"WHO ARE WE?"
MRS. SMITH and Dorothy stayed to dinner with the Mortons and after
dinner the younger members of the family party went to the beach in
front of the cottage while the elders were talking in the house. Roger
rolled up to the group cartwheel fashion as they gathered about the
stone on which their new cousin was sitting.
"It's the most wonderful event that ever happened to the Mortons," he
ejaculated breathlessly. "I suppose Aunt Louise is telling them in the
house everything that has happened to her since before all of us were
born, so perhaps you'll tell us all the happy happenings that have
happened to you."
Dorothy flushed and Helen, who guessed that the happenings of her aunt's
and cousin's lives had not been very happy, hastened to interpose.
"What we want to know even more," she said tactfully, "is what Aunt
Louise and you are going to do now. Wouldn't it be just _grand_ if you
could live in Rosemont!"
Dorothy's face kindled.
"It would be for me," she agreed. "I've never been where there was any
one belonging to me, and--well, that would be a 'happy ending'!"
"Where was Aunt Louise planning to go for the winter?"
"I don't know that she had any plans. She hadn't the last time we talked
about it, but that was a long time ago--way back at the time of the
fire."
"Why can't you both go home with us? We're going in a day or two, you
know."
"Mother's engagement at the art store doesn't end until the first of
September. She wouldn't leave them in the lurch."
"No, it wouldn't be right," murmured Helen; "but I want her to rest just
as soon as she can."
"She is tired," assented Dorothy, thinking as she answered how much more
tired her mother was than any of the Morton cousins could understand.
The wear of constant anxiety about bread and butter and shelter is
something beyond the understanding of those who have not experienced it.
It had made Dorothy older than her years and had turned her mother's
hair snow-white at forty-two.
"If only you live in Rosemont," said Ethel Brown, "we can go to school
together. Ethel Blue and I have been almost like twins. If you are with
us all the time we'll be triplets."
"Oh!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands.
"Do you suppose they'll tell us what they've decided?" asked Ethel Blue
anxiously. "Father will suggest something perfectly fine--he always
does--and it will be like the end of a fairy story. You're sure you'd
like to live with us?" she questioned anxiously.
Helen gave Ethel Blue a touch to attract her attention, for Dorothy was
almost crying. Ethel Blue threw her arm around her and gave her a hug.
At that minute Captain Morton's voice was heard calling Dorothy from
the house. She jumped up and ran in. When she came back a few minutes
later she was radiant.
"It's all arranged," she cried excitedly. "Some money has turned up from
somewhere--a lot of it--that belongs to Mother, so we can live wherever
we want to, and of course we'd rather live near you people than anywhere
else in the world."
"All I've got to say," said Ethel Brown, "is that this is the finest
sort of ending to the finest sort of summer. Just think of all the new
things we've seen and done since we came up here, but I think the best
of all has been starting the Club, because that's going to last."
"I believe we're going to have more fun out of that than out of anything
we ever tried," said Helen.
"I know it; I feel it in my bones," cried Ethel Blue, "and now that
Dorothy is going to help us with it all winter we'll just make things
hum in Rosemont."
Throwing their arms across each other's shoulders, the whole group of
them marched along the beach--one, two, three, back; one, two, three,
back--chanting in unison
"Who are we?
Who are we?
We are members of the U. S. C."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Sometimes C.S.L.C. was printed with
spaces between the letters and sometimes not. This was retained.
Page 50, "loked" changed to "looked" (Helen looked at her with)
Page 110, "sichlike" changed to "suchlike" (and suchlike foreign)
Page 196, "yong" changed to "young" (young man's calm air)
End of Project Gutenberg's Ethel Morton at Chautauqua, by Mabell S. C. Smith