NAN'S NEW FRIEND
The telephone bell rang just after breakfast on the morning following
the departure of Mary Lee and Jack for the Sanders ranch. Nan answered
it. "Who is it?" she asked. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Roberts. It's Nan. You want
to speak to me? Well, here I am. Lovely. I'm so glad. How old is she?
That's nice. How long is she going to stay? Why, yes. I'll ask mother.
Just hold the line, please." She rushed off to Mrs. Corner. "Mother,
mother," she cried, "Mrs. Roberts wants me to come over there to spend
the day. Mr. Roberts' niece from Boston is there. She came last night
to stay a week while her mother and father go somewhere else. She's
just my age, Mrs. Roberts says. May I go?"
"What about your practicing and your lessons?"
"I'll practice this evening, and I'll do double lessons to-morrow, if
you say so. Mary Lee and Jack aren't having lessons this week and I
don't see why I should."
"Very well, then you may be excused for to-day from lessons, but you
must make up your practicing."
"All right," and Nan danced off to tell the señorita that there was to
be a holiday. "I don't suppose you mind in the least," she said. "I
should think you would hate to teach stupid me."
"I do not hate, no, but I shall then be able to make a visit to an old
friend of my aunt's."
"Then that just suits all around," and she whirled out. "What shall I
wear, mother?" she asked, putting her head in at the living-room.
"Shall you always be a baby, Nan?" said her mother, with a smile. "Wear
that little blue and white check frock. Is Jean going?"
"Mrs. Roberts didn't say so, and you know Jean can't walk; she can only
hobble."
"Then we shall have to try to do something to entertain her. We can
take her to drive and get her some postal cards to send to Jack and
Mary Lee."
Having donned her blue and white check, Nan set forth, pleased at the
prospect of a new acquaintance. At the door of Mrs. Roberts's morning
room she met a slim, angular girl, with very blue eyes, rather a long
nose and neutral brown hair, of the tint described as mouse color.
"Ah, here you are, Nan," said Mrs. Roberts kissing her. "This is our
niece Charlotte Loring. I hope you will be friends."
Nan shook hands warmly. "I'm awfully glad you've come," she said
cordially. "My sister, Mary Lee, is away for a week, and I don't know
any girls of my age here. Don't you think California is great?"
"It seems rather interesting," returned Charlotte, "though I haven't
been here long enough to judge."
Nan turned to Mrs. Roberts. "What shall I show her? Has she seen
everything?"
"I believe Mr. Roberts made the rounds with Charlotte this morning,"
replied Mrs. Roberts. "Suppose you just go down on the veranda and
talk till after I have looked after my housekeeping. This afternoon I
thought we would have a drive and show Charlotte some of the beauties
of Los Angeles, our City of the Angels. Its real name, you know,
Charlotte, is Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Angeles, Our Lady, the
Queen of the Angels. You wouldn't believe what a little place it was
thirty years ago."
"I like the Spanish names they give to the California places; it makes
it seem much more foreign," said Nan. "I brought my work, Mrs. Bobs,"
she swung the little bag on her arm. "I'm trying to do _callado_, but I
make a poor fist of it beside Mary Lee."
"May I ask what is _callado_?" said Charlotte.
"It is the name our governess gives to drawn work. She does the most
intricate things; they are perfectly lovely, but I can't begin to do
as well as my sister. Mine isn't worth looking at. Fancy work isn't my
forte. What's yours?"
"Oh, really, I don't know," returned Charlotte. "I prefer music to any
other accomplishment."
"Oh, do you? Good! That's my best love, too. I am trying to play duets
with the señorita and it is such fun, though I am not an advanced
student. I've not been taking lessons very long. We are doing some
fascinating Spanish dances now, and it is such good practice, for you
have to skurry around to keep the right tempo. Do you think you have a
voice? I am wild to sing as well as to play, but I don't know what sort
of pipe I shall develop. The señorita says if I sing anything it will
be contralto, but I have my doubts of having any voice at all. Come on
down. If you love music we'll be friends at once."
This common bond did unloosen their tongues and did away with
Charlotte's apparent reserve, therefore in a few minutes they were
chatting pleasantly on the veranda. Nan was a good talker and Charlotte
a good listener. The contrast between Nan's drawl and Charlotte's
quick crisp Northern mode of speech amused Mrs. Roberts as she heard
their chatter.
"I am studying at the Boston Conservatory," Charlotte told Nan.
"That is where my Aunt Helen wants me to go, and perhaps I shall.
Mother is a little doubtful, but Aunt Helen believes in a very broad
education and thinks it will do us good to go up north for a year. I
believe I'd rather stay out here, though."
"Oh, but surely you would prefer Boston," said Charlotte.
"But why? Of course you like it because it is your home, but I don't
believe I should care to go there so very much."
Charlotte looked as if she had uttered a heresy. "I presume you have
never been there," she replied as if that were sufficient reason for
such an extraordinary statement.
"No, I have not, and perhaps you haven't been to Virginia and wonder
why I prefer that to any place on earth," said Nan laughing and then
she returned to music as a safer subject than local preferences. "Do
you like the Spanish music?" she asked. "Just now I am wild about it."
"I prefer the German," Charlotte made answer.
"I like the German, too. Aunt Helen says that after a while I shall
like it the best of all. She says when we get through school she wants
us to go abroad and that then I shall just get soaked in music."
"Perhaps you will study in Berlin."
"Maybe. I don't know yet. I haven't got so far ahead as that."
"Of course you have heard opera. Which one do you like best?"
"Never have heard one. I am wild to."
"Oh, then you have a great deal ahead of you."
"Have you heard many?" asked Nan, quite envious.
"Oh, dear, yes. I go several times a season, and always to the Boston
Symphony. I have not heard all the Wagner operas, but I shall."
At once Charlotte appeared much more grown up than Nan's self. It was
very young ladyish to go to operas and to Symphony concerts. "Tell me
all about where you live," Nan went on. "I like to know about people's
homes; I can get them into my mind better when I know."
"We live just out of Boston, at Brookline; it is a lovely place with
many handsome residences. We have quite a lot of ground and a pretty
garden. You know the suburbs of Boston are very beautiful."
"So I have heard," said Nan applying herself to her work.
"Father wanted we should go into Boston about two years ago but mother
wouldn't hear of leaving Brookline."
"I shouldn't think she would. I can't see how any one could like rows
of houses with tiny yards and no gardens. We don't live near any large
city; ours is just a college town. Our house is old and we have a lot
of ground, too, and a garden. Dear me, to think of the muddy roads and
the cold and all that while here we are sitting out of doors under
vines in full bloom. Aren't the flowers in this part of the country
wonderful?"
"Very. Where do you go to school, Nan? Is your name Anna, by the way?"
"No, it's Nancy, just Nancy, with Nan for short. I used to like
Nannette till Aunt Helen told me about a maid she had in Paris who was
very dishonest; her name was Nannette, so now I'm plain Nancy, very
plain," she added laughing.
"Oh!" Charlotte looked at her, surprised that she should allude to her
appearance in such a light manner. She didn't think Nan at all plain
with her starlike eyes and glowing color, but if Nan herself thought
so, it was a very outspoken thing for her to mention it. Charlotte was
used to taking such things more seriously. Yet under Nan's graciousness
and readiness to make friends Charlotte quite thawed out, and before
the day was over was laughing and talking as naturally as in her own
home while Mr. Roberts nodded to his wife approvingly.
"I knew Nan would be the very one to bring Charlotte out," he said.
"Once you get underneath that rigid exterior there's a good sweet
kernel to find. I hope they'll see a lot of each other."
This Mrs. Roberts determined they should do, and not a day passed but
the two girls were together during some part of it. In the morning they
played duets, in the afternoon they read or walked or drove, and more
than one night Nan stayed with Charlotte. One afternoon Nan proposed
that they should take their books and go to a spot she called the Fairy
Dell. "You don't know how lovely it is there," she said. "It's not far,
and there are all sorts of things growing; mosses for fairy couches and
tiny rose-colored toad-stools for seats, then there are lots of fairy
flowers and little gnome-like corners."
Charlotte laughed. "You are so imaginative," she said.
"I get ever so much fun out of it," returned Nan. "I'm glad I am not
matter-of-fact. What books shall we take? I have a lovely illustrated
edition of 'An Old-fashioned Girl,' that was given me at Christmas;
we might take that. Do you like the Jungle books and the 'Just So
Stories'? Jean and Jack have those."
Charlotte decided on the "Just So Stories" which she had not read and
Nan went to get the book from Jean who was very ready to lend it.
"Where are you going, Nan?" she asked.
"To the Fairy Dell with Charlotte," responded Nan.
"Oh, mayn't I go?" begged Jean.
"With that weak little ankle? Better not. You might fall over some of
the fairy snares or into the holes of the gnomes," said Nan as she ran
out with the book.
Jean looked after her wistfully. This was not the first time Nan had
mentioned the Fairy Dell and Jean had long been consumed with a desire
to see it. Nan was always so mysterious about it and always made some
excuse not to take her little sister with her when she went there.
It must be a wonderful place, Jean thought, and even if one did not
see fairies it would be something to see where fairies lived. So
regardless of her lame ankle, Jean resolved to follow, and when Nan
started forth with Charlotte she limped at a safe distance behind.
But before the little ravine was reached one came to a house set by
itself with a large garden around it. By the time the two older girls
reached it Jean was far behind and her lame ankle began to pain her.
Yet she kept on as she saw the others descend the hill at the side of
the house and gathered up new strength to press on. It would never do
to give up now when she had come this far. But just as she reached the
gateway of the big house a large dog stalked out and stood barring the
way. If there was one thing above another that Jean was afraid of it
was a strange dog, and she stood stock still gazing fearfully at this
guardian of the mysterious dell.
At last, plucking up her courage, she dashed past him and at once he
followed barking loudly. Jean turned her head to see him loping after
her and her terror increased. Stumbling, hobbling, crying, she rushed
on, the dog barking and gaining upon her. It was horrible, she thought.
Would she never reach the spot where Nan was? "Nan! Nan!" she cried
wildly. "Oh, Nan, come help me. Drive him away! Drive him away!"
At last Nan heard. She was just looking around for a comfortable spot
in which to settle down, that she and Charlotte might read undisturbed,
when Jean's cries reached her. "I believe that's some one calling me,"
she exclaimed running back to the point at which they had entered the
dell. Then she saw Jean crying with fear and almost falling as she ran,
the big dog close upon her heels. "Why, Jean, Jean," called Nan, "what
is the matter?"
"The dog! the dog!" gasped Jean. "Oh, drive him away!"
"Why, he won't hurt you," said Nan. "Nice doggie, come here."
Jean shrieked with terror. "Send him away! Send him away!" she cried.
"Go home, Don," ordered Nan, pretending to pick up a stone to fling
at him, and the dog turned tail and started off. Once he stopped and
looked back as if wondering why this acquaintance, who had always been
friendly, should suddenly turn against him and show a distaste for
his company. Nan gathered up Jean in her arms. "Why, you poor little
hop-pity-go-kick, what did you come all this way for? Is anything wrong
at home? Did mother send you?"
"No," sobbed Jean. "I wanted so much to see the Fairy Dell. I never did
see it, you know, and I was there at home all by myself, with nobody
to play with, and I just thought I would come."
"You ought to have told me you were coming," said Nan, "and I could
have advised you how to pass the Guardian Dog. I could have told you
the charm. You saw how quickly he went when I told him; that was
because he knew I'd tell the fairies if he didn't."
"Oh, Nan," said Charlotte, "how can you?"
"How can I what? Charlotte doesn't know about the fairies as we do,"
she whispered to Jean, "and she doesn't believe in the Guardian Dog.
Don't you know all fairy dells have some sort of guardian? Sometimes
it's an owl; sometimes another kind of bird or beast. This one has
a dog, but he wouldn't hurt you unless you came to steal the fairy
treasures. He had to find out why you were coming to his fairies' dell
without being invited."
Jean looked so troubled that Charlotte said, "What nonsense, Nan. How
can you make her believe such stuff?"
"We like to believe it," said Nan, comfortably. "Now let me set you
down here, Jean," she said, as she picked up her little sister in her
arms. "I am afraid you're giving your lame ankle a set-back. Rest it on
that mossy cushion and we'll read to you about 'The Cat that walks by
herself.' I'll go over to that tree and whisper a charm first, so the
fairies won't be offended at your coming." She gravely took her way to
the tree and whispered loud enough for Jean to hear:
"Fairies bright, fairies light,
Hiding from us out of sight,
She who seeks your fairy dell
Is a friend who loves you well."
"There," she said, "that is all right. Now let us read."
Charlotte looked at her with a tolerant smile. "How babyish," she said.
"I really think you half believe it all yourself."
"Of course I do," said Nan, coolly, as she opened the book before her
and began to read.
"I want to see the fairy beds and cushions and things," whispered Jean.
"Hush-sh," returned Nan. "You must be quiet so they'll get used to your
being here. After a while I will show you."
She was as good as her word and when the story was finished she took
Jean mysteriously to little holes in the ground, to crevices in the
rocks, to overshadowed corners, till the child's fancy was filled with
imaginary beings who peopled the fairy dell.
But when they started home the little girl lagged painfully. "This will
never do," said Nan. "You've overtaxed your ankle, Jean, and you'll
have to get home some other way than by walking all the distance. She's
too heavy for us to carry, don't you think, Charlotte? I'm afraid our
wrists would give out if we tried to take her lady-to-London. I'll
tell you what; Suppose you go on ahead and ask Carter Barnwell to come
around with his automobile for us, and I will stay with Jean. You can
come back with him to show him where to find us."
"Oh, but I don't know him," said Charlotte, shrinking back. "I have met
him only once."
"Never mind that," said Nan. "He knows all about you and he will be
right ready to come."
But Charlotte would not be persuaded. It was more than she could stand
to be required to ask a favor of a strange young man.
"Then," said Nan, "if you don't mind staying with Jean I'll go for
Cart. He's pretty sure to be at the house at this time of day."
Charlotte much preferred this arrangement and Nan set off for Jean's
relief.
But for once Carter was not on hand and Nan was perplexed. She did not
want to tell her mother lest the blame be laid on Jean for following
her and upon Nan herself for leaving her little sister out of her
afternoon's plans. "She'll say I ought to have stayed at home and
entertained her," she told herself, "but I forgot she would be all
alone. I thought maybe Clarence would come over, but now Jack isn't
here he doesn't seem to care to." She stood in the garden trying to
decide what to do when she espied Li Hung hanging out his dish towels.
She would confide in him. "Jean's down in the woods and can't get
home," she said. "She's walked so far that her ankle won't stand any
more."
Li Hung didn't understand sufficiently well and Nan began again.
"Little galee, Jean. Ankle hurt in woods. Can't get home. How carry
her, Li Hung?"
He nodded. "Me callee lil galee," he said, nodding. "Allee lite. Come
'long."
He went into the house and brought out a strong bamboo basket
which could be carried hamper-wise upon his back. He displayed it
triumphantly. "Babee," he said, grinning. "Lil galee babee."
Nan laughed. It pleased her mightily to use this odd method of carrying
Jean home and she sallied forth with Li Hung to the spot where Jean and
Charlotte waited. Here she explained the plan.
"You'll not allow her to be carried through the streets that way?" said
Charlotte quite shocked. "She is not a baby."
"She is our baby," returned Nan, "and I think it is a fine way."
"But I shouldn't like any one to see us going through the street. Such
a queer procession."
"You don't have to," said Nan tossing up her chin. "You can go by
yourself. I'm not ashamed to be seen with my sister when she is not
able to walk."
"Oh, but can't you go with me some other way home, and let the Chinaman
carry Jean?"
"No, I can't," returned Nan shortly.
"But I don't know the way."
"It's quite direct, but, if you like, you can follow on half a square
behind us and nobody will suspect that you belong to our disreputable
company," returned Nan, and she marched ahead without another word,
keeping close by Jean while Charlotte followed at a respectable
distance. Nan never once turned her head and having reached her own
gate did not stop to say good-bye.
"That was fine, good, very good, Li Hung," she told the Chinaman,
"Little galee get home allee lite. Li Hung good boy." And Li Hung
beamed.
Jean was swung lightly down from her queer carriage, and was ready with
her thanks to her carrier.
"It was just like being in China," said Nan to her, "wasn't it? I wish
we had a jinrikisha, though this is next best. I should never have
thought of it and I think Li Hung was very clever. It was a real coolie
way of doing, but I had to laugh to see how people stared."
If Jean had any feeling of embarrassment Nan's approval of the matter
did away with it, and the child declared it was fun. "I liked being
carried along on Li Hung's back that way," she said. "I wouldn't mind
doing it again. Where's Charlotte, Nan?"
"I don't know nor care," was Nan's curt rejoinder.