THE TOUR BEGINS.
On his way downtown, Jim paused in front of Lebolt's on Fifth avenue,
one of New York's biggest jewelry houses. The windows were full of
attractive pieces of jewelry. One thing in particular caught his eye,
a little pendant of gold and pearls. He thought at once of Dorothy and
wanted very much to give her something--something nice because of the
previous day's happenings--something that would help her to remember
him very often--a little token of his regard.
He went inside and inquired of a clerk where he could see pendants,
and was directed to a near counter. He was shown many, and after
having quite a hard time choosing which he liked best at a price he
could afford to pay he finally decided on a little bunch of grapes
formed of a cluster of pearls, with the leaves and vine of gold hung
on a slender chain--altogether a very dainty and appropriate gift. And
he left the store thinking of how he would present this to Dorothy,
for he wanted no one to know of his reasons for giving it to her but
himself--and she.
Taking a car he soon came to the vicinity of the lawyer's office and
looking over the bulletin at the entrance he located a sign with his
name upon it. On reaching a small outer office he asked of a pleasant
faced girl sitting there, "Can I see Mr. Van Zandt? I have a package
and letter to deliver to him personally."
"Mr. Van Zandt," answered the girl, "is just now very busy. He is
conferring with another lawyer, and I cannot disturb him, as he left
word that on no account and for no one should I bother him. He will
not be much longer, and if you would care to wait for a half hour, I
am sure that you could see him then."
"I will wait," said Jim in reply. The girl then showed him into a
little library off to one side of the office where there were some
easy chairs. Picking out one that looked particularly comfortable to
him he took up a magazine from the well laden table, and seating
himself started to read.
After waiting half an hour or more, he was finally admitted into a
room wherein sat Mr. Van Zandt, at a desk strewn entirely with legal
papers.
"Mr. Van Zandt, I am from Mrs. Calvert. She sent me here with a letter
and package for you," said Jim.
"Most opportune, most opportune," answered Mr. Van Zandt, gravely,
taking the letter and package from Jim.
"Excuse me, young man, excuse me, while I see what Mrs. Calvert has to
say," he added, breaking the seal of Aunt Betty's letter and slowly
reading its contents. "Ah! So you are the Jim she speaks of in the
letter, and says I may question concerning these matters?"
"Yes, indeed," responded Jim. "Is there anything you would like to ask
me?"
"No. Not that I just think of now. But I have a little story to tell
you. Listen carefully and see if you can repeat the same to Mrs.
Calvert, when you see her later this afternoon," replied Mr. Van
Zandt. "This was told me by a fellow colleague, the man you no doubt
saw leave this office as you entered it. Strange how things come
about. Long years ago there was an English family named Winchester, a
father and mother and six children, four of them girls and two boys.
The parents were very strict with their children, and one boy, the
oldest, ran away from home, and was never heard of by the old people
again. The youngest girl had a very pretty love affair, but because
her parents disapproved, and I believe they would have disapproved of
a saint from heaven if he wished to marry their child Marrie, she took
the vows and became a sister. Two died very young, and the other two
daughters lived to be old maids, and in time all died.
"The runaway son married, so much we have learned, and had one very
beautiful daughter, who after, mother fashion, also ran away and
married. The daughter's name was Dorothy Winchester. The man she
married was a Calvert. These two died early deaths, leaving behind, so
'tis said, a little daughter named after the mother, Dorothy
Winchester Calvert."
"Our Dorothy," whispered Jim.
"Now, it seems to me that Mrs. Calvert was sister-in-law to the
Calvert that married the beautiful Dorothy Winchester. And from what I
know, Dorothy Calvert, Mrs. Calvert's ward, is the child of the former
two. But as a large estate, consisting of much property in England and
a great deal of money, is left to the heir or heirs of this Dorothy
Winchester, we shall have to have legal proof that this girl is the
right child. And when the right proof is found, my colleague will turn
over to me the various papers and deeds to the estate. And after
proving herself the legal heir of this estate, Miss Calvert may have
to take a trip to England to see the London solicitors and straighten
matters out there. They have been working on this estate for many
years now, and finally, but only recently traced the son to America.
That is how things have come to this point now. Will you tell Mrs.
Calvert and Dorothy that I would like to see them at their earliest
convenience, bringing letters, pictures and any other form of proof
they may have with them?"
"I will tell them that, sir."
"Very well. Good afternoon, young man, good afternoon," and Mr. Van
Zandt closed the interview.
Jim, after leaving Mr. Van Zandt, hurried back to the hotel, all the
time thinking of the wonderful story he had to tell to Dorothy. He
also wondered just how things would stand between them if Dorothy
became a great English heiress. On reaching the hotel he went straight
up to the girl's rooms and there found Dorothy weeping in Aunt Betty's
lap.
"I have such good news, such wonderful news," cried Jim. "I can't wait
to tell you. Why, Dorothy, what has happened? Tell me," he added,
catching sight of Dorothy at her aunt's feet, her face in her lap.
Just then Dorothy smiled up at him and said, "Nothing. I was just a
little foolish. Go on and tell us all your wonderful news. I would
rather hear good news than tell sad, any day."
"I have just come from your lawyer's, Mr. Van Zandt's, where I heard a
most wonderful story. I gave him the letter and package. He read the
former, and said he would give the matter attention. I had to wait for
over a half hour. He was conferring with a colleague," continued Jim.
"Oh, do hurry and get to the real story part," said the ever impatient
Alfaretta.
"Be still, Alfy. How can Jim tell us while you are talking?" commanded
Dorothy.
"To go on where I left off," continued Jim, "Mr. Van Zandt said that
his colleague told him a story which he would tell me and which I was
to repeat to you.
"It seems that many years ago a family named Winchester had a large
estate and plenty of money in England. They had children, and one, the
eldest, ran away, came to America and married. He had a little
daughter who grew up to be very beautiful. Her name was Dorothy
Winchester."
At this point in the story, Aunt Betty heaved a great sigh, and grew
quite pale.
"The beautiful young girl ran off with a handsome young man whose name
was Calvert. And, Mrs. Calvert, the lawyer thought that to be your
brother-in-law. The young couple suffered early deaths, leaving a
child, a girl named after the mother, Dorothy Winchester Calvert.
That, dear, is you," and Jim paused to see the effect of his words.
Dorothy had risen, and coming to him, placed her hands in his and
said, "Is this all true or just a joke?" looking eagerly in his eyes
for the answer.
"Yes," answered Jim, with an attempt at gaiety, "yes, all true."
"Then do I understand that all Dorothy has to do is to prove she is
Dorothy Winchester Calvert and she will come into this inheritance?"
said Aunt Betty.
"Yes. Mr. Van Zandt said for me to tell you that he would like to see
you and Dorothy as early as possible in the morning, and for you to
bring with you any proofs, such as letters, pictures, etc., which you
have handy in your possession," instructed Jim.
The word pictures immediately recalled to Dorothy her late misfortune,
and she turned to Aunt Betty, saying, "Dear Aunt Betty, there is all
my proof gone--the pictures in that locket. They would have been just
what was needed, and now the locket is gone."
"Why has the locket gone?" questioned Jim.
"That is the sad news we had to tell you when you came in with the
good news," said Mrs. Calvert. "Dorothy has either mislaid or someone
has stolen her locket, the one I gave her with the pictures of her
father and mother in it."
"There," interrupted Alfy. "There is someone knocking. Maybe it is the
manager returning with the locket. It's an hour since he said that he
would have it back to Dorothy in that time."
The manager entered and came over to Mrs. Calvert's chair, and
said, "I am very sorry, madam, but I have not been able to recover
mademoiselle's trinket. It is nowhere to be found. I have had three
maids searched, three of them, who readily admitted going into the
suite upstairs. The maids were very angry, and threatened to leave my
employ. Nothing could be found. We have found no trace of it at all.
All we can do, madam, is to hope. I will get a detective and have him
try to locate the thief. Is it of great value?"
"Just now we have had news that makes the locket of precious value. An
estate, a large inheritance, hangs upon its recovery, as therein lies
the only proof we have, or, I should say, did have," answered Mrs.
Calvert.
"We will do all we can," continued the manager, "and make every effort
to restore the locket as quickly as possible." He then departed, and
prepared to have the lost article traced without any delay.
"I have my list of clothes and things that are missing and will have
to be replaced all made out," said Alfy to Mrs. Calvert.
"Very good," answered Aunt Betty. "Come into your room and I will look
over your things and verify the list and see if you need anything else
beside what you have written down." Alfy and Aunt Betty went off to
see about the outlay necessary to replace the loss Alfy sustained from
the fire.
No sooner had they gone than Jim came over to Dorothy, looked into her
eyes and said, "Girl, will this--this estate, make any difference--if
the large fortune comes to you? I was so glad to hear the news, and be
the one to tell you of it while I was there with Mr. Van Zandt, but
somehow on my way back to the hotel I became sorry, sorry because it
will mean that you will be a great English heiress, and I--I--"
"You, Jim? You will always be my great big Jim," said Dorothy, with a
sweet, sincere smile. "But isn't it too bad that the locket just
disappeared when we needed it? And, fortune or no fortune, it's the
only picture I had of my own mother."
"Girl," said Jim, softly, taking the small purple velvet box out of
his vest pocket, "I brought you this. It's only a little remembrance
of what has gone between us. Just a little token of my eternal regard
for you. I wish it could have been more." And he placed the little
jewel box in Dorothy's hands. He watched her carefully, noting the
pleasure in her face when she opened the box and saw the dainty
pendant encased in the white satin. Carefully she drew it out.
"Oh, what a beauty!" exclaimed the girl. "Jim, dear, you are so good
and thoughtful. It's just as good and dainty as it can be, and far too
good for me."
"Let me clasp it around your neck for you," he replied. "I am glad you
like it."
But when he had his arms around the girl's neck, clasping the slender
chain in place, Jim could not resist the temptation of drawing her
close to him. She did not resist, so he held her closer for a moment
in a fond embrace, and then raising her head, their lips met in a
loving kiss.
"My little girl," murmured Jim. "My dear little girl." Then releasing
her he said, "I chose this pendant because I knew you would not accept
a ring." Dorothy shook her head, but made no audible response.
"Not until you have had plenty of time to know your own mind, but that
you should have by the time you have returned from your trip. Then,
Dorothy girl, you will give me my answer?"
"Perhaps, Jim," whispered Dorothy. "Perhaps then I will."
"Can't we keep the reason, the real reason, secret. We can have this
one secret from everyone else, can't we? Tell them all it is a little
parting gift from me. Then when you come back, girl, you can tell
them, if you decide to--if you can love me enough. Until then it's our
secret," said Jim.
"I must go show it to Aunt Betty and Alfy. It's such a beautiful
pendant I want everyone to see it," said Dorothy. "And I must get my
things collected, for you see I have a lot to do. I wonder if I can
prove anything without the locket."
"Maybe they will accept Aunt Betty's word for things. But the hard
part of it all is that you go away to-morrow for such a long trip,"
said Jim. "And, Dorothy, how I shall miss you! I won't know what to do
without you."
"Yes, you will," responded Dorothy. "You will have to work and work
very hard at your new position."
"Yes, indeed I will," laughed Jim, "very hard indeed. If I want to get
married soon, I shall have to economize and save all I can."
"Foolish boy," said Dorothy. "Good-bye; I am going to leave you here
all, all alone," and she ran over to Jim, put her hands in his and
looked up at him, saying, "You are a dear, good boy, and I shall prize
my pendant highly, and wear it always, and when I do think of you."
"That's all I could ask," answered Jim. "And, girl, please do take
care of yourself and be careful all through this trip. I regret so
much that I can't be along with you."
"Dorothy! Dorothy!" called Aunt Betty, from the girl's room.
"Yes, Aunt Betty, I am coming," answered Dorothy. As she left the room
she threw a kiss with her dainty finger tips to Jim.
That afternoon was spent in ordering things they all needed, and as
time saving and convenient much was done by telephone. Then in trying
on various things as they came all wrapped up in attractive bundles
from the stores.
Aunt Betty bought Alfy a complete new outfit, as her things were
entirely ruined, and she was more than delighted with each new
article. There was a plain gray suit, and one just like it for
Dorothy. Alfy insisted that they would be mistaken for twins in them.
And Aunt Betty ordered as a surprise to the girl a plain grey felt
outing hat, which was to come in the morning.
Dorothy had a few new shirt waists and a couple of pairs of slippers;
also two new gowns, one pale yellow chiffon trimmed with a little gold
lace; the other a very pale shell pink crepe de chine and shadow
lace. These were for her to use on the stage, and at any private
affairs that might come up.
Alfy was very much pleased with a pale blue evening dress, as she had
never had one before in all her life. This pretty little party dress
was very simple, being made of pale blue chiffon over a shell pink
satin slip, and the only trimming it had was one large rose of pink
shade, catching the skirt in a dainty fold, and a few dainty pink rose
buds edging the neck and sleeves.
When she tried it on she ran carefully to Dorothy and exclaimed,
"Dorothy, dear, just see my new dress! Isn't it wonderful? Do you like
it? Do you think it is becoming? And look at these!" and she held up a
new pair of pink satin slippers, and gloves to match.
Dorothy laughed gayly, saying, "Dear, dear Alfy, they are beautiful
things, and I have never seen you look quite so fine before."
"I must show Jim," she answered. And off she went to the next room,
where Jim sat thinking and dreaming. "What do you think of me?" she
asked him.
Jim looked up, saw Alfy, and said, "You look like a very fine young
lady who has just stepped out of a picture." And he made a mental
note of the fact that the girl had no ornament about her neck, and
made a resolution to get up early and go out the next morning and buy
Alfy a string of coral beads that he thought were just needed to
finish her costume. These he would give Alfy for her parting gift.
The next morning Jim carried out his purpose and bought the string of
corals, pale pink, graduated beads, a string just long enough to go
around the girl's neck. And for Mrs. Calvert he bought a set of collar
and belt pins to match in heavy dull gold.
These two gifts he labeled and sent up to them. He was busy that
morning moving his possessions to Mrs. Quarren's so that he would be
all ready to occupy his room there that evening. He was to meet
Dorothy and the rest of her party at the Pennsylvania station at noon
time.
Mrs. Calvert, Dorothy and Alfaretta, as early as possible, went down
to the lawyer's office.
"Mr. Van Zandt will receive you in his room right away. He expected
you," said the pleasant faced girl, as Aunt Betty and the two girls
walked into the office.
"Mr. Van Zandt, this is my ward and niece, Miss Dorothy Winchester
Calvert and her friend, Miss Alfaretta Babcock," said Aunt Betty,
introducing the two girls.
"So you are the fortunate Miss Dorothy Winchester Calvert," the lawyer
gravely said. "Let me see, little miss, how about the proof I must
have? Proof is what is needed now. My colleague has to be satisfied.
So do the London solicitors."
"Until yesterday, Mr. Van Zandt, Dorothy always wore a locket around
her neck in which were her mother's and father's pictures. We were
unfortunately caught in a hotel fire, and some of our things were
destroyed. This locket has been missing since the fire. The hotel
people have since then done their utmost to trace the missing article,
whose value now is priceless, and nothing has been seen of it.
Detectives are now working on the case."
"Most unfortunate--most unfortunate," commented Mr. Van Zandt. "Have
you no other proof?"
"There is my word, some old letters, and a picture of Dorothy's father
taken when he was quite young, which I have at Bellevieu. I will send
for them and have Jim bring them to you. In the meantime, he has
promised to attend to the tracing of the locket, and will report to
you about it," answered Aunt Betty.
"I will let you know, too, Mrs. Calvert, how my colleague takes this
news, and," added the lawyer, "I would like you and Miss Dorothy to
sign a number of papers, and Miss Babcock can sign as a witness for
Miss Dorothy."
Before long they had all affixed their signatures to quite a number of
important looking papers. Alfaretta felt very consequential and
trembled visibly.
This did not take long, and, bidding Mr. Van Zandt good-bye, they were
soon hastening to the Pennsylvania depot, to await the coming of Jim,
and the others of the troupe who were to travel with them.
Dorothy hoped that Mr. Ludlow would not forget their private car, as
she was anxious to see it. Aunt Betty was to have charge of it, Ruth,
Alfy, and Dorothy being in her care for the entire trip.
Alfy was slowly counting the minutes off. She wanted to thank Jim, as
she thought more of the little string of corals than anything else in
the world just then. They had pleased her beyond words. Dorothy was
glad, too, because in giving Alfy the string of corals and Aunt Betty
the pins it detracted from the strangeness of his giving such a lovely
present to her. Aunt Betty and Alfy were both hearty in praise of
Dorothy's new ornament, and commented on Jim's taste in selecting it.
At the Pennsylvania station they found Jim waiting.
"What did Mr. Van Zandt say?" he questioned, coming to meet them. "I
have tended to your trunks, and put them and your suit cases in your
private car. Mr. Ludlow and his gathering party are over in the other
side of the station, and I will take you over to them in a few
minutes."
"We can't very well prove Dorothy's identity without that locket. It
is most necessary for Mr. Van Zandt to have it. I told him," informed
Mrs. Calvert, "that you would keep track of the search, and bring it
to him immediately it is found. Also, Jim, I must write to Bellevieu
and have some things, a picture of Mr. Calvert and one or two letters
I have there, forwarded to you. Will you see that they are placed in
Mr. Van Zandt's hands safely? We had to sign a great many papers. The
trouble is in convincing Mr. Van Zandt's colleague and the London
solicitors who have the property in their hands."
"I will certainly do my level best," answered Jim, "to get the locket
back, and will let you know of everything that comes up."
Then they all walked slowly across the immense waiting room of the
station, and in a far secluded corner found Mr. Ludlow and Ruth, among
a group of chattering people, some old, some young, and Dorothy
wondered just who belonged to the company and who did not.
Mr. Ludlow came forward. With him was a tall, dark young man. "Mrs.
Calvert," said he, "let me introduce Mr. Dauntrey. Mr. Dauntrey is our
treasurer. This is Miss Dorothy Calvert, of whom you have often heard
me speak, and her friend, Miss Babcock. Mr. Dauntrey, ladies."
"I am sure I am very pleased to meet you all, and I am sure we shall
all be firm friends before long," said Mr. Dauntrey, pleasantly, his
eyes lingering longer on Dorothy than any of the rest.
Just then Ruth rushed up to Dorothy and exclaimed, "Dear, dear
Dorothy, I have been hearing wonderful tales about you--about how you
saved your precious violin from the fire, and then were gallantly
rescued by Jim, our new hero. Oh, tell me all about it! I am dying to
hear it all from you! It must have been very thrilling. Oh, why is it
I never get into any such wonderful adventures?"
"I will tell you what little there is to tell when we get started on
our trip. We shall have lots of time on the train," answered the girl.
"Yes, indeed," said Ruth, "and I shall see that you do not forget your
promise. Come over here and let me introduce you to some of the
members of our company. I sing. You play the violin. That blonde lady
over there, Miss Mary Robbia, has a wonderful contralto voice. The
little girl over there, Florence Winter, is a dancer. She does all
kinds of classical dances and is considered very wonderful. And Mr.
Carlton is the pianist. He is the man standing over there talking to
the lady in black."
Dorothy looked at each person as Ruth pointed them out, and felt that
she would enjoy her trip very much, for they all looked like nice,
congenial people. Mr. Ludlow came up to her then and presented Mrs.
Calvert, Dorothy and Alfy to all the members of the company, each in
turn, Miss Robbia, Miss Winter and Mr. Carlton.
They then all said good-bye to all their friends and relatives who
had come to see them off, and hastened to board their car, which was
to start in a few minutes.
"Good-bye, my little girl," whispered Jim, kissing a stray lock of
Dorothy's hair as he swung off the car.
The car gave one jerk and then started out. The girls waved good-bye
from the car windows till they could no longer see the ones they were
leaving behind.
It would take the remainder of the afternoon to reach Washington, and
there they were to meet one or two more members of the company, and to
learn of the final plans for the whole trip.