CHAPTER IX

THE WISHING-WELL

"Isn't it funny to think that we stopped at the very place to wish, and

never knew it?" said Valerie, as they ran along the foot path that would

take them back, the shortest way to the wall, and the wishing-well.

"Not so 'funny' as that we'd take so much time and trouble to wish when

we get there," said Betty.

"Why is it odd?" Valerie asked, stopping squarely in front of Betty, and

looking at her with round eyes.

"Oh, because we're acting exactly as if we believed in the old well,"

Betty said, looking a bit annoyed, yet keeping straight on toward the

wall.

"Well, of course we're not so silly as to _really_ and _truly_ believe

it could grant our wishes, but it's no harm to try," responded Valerie.

Betty laughed.

"Oh, we don't believe it all,

Yet we _must_ believe a little

We _b'lieve_ the water boils

When the steam comes from the _kittle_.

"It's dark inside the drum,

Yet we hear the drumming well,

But that we wished beside the wall

We'll never, never tell."

"Where did you hear those verses?" Valerie asked.

"That's a funny song my brother sings. I made the second verse to fit

to-day."

"Why, Betty Chase! Who'd think you could make poetry?" cried Valerie,

looking Betty over, as if it were the first time she had ever seen her.

Betty laughed gayly.

"I guess Mrs. Marvin would tell you it wasn't poetry. Don't you remember

she told us the other day that many people could write verses, but that

verses were not always _poetry_?"

"Well, all the same, I like the funny verses," Valerie said, "and here

we are at the wall again."

"And here's luck to us, and our wishing!" cried Betty.

She sprang up on the wall beside Valerie, and for a moment the two sat

thinking.

It was Valerie who first spoke.

"I've been trying to think what to wish for," she said, "and now all at

once I know. Mother told me to work hard this year, so as to stand high

in my class, and Aunt Phyllis said if I could finish in June with

ninety per cent. average she'd give me a beautiful ring. Yes, that's

what I'll wish for by the old well, and after I've wished it, I'll work

harder than ever so that my wish will come true. Well, why do you

laugh?" she asked, looking not only amazed, but rather vexed at Betty,

who could not stop laughing even when she saw that Valerie was far from

thinking it a joke.

"Well, what have I said that is so awfully funny?" she asked sharply.

"Don't be provoked, Valerie," Betty said, but her shoulders shook

although she tried to check her laughter.

"I was only thinking," she continued, "how generous you were to help the

old well out so nicely. Just as soon as you've wished, you'll start

right out to work hard enough to just _make_ the wish come true, well

or no well, and I do believe, if your aunt gives you the ring, you'll

forget how hard you worked, and you'll be saying: 'I do more than half

believe in the wishing-well!'"

Valerie was never long angry, and she laughed as she answered:

"Well, Miss Wise-one, are you going to wish, and then sit back and wait

to see if it 'comes true'?"

"I'll wish just for fun, but I don't believe what she said about the old

well any more than you do, Valerie Dare. We'd be silly to even think

that an old well had any power to grant wishes," Betty said, but Valerie

laughed again.

"Then why did we bother to sit on this wall and wish?" she said.

"We might just as well wish while we're waiting along the road."

"Come on!" cried Betty. "You wished on the wall beside the well, and

I'll wish as we walk along, and we'll see which gets what she wished

for."

"All right," agreed Valerie, "but I _do_ hope you'll get yours, Betty."

"I'm as likely to, as if I'd kept sitting by the well," Betty said, "for

I wish for what just _couldn't_ happen."

"Why Betty Chase! Why don't you wish for something that you've a

_chance_ of getting," said Valerie, stopping squarely in front of Betty.

"Because I have everything I want but one thing," was the quiet reply.

"And that one thing is--what?" queried Valerie.

"I love Dorothy Dainty, and I don't want to say 'good-by' to her when

school closes. I'd like to be where she is this summer, but that

_couldn't_ be. You see our summer home is lovely, and we go there every

year. Father and mother like the country better than the shore, but I

like the beach, and the water best. Dorothy and Nancy will go home to

Merrivale, but whether they spend the summer there, or go away to some

other place, it won't make much difference to me. It's not likely to

happen that they'll come to the quiet little town where we are to spend

the summer."

Betty's merry face now wore such a sober expression that Valerie said:

"Well, I still say I wish you'd wanted something that really could

happen."

At that moment some one appeared just around a bend of the road, some

one wearing the gayest of colors, and with her a little old-fashioned

figure in a dark brown dress.

"Look! Patricia and Arabella are coming this way, and they look as if

they were planning something great. Just see how close together their

heads are! I don't know Arabella very well, but when Patricia is 'up to'

anything, it's pretty sure to be mischief."

"Oh, I don't know," Valerie. "It's just as likely to be some way she's

planning for a chance to show off."

Betty laughed.

"Did you hear Vera Vane telling about the afternoon that Patricia

knocked at her door, and said that she had come to 'make a call'?"

"I didn't hear that," said Valerie. "What did she do?"

"She was wearing all the rings and bangles that she owned, and in her

hand was a card-case, just as if she were grown up. She sat on the tip

edge of her chair, and she kept taking out her handkerchief, and

shaking it because it was drenched with perfumery, and when she went,

she emptied the card-case on the table, and Vera counted the cards. Say,

Patricia had left _fifty_. Wasn't that funny?"

"Hush--sh!" breathed Valerie, "she might hear you."

Patricia rushed forward, while Arabella, as usual, hung back, preferring

to stare at Betty and Valerie through her spectacles, rather than have a

little chat.

She wanted to watch their faces, and see if they were greatly surprised

with the news that Patricia had to tell.

"Guess where we're going!" Patricia cried, "but you couldn't guess, so

I'll tell you. We're going over to the well, the one that's called the

wishing-well," she explained, "and we mustn't tell what we mean to wish

for, 'cause if you tell, you wouldn't get your wish. Did you know that?"

Betty said that she had not heard that.

"I'll tell you to-morrow just how to find it, but we can't stop now.

There isn't time."

"Late!" cried Valerie. "I guess you two are late. We think we have to

hurry to get to Glenmore on time, and you are going away from school

every minute. Why don't you go to the well, if you want to, to-morrow."

Arabella thought that they ought to turn back, but Patricia seized her

hand, and the two commenced to run.

"They'll be a half-hour late," said Valerie, looking after the flying

figures.

"And 'The Fender' will be waiting for a chance to scold them when they

come in," said Betty.

As they pushed the gate open, they saw a little figure disappearing

around the corner of the house.

"That was Ida Mayo," said Valerie.

"I didn't see her face. Are you sure it was Ida?" Betty asked.

"Oh, it was Ida," Valerie answered, "and I do wonder why she stays in

her room all the time. If she happens to come down when the girls are

out, she runs, the moment she sees any of us coming."

"It's a long time ago that she was sick," Betty replied, "but she must

be all right by this time. I wonder why she ran when she saw us? We

don't know her well enough to stop her to talk. She's bigger than we

are, and she's three classes above us."

"Who told you she stayed in her own room all the time?" continued Betty.

"Patricia Levine said so," Valerie said.

"Why, Valerie Dare, you know Patricia tells--well--things that aren't

_really_ true," said Betty.

"Well, we don't see Ida, now, as we used to," Valerie said.

"That might just happen," said Betty.

It happened that what Patricia had said was true.

The so-called "beautifier" had injured the skin so severely that it

required time to heal it.

Mrs. Marvin had said that Ida was feeling far from well, which was true.

Her vanity had prompted her to do a foolish thing, and she had suffered

for it, both because of her painful face, and because in her

nervousness, she had cried until completely tired out.

Mrs. Marvin had talked with her kindly and wisely, she had let old Judy

take her meals up to her room, and she had personally given her private

instruction, for she pitied the silly girl, and sought to keep curious

ones from annoying her.

Ida had hastened away when she had seen the two younger girls coming

because there still were traces on her cheeks of the burning caused by

the patent "beautifier," and she seemed more afraid of the comments of

the younger girls, than of her own classmates.

As the two girls entered the hall they saw that the tall clock marked

the time as quarter-past five.

"Fifteen minutes to fix up just a bit," said Betty. "Come on!"

They raced up the stairs and soon reached their room.

Valerie was ready first, because Betty had found a letter waiting for

her, and promptly sat down to read it.

"You'd better not stop to read it," cautioned Valerie, "for when we came

in we had only fifteen minutes to--"

But just then Betty gave a little cry of delight.

"Oh-oo! Just listen to this!" she cried. "Father says we are to go to

the shore this summer just for a change, and already he has rented the

summer place." She clapped her hands, and laughed with sheer happiness.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that to-night. I do believe I'll dream about

it," she said.

The half-hour for social chat was over, and dinner was half through when

Patricia and Arabella entered the dining-room.

All eyes were turned upon them.

Patricia held her chin very high, and looked as if she were thinking: "I

know I'm late, but what of that?" She was assuming a boldness that she

did not feel, whereas Arabella was absolutely natural. She felt

frightened, and looked--just as she felt.

"Wouldn't you like to know what they wished?" whispered Valerie, to

which Betty whispered in reply:

"I'd like to know, but they wouldn't tell us."

It was a fixed rule at Glenmore that the pupils must be present at the

social half-hour, and then be sure of being prompt at six, the dinner

hour. Patricia and Arabella were the first to break that rule.

* * * * *

There was to be a week's vacation, and all but four of the pupils were

to spend it at home.

They were Patricia and Arabella, Dorothy, and Nancy.

Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte were still traveling, and Mrs. Vane had

asked Vera to bring Dorothy and Nancy home with her for the week.

Already they had planned enough pleasure to last a month, and Vera was

still racking her busy brain to think of other things that they might

do.

The pupils were welcome to remain at Glenmore if they wished, and

Patricia had decided that that was just what she would do.

Arabella had hesitated. She was fond of her father, and she had intended

to go home for the week, but Patricia had declared that they would stay

at Glenmore, and Arabella was no match for Patricia, so it was settled

that they would remain at the school.

The week at Vera's home opened charmingly.

Mrs. Vane had given the week over to Vera and her three little guests.

"It isn't quite a week," she said when she greeted them, "for you have

arrived Monday afternoon, and you must leave Saturday morning. That

gives us Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and we must make each

day delightful."

"It always is delightful here," said Dorothy, "and it seemed so good to

come to you when mother was away."

Mrs. Vane drew Dorothy closer. She knew that at heart, sweet Dorothy was

a bit homesick.

"We'll have a pleasant little home evening with music and games," she

said, "and you'll all feel rested by to-morrow. I'll not tell what I've

in store for to-morrow. That is a secret," she said.

Of course Vera coaxed, and the others tried to guess, but Mrs. Vane

remained firm, only laughing as their guessing grew wilder.

"Mother truly can keep a secret, but I can't," said Vera. "I mean to

keep it but first thing I know, I'm telling it."

"We all know that," said Elf, and Vera joined in the laughter of the

others.

Tuesday was fair, and Mrs. Vane, at lunch looked at the four bright

faces before her, Vera, a small copy of herself; Elf, whose mischievous

face was truly elfish; Nancy, whose gypsy beauty always pleased, and

Dorothy, blue-eyed, fair-haired, whose lovable disposition shone from

her eyes, and made her sweet to look upon.

"We shall take a trip to Fairy-land this afternoon," she said, "and

must start directly after lunch."

That was all that she would tell, and as they motored up one busy

street, and down another, she enjoyed watching their eager faces, and

listening to their chatter.

Fairy-land proved to be a wonderful play, depicting Elf-land with

fairies, water nymphs, elves and witches, goblins, and gnomes, with

exquisite scenery, beautiful costumes, and graceful dancing that held

them entranced, from the time that the curtain went up until the grand

march of the fairies at the finale.

The "grown-ups" in the audience were delighted, so it was not strange

that Mrs. Vane's party was spellbound.

Of them all, Nancy best understood the perfect art of the dancing. She

had been drilled in those dainty steps, and she saw how cleverly each

did her part.

It was an afternoon of enchantment, and when the play was over, the gay

little party howled along the broad thoroughfare toward home and they

talked of the beautiful fairy play, and the graceful girls who had

danced as nymphs.

The four days passed so quickly that when Saturday dawned, it seemed

hardly possible that it was time to return to Glenmore.

There had been a wonderful exhibition of paintings for Wednesday, a huge

fair for Thursday at which Mrs. Vane bought a lovely gift for each as a

souvenir.

Thursday they had motored out beyond the city where willows were showing

their misty green, and gay little crocus beds were in bloom. They had

stopped for lunch at a pretty restaurant that looked for all the world

like a rustic cottage, and then had returned to find Rob Vane waiting to

greet them, as they drew up to the house.

"Hello!" he called to them before they had alighted.

"How is this, that a fellow gets a week's vacation, and comes home from

school to find only servants to greet him?"

"Why, Robert, I am glad enough to have you home for a week. I thought

you were to stay at school for extra coaching?"

"That's what I wrote in my last letter," said Rob, "but I passed exams.

with flying colors. I was nervous, and feared I wasn't prepared, but

say! I was needlessly scared, for I not only 'passed,' but snatched the

prize for mathematics."

"I am proud of you, Robert, and your father will be pleased," Mrs. Vane

said, her fine eyes shining.

"And I'm proud of you, Rob," cried Vera, rushing at him, and clasping

her arms about him.

"Hi, Pussy Weather-vane, it's good to have a little sister," said Rob,

swinging her around until she was dizzy.

"Are you glad to see me, too?" he asked, laughing at her flushed cheeks,

and touzled, flaxen hair.

"Oh, Rob! _So_ glad, even if you do shake me up until I look wild," Vera

said, clinging to his arm, and dragging him toward the little guests.

"I dare to say he's the best brother in the world because neither one of

you has a brother, so you won't be offended."

"Spare my blushes, Vera," cried Rob. "Say, girls, I'm mighty glad to see

you. How long are you to stay? A week?"

"We are going back to Glenmore Saturday," Dorothy said, "and we start at

nine in the morning. There is no one at the Stone House but the

servants, and it was so lovely to come home with Vera."

"It surely was the best thing that you could do," Rob replied earnestly,

for he knew by a slight quiver in her voice that Dorothy was a bit

homesick.

Nancy heard the odd little quiver when Dorothy was speaking, and she

hastened to speak of cheery things.

"We've had just the dearest visit, and we've been to the theater, to a

big fair, to see a hall hung with beautiful pictures, and how we have

enjoyed it all!" she said.

"I'll do the entertaining to-morrow," said Rob. "I'll take you all to

see something that will be no end of fun."

"What will it be, Rob?" Vera asked, but Rob tweaked her curls, and

laughed.

"That's my secret," he said, and they had to be satisfied with that.

Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore · 第 9 / 12 章