Chapter XII

A GLAD RETURN

"We're glad to think that to-night we shall be at home at the Stone House, and that we'll be with Mother and Aunt Charlotte again, and we're really sorry to say 'good-by' to Glenmore and the pleasant friends that we have found here," Dorothy said, as she stood on the porch with Nancy, waiting for Marcus, who was to take them to the station.

"That's just the way we feel," said Nancy. "Glad and sorry at the same time."

"Well, let me tell you, I don't feel two ways at once," cried Vera. "I feel just one way. I'm just fearfully sorry!"

Mrs. Marvin had bidden them "good-by," after having expressed her approval of their work as pupils, and her regret that they must leave too early to have a part in the program at the final exhibition. On the train that they were to take, there was no stop long enough to obtain anything to eat, so Judy had put up a tempting lunch of sandwiches, cake, and fruit.

Betty and Valerie had a box of chocolates for each, and Ida Mayo, now wholly recovered, came in at the gate just in time to offer each a lovely rose from a cluster that she carried.

Arabella came slowly out to join the group on the porch, and seeing Ida Mayo offering her roses, she decided not to be outdone.

"Here, wait 'til I find something," she said, thrusting her hand deep into her pocket. After a moment's search she produced two bottles of pills, one pink and the other green.

"Take 'em with you," she said, offering one to Dorothy, and the other to Nancy. "One is for a 'tired feeling,' and the other is for feeling too good. I've forgotten which is which, but if you take them both, you're sure to feel all right during the long car-ride."

There were stifled giggles, for surely bottles of medicine were curious gifts to offer, and the group of girls thought it the drollest thing that Arabella had yet done.

For only a second did Dorothy hesitate. She did not, of course, want to accept the funny gift, but she saw Arabella's cheek flush, as little Lina Danford laughed softly, and she did the kindest thing that she could have done.

"Thank you," she said, gently, then to the others she added: "Arabella is eager to have us both feel fine when we reach Merrivale."

The soft laughter ceased, and Ida Mayo said to a girl who stood near her: "Isn't that just like Dorothy Dainty! She doesn't want those pills any more than you or I would, but she won't let Arabella feel hurt."

"She is dear, and sweet," was the whispered reply, "and so is Nancy."

At last Marcus arrived, and as they rode along the avenue, they waved their handkerchiefs to the group on the porch until they turned the corner, and were out of sight.

The long car-ride was much like any all-day ride. Rather pleasant at first, a bit tedious on the last hour, but oh, the joy of the home-coming!

Mrs. Dainty had felt the first separation from Dorothy keenly, and she could not school herself to be calm when for the first time in months she would see her sweet face again, so she sent the limousine over to the station, and with a desperate effort at patience, waited at home for the sound of its return.

Aunt Charlotte was more calm, but so long had Nancy been under her care that she seemed like a little daughter, and now, with Mrs. Dainty she sat waiting, and each smiled when she caught the other watching the clock.

Of course the train was late in arriving at Merrivale, and Mrs. Dainty was just beginning to be anxious when the limousine whirled up the driveway, and stopped. John opened the door, and in an instant Dorothy found herself held close in loving arms.

"Dorothy, my darling, I can never be parted from you again. If it is a question of travel, I will not go unless you go with me, and if it is education, then you must have private tutors at home."

"Oh, yes, yes!" agreed Dorothy.

"At first the newness amused me, but the last half of the time grew harder and harder to bear. I knew you needed the rest and change and I did my best. When I found that you had come home two weeks earlier, I could hardly wait till this morning to start."

"We've tried to be cheerful for each other," Nancy said, looking out from her shelter in Aunt Charlotte's arms, "but oh, how good it is to be at home!"

Mollie Merton, and Flossie Barnet had waved to them as they turned in at the great gate, and Uncle Harry had swung his cap gayly, and looked the genuine pleasure that he felt at seeing them again.

"Let's go over to see Dorothy and Nancy," Flossie said, but Uncle Harry laid his hand gently on her arm.

"Not just now, Flossie dear," he said. "My little niece is truly glad to see them, but I think there will be things to talk over, and they have been apart for months, so they should have this evening uninterrupted by any friends."

"I guess that's so," said Flossie, "but it's hard to wait until to-morrow to tell them how glad we are to see them."

"I love dat Dorothy girl, myself," said Uncle Harry's small daughter, "and I love dat Nancy girl, too. Dat Dorothy girl always has candy for me, and dat Nancy girl makes hats for my dolly."

Uncle Harry swung the tiny girl up to a seat on his shoulder, and his blue eyes twinkled as he looked into the little, eager face.

"Don't you love them when they aren't giving you something?" he asked.

"Oh, yes!" said the little maid, "but I love them harder when they do."

"Then you'll love me 'harder' than you do now if I give you a ride up to the house?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, yes!" she cried, and she laughed gayly as she rode in triumph up the driveway, and into the house.

The evening was spent in the big living-room, with a small fire blazing in the fireplace. It had been warm and sunny all day, but when evening came, an east wind had risen, and the happy little party was glad to sit cosily in doors. Dorothy and Nancy listened entranced while Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte told of their travels. They had been south, they had been west, and they had brought home beautiful souvenirs of every place at which they had stayed.

Then Dorothy and Nancy told of the life at Glenmore, of the new friends that they had met, and of Arabella and Patricia.

It was a happy evening.

Mr. Dainty had found it impossible to reach home until a week later, but he had written a longer letter than usual, and had sent one especially to Dorothy, and it seemed almost as if he were really talking to her as she read it.

Bright and early next morning Mollie and Flossie raced over to the Stone House, and the four chattered so fast, that the old gardener at work near the fountain, took off his hat, and for a moment stood listening. He was not near enough to know what they were saying, but he heard their happy voices, now talking, now laughing, and he spoke his thoughts.

"Hear that now, hear that! An' will any man tell me that a garding is a reel garding widout the sound o' merry voices? Sure, it's been so still here the past few weeks that I begun ter talk ter meself, just ter break the stillness, but it didn't do the trick, fer me voice ain't what yo calls 'moosicle.' Oh, hear them now! It does me good, so it does."

There was news, and a plenty of it to tell, and when Dorothy and Nancy had told the happenings at Glenmore, Mollie and Flossie took their turn, and related all the Merrivale news.

"You know Sidney Merrington used to be so lazy last winter that he didn't get on at all at school," said Flossie. "Arithmetic was all that really vexed him, but because he had low marking for that, he wouldn't try hard to do anything else.

"Well, Mollie promised to help him, (you needn't bother to poke me, Mollie, for I will tell) and she did help him every day, and after a while he began to help himself, and last week his average on the exam. was ninety-three. Wasn't that fine? He never would have got that if Mollie hadn't helped him."

"Mollie, you were dear," said Dorothy.

"And Tess Haughton is ever so much nicer than she was," Mollie said, "for she doesn't do anything now that seems,—why not quite true. That doesn't sound just as I mean it. I know how to say it now. I mean that she isn't sly. She is a good playmate, and a good friend."

"Oh, that's fine!" Dorothy and Nancy cried, as if with one voice.

"There's another fine thing to tell," said Flossie. "Reginald Dean, with the help of his big dog saved a little boy from drowning. Reginald saw him fall from the bridge, and he never stopped to think that he isn't very big himself, but jumped right in, and was doing his best to save him, when all at once his strength gave out, and he called for help. He never dreamed that his dog had followed him, until with a splash he jumped into the water close beside him, grabbed his clothes, and dragged the two boys out."

"Wasn't that great?" said Dorothy, her hands tightly clasped, her eyes shining. "Reginald has the new bicycle that he so wanted. His father gave it to him, because he had been brave enough to forget danger, and rush to aid the other boy," said Mollie, "and the dog is wearing a new collar with a brass plate on it, engraved, 'I'm a Life-Saver.'"

"Katie Dean said she was almost sure that she saw Patricia Levine yesterday," said Flossie, "but I said I thought she must still be away at school. Do you know where she is now?"

"She might have seen her, for she left Glenmore before we did," Dorothy said, and she was just in the midst of telling how Patricia had brought the big cat home, and next had appeared with a little dog, when Mollie said:

"Here she comes now. Why, she has a dog with her!"

"That's the one," said Nancy, "and she has him on a leash now, just as she did at Glenmore. I wonder if her aunt likes him. He tears and chews everything he can get hold of."

"Hello!" called Patricia, as soon as she saw them, then, "My! What did you and Nancy get sent home for?"

"We weren't sent home," Nancy said, indignantly.

"Now, Nancy Ferris, Glenmore doesn't close until next week, and here are you two at home."

"That is no sign that we were sent," said Dorothy. "Mother sent for us."

"Oh, was that it?" Patricia said saucily, and then turning to Mollie she asked:

"How do you like my dog? He isn't a pretty dog, but he knows everything, and he always minds. My friends think it is just wonderful the way he minds me. I taught him to. Stop!" she cried. "Stop, I tell you. I won't let you chew the edge of my skirt. Will you stop? Oh, well I don't care if you do chew it. It's an old dress, anyway."

She saw that he would not stop.

"I've named him Diogenes. I don't know who Diogenes was, but I liked the name and he's such a hand to dodge, I thought I'd call him 'Dodgy' for short. Well, I'm sure I don't see why you look so amused. I think I've chosen a grand name for him. Come on, Dodgy!" but the small dog lay down.

"Well, well, how you do act! Come on! Up the street! Come!"

The dog got up, yawned, and then, taking a good hold on the leash, he snatched it from Patricia's hand, and made off with it, as fast as he could scamper, Patricia after him at top speed.

"He minded me that time," she turned to say, then resumed her chase.

The next few days were filled with preparation for the trip to Foam Ridge, and Dorothy and Nancy could think of little else.

Both had felt the constraint at Glenmore which was really necessary at so large a school.

The freedom from study, with its fixed hours would be refreshing.

There would be fine surf at Foam Ridge, and the two had "tried on" their new bathing-suits at least a dozen times. They had studied the elaborate booklet that showed in colors, the beauty-spots of the place, and Dorothy had received a letter from Betty Chase, saying that in a short time she would be there to join them in their sports.

They were wondering what new friends they would make during the summer. Betty, they knew, would be a lively companion.

Of the gay summer at the shore, of the fun and frolic, of the unexpected things that happened, one may read in

"Dorothy Dainty at Foam Ridge."