CHAPTER VII

BEING A GIRL

"It is perfectly horrid to be a girl," Gay said to himself, as the

train steamed away toward Hazelnook. "I always thought that the first

time I traveled alone I'd ask to ride on the engine; now I can't do it

because I've got on these old skirts! I hope May won't suffer so being

a boy. I——"

Gay's reverie was interrupted by an exclamation,

"Why, that must be little May Walcott!"

"She's taken in, too. Here's some fun, perhaps," thought naughty Gay,

turning in the direction whence the voice had come. In the seat behind

were two ladies; a pretty matron and a young girl, toward whom Gay was

instantly attracted.

"Don't you remember Mrs. Dayton, who visits your mamma?" said the

matron.

Gay sprang up, dragged the daisy-trimmed hat off and bowed, then

instead of returning the hat to his head he held it in his hand, with

his small thumb curved over the brim. It was an absurd position for a

girl, but neither lady noticed it.

"This is Miss Maud Berkeley," said Mrs. Dayton. "You may have heard

your Uncle George speak of her."

"He never said a word to me about Miss Berkeley." Gay looked aggrieved.

It was unkind of Uncle George—a favorite uncle—not to have mentioned

such a lovely lady.

"You have not told us how your mamma is?" continued Mrs. Dayton.

"She is very sick. That's why we were sent away—my twin sister and I."

"Sister?" exclaimed Mrs. Dayton. "I didn't know you were both girls: I

thought one was a boy."

"One is a boy," Gay admitted.

Mrs. Dayton trod no further on this delicate ground, much to Gay's

relief. The conductor passed along and she hailed him.

"Will you turn this seat over, please?" said she. "Now, May, you can

sit with us."

Gay rose rather reluctantly. "It's awful," thought the little fraud.

"I know she'll find it all out, but father always says, 'Be polite to

ladies, no matter what it costs,' and I'm not going to forget to be

polite just because I'm playing be a girl."

Then Gay slipped into the proffered seat, hat in hand, just as father

did when he joined ladies!

"Her manners are just like a boy's," murmured Mrs. Dayton, in the

perfectly audible tone that grown people often employ in the presence

of children—just as though they must be deaf because they are young.

"She is a dear," returned Miss Maud. "George often speaks of her."

At the mention of Uncle George's name Gay asked,—

"Isn't my Uncle George a rattling good fellow?"

"Yes," concurred Miss Maud, with a pretty blush.

"He's the jolliest fellow! He gave me boxing gloves, a baseball bat and

Indian clubs for Christmas."

"What strange gifts to a girl!" Mrs. Dayton remarked.

"He gave my sister the same as he gave me—all except the bat. He didn't

give her one, although she's a tip-top player, because he thinks

baseball isn't a game for girls."

"But he gave you a bat," said Mrs. Dayton, in a puzzled tone.

"Y—es," faltered Gay, in great confusion. Here a bright idea flashed

through the little rogue's brain. "He may be partial to me. I may

give the bat to baby; he's going to be a splendid fellow. Nurse says

his muscle is as fine now as little Lord Roslyn's was when he was six

months old. Lord Roslyn was the little nobleman that lived with nurse

in her castle in England. We're going to name baby, George—that ought

to help make him a jolly little kid, don't you think so?"

"Miss Maud thinks so," said Mrs. Dayton, quizzically.

"Does my Uncle George know that you like him so well, Miss Maud? If he

doesn't I'll tell him, if you like."

"He—knows it," faltered Miss Berkeley.

"Some day, perhaps, your Uncle George will give you Miss Maud for an

auntie," said Mrs. Dayton, who evidently enjoyed teasing her friend.

"Did he say so?"

"Yes," replied Mrs. Dayton.

"Are you sure he wasn't fooling?—Uncle George is awfully full of fun."

"Do you think he was fooling, dear?" inquired Mrs. Dayton.

"Will you have a wedding, Miss Maud?" Gay asked, anxiously.

"Yes," Miss Berkeley admitted, with a charming blush.

"I hope it won't be till I'm grown up, and perhaps Uncle George will

ask me to be an usher."

"You queer little chicken!" cried Mrs. Dayton. "You mean bridesmaid;

girls are never ushers."

"Oh!" said Gay.

After this the ladies talked together until the train reached

Hazelnook. When Gay was preparing to leave the car Miss Berkeley said,—

"Will you not kiss me good-by?"

Gay hesitated. "Uncle George mightn't like it," he said. "He's awfully

particular about the things that belong to him." Then the masquerader

dropped his mask altogether, and a soft kiss fell on the lady's

ungloved hand. "That makes me your knight—I'm mother's too."

"I accept your allegiance," said Miss Berkeley, simply; but there was

such a strange expression in her eyes that guilty Gay made a sudden

rush for the door.

"She suspects me!" thought the culprit. "She's too much of a brick to

tell, though, so I'm safe."

An instant later Gay regretted this rash assertion. In jumping off the

car-steps the horrid skirts caught and he fell into Uncle George's arms

just as that young gentleman was about to board the train.

"Hello!" said Uncle George, staring slightly, "what are you doing

here?"

The Walcott Twins · 第 7 / 27 章