THE BOYS
While Jack went to her mother to report, Nan betook herself to the tent
where she found Mary Lee, Daniella and Jo in kimonos lying on their
cots “fooling” in a manner most girls have. “Guess what, girls?” cried
Nan poking in her head. “Such an adventure!”
“Do come in and tell us about it,” responded Jo. “Things are beginning
to pall on this crowd and we want some excitement. What have you been
doing?”
“Did you find Jack?” asked Mary Lee.
“Yes, I found her and in the finding came the adventure.”
“Where did you go?”
“Fortunately I went up the lake instead of down. I remembered the last
time we were out together she said we had never gone into a certain
little inlet and that she meant to explore it some day. So I paddled
up that far, got out and discovered an Indian’s tent, one of those
basket-makers, you know. Well, you remember how Jack always makes the
acquaintance of any one who happens to come along, so I thought I
would inquire at the tent if she had been that way, and learned that
she had gone along about noon, had inquired the way to our camp, and
then had taken the path leading in the opposite direction. That decided
me to follow her track and here came the adventure. I was going slowly
along, looking this way and that, when suddenly out of a little log
house, which I had never seen before, darted a mediæval princess.”
“You don’t by any chance mean a middle-aged lady?” inquired Jo lazily.
“Stupid! Don’t interrupt me at the most exciting point of my story.
Well, when I saw this creature in dim red brocade, a green velvet train
flowing out behind her and a white veil cascading down her back, you
may imagine my surprise, and when I saw it was Jack you can imagine the
still further surprise.”
“Jack!” came a chorus of astonished voices.
“Yes, my dears, Jack it was in the flesh, though I wasn’t sure for a
moment whether I was dreaming or not. Oh, I forgot to tell you that
before that, I had been attracted by sounds of a violin which issued
from the little house. Some one was playing, and playing well. It
was all like a fairy tale. Well, Jack dragged me toward the house
insisting that I should go in and see it because it was so dear. In my
innocence----”
[Illustration: “SUDDENLY OUT DARTED A MEDIÆVAL PRINCESS.”]
“And curiosity,” put in Mary Lee.
“Of course curiosity. Who wouldn’t be curious under such circumstances?
Well, I went in and--girls, you’ll never guess whom I saw there.”
“Not Miss Dolores,” Mary Lee cried.
“No. How could it be? You’re ’way off.”
“One of the girls from the Wadsworth school, Charlotte, maybe.” This
from Daniella.
“Not old Blue China?” Jo sat up in her eagerness.
Nan shook her head. “No, no, you are not even tepid. Guess again.”
“Male or female?”
“Male.”
“Oh, now this is getting interesting,” declared Jo. “I believe it is
Dr. Paul Woods. He is always bobbing up in unexpected places.”
“More likely Carter Barnwell,” remarked Mary Lee. “He spoke of coming
on some summer and living out in the open.”
“Wrong again, though there is a faint connection between Jo’s guess and
the reality, little as she suspects it.”
“Give it up. Tell us, Nan.”
“Well, the proprietor of said log cabin is no less person than
the gentleman to whom you proffered bread and bacon on that
never-to-be-forgotten occasion when we shared the mountain hut with
four much bedraggled strangers.”
“Nan!” Jo showed all the surprise Nan expected.
“True, oh, queen. I didn’t recognize him at first nor he me, but after
a while we became vaguely conscious that we had met before. He is an
artist by the name of Wells and he’s a perfect dear with the loveliest
eyes, so full of fun yet with a serious expression at times.”
“Listen to her,” cried Jo. “Nan is really smitten.”
“I’m not,” returned Nan hotly. “I was only describing him to you. If
you are going to talk that way I’ll not trouble you with any more of my
story.”
“Now, Nancy, dear, you shouldn’t fall into the trap so easily,” said
Jo coaxingly. “I was only trying to tease you. Go on. It is wildly
exciting.”
Nan, somewhat mollified, resumed her tale. “Well, it seems that Jack
came upon him in the woods where he was sketching, and as it was late,
too late for her to walk back in time for dinner, he asked her to have
dinner with him.”
“What in the world was Jack doing away off there?” asked Mary Lee.
“Did she have a canoe?”
“No, my dear. The little goose had gone forth to hunt Happy, who, I
regret to say, has taken to the wilds again.”
“What a silly child. She might have known she could never find him.
Jack is getting too big to do such things,” Mary Lee declared.
“Well, you know what a queer mixture of wisdom and childishness she is,
and she thought she might be able to track him. She insists that she
did for quite a distance. At all events, that is what she went for, and
in following the path she somehow lost her bearings and thought she was
coming toward camp instead of going from it. The Indian gave her the
proper directions but she thought he was trying to induce her to go to
his tent to buy baskets and she took the opposite way. She declares it
was because it was high noon and the sun was overhead, otherwise she
could have told the east from the west. However, there she was and had
been having a royal time. Mr. Wells had dressed her up in some costumes
he had and was playing the violin to her, pretending she was a Lady
Diana something and he was her knight. It was the violin which made me
stop. I was listening and wondering who could be playing it when Jack
rushed out.”
“Didn’t you feel queer to be calling on a young man?” inquired Mary Lee.
“I certainly did. I scarcely knew which way to look at first, but when
he happened to mention Dr. Paul Woods and I found he knew him, we got
quite chummy. I only stayed long enough to peep at his studio and for
Jack to get off her rig and then we came right back. Oh, girls, it is
the most charming little place once you are inside. I wonder none of us
ever discovered it before. However, it is so hidden by great pine trees
you would scarcely observe it from the lake and we never happened to
land just there.”
“Did you find out who the superlative creatures were who were with him
that day?” asked Mary Lee.
“Yes. At least I didn’t learn their names. The male creature he called
Pinch, and it seems he shares the cabin with him when he is here. One
of the girls was Pinch’s sister and the other a friend of hers. They
have all gone back to the White Mountains where they have been spending
the summer.”
“Peace be to their ashes. I don’t want to see them again,” said Jo
fervently. “Your artist man is quite another thing; he was the only
decent one in the bunch. Do you suppose you will ever meet him again,
Nan?”
“Oh, yes, I am pretty sure I shall. He wants to have Jack sit for him
in that costume he diked her out in, and is coming to ask mother’s
permission on the strength of his acquaintance with Dr. Paul.”
“How romantic! When he sees Daniella he will probably pine to paint
her; they generally do rave over her coloring.”
“Now, Jo,” protested Daniella. “Only one person ever did.”
“You mean only one person really ever did paint you, but I am sure
there were plenty more who wanted to.”
“I can’t understand his wanting to paint Jack,” remarked Mary Lee with
a sister’s lack of admiration for one of her own family. “I don’t think
she is a bit picturesque.”
“You should have seen her in that costume; she looked stunning,”
declared Nan. “She is just at an awkward age now, but Jack isn’t going
to be overlooked when she grows older. She is such a combination of
saint and sinner that her face takes on the most varied expressions.”
“When’s the young man coming?” asked Jo. “I want to be on hand when
that fortuitous moment arrives.”
“Mercy me! I don’t know. I didn’t pin him down to times and seasons,
Jo.”
“Well, it is refreshing to know there is a masculine element in the
neighborhood,” remarked Jo.
“By the way,” put in Mary Lee, “do you know that our fellow campers
leave next week, and that we shall be in sole possession unless others
come? I am sure Miss Marshall would like to have a greater number.
Daniella says that Effie Glenn and her brother would be glad to come if
Miss Marshall would consent to making it a mixed camp.”
“Won’t she do it?”
“We don’t know; we haven’t asked. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind if they
were our friends. There is no one but ourselves to object, and if
mother and Aunt Helen are willing, I should think Miss Marshall and
Miss Lloyd would be, too.”
“One boy wouldn’t go a great way,” remarked Jo reflectively.
“Still we know him and are sure he is a nice sort,” Mary Lee went on.
“If we only could have more of our own kind we could have lots of fun,
of course.”
“Why can’t we have more of our own kind?” asked Nan. “Don’t you
remember that Ran and Ashby were crazy to come up here and were so
disappointed when they found out this was a girl’s camp?”
“To be sure. I haven’t a doubt but that they’d come in a minute. Do you
know just where they are now, Nan?”
“I think they are still in Boston or somewhere around there. I have an
address that will reach them.”
“What of Dr. Paul? Where and when does he take his holiday?” asked Jo.
“He only takes two weeks and hadn’t decided where he should go, but----”
“But he would be delighted to come, of course, you sly Nan,” said Jo.
“Well, my dears, it is possible that we might get a reinforcement of
four which would mount up to five if we include the artist, and six if
his friend returns.”
“We’ll leave out the friend, if you please,” remarked Mary Lee. “No
such disagreeable cad for me.”
“Perhaps he was only overcome with bashful gloom,” suggested Jo.
The others laughed. “How descriptive! Bashful gloom! I’ve heard of
bashful smiles and of dreadful gloom, but never such a combination,”
asserted Nan, “yet it may fit the individual.”
“I hope we shall never have the opportunity of finding out,” returned
Mary Lee.
“It is wrong, my dear, to harbor resentment,” said Jo sanctimoniously.
“Bah!” exclaimed Mary Lee disgustedly.
“I think you girls would better get into your clothes,” said Nan,
“and then we can consult mother and Aunt Helen about the boys coming
before we say anything to Miss Marshall about it. What did Effie say,
Daniella?”
“She said she did so wish she could have a few weeks here with us and
that she and Hartley were tired of the seashore and did I know of any
camp for masculines in the neighborhood? If so she and Hartley could
come together even if they stayed at different places.”
“Then we can certainly count on them. Let me see, two would be cousins
and two would be friends, so there should be no objections and it
certainly would made it livelier.”
There was a consultation in Mrs. Corner’s cabin and then a committee
was deputized to go to Miss Marshall, Miss Helen consenting to head the
investigating party. The upshot of the matter was that Miss Marshall
readily gave her consent to the boys’ coming. “We often have men in
September,” she said, “when other members of their families are already
here, though we never take in any who do not belong in a way to those
who are here. If Miss Glenn comes, surely her brother may too, while
your cousins will, of course, be quite as acceptable. As for Dr. Woods,
though he is not exactly a relative----”
“He is the next thing to it,” declared Mary Lee, “for he is just like a
brother.”
“And it would be very handy to have such a good doctor in camp,”
observed Jack.
Miss Marshall laughed. “Let us hope his services will not be required,
but we certainly will welcome him on your recommendation.”
So there was a speedy sending forth of letters and when it was
announced that the camp’s number would probably be augmented by three
or four young men it must be confessed that those who had determined to
go elsewhere were a little regretful.
“You might have told us they were coming,” said Florence Yardley.
“We don’t know yet that they are,” Nan told her; “besides their coming
depends on the going of you all, you see.”
“Oh, we’d be willing to give up our tent and go in with Bertha and
Carrie,” said Alice. “Mother and Aunt Ellen could keep their cabin.”
“Or Miss Marshall could put up more tents,” said Carrie. “We would
gladly stay only that we have made all our arrangements to go to the
shore and must not disappoint our friends there.”
Jo gave Nan a sly look. It was like both Carrie and Florence to be very
sure their presence would be desired. “As if we cared,” said Jo later.
“We shall have a much better time without them, I’m sure. It will be
jolly to have just our own crowd.”
True to his word Mr. Wells was not long in appearing to prefer his
request and succeeded in obtaining a reluctant consent from Mrs. Corner
after Miss Helen had promised to go with Jack each time she should
pose. The fact that the young man was a friend of Dr. Paul was in his
favor and, moreover, he was liked on his own account. As soon as he
found out there was a possibility of Dr. Paul’s coming to the camp he
immediately raised a protest. “My dear lady,” he said to Mrs. Corner,
“that won’t do at all. I must have him up at the shack, of course.
I’ll write him this very night. With Pinch away I’m consumed with
loneliness.”
“But if Mr. Pinch returns,” said Mrs. Corner.
A broad smile lighted up the young man’s face. “I beg your pardon, Mrs.
Corner; his name isn’t Pinch, you know; that’s only a nickname. He is
legally known as John Sylvester Romaine. But even if he comes back
there is room and to spare. We often put up three or four of the boys
at Place o’ Pines.”
“Place o’ Pines!” The name again gave Nan a queer feeling. “Would you
mind telling me how you happened to give your place that name?” she
asked as she was walking to the lake with this new acquaintance. Being
the eldest of the Corner girls this privilege was tacitly accorded her.
“Why, your Dr. Paul suggested it. At least he told me of a little girl
he knew down there in Virginia who named her favorite haunt that, and
used to go there to play on a make-believe piano made of an old log.”
The ready color flew to Nan’s cheek. To be sure Dr. Paul had not
betrayed her name, but he had given up her secret to this stranger,
and though long ago the place had been deserted and was now unused
and neglected, Nan could but have a small pang and her face showed
something of what she felt.
The young man watched her curiously and presently he said hesitatingly:
“It couldn’t be that you were the little girl and that I have filched
the name from you.”
“It was I,” responded Nan shyly.
“And you care. Oh, I _am_ sorry. I’ll change the name at once. It
hasn’t been called so before this summer, for I’ve never found exactly
what I liked for it, but when Dr. Paul told me about your Place o’
Pines the name haunted me and----”
“Please keep it,” said Nan impulsively. “There isn’t any Place o’ Pines
down there now. It is only a memory, you see. I was a little girl,
younger than Jack, when I thought of it and made it my special haunt. I
told Dr. Paul about it and he was so interested, but----”
“He shouldn’t have told me, you think? He didn’t mention names, you
see.”
“Oh, there was no harm in his telling, but it used to be such a great
secret that I haven’t recovered from the feeling that it still must be.
I’d like very much if you would name your place after mine. I ought to
feel flattered and I do. It is like being godmother to a namesake.”
“How very sweetly you put it. I think you are very generous, and if you
will be sponsor it will add still greater value to the name. It means
very much more than it did to me, and it is our secret. Of course there
is no use asking you if you like music. I saw it the very first day,
and besides Jack told me you were a wonderful musician.”
Nan gave a deprecating shrug. “Jack is nothing if not enthusiastic and
she thinks her old Nan does wonders, but my ambitions are far ahead
of what I can accomplish. I love music better than anything and I hope
some day to play well; I can’t acknowledge more than that.”
“It is a pity there isn’t a piano in camp; we could have some duets
together, couldn’t we? That’s one advantage I have over you; I can
carry my instrument with me and you cannot However----” He stopped
short and held out his hand. “Auf wiedersehen! We’ll get Dr. Paul up
here and then we shall be over at your camp every day.”
He pushed off in his canoe and Nan watched him gliding up the lake. She
was excited, thrilled. It was all so romantic, so fascinating. To meet
an artist who loved music, who had named his place after hers and with
whom she shared this secret! She stood watching the canoe disappear
around the bend and then she went slowly back to camp, her heart
beating fast. It was like Lohengrin leaving Elsa, only this knight
would return.
Jo, waving a letter, met her before she had gone far. “Open it quick,
Nan. Jack thinks it must be from Ran Gordon for it is postmarked
Boston. Do hurry and tell us if they are coming.”
Nan gave a sigh and reluctantly left her day-dreams. Of what importance
was a common-place cousin by the side of the knightly Lohengrin?
Yet she was interested enough to break the seal of her letter and to
announce that Ran and his brother Ashby were coming the first of the
following week.
“Good!” cried Jo. “Daniella has heard from Effie and she’ll be here
with Hartley on Saturday. So we’re all right. Now there is only Dr.
Paul to be heard from.”
“Mr. Wells is going to write to him to-day,” Nan told her. “He insists
that Dr. Paul shall be his guest and in all probability he can persuade
him.”
“So much the better, for of course we shall see them both more
frequently. Your artist seems a jolly good fellow and I know he will be
no end of fun when we know him better. What do you suppose he said to
me?”
“What?” said Nan, feeling a moment’s bitterness.
“He said I had saved his life and that he would show his gratitude by
giving a picnic in my honor, when he would be the one to supply the
eatables and would I fry the bacon, please; he liked it burnt on the
edges.”
Nan made no answer, for a wild feeling of jealousy completely submerged
her speech.
[Illustration: CHAPTER XI
PICNICKING]