oh, yes; how do you do, Ada? I've not seen you for a long time," and
the doll's hand was gravely shaken by Aunt Dora, to Eleanor's delight.
"Let us go right upstairs," continued Aunt Dora, holding Eleanor's
hand closely in hers. "You are to have a little room next to mine. It
isn't very big, but I think you and Ada will fit into it without much
crowding."
"It isn't Rock's room?" said Eleanor, with a remembrance of her late
trials in some such direction.
"No, he has a room back of mine. I am so glad to get home again and to
have you come to us right away. It seems so very lonely without any
children in the house. I can hardly wait till Rock's holiday begins, to
have him with me again. I know he is counting the days."
"Yes, he wrote to me that he was. He makes a little mark on his
calendar every day."
"Yes, I know; the dear child. I have been planning a number of things
for the holidays, but first I must tell you about your papa; he is
really getting better, and I think if he will only consent to stay
long enough, that he will come back quite well." She stooped to kiss
Eleanor, and then continued: "You were a dear child not to write to
them of your worries."
"How did you know?"
"A little bird told me."
"Rock?"
"Maybe. We might call it a rock wren."
"Oh, Aunt Dora, has Rock had the whooping-cough?"
"Yes, several years ago."
"Did you know I had it?"
"Yes, your Uncle Heath wrote me that you had, and I have been thinking
ever since, just suppose that Ada should take it!" Aunt Dora raised her
hands in comic distress, and Eleanor looked gravely at her doll as if
there were danger in that direction.
"Never mind," said her Aunt Dora; "she will not take it, I am sure. Now
we will go down to dinner, if you are ready, and to-morrow I know the
first person you will want to see."
"Florence?"
Aunt Dora nodded yes. "She is to come over to luncheon and the next day
we will go out to do our Christmas shopping."
"Oh!" Eleanor was delighted, and she skipped downstairs by her aunt's
side, looking very unlike the forlorn little figure waiting on the
roadside for the butterman.
After dinner her uncle played dominoes with her and then her aunt took
her upstairs and read a lovely fairy tale to her, and after she was
snugly tucked in bed she had to have many good-night kisses before she
was satisfied.
_CHAPTER VIII_
_Shopping_
Two such happy little girls they were who met the next morning; and for
the first fifteen minutes they talked and laughed so hard that they
nearly whooped themselves speechless for the rest of the day to make up
for it, and when Eleanor, with very red weeping eyes and a puffed face
found breath her first words were, "Isn't it perfectly splendid that I
have the whooping-cough, too?"
And Florence, between whoops, spluttered, "Splendid."
"This is the first time I ever knew it to be cause for congratulation,"
said Aunt Dora laughing. "Now, this is market day, so, I am going to
leave you to your own devices. I may be back before luncheon, and I may
not. Meantime, make yourselves perfectly at home. You can play in the
library or in Rock's room or anywhere, but in the parlor." Then she
left them.
"You must see my lovely new Ada; she is a darling. Aunt Dora gave her
to me, and she is such a comfort," said Eleanor. "I brought Celestine
too."
"And I brought Rubina," said Florence; "she has a new hat."
"I think we'd better play in the library," said Eleanor. "It has such
a nice bay window and we can have that for one house and the place
over by the mantel for the other house. It is so perfectly lovely to
see you again, Florence." And they, forthwith, proceeded to establish
themselves for a morning's play, chattering as fast as their tongues
could run, so that lunch time came before they were aware of it, and
then, after all, Aunt Dora did not come home, but sent some dainties
from the market and with their dolls they had luncheon at a small table
in the library.
[Illustration: "THEY HAD LUNCHEON IN THE LIBRARY"]
"Isn't it fine to have Rubina and Celestine together again?" said
Florence. "Did Bubbles take Floridy Alabamy away with her? Poor
Bubbles, I do hope your uncle will find her."
"I hope so too," returned Eleanor with a sigh. "Yes, she took her doll,
but she is such a forlorn looking creature; that horrid Donald got
hold of her one day and pretended she was a witch and must be burned at
the stake. Bubbles found it out just in time to save her, but her hair
was singed off, and she has to wear a cap all the time."
"Aren't boys horrid?" said Florence in a disgusted tone.
"Some boys," returned Eleanor; "Rock isn't."
"No, he isn't, but Dimple, I should think you would be glad to leave
that Cousin Ellen family. Sister says she doesn't think that relations
are a bit nice."
"Why, Florence, we are relations."
"Yes, I know. I don't suppose she means that none of them are nice. I
think she means that they are so likely to think they can pick you to
pieces and find fault with you just because they are relations. Most of
mine are that way. You know Cousin Ellen is my mamma's cousin, too, and
I never did like to see her when she used to come to our house."
"Oh, well," said Eleanor with a satisfied sigh, "we don't have to think
about her any more."
Nevertheless, she did much thinking on account of Cousin Ellen and her
family, that very evening. Just after dinner her Aunt Dora said: "We
must make out our shopping lists, Dimple, for we are going to start out
early to-morrow."
"Let me see your purse, Dimple," said Uncle Heath, looking up from his
evening paper.
Eleanor obediently went upstairs and brought down her little netted
purse; it had in it one dollar and two quarters.
"How many Christmas gifts do you expect this to buy?" asked Uncle Heath
smiling.
"Why, let me see;" Eleanor began to count on her fingers; "mamma, one,
and papa, two; you and Aunt Dora and Rock and Florence and Bubbles, I
should like to get Bubbles a new doll, and I do want so much to send
just a little something to Mrs. Snyder. Then I should like something
for Miss Reese and I always give Sylvy a present. How many does that
make? Ten, I believe."
Her uncle chinked her coins in his hand, and looked at his wife with a
smile. "Then, you will have just fifteen cents apiece. I'm afraid you
cannot buy very magnificent things with that amount."
"And how about your cousins, the Murdochs?" asked Mrs. Dallas quietly.
"They will have no papa to buy them gifts this year, and I am afraid
it will be rather a sad Christmas for them." Eleanor's speaking face
clouded, and she gave a long sigh, before she said, "I don't love them
very much, Aunt Dora, but--Uncle Heath, must I give them Christmas
gifts? That would make five more, you know, and--no, I don't love them
enough."
"Suppose, instead of being merely ill and away from you, your papa
should be gone from this earth, and that, in consequence, the lovely
Christmas you always have had should be a very sad one this year."
"Yes, I know," replied Eleanor thoughtfully, "but I'd have you and
Uncle Heath and Aunt Nellie and all of them to give me Christmas gifts."
Her uncle laughed. "Her wounds are too recent for her to be worked
upon in any such way, Dora. How much money did you say you had in your
purse, Dimple?"
"A silver dollar and two quarters."
Her uncle handed the small purse back to her. "Look again; I'm afraid
you don't know how to count."
Eleanor emptied the purse into her lap, and lo! instead of only one
dollar there were five. She gave a scream of delight. "Oh, Uncle Heath,
how dear you are. Do you truly mean this all for me?"
"What a question. What is in your purse is yours, isn't it? I told you
that you didn't know how to count." And this was all the satisfaction
she could get from him, although there was no doubt that Uncle Heath
had slipped in the extra dollars.
"Now, I can get a doll for Bubbles, for we must find her," she said.
"Now I shall have fifty cents instead of fifteen; no, I shall have more
than that." She fingered the money absently. "Aunt Dora," she said
after a pause, "I will get something for Cousin Ellen and all of them.
To be sure they were not very nice to me, but I said hateful things,
too, and I'd feel better about it if I were to send them something.
I could spend twenty-five cents on each of them, you know, and, even
then, I'd have more than I thought I should have for every one else."
Her Aunt Dora smiled. "What did I tell you, Heath? Well, dear, I think
that will be a very good plan, and I am sure that we can find some very
pretty little gifts to-morrow, perhaps for even less than twenty-five
cents. Now, I tell you what I should do: I should spend the most, as
you ought to do, upon your father and mother, and then get Bubbles her
doll. After that we can spend the rest of the money upon the remaining
persons."
This suited Eleanor exactly, and she said so. But just at this moment
came a ring at the door and a telegram was handed to Mr. Dallas. He
read it and looked up brightly at Eleanor. "Bubbles is found," he said;
"she is at the hospital from which I have just received this telegram.
I left word at each one of them that I was to be informed if a child
of her description should come in. It seems she is not in a very bad
state, but has a broken arm."
"Oh," Eleanor clasped her hands, "dear Uncle Heath, can we go get her
right away?"
"Why, no, I'm afraid not."
Eleanor looked disappointed. "Why not?"
"First, because it is after visiting hours, and second, because a
little girl with the whooping-cough would hardly be admitted into the
ward of a hospital."
"Oh, I forgot that."
"She will be well taken care of, dear," said Aunt Dora. "I am very glad
she is in so safe a place. To-morrow, before we do any of our shopping,
we will stop at the hospital and learn how she is. It is much better to
allow her to remain there till she is able to be moved safely, than to
try to take her away now. You know we cannot tell yet just how she may
be."
Eleanor agreed that it was best to wait. "But I hope she will be well
by Christmas," she said.
As it proved, Bubbles was not in so desperately bad a condition. She
had, indeed, been with the gipsies, some of whom she met as she was
trudging along toward Sylvy's, after having missed seeing Mr. Snyder.
The bright wagons and gay dresses attracted her and she lingered by
the way to watch this troupe of wandering people. One of the men was
training a restive young horse which came dashing down the road, and as
Bubbles tried to get out of the way, she was struck by another horse
which had become excited and had broken loose. A broken arm and some
bruises were the result for Bubbles. It was at first feared that she
might be injured internally, but after a week's nursing, it was found
that she was not, and a portion of the encampment having been started
on ahead, Bubbles was sent with them that she might sooner reach the
city and be placed in a hospital where she could receive attention and
communicate with her friends. She had sent word by one of the gipsy
boys to Sylvy of her whereabouts but the message failed of delivery.
The two little girls waiting outside in the carriage while Mrs. Dallas
made her call, greeted her eagerly, when she came out, and listened
with the greatest interest to the report, asking all manner of
questions. "Wasn't she glad to see you? Is she very sick? What is the
matter besides the broken arm? Did the gipsies take her there? How long
has she got to stay?" The questions came tumbling over one another till
Mrs. Dallas declared she did not know which to answer.
"One at a time," she said laughing. "She was perfectly delighted to see
me, poor little soul; she looks quite weak and miserable but she will
have every care. I saw the head nurse, and she told me that Bubbles is
in no danger. She has a broken arm and had a big lump on her head which
made her delirious for several days. The gipsies were very kind to her
and took her to the hospital. She will probably be out in a couple of
weeks."
"By Christmas?" Eleanor asked.
"Yes, I hope so, at least, if she improves as they think she will. She
sent her love to you and Florence, and she said that one of the gipsy
children had stolen her doll, so we shall get her one to-day, instead
of waiting to give it to her at Christmas. I think she would rather
have that than anything else. She is perfectly content, now that she
knows we are near her, and that she is to come to our house as soon as
she is able. I promised that I would go to see her as often as I could."
Eleanor gave a deep sigh. "I'm so thankful," she said. "Poor little
Bubbles." The child was not looking very bright, and Mrs. Dallas
concluded that the shopping expedition should be very short that day.
They did their shopping in rather a funny way, for Aunt Dora thought
it was not best for them to go into the shops themselves, and so, she
selected the articles and brought them out to the carriage that Eleanor
might approve them before they were sent home. Of course in every case
she was entirely satisfied, and when they came to Florence's present
that young person turned her head and shut her eyes tight that she
might not get even a glimpse of the game that Aunt Dora had selected.
But when it came to the present for Aunt Dora here was a quandary,
till Aunt Dora suggested that they should stop before the shop where
the purchase was to be made and she would send a salesman out to wait
upon them while she went on to another shop where they could call for
her. This plan worked very well and a pretty little candlestick for
her writing desk was carefully placed among the packages in the small
basket which was provided for the articles which they were to take home
themselves.
The first purchase was the doll for Bubbles, and Florence suggested
that it should be as much like Eleanor as possible, therefore, a fair
creature with light flowing locks and blue eyes was chosen.
For her father, "a book which will make him laugh," Eleanor decided
upon. "And for my blessed mamma something very lovely," and after
looking at many things, a very dainty, fluffy tie was chosen because
Aunt Dora said it would be easy to send it by mail. The rest of the
purchases were put off till another time, and the next morning after
the doll had been left at the hospital for Bubbles they continued their
shopping, getting a game for Rock, a cup and saucer for Uncle Heath,
a bright necktie for Sylvy, a pretty booklet for Miss Reese, and a
comical little match-safe for Mrs. Snyder, "so she will think of me
every time she lights her lamp," Eleanor said. After this, the Murdoch
family had to be disposed of, and this took the rest of the morning,
so that Eleanor returned home with an empty purse but with a well
satisfied feeling at having provided for every one.
The next day was to be spent with Florence, and when Eleanor put her
head on her pillow that night, although she was a very tired little
girl she had before her a pleasant anticipation and no regrets. Her
last thought before going to sleep was, "I am glad I got something for
Cousin Ellen and the children," and she fell asleep at peace with the
whole world.
When she awoke the next morning the ground was covered with snow
and her aunt met her with: "I wonder if it is prudent to send the
whooping-cough out of doors to-day. A fresh snow is liable to give
fresh cold. Shall you be much disappointed, Dimple, if I ask you to
stay at home to-day?"
"I did want to go so much," she said wistfully.
"I know you did, but although it is not very far to Florence's house,
the cars will not take you there, and even if they did, I should not
want you to go that way. You would best stay at home, I think, and we
can make a new dress and a hat for Bubbles' doll."
At this Eleanor's face brightened and when Uncle Heath volunteered to
stop at Mr. Graham's and ask if Florence could come and spend the day
with Eleanor, if an opportunity occurred to send her around, Eleanor
was quite satisfied. "I am glad Aunt Nellie has a carriage," she said,
"for Florence will be so much more likely to come. I think it was
very nice for Aunt Nell to let us go shopping in the carriage, for I
couldn't have gone at all any other way."
About noon the jingle of sleigh-bells announced the approach of a
sleigh, and looking out of the window there Eleanor saw Florence and
her eldest sister. Florence was seen to hop out and then the sleigh
drove off. Eleanor ran down into the hall to greet her cousin. "Hurry,
Florence," she said. "I am so glad you came. We are dressing Bubbles'
doll, at least, we are making a new dress for her, and a hat and coat.
Come right upstairs."
"I can stay till three o'clock," Florence told her, "and then mamma
will stop for me, and she wants you to go for a little ride in the
sleigh. Should you like to?"
"Of course," Eleanor answered. "I was just wishing that I could go when
I heard your bells jingling. Dr. Sullivan sometimes takes me with him
at home, but not very often."
"We don't often have sleighing," returned Florence. "At least, not to
last very long. I am glad we have some while you are here. Oh, Dimple,
there are so many mysteries at home; I can hardly wait till Christmas.
We are going to have a tree. Are you?"
"Yes, Aunt Dora says she is glad to have the excuse to have one; it
seems so much more Christmassy."
They spent the next hour or two in helping to make the doll clothes,
or, at least, they thought they were helping, though it must be
confessed that Aunt Dora did most of the work. At three o'clock the
sleigh came jingling up, and they had a fine drive out through the park
and Eleanor came home with more color in her cheeks than they had worn
for some weeks.
_CHAPTER IX_
_At Christmas_
The next day Eleanor was able to go over to her Aunt Nellie's, for
the sun was shining brightly, and the pavements were cleared of snow.
Florence and her other cousins greeted her warmly. They were all much
excited over the approach of Christmas, and Eleanor was piloted up
to the nursery, "Because," said Florence, "there is so much going on
downstairs, and some of sister's friends will be down in our room.
Mamma has gone out, but she will be back directly." And they proceeded
to establish themselves and set to work industriously to finish some
embroidery which each had to have ready for Christmas. They had hardly
begun to work, however, when Mrs. Graham appeared, and Eleanor scurried
her bit of linen out of sight, but Florence arose to the occasion with:
"Mamma, Dimple and I have been talking about the Christmas party that
we always have. We were wondering how we could manage it this year
when we all have the whooping-cough. We have a lovely plan, though."
"Have you?" said her mother, sitting down and drawing off her gloves.
"Let us hear it."
"Why," answered Florence, looking very wise as she threaded her needle,
"we think it would be nice to have a whooping party."
Her mother laughed. "That's a queer sort of party. Do you mean to play
Indian?"
"No, I mean we can have all the little girls and boys that are having
the whooping-cough and that can't go to school or anywhere."
"And how many do you suppose that will be?"
"I don't know. I know four or five. May we have it, mamma?"
"Why, I don't know. I shall have to think about it. I suppose I should
have to furnish lozenges and cough syrup for refreshments."
Florence laughed; it struck her as a very funny sort of refreshment,
but she knew her mother was joking, although she added quite seriously,
"We should have to be careful not to have anything very rich, you
know. I think, after all, you'd best think of something else, for, a
room full of children whooping and choking one after another, would be
rather an unpleasant scene. Don't you think something else would be
more amusing? You and Dimple put your thinking-caps on and we'll see
what can be done to amuse you during the holidays."
Florence agreed to this and the two little girls proceeded with their
work while they tried to think very hard, looking very sober as they
stitched away. They were interrupted by the entrance of Florence's
little sister Gertrude, who had been down town with her mother and who
came in full of importance at having had presents provided for her to
bestow at Christmas. "I've got sumpsin for ev'ybody," she said, "but
I'm not going to tell."
Florence hugged her up close to her. "Won't you tell me?" she asked
coaxingly.
"No," Gertrude shook her head, "I tan't tell."
"What color is the one you have for me?" Florence asked.
"It's white, an' it sumpsin to wipe your nose on. Now, I won't tell you
one sing more," and she pursed up her lips tight, looking very wise
while the others laughed heartily but pretended to be much mystified.
These were very mysterious times, anyhow. Some one was always skurrying
something under a chair or poking something into a closet whenever
certain persons entered the room, and there were unfamiliar snippings
of lace and silk and cambric to be seen on the floor in the nursery, so
that Florence was wrought up to a pitch of curiosity rather unusual for
her.
"You are to come over here right after breakfast, Christmas morning,"
she told Eleanor; "you and Rock. I wish you could stay here all night
so that we could hang up our stockings together. I do so wish you
could."
Eleanor looked a little doubtful; she did not want to neglect her Aunt
Dora and her Uncle Heath, not to mention Rock. "I am afraid I couldn't
do that," she said. "You know Rock will be at home and it would seem
mean to leave them all on Christmas morning."
"Rock could come too; it would be such fun to have you," continued
Florence, all hospitality, but Eleanor declared that would never do,
and so they had to give up the plan. But, after all, it did turn out
that Eleanor spent Christmas eve with her cousins, for Florence's
mother decided that the children should have their Christmas tree at
that time, that they might all go to Mrs. Heath Dallas' on Christmas
night and see the tree that was to be prepared for Rock and Eleanor.
"Aunt Dora won't tell me anything about the tree," Eleanor told
Florence, "so there's some sort of surprise, I know. Isn't it just fine
that we can all be here together? I should have been so miserable at
home."
"I don't see how you could have stood Cousin Ellen and have been nice
to her," said Florence.
Eleanor was silent for a moment and took several stitches in the doily
she was embroidering in outline stitch for her Aunt Nellie. "Well, I
wasn't very nice to her," she admitted after a time. "I meant to be in
the beginning, but when Don was so hateful and they treated Bubbles so
mean, I just didn't care and I said anything that came into my head.
Sometimes, when I got real mad, I was the sauciest girl you ever heard."
"Are you going to tell your mother?" Florence asked solemnly.
"I--I don't know. Maybe. Yes, I always tell mamma everything; somehow,
it comes out whether I want it to or not. Yes, I'll tell her, but I
couldn't be meek and lowly; I just couldn't. I never knew I could feel
so very, very mad at any one before, but, you see, now that I am not
there, I don't feel so mad, and I'm going to send the Christmas gifts,
you know. I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll write to Cousin Ellen, and
tell her I am sorry I was saucy, but I'll not say I am sorry about
Donald, for I'm not." And Florence agreed that she could hardly be
expected to.
The letter was written that very day and was tucked in the box with the
Christmas gifts. It ran:
"DEAR COUSIN ELLEN:
"I hope you will have a happy Christmas. I am having a lovely time,
and Bubbles is getting along finely. Every one at the hospital
likes her and she is just as nice as she was when mamma was at
home. I thought you would be glad to know that she is not so much
hurt as we were afraid of because you sent her away and you would
feel very bad if you thought you had made her get hurt very bad.
I send you all a little Christmas gift. I hope you will like what
I send. Were you ever impudent when you were a little girl? I am
sorry I was.
"Yours
"ELEANOR DALLAS."
Eleanor submitted the letter to her Aunt Nellie who read it and
laughing, said: "You have said just the right thing, Dimple, and if
Cousin Ellen can remember as far back as a certain occasion when
she was a little girl I think she could answer, 'yes,' to your last
question."
"Was she a nice little girl? Did you know her then, Aunt Nellie?"
"Yes, I knew her very well. She was my cousin, you know, but I don't
believe your mother and I were as fond of her as you are of Florence.
She hasn't changed so very much, I fancy."
"Then she couldn't have been so very nice," Eleanor concluded.
It was the day upon which they expected Rock to return home, and
Eleanor was in a high state of excitement. There must be other arrivals
to be looked for, too, for Aunt Dora was having the largest guest room
made ready and one or two telegrams had arrived. "Are you expecting
somebody else?" she ventured to ask.
"Yes," Aunt Dora answered smiling.