*TABLE OF CONTENTS*
I. A Résumé
II. A Beginning
III. Bon Voyage
IV. On the High Seas
V. Halifax
VI. The Land of Evangeline
VII. En Route to Digby
VIII. In the Mail
IX. Rambles about Yarmouth
X. Where Is Nancy?
XI. After Effects
XII. The Unexpected
XIII. A Letter
XIV. Plans
XV. Parties
XVI. A Strange Encounter
*CHAPTER I*
*A RÉSUMÉ*
It was one of those chilly, rainy days that sometimes come in early
summer, when a grate fire is not only cheery but almost necessary. Mrs.
Pembroke was embroidering at one side of the hearth, while she visited
with the guest her daughter had brought home from college the preceding
evening.
“It is too bad that Nancy had to leave you the very first thing,”
observed Mrs. Pembroke, glancing at the girl who was sprawled in the big
chair opposite her.
“Oh, I don’t mind; but I’m sorry about her tooth. She said it began to
trouble her yesterday, and I guess she slept very little last night. I
didn’t know about it, or I should have stayed awake with her.”
“Nancy certainly would not have wanted you to do that. So you slept
well; did you?”
“Just like a log. Nan’s room is lovely; but I was so surprised to find
twin beds in it. I had hoped that we would sleep together.”
“We think it is better for people to sleep alone; and Nan so often has
someone here for the night, that I took out the big bed which used to be
in there, and substituted the two singles; though it does crowd the room
a bit.”
Mrs. Pembroke did not mention that the change had been a very recent
one. When her daughter wrote for permission to bring home for the first
two weeks of the summer vacation this singularly unattractive classmate,
she immediately replied that if Nan were willing to have the girl share
her room, she might invite her.
“What’s the idea?” Mr. Pembroke had inquired when he read the letter.
“A twofold one. In the first place, using the guest room makes a lot
more work; and in the second, it is not unwise to let Nancy put up with
a few things. She has always enjoyed all the privileges of an only
child, which have naturally resulted in the development of numerous
little faults——”
“I can’t see them,” interrupted her husband. “Nan’s one fine girl—_I_
think!”
“And I agree with you. I’m just as fond and proud of her as you are; but
you must admit that she is over-impulsive. She jumps into something
without thinking; and then when she gets into difficulties, someone has
to help her out. I just want her to learn to consider all sides of a
project before she undertakes it.”
“Sure, that’s all right; but what has it to do with this Kane girl who
is coming here?” Mrs. Pembroke had smiled and patiently explained. Men
were so slow to grasp an idea, sometimes!
“Nan, who evidently felt sorry for the girl in question—I understand she
has been shunned by all the rest—suddenly decided to ask her here for a
couple of weeks. That is all right, and I admire her for it; _but_ I
want her to carry out her good deed to the very end. If I put Emma in
the guest room, and take her off Nan’s hands a great deal of the time,
how is the experiment going to help our girl? Don’t you see the
situation?”
“No,” Mr. Pembroke had replied bluntly, “I’m afraid I don’t; but as long
as you do, and are satisfied, it’s all right with me.”
A couple of days before college closed, Mrs. Pembroke, who had been
giving some serious thought to the matter, went downtown one morning and
purchased twin beds, a new rug, and new curtains for her daughter’s
room. A wave of gratification swept over her now as she recalled Nancy’s
surprise, delight, and rapturous thanks. She had left Emma getting ready
for bed, and had flown to her mother’s room to give vent to her
enthusiasm which she had concealed from her guest.
Mrs. Pembroke was aroused from her reverie by a question from Emma.
“Jeanette comes here a lot; doesn’t she?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Has she always known Nancy?”
“Since they were little bits of tots. We moved here when Nancy was
little more than a baby, and they went through grade and high school
together. When they were graduated, Nancy did not know whether she
wanted to go to college or not; so she planned to stay home with me a
year, and try to decide. Jeanette was getting ready for Smith when Mr.
Pembroke had to go West on business, to be away for a year. My brother,
Dr. Donovan, persuaded me to go too, as I was not very well at the time,
saying that Nancy could go to the college at Eastport where he lived. So
it was decided; and Jeanette changed her plans, and went to Eastport
too.
“My brother had to go abroad with a patient the following summer, and
Nancy spent the time at Jeanette’s. They took a little trip up the
Rideau Lakes; and later in the summer a friend of Mrs. Grant’s, a Miss
Ashton, took them down the St. Lawrence and up the Saguenay. They
stopped at Tadousac, Quebec, and Montreal, and had a wonderful time. In
the fall, Nancy felt that she simply couldn’t go back to Eastport, with
her uncle still away. You see, they had been very devoted to each other
ever since Nan was a baby, and naturally they had seen a great deal of
each other during Nancy’s Freshman year at Eastport. So she and Jeanette
begged to go to Roxford. From there on, you know their story too.”
“But I thought that the summer after their Sophomore year they went to
New Orleans to visit Nan’s uncle and aunt,” said Emma, frowning in a
puzzled manner.
“They did. Dr. Donovan’s patient, Mr. Doyle, died shortly after they
took him to Germany; and since his widow was ill from strain and shock,
and my brother was taking a course at one of the medical schools, the
two stayed on for a time. Some months later, they married, and the
doctor had an offer of a position in a New Orleans hospital. So they
settled there.”
“Oh, I see. And where are the girls going this summer? I haven’t heard
Nancy say.” Emma had an insatiable curiosity, which she made no attempt
to conceal.
“Miss Ashton and Madelon want them to go to Nova Scotia with them.”
“Madelon? Who is she?”
“A little French girl whom they met in Beaupre, and who came back to
live with Miss Ashton in Boston, and go to high school. She had always
wanted to continue her education in ‘the States,’ as she refers to this
country, and since her foster parents (her own died when she was very
young) did not need her, Miss Ashton invited her to return with them.
She goes to high school in the morning, and takes charge of a doctor’s
office afternoons and a couple of evenings each week.”
“I should like to see Nova Scotia,” observed Emma. “When are they
going?”
“Their plans have not been fully worked out yet; so the exact date has
not been set. But your summer is entirely taken up with invitations from
your college mates; is it not?” asked Mrs. Pembroke, hastening to
discourage any idea of her following the others. She had some Spartan
theories regarding her daughter’s character development, but she did not
want them to spoil a vacation trip.
“Y-e-s, but——”
“I think it is a very fine opportunity for you,” interrupted Mrs.
Pembroke, “and one you should make the most of. It is good for all of us
to share the home lives of others occasionally. We see how things are
done, and get all kinds of new and beneficial ideas. While most of the
girls whom you will visit are not especially wealthy, they are all very
fine girls who know exactly what to do, and how to do it under all
circumstances. Excuse me for being rather frank, Emma—I am speaking to
you exactly as I should if you were Nancy; but since you have not had
the same advantages of home life and training as they, why not observe
closely the ways and customs of your hostesses? Many little personal
habits and niceties you will probably want to adopt for your own.”
The suggestions were difficult to make, but Mrs. Pembroke presented them
in so gentle and charming a manner, that a girl considerably more
sensitive than Emma Kane could hardly have taken offense. She gave all
her attention at this point to a difficult spray in the embroidery
pattern, and Emma thought about the various girls whom she was to visit.
Nancy and Jeanette, with eight other girls of their class, had, during
Junior year, formed a secret club whose object was charity of various
kinds. When Nan and Janie had announced their intention of devoting part
of their summer vacation to trying to “make over” Emma Kane, the other
members of the club had each volunteered to entertain the girl for a
week.
Emma had been unpopular all through her college course. Besides being
unattractive, she was careless about her personal appearance, lacking in
all the niceties of manner that seemed to come so naturally to the rest
of the girls, and was always forcing herself upon people. She was
naturally sociable, and apparently failed to realize why the other girls
avoided her.
Early in their Junior year, she paid considerable attention to Nancy,
who, acting on the advice of her friends, discouraged any intimacy. The
matter rather troubled Nancy throughout the year; for she thought that
something might be made of the girl, and that at least some effort ought
to be made. Hence her invitation to Emma to spend the first week of the
vacation at the Pembroke home.
*CHAPTER II*
*A BEGINNING*
“Emma,” said Nancy suddenly, after they were settled in bed some nights
later, “why don’t you have your hair bobbed?”
Several days had passed, and nothing had yet been accomplished; and she
did _so_ want to pass her guest on to the other girls greatly improved.
“Why bother? I can twist it up in a couple of minutes,” replied Emma,
only mildly interested.
“But I think it would be so much more becoming if it were short.”
“I’m not one to fuss about looking well. I’m so homely anyway that it
doesn’t matter.”
There was something a bit pathetic about the admission, but it rather
annoyed Nancy.
“That’s all nonsense!” she snapped. “It is everybody’s duty to look her
best at all times.”
“How so?”
Emma, was obviously surprised at her vehemence.
“Because other people have to look at us; and because, too, it gives one
poise and confidence, and therefore affects one’s accomplishments.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Well, for example. The day we had to give our dissertations in
Economics class, I was scared positively _green_. The idea of getting up
in front, and facing that big class of men and women, and talking for
twenty minutes about Corn Laws simply petrified me. So I took extra
pains with my toilet that morning, used my favorite soap, bath salts,
and powder; and put on my blue crêpe which I like a heap. I felt just
fine, and knew that I looked well; and _that_ gave me confidence.
Confidence in its turn made me do well with the dissertation. I don’t
mean by that that just dressing up without knowing anything would have
enabled me to put the dissertation over; but being pretty well prepared,
_and_ being conscious of looking well, worked together. Do you see?”
“Why, I guess so; but you do an awful lot of fussing over yourself,
Nan.”
“No, I really don’t, Emma. I simply make an effort to live up to all the
modern ideas of health and cleanliness, and to have as good clothes as I
can afford; and take care of them. That is what every girl in our crowd
does.”
“I read a story the other day,” Nancy continued, after a pause during
which Emma was apparently doing some thinking, “about a girl in some
college or other who had a special gift for making people look their
best; and she worked up a regular business. The girls were glad to pay
her for helping them choose clothes especially suited to their
individual types, and to advise them concerning their style of
hairdressing, as well as the question of manicures, powders, perfumes,
etc.”
“What a funny business,” was Emma’s sole comment. Obviously she was
somewhat bored, and anxious to go to sleep.
“Seriously, Emma,” went on Nancy, almost in desperation—wasn’t it
possible to make a dent on this girl at all?—“if you can afford to spend
a little, why don’t you get all fixed up this summer and create a
sensation when you go back to college in the fall?”
“Create a sensation.” That was a clever idea. Nancy had quite
unconsciously hit upon a phase of the situation which was most likely to
make an impression on her indifferent protégée. Emma had always been
eager to attract the attention of her fellow students, even if she could
not secure their affection. Her own methods had proved a complete
failure. No harm to try someone else’s now.
“It _would_ be fun,” she answered, showing more than a spark of
interest. “And I can afford it all right.”
“Then let’s do it!” urged Nancy. “We’ll begin right away to-morrow.
Janie and I shall just love helping you; that is, if you will let us,”
she added somewhat doubtfully. She mustn’t go too fast.
“Oh, I shall. Now I’ve decided upon such a course, I’ll let you manage
everything. You two know more about such things than I do.”
“I can hardly wait for morning!” cried Nancy enthusiastically some
minutes later, as they settled down for sleep.
“Moms, we’re going downtown this morning,” said Nancy at the breakfast
table.
She had already telephoned Jeanette the good news, and secured a promise
of her company for the day.
“We have a lot to do,” she went on; “and if you don’t mind, I think
we’ll have lunch at Sloan’s.”
“Of course, I don’t mind in the least. But you are not going to buy your
fall outfit so early, I hope.”
“No,” laughed Nancy. “I need a summer one first; but I want to talk over
my wardrobe with you first. Emma is going to do the shopping to-day——”
“Don’t tell her! Don’t tell her!” begged Emma. “Let’s surprise her.”
“All right,” agreed Nancy, as they arose from the table. “Hurry and get
ready. I told Janie we’d stop for her at half-past eight, and it’s
twenty after now.”
It was a little after eight thirty when the three girls turned out of
the Grant yard, and headed for the near-by car line. The car was
crowded, and they could not get seats together; so there was no further
opportunity for conversation until they got off on Main Street.
“Where first?” inquired Jeanette.
“To the Salon of Monsieur Louis. We haven’t any appointment; but he is
rarely busy so early as this, and I am in hopes he will attend to us
himself.”
“_Bon jour, bon jour!_” The little proprietor of the beauty parlor came
toward them, rubbing his hands together as they entered his mauve and
pink waiting room. “And what ees it that I may do for you _ce matin_?”
“This lady wants one of your marvelous hair cuts, Monsieur,” said Nancy,
drawing Emma forward; “and then a permanent.”
“_Oui, oui;_ in here plees.”
He settled her in one of the little booths, and proceeded to give her a
most fashionable cut, after studying her from all angles.
Nancy had been somewhat afraid that Emma would protest against the
discomfort involved in obtaining a permanent wave; but she sat rigid,
and, for once, quite speechless.
“She looks scared,” commented Jeanette, peering in from the waiting room
where she and Nancy sat completing the day’s plans.
“She probably is,” said Nancy emphatically. “I know I felt almost afraid
to breathe when I was having my first one. I believe I thought I might
be electrocuted when the current was turned on.”
“I hope her head looks well; so we can make a fuss over it and encourage
her to go on with the making-over process. Don’t you?”
“I certainly do; but I think she’ll go on all right,” replied Nancy. “It
is hard trying to undo the habits of years in so short a time. The
buying of new clothes is fairly simple, but getting her to take proper
care of them, and making her see that daily baths, frequent manicures,
and the use of various creams and powders are essential—_that_ is an
entirely different matter. Sometimes when I see her attitude, I feel
quite hopeless, and wonder if we shall ever accomplish anything.”
“Poor Nancy!” said Jeanette.
A little later Jeanette commented, “Her table manners are not bad——”
“Thank goodness for that,” said Nancy fervently.
“But she laughs so loudly,” went on Jeanette, “and tries to be so
demonstrative with people, even when she is not very well acquainted
with them, that it is, well, embarrassing, to say the least.”
“I know it,” agreed Nancy; “and she is really very careless about
putting away her various belongings. I can readily understand why her
things always look so—so bedraggled! I’m not talking about her to be
mean, but I am trying to pick out the habits that are different from
those of other nice girls so we can concentrate on them.”
At last the dryer completed its work, and after a few finishing touches
by Monsieur Louis, Emma was released.
“Oh, Emma, it’s lovely!” cried Nancy in genuine admiration, as she came
out and stood before them. “What a difference it makes; doesn’t it,
Janie?”
“It certainly does,” agreed Jeanette. “The style suits you perfectly.”
How glad Jeanette was that she could make the statement honestly!
“Don’t you like it, Emma?” asked Nancy anxiously; for the girl was
unnaturally quiet.
“Yes, I think so. But to tell the truth, I feel a little dazed.”
“Oh, that’s part of the process,” said Nancy, relieved. “It comes from
being under the dryer so long. The noise combined with the heat is
rather stupefying. You’ll wake up when we get out into the air.”
Monsieur Louis bowed them out, and they hurried toward the elevator.
“I think we had better have lunch now,” said Nancy, when they were once
more on Main Street. “Shall we go to Sloan’s, Janie?”
“It is as good as any other place near by; and then we’ll be right in
the building where we intend to do most of our shopping.”
Soon they were seated in the big tea room, with menus in front of them.
“This is _my_ party,” announced Emma.
“Janie and I usually go ‘Dutch,’” said Nancy; “but you are our guest
this time.”
“You can go ‘Dutch’ any other time you like,” replied Emma; “but even
though I am your guest, this lunch is on me—a sort of celebration.”
While they ate they made out a list of exactly what Emma needed, which
was pretty much a complete outfit.
“But we can never do all this in one day,” said Janie, looking in dismay
at the long list.
“Well, there are lots of days coming,” said Nancy, laughing. “We’ll go
as far as we can to-day, and then ‘continue it in our next’ like the
serial stories.”
“Nan, dear,” protested Jeanette, gently, “don’t laugh quite so loudly.”
Nancy looked up in astonishment, for her laughter had been perfectly
modulated. Jeanette looked at her intently for a moment; then she
understood.
“You’re right, Janie,” she said. “I should have been more careful.”
“Why, what’s the difference?” demanded Emma in a puzzled tone.
“Good breeding forbids a loud laugh anywhere, but most of all in a
public place,” explained Jeanette.
“It does not harm anyone,” persisted Emma.
“Only one’s self. A real lady tries not to attract attention or make
herself conspicuous,” said Jeanette patiently. “Loud laughing or talking
is not good form, in public places especially.”
“And you see,” went on Nancy, “Janie and I know each other so well that
we are quite at liberty to offer corrections when they seem in order. We
agreed to that many years ago. The people we are with see many of our
faults which we are unconscious of; and it helps a lot to have someone
who really cares, tell us about them.”
Emma said no more on the subject; but the girls noticed after that a
tendency to lower her voice and check her laughter. Nancy and Jeanette
had been early trained to buy wisely and well, and knew good values as
well as up-to-the-minute styles. All the rest of the day was spent in
obtaining a coat, a couple of hats, gloves, and footwear.
“To-morrow,” said Nancy, when they were riding home, “we’ll go down
again and get underwear and dresses—I just _love_ to buy dresses!”
“Then next day,” added Jeanette, “Emma can have a manicure, and get a
bag and the other things that we’ve forgotten; then she’ll be all fixed,
outside.”
“Outside?” repeated Emma, somewhat puzzled.
“Well, you see,” replied Nancy lightly, “there are various personal and
social customs which should go with a lovely wardrobe like yours; and
you’ll want to adopt them, I’m sure. Janie is awfully good at that sort
of thing, and you’ll learn lots when you are with her.”
“That’s so! My visit at your house is nearly over. I’ve had such a
lovely time that I hate to leave; though, of course, I’m glad to stay
with the rest of the girls too.”
The remainder of that week and the next passed more quickly than the
girls had thought possible. They had just seen Emma off on the night
train, which would get her to Plattsburg early the following morning,
where Ethel King would meet her and drive her to the King cottage on the
shore of Lake Champlain.
“Well, Janie?” said Nancy, as they came out of the station.
“Well, Nancy?” replied Jeanette.
“It’s over.”
“Yes; and how much of an impression do you suppose we’ve made—lasting
impression, I mean?”
“A decided one, I think. You, poor dear, had a harder time than I did.”
“Why?” asked Jeanette, in surprise.
“Because you had to be a kind of habits-and-manners instructor, while I
was only a costumer.”
“Oh; but Mother helped me a lot. She was very lovely to Emma, and really
did much for her. Mother is so tactful, you know.”
“Yes; and she is something like Miss Ashton in her affection for and
interest in young girls; isn’t she?”
“Something; even more so, I think, since Georgia disappeared.”
Georgia Crane was a girl whom Nancy and Jeanette had met under rather
odd circumstances during their Sophomore year at Roxford. After a time
she had gone to board with Mrs. Grant, who mothered her very much as she
did her own daughter. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding, Georgia
left their house one night, without their knowledge, and, despite their
efforts to find her, had never been heard of since.
“I wish I knew where she is.”
“So do I. Do you suppose she will ever come back?”
“I doubt it; but I feel quite sure that we shall hear from her or run
across her sometime; probably when we least expect it.”
“Now for our own shopping, and preparations for our trip.”
“I’m just crazy to go!”
Nancy gave vent to her pleasant anticipation by dancing a few steps, to
the great disapproval of the man in front of her, upon whose heels she
trod.
“We had a letter from Miss Ashton to-day,” said Jeanette, when they had
stopped giggling over the look the man gave Nancy.
“And what did she say?” asked Nan eagerly.
“She has engaged a stateroom on one of the boats from Boston to
Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, for the tenth of August. Madelon has gone back to
Beaupre for a couple of weeks——”
“What for?” interrupted Nancy, in disgust.
“Her foster mother is ill; and, since her daughter has married and gone
to live at Batiscan, she is lonely. Madelon could not withstand her
appeal for a short visit.”
“She was ready enough to get rid of Madelon when she didn’t need her!”
said Nancy, vehemently. Then she added, “But, of course, she doubtless
did do a lot for Madelon when she was little; and I do admire her for
going back, in spite of the way she treated her in later years.”
“Well, anyhow,” continued Jeanette, “Madelon will be back in Boston
about the first of August; and Miss Ashton suggested that we go down
about that time, or a few days later, so as to have a little time to
look about Boston before we sail.”
“‘Sail!’ Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
“But don’t get your hopes of the trip up too high, Nan; that is, the
ocean part of it. I understand it is often quite rough; so there is
quite a possibility of being sick.”
“Oh, Janie, be an optimist! I read recently that seasickness is nothing
more than a condition of the mind. We just won’t _be_ sick.”
“Coming in?” asked Jeanette, as they passed in front of her house, which
they reached at that point in their discussion.
“No, not to-night. I’m going home and visit with Mother and Dad. I have
hardly seen them alone since our guest arrived.”
“All right. I’ll see you sometime to-morrow, then.”
“Yes; and we’ll make a list of what we are going to need for our
travels.”
*CHAPTER III*
*BON VOYAGE*
“There is one thing I _must_ have,” decreed Nancy, a few days later, as
she and Jeanette were setting out on one of their frequent shopping
excursions.
“What’s that?”
“A new suitcase.”
“But Nan,” objected Jeanette, “you bought one when we went to New
Orleans!”
“I know it; and when I got home from college this June, someone had
kindly put a hole right through the side of it. Under the circumstances,
even a person as economically-minded as you are, must admit that I can’t
carry a suitcase in such a condition. I saw a new kind advertised the
other day, called a wardrobe suitcase; and I thought we’d go to
Leonard’s now and look at one. Dad said he would buy it for me as a sort
of going-away present, if it doesn’t cost too much.”
Before long they were in the luggage store, listening to the persuasive
voice of the salesman, who was enlarging on the advantages of that
particular type of suitcase.
“It _is_ lovely,” agreed Jeanette, as Nancy exclaimed over the little
compartment for shoes, and a larger one for hats and underwear.
“And you see,” continued the clerk, “this rod in the cover lifts out so
you can hang several dresses on it, by folding them once; then you put
the rod back, press it in, snap these elastic bands across, and your
clothing will come out without a wrinkle.”
The price of the suitcase was not prohibitive, since a special sale was
going on; so Nancy bought it, and left it to be marked.
“Now where?” asked Jeanette.
“Dresses at Sloan’s. I’ll have to get some kind of a cool silk to travel
in.”
“And I must buy a silk hat.”
“I wanted a new formal gown,” continued Nancy; “but Mother convinced me
that it would be better to take the rose chiffon and the cream lace that
I had at college, and get new evening dresses before we go back for our
Senior year.”
“That’s what my mother said too; so my blue and silver georgette and my
flowered chiffon will keep company with yours. At least they will feel
at home together. What about sports clothes?”
“I’m to get material for two dresses to-day; and Mother is going to make
them. I want a white crêpe de chine, and a blue something or other.”
“I hope you find the blue without any difficulty,” laughed Jeanette. “I
am going to use the red and white printed silk that I had last year, and
buy a white ‘something or other.’”
“Then we both have pleated skirts and sweaters for the boat, and I’m
going to stick in my printed crêpe. Why don’t you take yours too?”
“They would be awfully handy for filling in, even if they are old,”
admitted Jeanette. “Anyway, they look well; so no one but you and me
will know that they’re not new.”
“Mother thought that would be plenty to take in the line of dresses.
I’ll wear my travel coat, of course, and put the white flannel in my
_new wardrobe suitcase_.”
“How proudly you say that!”
“We really could manage better if we took one trunk, as we did to New
Orleans——”
“Yes, but Miss Ashton thought that since we’d be moving about so much in
Nova Scotia, it would be much better to take just suitcases; and, she
added, as few as possible.”
“Have you heard anything more from her? This is the first of August.”
“No, we haven’t. Perhaps there will be some word when I get home.”
After dinner that evening, the Grant family strolled down to the
Pembroke home.
“Oh, come in, come in,” said Mr. Pembroke, holding open the screen door.
“I was very late in getting home, and we’re still at table; but you
won’t mind coming out into the dining room.”
“And you’re just in time to have dessert with us,” said Mrs. Pembroke,
making room for them at the table.
“But we’ve had our dinner,” protested Mrs. Grant.
“Even so, you can surely eat some lemon sherbet,” said Nancy. “Mother
made heaps of it to-day.”
“I never could refuse sherbet,” sighed Jeanette. “I just love it.”
Nothing was said about their real errand until the sherbet was finished,
and they had all gathered on the wide front porch where the moon,
shining through the vines, made a leafy pattern on the floor.
“We heard from Lois to-day,” began Mrs. Grant.
“We’re not going!” thought Nancy, quick to detect the reluctant note in
her voice.
“Things are not going to work out quite the way she hoped,” went on
Jeanette’s mother. “Madelon, poor child, feels that she can not possibly
leave her foster mother this summer——”
“How is that?” asked Mrs. Pembroke.
“It seems that the woman is laid up with an attack of rheumatism, and
has no one to take care of her——”
“But where is her husband?” interrupted Nancy.
“He has to work in the fields, getting in the winter crops; so she is
alone all day long,” replied Mrs. Grant. “Madelon wrote Lois that she
herself is terribly disappointed at having to give up the Nova Scotia
trip, but since her foster mother was so very good to her when she was
little, she really felt it would not be right to leave her in this
emergency. And I’m afraid we shall all have to admit that she is right.”
“The poor child!” murmured Mrs. Pembroke.
“Yes, I feel very sorry for her, especially since I imagine, from what
Lois says, that her patient is very _im_patient.”
“However,” continued Mrs. Grant briskly, after a few minutes’ silence,
“we cannot help Madelon by giving up our own plans. Lois suggests that
the girls ask one of their friends to take Madelon’s place, since there
are two staterooms reserved——”
“Martha!” cried Nancy and Jeanette in one breath.
“Let’s wire her right away!” exclaimed Nancy, jumping up.
“Just a minute,” protested Mrs. Grant, catching hold of Nancy’s arm.
“Lois is unfortunately out on a case, and will be able to get off only
in time to meet you girls at the boat. She closed the apartment for the
rest of the summer, before she left, thinking that Madelon would be back
to entertain you; but——”
“Oh, that’s all right; we can go to a hotel,” interrupted Nancy.
“Is it necessary to stay overnight in Boston?” inquired Mrs. Pembroke,
anxiously.
“Is is if they go down by day,” replied her husband.
“And we want to,” said Nancy quickly. “I hate to travel at night. You
never sleep well, and you don’t see a thing!”
“It will be all right,” said Mr. Grant. “They will have to learn how to
look after themselves sometime. Why not begin now?”
“Good for you!” cried Nancy. “One would think we had never gone anywhere
alone. Remember the Rideau? And way down to New Orleans? And we didn’t
get into any difficulties. We may stay at the hotel overnight; mayn’t
we, Moms?”
“If the rest of you are satisfied, I suppose so,” replied her mother,
somewhat reluctantly.
“Under the circumstances,” said Mrs. Grant, “I thought it would be
better to omit the sight-seeing trip, and go down on Saturday. The boat
sails Sunday afternoon. Perhaps when you get back, Lois will be able to
go about the city with you,” she added, seeing the disappointed looks on
the faces of both girls.
“Come on, Janie, help me wire Martha now that we have full particulars
to give her,” urged Nancy.
“Let’s write a letter, so we can tell her everything. If we put a
special delivery stamp on it, and run downtown to mail it, she’ll get it
in the morning.”