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DOROTHY'S
TOUR
BY
EVELYN RAYMOND
NEW YORK
HURST & CO., INC.
PUBLISHERS
THE
DOROTHY BOOKS
By EVELYN RAYMOND
These stories of an American girl by an American author have made
"Dorothy" a household synonym for all that is fascinating. Truth and
realism are stamped on every page. The interest never flags, and is
ofttimes intense. No more happy choice can be made for gift books, so
sure are they to win approval and please not only the young in years,
but also "grown-ups" who are young in heart and spirit.
Dorothy
Dorothy at Skyrie
Dorothy's Schooling
Dorothy's Travels
Dorothy's House Party
Dorothy in California
Dorothy on a Ranch
Dorothy's House Boat
Dorothy at Oak Knowe
Dorothy's Triumph
Dorothy's Tour
_Illustrated, 12mo, Cloth Price per Volume, 50 Cents_
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY THE PLATT & PECK CO.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. AT BELLEVIEU 9
II. ALFARETTA'S LETTER 18
III. THE PREPARATIONS 28
IV. IN NEW YORK 40
V. THE CARNEGIE CONCERT 52
VI. THE OPERA 65
VII. AN EPISODE 82
VIII. "AMERICA" 95
IX. A DREAD CALL IN THE NIGHT 106
X. THE LOCKET 118
XI. THE TOUR BEGINS 129
XII. IN WASHINGTON 150
XIII. SIGHT-SEEING 166
XIV. HIGH HONOR 187
XV. MT. VERNON 203
XVI. THE LAKE CITY 214
XVII. THE ACCIDENT 230
XVIII. CONCLUSION 245
DOROTHY'S TOUR
CHAPTER I.
AT BELLEVIEU.
"Dorothy!" called Jim as he quickly searched the garden at Bellevieu
for her.
"Yes," answered Dorothy, "I am here sitting under the big oak tree."
"I have something for you," cried Jim. "Guess what?"
"Guess what?" echoed Dorothy. "Well it might be--Oh! there are so
many, many things it could be."
"Here, take it. Its only a letter from New York, and never mind what
might be in it, read it--" said Jim, who was altogether too practical
and never cared to imagine or suppose anything. All he wanted was real
facts and true and useful facts at that, which is not a bad trait in a
youth's character.
Dorothy broke the seal carefully and read the letter through once and
then started to read it all over again, exclaiming every once in a
while to herself, "Oh, oh, dear. I am so glad!" and finally, "I must
tell Aunt Betty at once."
Jim, who had been standing there forgotten all this time, broke in:
"Oh, I say, Dolly Doodles, can you tell me what this message is that
so excites you that you have clear forgotten me?"
"Oh, Jim dear," said Dorothy, "it's too wonderful. Just think, I am to
start in two weeks for New York, where Mr. Ludlow will meet Aunt Betty
and I."
By this time Jim and Dorothy were walking rapidly toward the house,
where at once they sought Aunt Betty to tell her the news, only to
find that Mrs. Calvert had gone visiting.
Seeing Old Ephraim in the hall, Dorothy ran up to him and said:
"Ephraim, do tell us where Aunt Betty has gone."
"Ah certainly does know, Misses," answered old Ephraim. "She o'de'd
Metty" (whom we remember as Methuselah Bonapart Washington from the
previous books, Dorothy's Triumph, House Boat and Oak Knowe, and other
volumes wherein our little heroine's story is told). "Metty, he 'lowed
he take her see dat lil lady. De man what gibs de music lessons'
wife."
"Oh, I know now, Ephy," said Dorothy, "Aunty went to see Frau
Deichenberg. Well, Jim, we shall have to wait till Aunt Betty comes
back to tell her our wonderful news. But dear me, what a forgetful
girl I am. I haven't told you all yet. Well, Jim, it's a long story,
so let's go back to the garden and I will tell you all there."
So back to the old oak tree with the rustic seat beneath it they
went. The garden in Bellevieu looked its loveliest. It was early in
September and all the fall flowers with their wondrous hues made the
garden a regular fairy land. And Lem, the little boy the campers had
found on a memorable night, had been true to his word and had tended
the garden faithfully.
You will remember how Lem Haley had cried out at night and when found
and protected by the little camping party had ridden back to Bellevieu
in the huge automobile. He, like all who knew Aunt Betty, Mrs. Cecil
Somerset Calvert, had grown to love her and now tried hard to please
her by keeping the garden at old Bellevieu a feast for the eyes and a
delight to all who came there.
Dorothy and Jim seated themselves beneath the tree and Dorothy started
out by saying: "Oh, Jim, dear, I really am dreadfully nervous every
time I think of starting out on that long trip through the United
States and Canada, as Mr. Ludlow says I must. You see this letter says
that Mr. Ludlow will expect Aunt Betty and I to be at the Pennsylvania
station on September 27. That's, let's see----. Oh, Jim, what day does
the 27th of September fall on?"
Dorothy at this period was a winsome girl indeed. She had good
looks, which is always a worthy asset, then her artistic temperament
and perhaps her musical training had combined with other natural
attributes in the building of a character charmingly responsive. She
had been frequently complimented for her musical talent, but bore her
honor simply and unaffectedly.
As a protege of Mrs. Calvert, Jim had grown to be a fellow of manly
aspect, and while in no way related to her, filled in some degree the
place of a son in her heart and was a brother to every one else in the
household.
Jim, who had been calculating the same while Dorothy was talking,
quickly responded, "Tuesday."
"Oh, dear, I might have known that myself if I had only read on a ways
instead of stopping just in the wrong place. Mr. Ludlow said that he
would like me to play at a concert or two in New York before I start
traveling for good. Oh, I must play at a concert on Thursday, the
29th. That is why he wants me to be in New York on Tuesday so I can
have one day to rest in. Dear, thoughtful man to think of giving me a
rest after my trip. Oh, Jim, if you could only come to New York with
us!"
"I can," said Jim. "In fact I was going to keep that as a surprise,
but I have saved enough money this summer to go to New York and be
near you and with Aunt Betty when you play for the first time under
this new contract."
"Jim," Dorothy said, "you are just as thoughtful and kind as you can
be and it will be so nice to have you with Aunt Betty, and I shall
play all the better for knowing that out in the big, big audience
there are you two whom I really care to please more than anyone else
in the wide, wide world. Jim, every one is so good to me and so kind
in all things. Oh, dear, oh, dear; do you really suppose that I will
be a very great violinist?"
"Why Dorothy Calvert!" Jim reproached. "You funny girl. You are a
great violinist already, and in time you will be a very, very great
violinist perhaps--who knows but what you might be the most famous
violinist in the world? Why, Herr Deichenberg thinks you are doing
very wonderfully now, and you will practice just the same even if you
are going on a concert tour. In fact you will have to practice
harder----"
"Oh, Jim, I must do my very best all the time and you can trust me to
do that. But, come, let's go inside now. It's getting dark and Aunt
Betty will soon be back."
But the boy did not move, and finally said: "You stay here and finish
telling me your plans and then we will go in."
So Dorothy reseated herself and told Jim how Mr. Ludlow would tell her
when she got to New York her future plans and that now all that he had
written was for her to get ready for her trip, and on Tuesday, the
27th of September, for her and her Aunt Betty to be in New York.
"To think, Jim," said Dorothy, "that my one ambition in life has
commenced to be realized. I have always longed for this day to come
when I could really play to people, and now to be in a company with
so many other artists and to tour all over. There are so many, many
people who can play the violin better than I can, and for me to be
chosen!"
"Dorothy, girl, it was because you worked so very, very hard, and as
Herr Deichenberg, you know says, 'You have, mine girl, accomplished
the impossible,' and now we are all so proud of you," Jim gladly
responded.
"I tried so hard and all for dear, darling Aunt Betty, and she has
been so good to me and to you and to everybody, no wonder everyone
loves her," added Dorothy.
"Jim, I am worried about Aunt Betty. You know how she lost so much
money last year in those old investments that foolish lawyer made for
her. Well, she has always done so much for me that I am going to show
her that I can take care of myself, and her too. Just think, $200 a
week and all my expenses paid. And a private car for the party, Aunt
Betty, and an attendant. I just couldn't go and leave aunty, so they
managed to let me take her with me. Do you think, Jim, that traveling
will hurt Aunt Betty?"
"Hurt her? Indeed I do not," the boy said gravely, for he was thinking
that Aunt Betty was no longer young and that she had been worried and
tired most all summer, for she had insisted on staying near Dorothy
who couldn't leave Baltimore because of her lessons and preparations
for the fall, as Herr Deichenberg was working hard over his little
protege so as to have a great success come of the tour.
"You know, Dorothy, the change will be good for her," Jim volunteered.
"And Aunt Betty enjoys nothing more than travel. She will enjoy the
music, too, and most of all the very one thing that will give her most
pleasure is the fact that she will be with you and near you to keep
you from all kinds of harm and such things as are apt to go with such
a trip. But, Dorothy, dear girlie, don't think I mean that anything
is going to hurt you or harm you in any way, but you see I mean Aunt
Betty will be with you and it's not many a girl who has an Aunt Betty
like yours."
"Jim, what a long, long speech for you. Let's go inside," said
Dorothy.
The two slowly walked around the garden, exclaiming at its beauty,
till they reached the house. Dorothy led Jim into the music room,
pushed him playfully into a chair, and taking her violin in her hand,
said, "Listen."
Jim sat there listening to what he thought was the most wonderful
music in all the world. Piece after piece the girl played, bringing
out with clear, vibrating tones, the tunes she loved best, her body
swaying to the music's rhythm.
"Surely," thought Jim, "if the audiences do not care for Dorothy's
playing, and how they can help that I cannot see, they will
immediately fall and worship at her personal charm and beauty," of
which, thanks to Aunt Betty and the good Mother Martha's training,
Dorothy was wholly unconscious.
How long they stayed there, neither of them could have told. And Aunt
Betty, who had entered quite unseen, remained till old Ephraim said
from the doorway, "Ah most surely wanted to excuse myself, but ah has
been dere standing for most a hour and more than likely the dinner is
spoilt, cause ah simply couldn't interrup' dat beautiful music."
Dorothy carefully put away her violin and ran to Aunt Betty telling
her she had some brand new news.
"Let it wait, Dorothy," said Aunt Betty, "till we are all at the
dinner table. Come, Jim," and then they all went to the table, Jim
saying as he did that music sure did give him an appetite, and that
that must be the reason they had music at so many of the New York
hotels at meal time, or, as Dorothy corrected him, at dinner.