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DOROTHY DAINTY AT GLENMORE
by
AMY BROOKS
With Illustrations by the Author
[Illustration--Book Cover]
[Illustration: "A LETTER FROM VERA!" ANSWERED DOROTHY.--_Page 3._]
* * * * *
Popular Stories.
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Each illustrated by the Author.
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RANDY'S SUMMER. RANDY'S GOOD TIMES.
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RANDY AND PRUE. RANDY'S PRINCE.
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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 AT THE MOUNTAINS.
DOROTHY DAINTY'S HOLIDAYS.
DOROTHY DAINTY'S VACATION.
DOROTHY DAINTY'S VISIT.
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LITTLE SISTER PRUE. PRUE'S MERRY TIMES.
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PRUE'S PLAYMATES. PRUE'S JOLLY WINTER.
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* * * * *
Boston
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
Dorothy Dainty
Trade-Mark
Registered in U.S. Patent Office
Published, August, 1917
Copyright, 1917, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
All rights reserved
DOROTHY DAINTY AT GLENMORE
Norwood Press
Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass.
U.S.A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I OFF TO GLENMORE 1
II THE FIRST SOCIAL 18
III MISCHIEF 40
IV A WONDERFUL TONIC 61
V A SLEIGHING PARTY 82
VI THE LOST NECKLACE 99
VII WHEN NANCY DANCED 122
VIII A BIT OF SPITE 138
IX THE WISHING-WELL 157
X A LIVELY WEEK 181
XI AN INNOCENT SNEAK-THIEF 202
XII A GLAD RETURN 219
ILLUSTRATIONS
"A letter from Vera!" answered Dorothy (Page 3) _Frontispiece_
FACING
PAGE
She wished that she might know what they were saying 32
"Oh, what a fright!" she cried 74
"This necklace is mine!" returned the accused girl excitedly 112
At the end of the wall Betty and Valerie waited 150
Drawing closer, Nancy whispered a rare bit of news 186
DOROTHY DAINTY AT GLENMORE
CHAPTER I
OFF TO GLENMORE
The Stone House looked as fine, and its gardens as gay with flowers, as
when the members of the household were to be at home for a season, for
it always seemed at those times as if the blossoming plants did their
best, because sure of loving admiration.
But something entirely new was about to happen; something that made
Dorothy Dainty catch her breath, while her dearest friend, Nancy Ferris,
declared that she was wildly happy, except that the whole thing seemed
so like a dream that she could hardly believe it.
"That's just it, Nancy," said Dorothy. "It surely does seem like a
dream."
Yet it was true, and not a dream that Mr. Dainty was to be away from
home for some months, that Mrs. Dainty was to accompany him, and that
Aunt Charlotte would be with them, and that Dorothy and Nancy were to
spend those months at a fine school for girls, and Vera Vane, merry,
mischief-loving Vera, would be eagerly looking for them on the day of
their arrival. One would almost wonder that the thought of being away at
school should appeal to Dorothy and Nancy, but it was the novelty that
charmed them.
It was always delightful at the Stone House, and there had been summer
seasons at shore and country that they had greatly enjoyed, but here
was a new experience, and the "newness" was delightful.
A letter from Vera had just arrived, and Dorothy, out in the garden when
the postman had handed it to her, stood reading it.
"Her letters are just like herself," she whispered.
She looked up. Nancy was calling to her.
"A letter from Vera!" answered Dorothy.
"We shall have to hurry a bit," Nancy said, "James is strapping the two
trunks, the suit-cases are out in the hall, and we must be ready in
twenty minutes."
"All right!" cried Dorothy. "Give me your hand and we'll run to the
house."
She tucked the letter into the front of her blouse, and then promptly
forgot all about it.
The "twenty minutes" sped on wings, and when at last Dorothy and Nancy
sat side by side in the car, their trunks checked, their suit-cases, and
umbrellas on the seat that had been turned over for them, they turned,
each to look into the other's eyes.
Dorothy's lip quivered, but she spoke bravely.
"It is hard, this first trip away from home without mother or Aunt
Charlotte with us," she said. Then quickly she added:
"But it will be fine when we get used to being away from home."
"Oh, yes, it will be _fine_!" Nancy said in a firm voice, but she looked
down, lest her eyes show a suspicious moisture.
As the journey progressed, their spirits rose. After all, it was not
really "good-by," yet.
Mrs. Dainty had postponed the actual "good-by" until a week after
Dorothy and Nancy should have begun the school year at Glenmore.
She knew that Vera Vane was a host in herself, her friend and chum,
Elfreda was nearly her equal in active wit, and high spirits, and at
least a few of the other pupils would have already formed a speaking
acquaintance with the two new girls.
The girls would have been assigned places in the classes for which they
were fitted, and thus the school work would be planned, and their time
closely occupied.
Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte were also eager to know if the two who
were so dear to them were comfortable, satisfied with their
surroundings, and looking forward to a pleasant school year. Until thus
assured, they could not set out on the journey, for the trip had been
planned as a means of rest and recuperation for Mrs. Dainty. How could
she rest, or enjoy the trip unless she were sure that Dorothy was
absolutely content and happy? If Dorothy were happy, Nancy was sure to
be, because the two were inseparable, and their tastes nearly identical.
The two girls were a bit tired of looking from the window at the flying
scenery, and Nancy expressed the wish that they had brought something
with them to read.
"I did," Dorothy said, with a laugh, and she drew Vera's letter from her
blouse.
She read it aloud, while Nancy leaned against her shoulder, enjoying it
with her.
"I wish you had come the first day that school opened, but I'll be on
the lookout for you and Nancy. My! But we'll have fun and a plenty of it
this year at Glenmore," she concluded, signed her name, and then added a
postscript.
"Patricia, and Arabella are here, both--no,
_each_--oh, which _should_ I say? Anyway, they're
acting just outrageous, and already they've earned
the name that the girls have given them. They call
them 'The Freaks,' and truly the name fits. They
speak of Patricia as 'the one with the queer
clothes,' and of Arabella as 'the medicine-chest.'
"She's taking more pills, I do believe, than she
ever did at home, and she wants folks to notice
that.
"The idea! I'm glad there are two _nice_ girls
coming from Merrivale, although you'd never think
Patricia ever _saw_ the place, for she talks of
nothing but 'N'York.' My brother Bob always laughs
about my long postscripts. It's lucky he can't see
this one!
"Lovingly,
"VERA."
Dorothy folded the letter, again placing it in her blouse, and then for
a time they watched the passengers.
Opposite them was a big woman, who possessed three bird-cages, two
holding birds, and the third imprisoning a kitten.
There was a lean man with a fat little girl beside him, who ate
countless lunches, which were packed in a big basket, that seemed a
veritable horn of plenty.
Yet a bit farther up the aisle was a small boy with a large cage that he
watched closely.
A thick cloth covered it, but once, when the boy was not looking, a long
brown furry arm reached out, and snatched mischievously at his sleeve.
"It's a monkey," whispered Nancy, and the boy turned and grinned.
"'F _he_ knew there was a monkey in that cage he'd make me put it in the
baggage car," he said.
Dorothy was tired with the long ride, and just as she was thinking that
she could not bear much more of it, the brakeman shouted, "Glenmore!
Glenmore!" and the two girls were glad enough to get out upon the
platform.
Glenmore, the village, was a lovely little country place, quiet, and
evidently content with itself.
Glenmore, the school, was a rambling, picturesque home for the pupils
who came there.
Once it had been a private mansion, but its interior had been remodeled
to meet the requirements of a small, and select school for girls.
A bit old-fashioned in that it was more genuinely homelike than other
private schools, it held itself proudly aloof from neighboring
buildings.
It claimed that its home atmosphere was the only old-fashioned thing
about it, and that was not an idle boast, for the old house had been
equipped with every modern convenience. Its instructors were the best
that a generous salary could tempt to Glenmore, and Mrs. Marvin, owner,
promoter, and manager of the school, was an exceedingly clever woman for
the position.
As assistant, Miss Fenler, small, and wiry, did all that was required of
her, and more. She had never been appointed as a monitor, but she chose
to do considerable spying, so that the pupils had come to speak of her
as the "detective."
One of her many duties was to see that the carryall was at the station
when new pupils were to arrive.
Accordingly when Dorothy and Nancy left the train, and found themselves
on the platform, Miss Fenler was looking for them, and she stowed them
away in the carryall much as if they had been only ordinary baggage.
Then, seating herself beside the driver, she ordered him to return.
"Home," she said, and "home" they were driven, for "home" meant Glenmore
to the colored man, who considered himself a prominent official of the
school.
Classes were in session when they reached Glenmore, so Miss Fenler went
with them to the pretty room that was to be theirs, a maid following
with suit-cases, the colored man bringing up the rear with one trunk,
and a promise to return on the next trip with the other.
A class-room door, half open, allowed a glimpse of the new arrivals.
"See the procession with the 'Fender' ahead," whispered a saucy miss.
"Her name's 'Fenler,'" corrected her chum.
"I know that, but I choose to call her 'Fender,' because she's like
those they have on engines to scoop up any one who is on the tracks.
She's just been down to the station to 'scoop' two new pupils, and I
guess--"
A tap of a ruler left the sentence unfinished.
Arabella Correyville, without an idea as to what was whispered, had seen
the broad smile, and had heard the giggle.
"Who was out there?" she wrote on a bit of paper, and cautiously passed
it to Patricia Levine.
"I don't know. I didn't see them, but they must be _swell_. They had
ever so much luggage." That was just like Patricia. She judged every one
thus.
That a girl could be every inch a lady, and at the same time, possess a
small, well chosen wardrobe was past understanding; but any girl,
however coarse in appearance and manner, could, with a display of many
gaudy costumes, convince Patricia that she was a young person of great
importance.
Miss Fenler talked with them for a few moments, and then left them to
unpack their belongings, saying that later, when they felt rested, they
might come down to the reception hall and meet some of the girls who
would be their classmates during the year.
It was the custom, she said, for the pupils to meet for a social
half-hour before dinner, to talk over the happenings of the day, their
triumphs or failures in class-room, or at sports, or to tell what had
interested those who had been out for a tramp.
There had been an afternoon session that day for the purpose of choosing
from the list of non-compulsory studies.
"Usually," Miss Fenler explained, "the classes meet for recitations in
the forenoon only, the afternoons being reserved for study, and when
lessons were prepared, for recreation."
Miss Fenler left them, closing the door softly behind her.
Dorothy turned to look at Nancy.
"What do you think of her?" Nancy said, asking the question that she
knew was puzzling Dorothy.
After a second's thought Dorothy said:
"We shall get on with her, I believe, but I can't think Arabella or
Patricia would be very comfortable here. Really, they will be obliged to
study here, and Arabella won't want to, and I don't think Patricia
could. If they don't study, how can they remain?"
Nancy laughed outright.
"Don't worry about those two funny girls," she said, "for if they
_won't_ study, or _can't_ study, and so are not allowed to remain,
you'll be just as happy, Dorothy dear, and for that matter, so will
they."
Later, when together they descended the quaint stairway, they found the
ever-present Miss Fenler, waiting to present them.
Vera Vane, and Elfreda Carleton, each with an arm about the other's
waist, hastened forward to greet them.
"Oh, we're so glad you and Nancy have--"
"Just a moment Miss Vane, until you have been properly presented," Miss
Fenler said, in a cold, precise manner.
"But I've always known Dorothy--"
"That makes no difference," the assistant said, and she presented them
in formal manner.
Vera raised her eyebrows, presented the tips of her fingers, and told
Dorothy in a high, squeaky voice that she was _very_ glad to know her.
Elf did the same in an exact copy of Vera's manner.
Several of the pupils giggled, but to their credit, Dorothy and Nancy
managed not to laugh.
When a half-dozen girls had been presented, some one told Miss Fenler
that Mrs. Marvin wished to see her, and what had begun in a stilted
manner, became a genuine girl's social.
When the clock in the hall chimed six, and they turned toward the long
dining-room, the two new pupils had already made the acquaintance of
several girls, who sat beside, and opposite them at the table.
From a distant table Patricia and Arabella were turning to attract their
attention.
It had happened that Arabella had chosen to remain in her room during
the half-hour reunion.
"I don't feel like talking to a crowd of girls to-night," she had said.
"My! If you don't care to talk to girls, it must be you'd rather talk to
boys!" Patricia said, laughing.
"I would _not_!" Arabella remarked, with a flash in her eyes that one
rarely saw.
"Oh, _do_ excuse me!" Patricia said, "but that's all right, for I'll
stay right here and talk to you."
Arabella was not in much of a mood for listening, either, but she
thought it best not to say so. At any other time, Arabella would have
listened for hours to whatever Patricia might care to say, but to-night
she was in a contrary mood.