enrietta," inquired Santa Claus, anxiously, when the Slater
+tree, too, had been stripped of all but its decorations, "might Hi be
+hexcused now? Hi'm due at a Christmas ball and Hi'm hawfully afride
+these togs is meltin' me 'igh collar."
+
+"Yes," laughed Henrietta, "you've done nobly and I hope you'll have a
+lovely time at the party."
+
+It was half-past ten before the Cottagers got to bed that night--a long
+day because they had risen so early.
+
+"But," breathed Bettie, happily, "when days are as nice as this I like
+'em long."
+
+"It's nice to have friends," said Jean.
+
+"I wish," sighed Mabel, "they'd make some kind of a watch that had to
+be wound every hour; it seems awfully hard to wait until morning."
+
+When Mrs. Bennett looked in that night to see if Mabel had remembered
+to take off her best hair ribbon, she found a doll on each side of the
+blissful slumberer, a watch pinned to her nightdress, a jeweled box
+clasped loosely in each relaxed hand and at least half a bushel of
+other treasures under the uncomfortable pillow. As Mrs. Bennett gently
+removed all these articles and straightened the bed-clothes Mabel
+murmured in her sleep, "Merry Christmas, girls."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+A Bettie-less Plan
+
+
+THE first thing that happened after Christmas was the announcement of
+the School Board's decision to wait a full year before beginning to
+build a new schoolhouse.
+
+"Even if we could decide on a site," said they, "it would be hard
+on the tax-payers to furnish money for such a building all at one
+assessment. By spreading it over two years' tax-rolls it will come
+easier."
+
+The fathers, for the most part, were pleased with the arrangement, but
+many of the mothers disliked it very much indeed.
+
+"We must do something about it," said Aunty Jane, who had called at
+Mrs. Bennett's to talk the matter over. "I'm in favor of sending
+Marjory away to some good girls' school, because she has some money
+that is to be used solely for educational purposes. There is enough
+for college and for at least one year at a boarding school, besides
+something for extras. My conscience will feel easier when that money
+begins to go toward its proper purpose."
+
+"The Doctor thinks of going to Germany next fall for a special course
+of study that he thinks he needs," returned Mrs. Bennett. "If we could
+place Mabel in a safe, comfortable school, I could go with him. We've
+been talking of it for a long time."
+
+"I certainly am not satisfied," admitted Mrs. Mapes, when Aunty Jane
+put the matter to her. "There are too many pupils crowded into that
+Baptist basement and it's so damp that I've had to put cold compresses
+on Jean's throat four times since the fire. If you can find a good
+school to fit a modest pocketbook we'd be glad to send Jean for the one
+year."
+
+Then Aunty Jane unfolded her plans to the Tuckers.
+
+"It's a beautiful idea," said pleasant Dr. Tucker, "as far as the rest
+of you are concerned; but you will have to leave Bettie entirely out of
+the scheme; we simply can't afford it. We've always hoped to be able
+to do something for Dick--he wants to be a physician--but even that is
+hopelessly beyond us at present."
+
+"No," added Mrs. Tucker, shifting the heavy baby to her other arm and
+hoping that Aunty Jane would not notice the dust on the battered table,
+"we couldn't even think of sending Bettie. But Mrs. Slater intends
+letting Henrietta go some place next fall; why don't you talk it over
+with her?"
+
+"I mean to," assured Aunty Jane. "You see, it will need a great deal of
+talking over because it may prove hard to find exactly the right kind
+of school. The eastern seminaries are too far away. It must be some
+place south of Lakeville, within a day's journey, within reach of all
+our pocketbooks, and in a healthful location. It mustn't be too big,
+too stylish, or too old-fashioned. I'm sending out postal cards every
+day and getting catalogues by every mail; but so far, I haven't come to
+any decision except that Marjory is to go _some_ place."
+
+At first, the older people said little about school matters to the four
+girls, but as winter wore on it became an understood thing that not
+only fortunate Henrietta but Jean, Marjory and Mabel were to go away to
+school the following September.
+
+"Won't it be simply glorious," said Henrietta, who was entertaining the
+Cottagers in her den, "if all four of us land in the same school; and
+we _must_--I shall stand out for that. And you and I, Jean, shall room
+together and be chums."
+
+"Then Marjory and I," announced Mabel, "shall room together, too, and
+fight just the way we always do if Jean isn't on hand to stop us."
+
+"Won't it be perfectly fine?" breathed Marjory. "I've always loved
+boarding-school stories and now we'll be living right in one."
+
+Bettie kept silence, but her eyes were big and troubled. With the
+girls gone she knew that her world would be sadly changed. Her close
+companionship with the other Cottagers--she was only three when
+she first began to play with Jean--had prevented her forming other
+friendships. Without doubt, Aunty Jane would be lonely; the Bennetts,
+in Germany, might miss noisy, affectionate Mabel, Mrs. Mapes might
+long for helpful Jean and Mrs. Slater would certainly find her big,
+beautiful home dull with no sparkling Henrietta but it was Bettie,
+poor little impecunious, uncomplaining Bettie, who would be the very
+loneliest of all. The others would lose only one girl apiece; Bettie's
+loss would be fourfold. Lovely Jean, sprightly Marjory, jolly Mabel and
+attractive Henrietta--how _could_ she spare them all at once! And the
+glorious times the absent four would have together--how _could_ Bettie
+miss all that? It seemed, to the little, overwhelmed girl, too big a
+trouble to talk about.
+
+For a long, long time the more fortunate girls were too taken up with
+their own prospects to think very seriously of Bettie's; but one day
+Jean was suddenly astonished at the depth of misery that she surprised
+in Bettie's wistful, tell-tale eyes. After that, the girls openly
+expressed their pity for Bettie, who would have to stay in Lakeville.
+This proved even harder to bear than their light-hearted chatter; for
+it made Bettie pity herself to an even greater extent.
+
+Of course, it would be several months before the hated school--Bettie,
+by this time, was quite certain that she hated it--would swallow up
+her dearest four friends at one sudden, hideous gulp; but remote as
+the date was, the interested girls could talk of very little else. No
+matter what topic they might begin with, it always worked around at
+last to "when I go away next fall."
+
+"I can't have any clothes this spring," said Jean, when the girls, in
+a body, were escorting Henrietta home from her dressmaker's. "Mother's
+letting my old things down and piecing everything till I feel like a
+walking bedquilt. You see, I'm to have new things to go away with."
+
+"Same here," asserted Mabel. "Only _my_ mother's having a worse time
+than yours to make my things meet. My waist measure is twenty-nine
+inches and my skirt bands are only twenty-seven."
+
+"_Only_ twenty-seven," groaned shapely Henrietta.
+
+"If you see a second Aunty Jane," said Marjory, skipping ahead to
+imitate the elder Miss Vale's prim, peculiar walk, "running round
+Lakeville all summer, you'll know who it is. She's cutting down two of
+her thousand-year-old gowns to tide me over the season. One came out of
+the Ark and she purchased the other at a little shop on Mount Ararat."
+
+"Grandmother's making lists," laughed Henrietta, "of all the things
+mentioned in all the catalogues. When she gets done, probably she'll
+add them all up and divide the result by _me_; and that will give a
+respectable outfit for one girl."
+
+"Poor Bettie!" said sympathetic Jean, squeezing Bettie's slim hand.
+"You're out of it all, aren't you?"
+
+But this was too much for Bettie. She turned hastily and fled.
+
+The girls looked after her pityingly.
+
+"Poor Bettie!" murmured Jean. "It's awfully hard on her to hear all
+this talk about school. She's always had us, you know, and she thinks
+there won't be a scrap of Lakeville left when we're gone."
+
+In February Rosa Marie created a little excitement by coming down
+with measles. Maggie, the maid, had broken out with this unlovely
+affliction and no one had suspected what the trouble was until she had
+peeled in the actual presence of Rosa Marie. Of course Rosa Marie came
+down with measles too. But there was an unusual feature about this
+illness. Although it was Maggie and Rosa Marie who were supposed to be
+the sufferers it was really Mrs. Crane who did all the suffering. You
+see, this inexperienced lady read all the literature that she could
+find that touched on the subject of measles and its after-effects;
+and long after Rosa Marie had entirely recovered, conscientious Mrs.
+Crane remained awake nights waiting for the dreaded "after-effects" to
+develop.
+
+"We'll bury Mrs. Crane with whooping cough," sputtered Dr. Bennett,
+writing a soothing prescription for the good lady, "if Rosa Marie ever
+catches it. She's a hen bringing up a solitary duckling, and she's
+certainly overdoing it. She ought not to have the responsibility of
+that child; she's not fitted for responsibilities, yet she's the sort
+that takes 'em."
+
+"I'll adopt Rosa Marie myself," declared Henrietta Bedford, hearing
+of this opinion and waylaying Dr. Bennett in Mrs. Slater's hall to
+make her light-hearted offer. "She'd go beautifully with the other
+picturesque objects in my den and I'm very sure that the responsibility
+won't weigh _me_ down."
+
+"So am I," laughed Dr. Bennett. "So sure of it that I shan't allow you
+to afflict your grandmother with any carelessly adopted babies. But
+that child is on my conscience, since Mabel was the principal culprit
+in the matter. We'll try to get Mrs. Crane to send her to an asylum;
+only that dear lady's conscience will have to be bombarded from all
+sides before it will let her consent to any such sensible plan. Perhaps
+you can get the girls--particularly Mabel,--to look at the matter from
+that point of view; we must rescue Mrs. Crane."
+
+"I'll try to," promised Henrietta.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+Anxious Days
+
+
+FOR the next few weeks the Cottagers led as quiet a life as almost
+daily association with Henrietta would permit. Jean grew a trifle
+taller, Marjory discovered new ways of doing her hair and Mabel
+remained as round and ruddy as ever. But everybody was worried about
+Bettie. She seemed listless and indifferent in school, she fell asleep
+over her books when she attempted to study at night, she grew averse to
+getting up mornings and day by day she grew thinner and paler, until
+even heedless Mabel observed that she was all eyes.
+
+"What's the trouble?" asked Jean, when Bettie said that she didn't feel
+like going to the Public Library corner to view the Uncle Tom's Cabin
+parade. "A walk would do you good, and it's only four blocks."
+
+"I'm tired," returned Bettie. "My head would like to go but my feet
+would rather not. And my hands don't want to do anything--or even
+my tongue. You can tell me about the parade--that'll be easier than
+looking at it."
+
+Now, this was a new Bettie. The old one, while not exactly a noisy
+person, had been so active physically that the others had sometimes
+found it difficult to follow her dancing footsteps. She had ever been
+quick to wait on the other members of her large family; or to do
+errands, in the most obliging fashion, for any of her friends. This
+new Bettie eyed the Tucker cat sympathetically when it mewed for milk;
+but she relegated the task of feeding pussy to one of her much more
+unwilling small brothers.
+
+"She needs a tonic," said Mrs. Tucker, giving Bettie dark-brown doses
+from a large bottle. "It's the spring, I guess."
+
+Two days after the parade there was great excitement among Bettie's
+friends. She had not appeared at school. That in itself was not
+an unusual occurrence, for Bettie often stayed at home to help her
+overburdened mother through particularly trying days; but when Jean
+stopped in to consult her little friend about homemade valentines, Mrs.
+Tucker met her with the news that Bettie was sick in bed.
+
+"Can't I see her?" asked Jean.
+
+"I'm afraid not," replied Mrs. Tucker, who looked worried. "She's
+asleep just now and she has a temperature."
+
+When Mabel heard this latter fact she at once consulted Dr. Bennett.
+
+"Father," she queried, "do folks ever die of temperature?"
+
+"Why, yes," returned the Doctor. "If the temperature is below zero they
+sometimes freeze. Why?"
+
+"Mrs. Tucker says that's what Bettie's got--temperature."
+
+"It isn't a disease, child. It's a condition of heat or cold. But it's
+too soon to say anything about Bettie--go play with your dolls."
+
+Henrietta and the remaining Cottagers immediately thought of lovely
+things to do for Bettie. So, too, did Mr. Black. Impulsive Henrietta
+purchased a large box of most attractive candy, Jean made her a lovely
+sponge cake that sat down rather sadly in the middle but rose nobly
+at both ends; Mabel begged half a lemon pie from the cook; Marjory
+concocted a wonderful bowl of orange jelly with candied cherries on
+top, Mrs. Crane made a steaming pitcherful of chicken soup and Mr.
+Black sent in a great basket of the finest fruit that the Lakeville
+market afforded.
+
+But when all these successive and well-meaning visitors presented
+themselves and their unstinted offerings at the Rectory door, Dr.
+Tucker received them sadly.
+
+"Bettie is down with a fever," said he. "She can't eat _anything_."
+
+The days that followed were the most dreadful that the Cottagers had
+ever known. They lived in suspense. Day after day when they asked
+for news of Bettie the response was usually, "Just about the same."
+Occasionally, however, Dr. Bennett shook his head dubiously and said,
+"Not quite so well to-day."
+
+For weeks--for _years_ it seemed to the disheartened children--these
+were the only tidings that reached them from the sick-room. There was a
+trained nurse whose white cap sometimes gleamed in an upper window, the
+grave-faced, uncommunicative doctor visited the house twice a day, a
+boy with parcels from the drug store could frequently be seen entering
+the Rectory gate and that was about all that the terribly interested
+friends could learn concerning their beloved Bettie. They spent most of
+their time hovering quietly and forlornly about Mrs. Mapes's doorstep,
+for that particular spot furnished the best view of the afflicted
+Rectory. They wanted, poor little souls, to keep as close to Bettie as
+possible. If the sun shone during this time, they did not know it; for
+all the days seemed dark and miserable.
+
+"If we could only help a little," mourned Jean, who looked pale and
+anxious, "it wouldn't be so bad."
+
+"I teased her," sighed Henrietta, repentantly, "only two days before
+she was taken sick. I do wish I hadn't."
+
+"I gave her the smaller half of my orange," lamented Mabel, "the very
+last time I saw her. If--if I don't ever see--see her again----"
+
+"Oh, well," comforted Marjory, hastily, "she might have been just
+that much sicker if she'd eaten the larger piece. But _I_ wish I
+hadn't talked so much about boarding school. It always worried her and
+sometimes I tried [Marjory blushed guiltily at the remembrance] to make
+her just a little envious."
+
+"I'm afraid," confessed Jean, "I sometimes neglected her just a little
+for Henrietta; but I mean to make up for it if--if I have a chance."
+
+"That's it," breathed Marjory, softly, "if we only have a chance."
+
+Then, because the March wind wailed forlornly, because the waiting had
+been so long and because it seemed to the discouraged children as if
+the chance, after all, were extremely slight--as slight and frail a
+thing as poor little Bettie herself--the four friends sat very quietly
+for many minutes on the rail of the Mapes's broad porch, with big tears
+flowing down their cheeks. Presently Mabel fell to sobbing outright.
+
+Mr. Black, on his way home from his office, found them there. He had
+meant to salute them in his usual friendly fashion, but at sight of
+their disconsolate faces he merely glanced at them inquiringly.
+
+"She's--she's just about the same," sobbed Jean.
+
+Mr. Black, without a word, proceeded on his way; but all the sparkle
+had vanished from his dark eyes and his countenance seemed older.
+He, too, was unhappy on Bettie's account and he lived in hourly dread
+of unfavorable news. The very next morning, however, there was a more
+hopeful air about Dr. Bennett when he left the Rectory. Mabel, waiting
+at home, questioned him mutely with her eyes.
+
+"A very slight change for the better," said he, "but it is too soon for
+us to be sure of anything. We're not out of the woods yet."
+
+Next came the tidings that Bettie was really improving, though not at
+all rapidly; yet it was something to know that she was started on the
+road to recovery.
+
+Perhaps the tedious days that followed were the most trying days
+of all, however, for the impatient children; because the "road to
+recovery" in Bettie's case seemed such a tremendously long road that
+her little friends began to fear that Bettie would never come into
+sight at the end of it, but she did at last. And such a forlorn Bettie
+as she was!
+
+She had certainly been very ill. They had shaved her poor little head,
+her eyes seemed almost twice their usual size and the girls had not
+believed that any living person could become so pitiably thin; but the
+wasting fever was gone and what was left of Bettie was still alive.
+
+Long before the invalid was able to sit up, the girls had been admitted
+one by one and at different times, to take a look at her. Bettie had
+smiled at them. She had even made a feeble little joke about being able
+to count every one of her two hundred bones.
+
+After a time, Bettie could sit up in bed. A few days later, rolled in a
+gaily flowered quilt presented by the women of the parish; she occupied
+a big, pillowed chair near the window; and all four of the girls were
+able to throw kisses to her from Jean's porch. And now she could eat a
+few spoonfuls of Mrs. Crane's savory broth, a very little of Marjory's
+orange jelly and one or two of Mr. Black's imported grapes. But, for a
+long, long time, Bettie progressed no further than the chair.
+
+"I don't know what ails that child," confessed puzzled Dr. Bennett.
+"She's like a piece of elastic with all the stretch gone from the
+rubber. She seems to lack something; not exactly vitality--animation,
+perhaps, or ambition. Yes, she certainly lacks ambition. She ought to
+be outdoors by now."
+
+"Hurry and get well," urged Jean, who had been instructed to try to
+rouse her too-slowly-improving friend. "The weather's warmer every day
+and it won't be long before we can open Dandelion Cottage. And we've
+sworn a tremendous vow not to show Henrietta--she's crazy to see it--a
+single inch of that house until you're able to trot over with us.
+Here's the key. You're to keep it until you're ready to unlock that
+door yourself."
+
+"Drop it into that vase," directed Bettie. "It seems a hundred miles
+to that cottage, and I'll never have legs enough to walk so far."
+
+"Two are enough," encouraged Jean.
+
+"Both of mine," mourned Bettie, displaying a wrinkled stocking,
+"wouldn't make a whole one."
+
+"Mrs. Slater wants to take you to drive every day, just as soon as you
+are able to wear clothes. She told me to tell you."
+
+"It seems a fearfully long way to the stepping stone," sighed Bettie.
+"Go home, please. It's makes me tired to _think_ of driving."
+
+"There's certainly something amiss with Bettie," said Dr. Bennett, when
+told of this interview. "Some little spring in her seems broken. We
+must find it and mend it or we won't have any Bettie."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+An April Harvest
+
+
+SPRING is an unknown season in Lakeville. But if one waits sufficiently
+long, there comes at last a period known as the breaking of winter.
+Since, owing to the heavy snows of January, February and March, there
+is always a great deal of winter to break, the process is an extended
+and--to the "overshoed" young--a decidedly trying one. But even in
+northerly Lakeville there finally came an afternoon when the girls
+decided that the day was much too fine to be spent indoors; and that
+the hour had arrived when it would be safe to leave off rubbers. The
+snow had disappeared except in very shaded spots and the Bay was free
+of ice except for a line of white that showed far out beyond the
+intense blue. The sidewalks were comparatively dry, but streams of
+icy water gurgled merrily in the deep gutters that ran down all the
+sloping streets. Although this abundant moisture was only the result of
+melting snow in the hills back of Lakeville and possessed no beauty in
+itself, these impetuous streams gave forth pleasant springlike sounds
+and made one think sentimentally of babbling brooks, fresh clover and
+blossoms by the wayside. Yet one needed to draw pretty heavily on one's
+imagination to see either flowers or grass at that early date; but the
+_feel_ of them, as Jean said, was certainly in the air.
+
+"Let's walk down by Mrs. Malony's," suggested Mabel.
+
+"She doesn't milk at this time of day, does she?" queried Henrietta,
+cautiously.
+
+"We needn't go in," assured Mabel. "We'll just run down one hill and up
+the other; but it's always lovely to walk along the shore road. There's
+a sort of a side-walk--if folks aren't too particular."
+
+"Wouldn't it be beautiful," sighed Jean, "if Bettie could only come
+too? This air would do anybody good."
+
+"Yes," mourned Marjory, "nothing seems quite right without Bettie."
+
+The girls, a trifle saddened, went slowly down the hill.
+
+"We must certainly steer clear of Mrs. Malony," warned Henrietta, as
+the egg-woman's house became visible. "Another dose of her hot milk
+would drive me from Lakeville."
+
+"There she is now!" exclaimed Mabel. "I recognize her by her cow; she's
+driving it home."
+
+"Perhaps it ran away to look for summer," offered Marjory. "The lady
+seems displeased with her pet."
+
+"An' how are the darlin' childer?" cried Mrs. Malony, greeting her
+friends while yet a long way off. "'Tis a sight for a quane to see, so
+manny purty lasses. But where's me little black-oiyed Bettie--there's
+the swate choild for yez? Sure Oi heard she was loike to die, wan
+while back. Betther, is ut? Thot's good, thot's good. An' wud yez
+belave ut, Miss Mabel,--'tis fatter than iver yez are, Oi see--Oi had
+yez in me moind all this blissid day."
+
+"Why?" asked Mabel, rather coldly.
+
+"Well, 'twas loike this, darlin'," explained Mrs. Malony, dropping her
+voice to a more confidential tone and nodding significantly toward a
+distant chimney. "'Twas siven o'clock the mornin' whin Oi seen smoke
+risin' from the shanty beyant. All day Oi've been moinded to be goin'
+acrost the p'int an' lookin' in at thot windy to see if 'twas thot
+big-eyed Frinch wan come back wid the spring."
+
+"You don't mean Rosa Marie's mother!" gasped Mabel.
+
+"Thot same," proceeded Mrs. Malony, calmly. "But what wid Malony
+white-washin' me kitchen, an' me pesky hins walkin' in me parlor and me
+cow breakin' down me fince, sure Oi've had no toime to be traipsin'
+about."
+
+"Couldn't you go now?" queried Jean, eagerly. "If it _is_ that woman we
+ought to know it."
+
+"Wait till Oi toi up me cow," consented Mrs. Malony.
+
+The four friends, with Mrs. Malony in tow, picked their way over the
+badly kept path that led to the shanty.
+
+"The door's been mended," announced observant Marjory.
+
+"It doesn't seem quite proper," said gentle-mannered Jean, "to peek
+into people's windows. Couldn't we knock and ask in a perfectly proper
+way to see the lady of the house?"
+
+"Sure we could thot," replied Mrs. Malony.
+
+"Do hurry!" urged Mabel, breathlessly.
+
+There was no response to Jean's rather nervous knock; but when Mrs.
+Malony applied her stout knuckles to the door there were results. The
+door was opened cautiously, just a tiny crack at first, then to its
+full extent. A dark-eyed woman with two thick braids falling over her
+shapely shoulders confronted them.
+
+She swept a mildly curious glance over Mrs. Malony, over Jean, over
+Marjory, over Henrietta. Then her splendid eyes fell upon Mabel; they
+changed instantaneously.
+
+In a twinkling the woman had brushed past the others to seize startled
+Mabel by both shoulders and to gaze piercingly into Mabel's frightened
+eyes. The woman tried to speak; but, for a long moment, her voice would
+not come.
+
+"You--you!" she gasped, clutching Mabel still more tightly, as if she
+feared that the youngster might escape. "Ees eet you for sure? But
+w'ere, w'ere----?"
+
+No further words would come. The poor creature's evident emotion was
+pitiful to see, and the girls were too overwhelmed to do more than
+stare with all their might.
+
+"Rosa Marie's all right," gulped Mabel, coming to the rescue with
+exactly the right words. "She's safe and happy."
+
+"Ma babee, ma babee," moaned the woman, her long-lashed eyes beaming
+with wonderful tenderness, and expressive of intense longing. "Bring me
+to heem queek--ah, so queek as evaire you can. Ma babee--I want heem
+queek."
+
+Then, without stopping for outer garments or even to close her door,
+and still holding fast to the abductor of Rosa Marie, the woman
+hurriedly led the way from the clearing.
+
+Mrs. Malony would have remained with the party if she had not
+encountered her frolicsome cow, a section of fence-rail dangling from
+her neck, strolling off toward town.
+
+On the way up the long hill the woman, who still possessed all the
+beauty and the "mother-looks" that Mabel had described, talked volubly
+in French, in Chippewa Indian and in broken English. As Henrietta was
+able to understand some of the French and part of the English, the
+girls were able to make out almost two-thirds of what she was saying.
+
+On the day of Mabel's first visit the young mother had departed with
+her new husband, who, not wanting to be burdened with a step-child,
+had persuaded her to abandon Rosa Marie, for whom she had subsequently
+mourned without ceasing. As might have been expected, the man had
+proved unkind. He had beaten her, half starved her and finally deserted
+her. She had worked all winter for sufficient money to carry her to
+Lakeville and had waited impatiently--all that time without news of her
+baby--for mild weather in order that the shanty, the only home that she
+knew, might become habitable.
+
+The hill was steep and long, but all five hastened toward the top.
+Marjory ran ahead to ring the Black-Crane door-bell. Mabel piloted the
+trembling mother straight to the nursery. Jean, learning from Martin
+where to look for Mrs. Crane, ran to fetch her.
+
+Rosa Marie, in her little chair and placidly stringing beads, looked
+up as unconcernedly as if it were an ordinary occasion. The woman,
+uttering broken, incoherent sounds sped across the big room, dropped to
+her knees and flung her arms about Rosa Marie. Then, for many moments,
+her face buried in Rosa Marie's neck, the only-half-civilized mother
+sobbed unrestrainedly.
+
+The child, however, gazed stolidly over her mother's shoulder at the
+other visitors, all of whom were much more moved than she. Mrs. Crane,
+indeed, was shedding tears and even Mr. Black seemed touched. As for
+Mabel, that sympathetic young person was weeping both visibly and
+audibly, without exactly knowing why.
+
+Since the repentant mother, who refused to let her baby out of her arms
+for a single moment, begged to be allowed to take Rosa Marie to the
+shanty that very night, Mrs. Crane, aided by the willing girls and Mr.
+Black, did what they could toward making the place comfortable.
+
+After Martin and Mr. Black had carried a whole motor-carful of bedding,
+food and fuel to the shanty, the now radiant mother, Rosa Marie, her
+toys, her clothes and all her belongings, were likewise transported
+to the humble lakeside dwelling. Everybody was so busy and the whole
+affair was over so quickly that no one had time for regrets.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Crane, wonderingly, "I ought to feel as if I'd
+lost something. Instead, I'm all of a whirl."
+
+"I said," Mabel triumphed, "that she'd come back."
+
+Jean was commissioned to go the next morning to break the news to
+Bettie. It seemed to Dr. Bennett and to the hopeful Cottagers that this
+important happening would surely rouse the listless little maid if
+anything could. Mr. Black, who arrived with a great bunch of violets
+while Jean was telling the wonderful tale as graphically as she could,
+expectantly watched Bettie's pale countenance. Her wistful, weary eyes
+brightened for a moment and a faint, tender smile flickered across her
+lips.
+
+"I'm glad," said she. "Now Mrs. Crane won't have to have whooping cough
+and all the other things."
+
+"Mrs. Crane is going to find work for Rosa Marie's mother," announced
+Jean, "and the shanty is to be mended."
+
+"That's nice," returned Bettie, who, however, no longer seemed
+interested in Rosa Marie's mother. "But my ears are tired now; don't
+tell me any more."
+
+After this failure, Mr. Black followed crestfallen Jean downstairs; he
+drew her into the shabby Rectory parlor.
+
+"Now, Jean," demanded he, sternly, "is there a solitary thing in this
+whole world that Bettie wants? Is there anything that could _possibly_
+happen that would wake her up and bring her back? I'm dreadfully afraid
+she's slipping away from us, Jean; and she's far too precious to lose.
+Now think--think _hard_, little girl. Has she _ever_ wanted anything?"
+
+"Why," responded Jean, slowly, as if some outside force were dragging
+the words from her, "right after Christmas there _was_ something, I
+think. A big, impossible something that _nobody_ could possibly help.
+She didn't talk about it--and yet--and yet---- Perhaps she did worry."
+
+"Go on," insisted Mr. Black, "I want it all."
+
+"She seemed to get used to the idea so--so uncomplainingly. Still, she
+may have cared more than anybody suspected. She's _like_ that--never
+cries when she's hurt."
+
+"What idea?" demanded Mr. Black. "Cared for what? Make it clear,
+child."
+
+"You see," explained Jean, "all of us--Henrietta, Marjory, Mabel
+and I--have been talking a great deal about going away to boarding
+school--we're all going. But Bettie--Bettie, of course, knew that she
+couldn't go. There was no money and her father said----"
+
+"And why in thunder," shouted Mr. Black, forgetting the invalid and
+striding up and down the room with his fists clenched, "didn't somebody
+say so? What do folks think the good Lord _gave_ us money for? Why
+didn't--Come upstairs. We'll settle this thing right now."
+
+Impulsive Mr. Black, with dazed Jean at his heels, opened Bettie's door
+and walked in. Bettie lifted her tired eyes in very mild astonishment.
+
+"Bad pennies," she smiled, "always come back. What's all the noise
+about?"
+
+"Bettie," demanded Mr. Black, "do you want to go away to school with
+those other girls next September?"
+
+Bettie opened her eyes wide. Jean said afterwards that she "pricked up
+her ears," too.
+
+"Because," continued Mr. Black, keeping a sharp watch on Bettie's
+awakening countenance, "you're going. And if _I_ say you're going, you
+surely are. Now, don't worry about it--the thing's settled. You're
+going with the others."
+
+"Open the windows," pleaded Bettie, her face alight with some of the
+old-time eagerness. "I want to see how it smells outdoors."
+
+"I believe we've done it," breathed Jean. "She looks a lot brighter."
+
+And they had. No one had realized how tender, uncomplaining Bettie had
+dreaded losing her friends. And in her weakened state, both before and
+after the fever, the trouble had seemed very big. The load had almost
+crushed sick little Bettie. Now that it was lifted, and it was, for
+Mr. Black swept everything before him, there was nothing to keep the
+little girl from getting well with truly gratifying speed.
+
+"Bettie," asked Dr. Bennett, the next evening, "are you sure this is
+your own pulse? If it is, it's behaving properly at last."
+
+"She ate every bit of her supper," said Mrs. Tucker, happily, "and she
+asked, this afternoon, if she owned any shoes. She's really getting
+well."
+
+"I'm hurrying," laughed happy Bettie, "to make up for lost time. Do
+give me things to make me fat--as fat as Mabel."
+
+"She's certainly better," said the satisfied doctor. "By to-morrow
+we'll have to tie her down to keep her from dancing. She's our own
+Bettie, at last."
+
+    THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Punctuation errors repaired. Varied hyphenation retained.
+
+Front page description, "Scovill" changed to "Scovel" (Florence Scovel
+Shinn)
+
+Page 96, "Bennettt" changed to "Bennett" (Mrs. Bennett, rescuing)
+
+Page 165, "shruddered" changed to "shuddered" ("Ugh!" shuddered Marjory)
+
+Page 214, repeated word "a" removed from text. Original read (like a a
+lobster's)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adopting of Rosa Marie, by
+Carroll Watson Rankin
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