CHAPTER XII

A SERENADE

JACK TIVERTON stood in the lower hall one morning, and appeared as if

waiting for some one. In his hand was a short switch that he had cut

from a shrub that grew beside the driveway. Often he looked up the

staircase, and then, as no one appeared, he would continue to strike at

the flies that flew past the doorway.

At last he heard merry voices upon the landing, and then Dorothy and

Nancy came hurrying down the stairs.

"Good morning!" they called, but Jack, in his eagerness to ask

questions, forgot to return their greeting.

"Say!" he cried, "do you know that Mrs. Paxton and Floretta left this

morning before breakfast?"

No, the little girls did not know that.

"Well, they have. I saw them go, and I'm glad. Floretta was fun to play

with, but she wasn't fair. She'd get me to do things, and then if we got

caught, she'd always say I planned it," said Jack.

Dorothy tried to think of something kind to say of Floretta, but she

knew that what Jack said was true. Floretta truly was not in the habit

of playing "fair."

"Her mamma said something queer just as she was going off. She was

talking to a lady, I don't know what her name is, and Mrs. Paxton said:

"'Well, Dorothy Dainty has always seemed to be fond of Nancy, but now

that Nancy is to have a _fortune_, shell love her a deal more than she

ever did before.'"

And now Dorothy spoke, her blue eyes flashing, and her cheeks flushed.

"That's not true!" she cried. "That's not true! I've always loved Nancy,

and always will. I'd love her if she had just nothing at all! Nothing

could make any difference. I love her all I can. Nancy knows that. Every

one knows that."

How keenly she felt Mrs. Paxton's silly speech!

She was indignant that any one should think her love for Nancy so little

worth while that fortune could make it stronger.

How could she love Nancy more than she had always loved her?

Nancy threw her arms about her, and drew her closer.

"Don't you mind, Dorothy," she said, "_I_ know how truly you love me.

Mrs. Paxton didn't know, because I guess she couldn't understand it.

_She_ couldn't love the way you do."

Dorothy smiled through the tears that had filled her eyes.

"There's no one dearer than you, Nancy," she said.

Jack swung his switch at a dragon-fly that flew past the doorway.

"Did you see that darning-needle?" he asked.

"Well," he continued, without waiting for an answer, "I was down the

road a few days ago, trying to catch some of those big steel-colored

ones in my fly-net. I hadn't seen any one after I left this piazza, but

just as I swung my net round to catch the dragon-fly, somebody said:

'Look out, or you'll get bitten!' and I turned round, but no one was in

sight. I was just going to swing my net again, when some one giggled,

and then I saw a little skinny girl looking at me from between some

bushes."

"What was she doing?" Dorothy asked.

"You couldn't guess if you tried for a month!" said Jack.

"She was sitting on a big stone, beside a big puddle that was left there

after the shower. She said she was playing she was a frog, and when she

stared at me through her glasses, and smiled, no, _grinned_ at me, I

couldn't help thinking she looked like one. Say, she had on a green

cloak, a regular frog-color."

"It must have been _Arabella_!" said Nancy.

"I don't know what her name was. I didn't ask her, but while I watched

her she hopped off the stone into the puddle with both feet, and cried,

'po-dunk!' just like an old bullfrog. My! Weren't her shoes wet!"

"I wonder what her Aunt Matilda said when she went home with wet feet,"

said Dorothy.

Without noticing what she said, Jack continued.

"I never saw such a queer girl!" he said, in disgust, "for when I told

her dragonflies would never bite, she said: 'They will. They'll sew your

eyes, and nose, and mouth up. Po-dunk!' and she hopped back on to the

stone, and grinned at me just as she did at first. Say! She made me feel

queer to look at her, and I turned and ran away. I wasn't afraid of her,

of course, but she _did_ make me feel queer!"

"She'd make any one feel queer," said Nancy as they turned toward the

dining-room.

Jack wished that they might have stayed longer in the hall. He had

intended to ask them if they knew Arabella, and if she was always doing

queer things, but Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte joined them, and they

went in for breakfast.

Mrs. Tiverton, coming in from an early walk, took Jack with her to the

other side of the dining-room. He looked across at them, and wondered

what they could have told of Arabella if they had had a chance. He

decided to question them, whispering softly to himself:

"I'll _make_ them tell me all they know about that funny girl."

For several days he tried to catch Dorothy or Nancy at a time when he

could question them.

He chased Dorothy up the long stairway one morning, only to see her

disappear into her room. He had not told her that he had wished to talk

with her, and she, believing that he was only chasing her for fun, ran

from him, laughing as she went.

He found Nancy, a few minutes later, and coaxed her to wait on the

landing.

"Now, Nancy," he said, "you've got to tell me something about that queer

girl that you and Dorothy know."

"If you mean Arabella," said Nancy, "I don't see what I could tell you,

only that she _is_ queer, and you know that now."

"You'll better believe I know it!" cried Jack, "for I met her again

yesterday, and guess what she was doing!"

"Oh, I couldn't," said Nancy. "No one ever could guess what Arabella

Corryville would do."

"Well, she looked like a witch, and acted like one, too," Jack replied.

"It was yesterday that I saw her. I was going across the field, and had

nearly reached the wall, when I looked up, and saw her sitting on the

top bar of the--the--oh, the place where they take down the bars to let

the cattle through."

"I know where you mean," said Nancy, "but why was it strange that she

was sitting there?"

"It was what she was doing that was funny," Jack replied, "and because

you couldn't guess, I'll tell you.

"She didn't look toward me, though I'm sure she must have heard me

coming, for I was just tramping along, and whistling all the way. She

was looking up at the clouds, and counting, 'one--two--three--' very

slowly, and when I was close behind her, she said:

"'Hush--sh--sh! I'm charming the crows!'

"'How long does it take to do it?' I said, for it sounded like nonsense,

and I wanted to hurry. It was almost lunch time.

"'Hush--sh!' she said again. 'There comes one of them now!' and sure

enough a big, black crow did come flying right down, and perched on the

limb of an old tree near her."

"Why, Jack Tiverton," cried Nancy, "you don't believe Arabella really

_made_ him come down, do you?"

"Of course not," cried Jack, "but she wanted me to think so. Say! She

said she was saying a charm, and when I asked her what it was, she

wouldn't tell me. She said it would spoil the charm to tell it. She

looked funny sitting up there on the top rail, and staring at the crows

till her eyes watered. She didn't look like a 'charmer.' She looked

ever so much more like a scarecrow!"

"Oh, Jack, it's horrid to say that!" cried Nancy, at the same time

trying not to let him see how near she was to laughing.

"Well, she _did_!" Jack insisted, "and you're almost laughing now, Nancy

Ferris, and you'd have screamed if you'd seen her roosting there, and

calling herself a charmer! Why, that old crow just flopped down there

for fun, and when he saw the queer-looking girl, he cawed as if it made

him mad, and I didn't blame him. Say! She had a shoe on one foot, and a

slipper on the other. Her apron was put on back-side-to, and she had a

hen's feather in each hand, and she waved them up and down while she

mumbled some kind of a verse. She said her clothes were put on that way

to help the charm. Isn't she a _ninny_?"

Just at that moment, before Nancy could reply, Mrs. Tiverton called

Jack, and Nancy ran to tell the story of Arabella's latest freak to

Dorothy.

* * * * *

One afternoon, a number of little girls were sitting on the piazza at

the Cleverton, and their merry voices attracted Jack Tiverton, who

glanced up from the book that he was reading, and then, because he was

curious to know what so interested them, crossed the piazza, and joined

the group.

Dorothy and Nancy, in the big hammock, held the book of fairy tales,

Flossie Barnet sat near them, while the others, all little guests at the

hotel, sat upon the railing, or in the large rockers that stood near.

Jack joined the row perched upon the railing.

"Tell a fellow what you are all talking about, will you? Will you,

_please_, I mean?" he asked.

"Dorothy Dainty has been reading us a lovely story," said a little girl,

whose merry eyes showed that she had enjoyed it.

"What's it about?" Jack asked, and then, "Oh, _fairy_ tales!" he said.

"Don't you like fairy tales?" Flossie questioned, looking up at him.

No one liked to differ with dear little Flossie, least of all, Jack

Tiverton.

"Oh, I like them _some_," he said, awkwardly, "but,--are there any

stories about bandits or pirates in that book?"

"Oh, no," they cried, in a laughing chorus, "and there aren't any wild

Indians in it, either."

"I don't care much about Indian stories," Jack replied, "but I do like

to read about pirates."

"But just hear what this one was about," said Nancy.

"The wandering prince had, for years, been searching for a lovely

princess, who should look like a beautiful picture that hung in his

father's palace. One day he came to a castle where the people told him a

handsome princess was imprisoned, and he asked why she was kept there.

They told him that she was enchanted, and that some day, a wandering

prince would sing beneath her window, and then the spell would be

broken, and she would be free."

Jack was interested.

"But s'posing he couldn't sing?" he asked.

"Oh, a prince could surely sing!" said Flossie.

"And p'raps he could sing under her window, if he couldn't anywhere

else," ventured a dreamy-eyed little girl who sat near Dorothy.

"And how would he know _what_ to sing?" a cheery voice questioned, and a

pair of merry eyes peered over the piazza railing.

"Oh, Uncle Harry!" cried Flossie, "what difference would it make?"

"All the difference in the world," declared Uncle Harry, "for while the

proper melody would set the princess free, how are we to know that the

wrong melody might not chain her closer than before!"

"Why, the story doesn't say that," said Nancy.

"Perhaps not, but the prince took an _awful_ risk when he chose what to

sing," declared Uncle Harry.

"You're laughing when you say it," said Dorothy.

"He is," agreed Flossie, "and what he says is funny, but I know this:

I'd love to hear some one singing under _my_ window!"

Some ladies, who sat near enough to hear the conversation, were amused

at the children's enthusiasm, and at Uncle Harry's evident interest.

"The prince had his guitar slung over his shoulder by a ribbon," said

Dorothy. "See the picture," and she slipped from the hammock, and

offered the book that he might see the illustration.

"I'm glad he carried his guitar instead of a banjo," he said.

"Why are you glad of that?" Flossie asked.

"Oh, because I really _am_, in fact, I might even say I am delighted,"

he replied.

"I do believe he intends to serenade those children," said a handsome

woman, to her friend who sat beside her; "he is a brilliant man, and one

who is blessed with many talents, and one of his greatest charms is his

love of children. He will go far out of his way to afford them a bit of

fun."

That evening, when nearly every one had left the piazza, and all of the

children were in their rooms, the soft twanging of guitar strings

floated up toward Flossie's window.

She was not yet asleep, and she sat up in bed, and listened.

Yes, it was a guitar! Was it Uncle Harry's?

A little prelude softly played, drew her toward the window.

She crept closer, and peeped out. Yes, there he was, looking right up

toward her window.

Now his fine voice was softly singing, and Flossie held her breath.

"Under thy window, my little lady,

Under thy window, Flossie dear,

Here where the moonbeams softly flicker,

Sing I this song that you may hear.

"Moonlight, and starlight weave enchantment,

Yet shall my song your freedom bring,

You shall be happy little lady,

Give me your love for the song I sing."

"Oh, Uncle Harry, you have it _now_!" cried Flossie. "I love you, when

you're singing, and _all_ the time."

"I know that, dear little girl, but I _must_ have my fun, so I came here

to sing the song I made for you," he said gently.

"Well, you're _dear_," she cried, "and I'll throw you a kiss," and she

did, reaching far out of the window that he might surely see her.

"I caught it!" he cried, and as he turned toward the porch, she heard

him softly strumming the prelude again.

Others had heard the pretty song, for Dorothy and Nancy had a room next

to Flossie's.

The next morning he was coaxed and teased to sing the song again, but he

declared that he could only sing it in the moonlight, that the daylight

would spoil its effect.

The sunny days sped on wings, and soon the guests began to think of

turning homeward.

Mrs. Dainty's party and the Barnets were to leave the hotel at the same

time, and Dorothy, Nancy, and Flossie were delighted that they were to

take the return trip together.

They were talking of the pleasures that they were looking forward to,

and telling of some delightful events that were already planned, when

Jack Tiverton gave them a genuine surprise.

"Mamma has just told me something fine," he said, "and I ran right down

to tell it to you."

"Oh, tell it quick!" said Flossie.

"We're going to live in Merrivale, and we'll be there soon after we

leave here. I'm glad. Are you, _all_ of you?" he asked.

"Of course we're glad," said Dorothy and Nancy; and Flossie hastened to

add:

"Every one of us is glad."

There were bright days, and many pleasures in store for the little

friends, and those who would like also to enjoy them, and to know what

happened during the winter, may read of all this in

"Dorothy Dainty's Holidays."

THE DOROTHY DAINTY SERIES

By AMY BROOKS

* * * * *

Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by the Author

Price, $1.00 each

[Illustration]

_Dorothy Dainty_

_Dorothy's Playmates_

_Dorothy Dainty at School_

_Dorothy Dainty at the Shore_

_Dorothy Dainty in the City_

_Dorothy Dainty at Home_

_Dorothy Dainty's Gay Times_

_Dorothy Dainty in the Country_

_Dorothy Dainty's Winter_

_Dorothy Dainty in the Mountains_

_Dorothy Dainty's Holidays_

_Dorothy Dainty's Vacation_

"LITTLE DOROTHY DAINTY is one of the most

generous-hearted of children. Selfishness is not

at all a trait of hers, and she knows the value of

making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but

for her neighborhood and friends."--_Boston

Courier._

"DOROTHY DAINTY, a little girl, the only child of

wealthy parents, is an exceedingly interesting

character, and her earnest and interesting life is

full of action and suitable

adventure."--_Pittsburg Christian Advocate._

"No finer little lady than DOROTHY DAINTY was ever

placed in a book for children."--_Teachers'

Journal, Pittsburg._

[Illustration]

"MISS BROOKS is a popular writer for the very

little folks who can read. She has an immense

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fail to be amusing."--_Rochester (N.Y.) Herald._

* * * * *

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON

_THE PRUE BOOKS_

By AMY BROOKS

Illustrated by the Author 12mo Cloth Price, $1.00 each

* * * * *

[Illustration]

CUNNING little Prue, one of the most winsome little girls ever "put in a

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_Little Sister Prue_

_Prue at School_

_Prue's Playmates_

_Prue's Merry Times_

_Prue's Little Friends_

_Prue's Jolly Winter_

[Illustration]

"Miss Brooks always brings out the best ways of

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characters.--_Watchman, Boston._

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"To know Prue is to love her, for no more winsome

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* * * * *

_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt

of price by the publishers_

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON

_THE RANDY BOOKS_

_By AMY BROOKS_

12mo CLOTH ARTISTIC COVER DESIGN IN GOLD AND COLORS

ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR PRICE $1.00 EACH

[Illustration]

The progress of the "Randy Books" has been one continual triumph over

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_Randy's Summer_

_Randy's Winter_

_Randy and Her Friends_

_Randy and Prue_

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_Randy's Luck_

_Randy's Loyalty_

_Randy's Prince_

[Illustration]

"The Randy Books are among the very choicest books

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"The Randy Books of Amy Brooks have had a deserved

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* * * * *

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON

Only Dollie

By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha Davidson Square 12mo Cloth $1.00

[Illustration]

THIS is a brightly written story of a girl of twelve, who, when the

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The Little Girl Next Door

By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00

A DELIGHTFUL story of true and genuine friendship between an impulsive

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Winifred's Neighbors

By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo Cloth $1.00

[Illustration]

LITTLE Winifred's efforts to find some children of whom she reads in a

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Through it all she is just such a little girl as other girls ought to

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* * * * *

_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt

of price by the publishers_

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD Co., BOSTON

The Children on the Top Floor

By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00

[Illustration]

IN this book little Winifred Hamilton, the child heroine of "Winifred's

Neighbors," reappears, living in the second of the four stories of a New

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How Barbara Kept Her Promise

By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00

TWO orphan sisters, Barbara, aged twelve, and little Hazel, who is "only

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stories.

Little Miss Rosamond

By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo Cloth $1.00

[Illustration]

ROSAMOND lives in Richmond, Va., with her big brother, who cannot give

her all the comfort that she needs in the trying hot weather, and she

goes to the seaside cottage of an uncle whose home is in New York. Here

she meets Gladys and Joy, so well known in a previous book, "The Little

Girl Next Door," and after some complications are straightened out,

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* * * * *

_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt

of price by the publishers_

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON

"_Brick House Books_"

_By NINA RHOADES_

_Cloth 12 mo Illustrated $1.00 each_

* * * * *

=Priscilla of the Doll Shop=

[Illustration]

THE "Brick House Books," as they are called from their well-known cover

designs, are eagerly sought by children all over the country. There are

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which little girls, and boys, too, for that matter, will like the best.

=Brave Little Peggy=

PEGGY comes from California to New Jersey to live with a brother and

sister whom she has not known since very early childhood. She is so

democratic in her social ideas that many amusing scenes occur, and it is

hard for her to understand many things that she must learn. But her good

heart carries her through, and her conscientiousness and moral courage

win affection and happiness.

=The Other Sylvia=

[Illustration]

EIGHT-year-old Sylvia learns that girls who are "Kings' Daughters"

pledge themselves to some kind act or service, and that one little girl

named Mary has taken it upon herself to be helpful to all the Marys of

her acquaintance. This is such an interesting way of doing good that she

adopts it in spite of her unusual name, and really finds not only "the

other Sylvia," but great happiness.

* * * * *

_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of

price by the publishers_

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

End of Project Gutenberg's Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains, by Amy Brooks

Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains · 第 12 / 12 章