Produced by Annie McGuire
Two Little Women
Carolyn Wells
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
* * * * *
PATTY SERIES
PATTY FAIRFIELD
PATTY AT HOME
PATTY IN THE CITY
PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS
PATTY IN PARIS
PATTY'S FRIENDS
PATTY'S PLEASURE TRIP
PATTY'S SUCCESS
PATTY'S MOTOR CAR
PATTY'S BUTTERFLY DAYS
PATTY'S SOCIAL SEASON
PATTY'S SUITORS
PATTY'S ROMANCE
MARJORIE SERIES
MARJORIE'S VACATION
MARJORIE'S BUSY DAYS
MARJORIE'S NEW FRIEND
MARJORIE IN COMMAND
MARJORIE'S MAYTIME
MARJORIE AT SEACOTE
* * * * *
[Illustration: IT TOOK A LONG TIME TO SATISFY THE BOYS'
APPETITES.--_Page_ 199]
TWO LITTLE WOMEN
BY
CAROLYN WELLS
AUTHOR OF
THE PATTY BOOKS,
THE MARJORIE BOOKS, ETC.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
E. C. CASWELL
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1915
BY DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE GIRL NEXT DOOR 1
II DOTTY ROSE AND DOLLY FAYRE 15
III THE NEW ROOMS 29
IV THE BIRTHDAY MORNING 43
V THE DOUBLE PARTY 57
VI ROLLER SKATING 71
VII TWO BIG BROTHERS 87
VIII CROSSTREES CAMP 103
IX DOLLY'S ESCAPE 118
X HIDDEN TREASURE 133
XI A THRILLING EXPERIENCE 150
XII WHO WAS THE TALL PHANTOM? 167
XIII THAT LUNCHEON 186
XIV THE CAKE CONTEST 201
XV WHO WON THE PRIZE? 215
XVI A WALK IN THE WOODS 231
XVII SURFWOOD 250
XVIII DOLL OVERBOARD! 260
XIX SPENDING THE PRIZE MONEY 276
XX GOOD-BYE, SUMMER! 288
CHAPTER I
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Summit Avenue was the prettiest street in Berwick. Spacious and
comfortable-looking homes stood on either side of it, each in its
setting of lawn and shade trees. Most of these showed no dividing fences
or hedges, and boundaries were indiscernible in the green velvety sward
that swept in a gentle slope to the sidewalk.
Of two neighbouring houses, the side windows faced each other across two
hundred feet of intervening turf. The windows of one house were duly
fitted with window-screens, holland shades and clean, fresh white
curtains; for it was May, and Berwick ladies were rarely dilatory with
their "Spring-cleaning." But the other house showed no window dressings,
and the sashes were flung open to the sunny breeze, which, entering,
found rugless floors and pictureless walls.
But at the open front doors other things were entering; beds, chairs,
tables, boxes and barrels, all the contents of the great moving vans
that stood out at the curb. Strong men carried incredibly heavy burdens
of furniture, or carefully manoeuvred glass cabinets or potted palms.
From behind the lace curtains of the other house people were watching.
This was in no way a breach of good manners, for in Berwick the
unwritten law of neighbours' rights freely permitted the inspection of
the arriving household gods of a new family. But etiquette demanded that
the observers discreetly veil themselves behind the sheltering films of
their own curtains.
And so the Fayres, mother and two daughters, watched with interest the
coming of the Roses.
"Rose! what a funny name," commented Dolly Fayre, the younger of the
sisters; "do you s'pose they name the children Moss, and Tea and things
like that?"
"Yes, and Killarney and Sunburst and Prince Camille de Rohan," said
Trudy, who had been studying Florists' catalogues of late.
"Their library furniture is mission; there goes the table," and Mrs.
Fayre noted details with a housekeeper's eye. "And here comes the piano.
I can't bear to see men move a piano; I always think it's going to fall
on them."
"I'm tired of seeing furniture go in, anyway," and Dolly jumped up from
her kneeling position. "I'd rather see the people. Do you s'pose
there's anybody 'bout my age, Mums?"
"I don't know, Dolly. Your father only said their name was Rose, and not
another word about them."
"There's a little girl, anyway," asserted Trudy; "they took in a big
doll's carriage some time ago."
Trudy was nineteen and Dolly not quite fifteen, so the girls, while
chummy as sisters, had few interests in common. Dolly wandered away,
leaving the other two to continue their appraisal of the new neighbours.
She went to her own room, which also looked out toward the Roses' house.
Idly glancing that way from her window, she saw a girl's face in a
window next door. She seemed about Dolly's age, and she had a pretty
bright face with a mop of curly black hair.
She wore a red dress and a red hair-ribbon, and she made a vivid
picture, framed in the open window.
Dolly looked through the scrim of her bedroom curtain, and then to see
better, moved the curtain aside, and watched the black-haired girl.
Dolly, herself, could not be seen, because of the dark wire window
screen, and she looked at the stranger with increasing interest.
At last the new girl put one foot over the window sill and then the
other, and sat with her feet crossed and kicking against the side of the
house. It was a first floor window, and there was little danger of her
falling out, but she stretched out her arms and held the window frame on
either side.
Dolly judged the girl must be about her own age, for she looked so, and
too, her dress came nearly but not quite to her shoetops, which was the
prescribed length of Dolly's own.
It was a pleasant outlook. If this new neighbour should be a nice girl,
Dolly foresaw lots of good times. For most of her girl friends lived at
some distance; the nearest, several blocks away. And to have a chum next
door would be fine!
But was she a nice girl? Dolly had been punctiliously brought up, and a
girl who sat in a window, and swung her feet over the sill, was a bit
unconventional in Berwick.
Dolly was seized with a strong desire to meet this girl, to see her
nearer by and to talk with her. But Dolly was timid. Beside her careful
education in deportment, she was naturally shy and reticent. She was
sure she never could make any advances to become acquainted with this
new girl, and yet, she did want to know her.
She went back to her mother and sister.
"There's an awful big picture," Trudy was saying; "it's all burlapped
up, so you can't tell what it is. It's easy to judge people from their
pictures."
Trudy had graduated the year before from a large and fine girls' school
and she knew all about pictures.
"I think you can tell more by chairs," Mrs. Fayre said; "their easy
chairs are very good ones. I think they're very nice people."
"Have you seen the girl in the window?" asked Dolly. "She's just about
my size."
"So she is," said Mrs. Fayre, glancing at Dolly, and then returning to
her study of the chairs.
"When can I go to see her, Mother?"
"Oh, Trudy and I will call there in a fortnight or so, and after that
you can go to see the little girl or I'll ask her mother to bring her
over here. You children needn't be formal."
"But can't I go over there to-day?"
"Mercy, no, child! Not the day they arrive! They'd think we were crazy!"
Dolly went out on the side verandah. The black-haired girl still sat in
the window. She was frankly staring, and so, every time Dolly caught her
eye, the straightforward gaze was so disconcerting that Dolly looked
away quickly and pretended to be engrossed in something else.
But at last with a determined effort to overcome her timidity, she
concluded she would look over at the girl and smile. It couldn't be
wrong merely to smile at a new girl, if it was the very day she arrived.
They couldn't think her "crazy" for that. But to conclude to do this and
to do it, were two very different matters for Dolly Fayre.
Half a dozen times she almost raised her eyes, her smile all ready to
break out, and then, it would seem too much to dare, and with a deep
blush, she would turn again toward her own house.
But it was nearing luncheon time, and Dolly made a last desperate effort
to screw her courage to the sticking point. With a determined jerk she
wheeled around and smiled broadly at the new girl.
To her amazement, the pretty face scowled at her! Definitely and
distinctly scowled! Dolly could scarcely believe her eyes. Why should
this stranger scowl at her, when she didn't know her at all?
Dolly quickly looked away, and pondered over the matter. She felt less
shy now, because she was angry. Then the bell rang for luncheon.
Dolly started for the house, but unable to resist a final impulse, she
glanced again at the girl in the window.
The girl shook her head at her! It was a quick, saucy, sideways shake,
as if Dolly had asked her something and she had refused. The pretty face
looked pettish, and the black eyes snapped as she vigorously shook her
curly head.
"Pooh!" said Dolly to herself; "wait till you're asked, miss! I don't
want anything of you!"
Dolly went into the house and at the lunch table, she told her mother
and Trudy of the girl's actions.
"I thought she looked saucy," said Trudy, and the subject was dropped.
* * * * *
In the meantime the girl next door had drawn in her feet and jumped down
from the window.
"What a funny lunch!" she exclaimed, as she ran into the dining-room.
"Looks good, though," and she sat down on a packing-box, and took the
plate her mother offered.
"Yes, it's a sort of picnic," said Mrs. Rose; "everything's cold, but it
does taste good!"
The dining-room was unfurnished; though the table and chairs were in it,
they were still burlapped, and the barrels of dishes were not yet
unpacked. Mrs. Rose and her sister, Mrs. Bayliss, sat on packing-boxes
too, and made merry at their own discomfort.
"Seems 'sif we'd never get straightened out," said Mrs. Rose, taking
another sandwich on her plate, "but I s'pose we will. It's always like
this when you move. Thank goodness, George is coming home early,--he's
such a help."
"Yes, he is," agreed Mrs. Bayliss; "what lovely fresh radishes! I'll
take some more. Do you know any one at all in Berwick, Molly?"
"No one at all. George liked the place, and he bought this house from an
agent. But I shan't hasten to make acquaintances. I believe in going
slow in such matters. The neighbours will probably call after a few
weeks, and then we'll see what they're like. The people next door have
lovely curtains. I think you can judge a lot by curtains. And their
whole place has a well-kept air. Perhaps they'll prove pleasant
neighbours. Their name is Fayre."
"I saw the little girl out on the verandah," said Dotty Rose, between
two bites of her sandwich. "She has yellow hair and blue eyes. But I
don't like her."
"Why, Dotty, how you talk!" exclaimed her aunt; "how can you like her or
dislike her, when you don't know her?"
"She's a prig; I can see that, Aunt Clara. I can tell by the way she
walks and moves around. She hasn't any _go_ to her."
"Well, you've go enough for the whole neighbourhood! Probably you'll
find she's a nice, well-behaved little girl."
"All right, have it just as you like, Aunt Clara. When are you going to
fix my room, Mother?"
"As soon as your things come; not till to-morrow, most likely. If we can
get beds to sleep on to-night, that's all I'll ask."
"I think it's fun," and Dotty danced around on one toe; "I'd like to
live this way, always,--nothing in its place and all higgledy-piggledy!"
"I believe you would," returned her mother, laughing. "Now, if you've
finished your lunch, dearie, run away and play, for you only bother
around here."
Dotty ran away but she didn't play. She went from one room to another,
trying to learn the details of her new home; but ever and anon her
glance would stray to the house next door, and she would wonder what the
yellow-haired girl was doing.
Dotty had been allowed to choose her own room from two that her mother
designated. One was on the side of the house that faced the Fayres', the
other wasn't. Dotty hesitated between them. She went in one and then the
other.
"If I _should_ like that prim-faced thing," she said to her Aunt Clara,
"I'd rather have this room, that looks toward their house. But if I
_don't_ like her,--and I'm just about sure I _won't_,--I'd rather have
my room on the other side."
"Oh, you'll like her, after you know her," said Aunt Clara, carelessly.
"But don't mind that, take the room you think pleasanter."
So Dotty considered them both again. The room not facing the Fayres' was
without doubt the more attractive of the two, though not much so. It had
a large bay window, which was delightful; but then on the other hand the
other room had an open fireplace, and Dotty loved a wood fire.
She stood in the room with the fireplace, looking toward the next house.
It was Saturday afternoon, and as she watched she saw the yellow-haired
girl and two ladies come out and get in a motor car.
"I don't like her!" Dotty declared again, though as there was no one
else present, she talked to herself. "She walks like a prig, she gets in
the car like a prig and she sits down on the seat like a prig! I don't
like her, and I'm going to take the other room!"
So, when her own furniture arrived it was put in the room with the bay
window and which did not overlook the Fayre house. The house that she
could see from her newly chosen room, was so hemmed in by trees as to
be almost invisible.
Dotty spent a pleasant afternoon, after her furniture was in place,
arranging her little trinkets and pictures, and putting away things in
her cupboards and bureau drawers.
But every little while some errand seemed to call her across the hall,
and she couldn't help looking out to see if "that girl" had returned
yet.
The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Rose was at home.
"Well, Chick-a-dotty, you'll have a nice playmate in that little girl
next door," he said, as his daughter followed him round the house
looking after various matters.
"'Deed I won't, Daddy; she's horrid!"
"Why, why! what sort of talk is this? Do you know her?"
"No, but I've seen her, and she isn't nice a bit."
"Oh, I guess she is. I came out in the train last night with a man I
know, and he knows the Fayres and he says they're about the nicest
people in Berwick."
"Pooh! I don't think so. She's a prim old thing, and doesn't know B from
broomstick."
"There, there, Dotty Doodle, don't be hasty in your judgment. Give the
little lady a chance."
Later, Dotty and her father walked round the outdoors part of their new
domain.
"Isn't it pretty, Daddy!" exclaimed Dotty; "I'm so glad there are a lot
of flower-beds and nice big shrubs, and lovely blue spruce trees and
lots of things that look like a farm."
The Roses had always lived in the city, and to Dotty's eyes the two
acres of ground seemed like a large estate. It was attractively laid out
and in good cultivation, and Mr. Rose looked forward with pleasure to
the restful life of a suburban town after his city habits.
"There's that girl now!" and Dotty suddenly spied her neighbour walking
with _her_ father around _their_ lawn.
"So it is. I shall speak to him; it's only right, as we are next-door
neighbours, and we men needn't be so formal as the ladies of the
houses."
"I don't want to speak to her," and Dotty drew back. "_Don't_ do it,
Daddy, _please_ don't!"
"Nonsense, child! of course I shall. Don't be so foolish."
"But I don't want to; she'll think I'm crazy to meet her, and I'm not! I
don't want to, Father."
"What a silly! Well, if you don't want to see the girl now, run away.
I'm certainly going to chat with Mr. Fayre, and get acquainted."
* * * * *
Now the other pair of neighbours had, not unnaturally, been talking
about the newcomers.
"You see, Father," said Dolly as she took her usual Sunday morning
stroll around the place with him, "that new girl isn't nice at all. When
I smiled at her, she scowled and shook her head at me."
"Oh, Dolly, I imagine she's all right. Mr. Forrest told me about them.
He knows them and he says they're charming people."
"Well, they may be, but I don't want to meet her. Don't walk over that
way."
"Yes, I shall. Mr. Rose seems to be coming this way, and I shall do the
neighbourly thing and have a chat with him."
"Why, Father, you don't know him."
"That doesn't matter between next-door neighbours, at least between the
men of the houses. Come along, and scrape acquaintance with the little
girl. I think she looks pretty."
Dolly started, then a sudden fit of shyness seized her, and she stood
stock-still.
"I can't," she murmured; "oh, Father, please don't ask me to!"
"All right, dear; don't if you don't want to. Run back to the house. I'm
going to speak to Mr. Rose."
And that's how it happened that as the two men neared each other, with
greeting smiles, the two girls, started simultaneously, and ran like
frightened rabbits away from each other, and to their respective homes.