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ADELE DORING AT BOARDING-SCHOOL
[Illustration: “Oh, girls, I just know we are going to have the best
times ever.”]
ADELE DORING AT BOARDING-SCHOOL
by
GRACE MAY NORTH
Author of “Adele Doring of the Sunnyside Club,”
and “Adele Doring on a Ranch”
Illustrated by Florence Liley Young
Boston
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
Published, September, 1921
Copyright, 1921,
By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
All Rights Reserved
Adele Doring at Boarding-School
Norwood Press
Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass.
U. S. A.
Dedicated to the many girls in the “Sunnyside Club of
California,” who have so often written the author telling
her how dearly they love Adele Doring, and how they do wish
that they could be like her
CONTENTS
I. A New Sunnysider
II. The Ogre
III. Two Surprises
IV. New Faces and New Places
V. A Letter from Carol
VI. Betty’s Uncle George
VII. The Departure for Boarding-School
VIII. Apple-Blossom Alley
IX. Gladys Merle’s Clique
X. The Downfall of Gladys Merle
XI. True Nobility
XII. A Wish Fulfilled
XIII. The New Teacher
XIV. Orphan Alise
XV. The Grandfather of Alise
XVI. Taming Katrina
XVII. An Unexpected Spread
XVIII. A Thanksgiving Dinner Party
XIX. Just Skipping Along
XX. The Old-Fashioned Pupil
XXI. The Prairie Home
XXII. Lady Stuckup
XXIII. A Dream that Came True
XXIV. The C. E. P.
XXV. A String of Pearls
XXVI. Romancing
XXVII. Old Friends Arrive
XXVIII. The Closing Party
XXIX. A Bud of a Romance
XXX. Farewell, Linden Hall
ILLUSTRATIONS
“Oh, girls, I just know we are going to have the
best times ever!”
“Huh! Nothin’ but girls”
“I do believe that a young girl posed for that
statue”
“This is Matilda Perkins”
Beyond was the figure of a young girl lying on
the ground
Then little Betty stepped forward holding a long
velvet box
Adele Doring at Boarding-School
CHAPTER ONE
A NEW SUNNYSIDER
“Hark to the carol of the old school bell,
Hark to the message that it has to tell;
Ring it, sing it far and near,
Vacation is over and school days are here.”
Adele Doring sang merrily as she stood in front of the library mirror
placing her rose-colored tam-o’-shanter jauntily on the nut-brown locks
that curled about her pretty face in soft ringlets.
“Are you glad that vacation is over, little daughter?” Mrs. Doring asked
as she came in from the garden with a big bowl of yellow chrysanthemums,
which she placed on the magazine-strewn table.
“Oh, Mumsie!” Adele exclaimed as she whirled about with shining eyes. “I
seem to be always delighted over each new thing that happens. Last
summer I was so glad to go with brother Jack to the desert and I had
such a beautiful time with Eva and Amanda on their Uncle Dick’s
interesting cattle ranch, and then how glad I was to come home again to
my Adorable Mother and my Giant Daddy. I have had a wonderful vacation,
and now, I am just ever so eager to go back to school, and, think of it,
Mumsie, I am in the eighth grade this term, and next year I shall be
going to Dorchester High with my big brother Jack.”
While Adele was chattering, she slipped on her rose-colored sweater
coat, and then, gathering up her books, she gave her mother a light kiss
on the forehead and danced away.
It was hard for her to keep from hippety-hopping down the village
street, but she reminded herself that she was fourteen now and almost a
young lady, but, when she reached the short cut across the meadows, she
skipped in little-girl fashion, waving her free hand in greeting to a
bird which darted out of the grass and skyward with a joyous song.
Hearing her name called, she turned and waited for Rosamond Wright, who
came up quite breathless from running.
“Good-morning, Rosie. Are you glad vacation is over?” Adele inquired.
The maiden addressed shook her head, which set her short yellow curls to
bobbing. “No, not really glad,” she replied. “You know that I would much
rather play than study. Look, Della, there are the girls waiting for us
at the crossing. Carol Lorens, a new pupil, is with them. Have you met
her yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” Adele replied, “but Gertrude Willis tells me that she
is ever so nice and that we shall be glad to have her join the Sunnyside
Club.” Then, waving a hand to the waiting group, Della called, “Top o’
the morning to you!”
There was a merry chorus of greetings in response, and the irrepressible
Betty Burd darted forward and taking Adele’s hand, she sang out, “Miss
Carol Lorens, permit me to introduce you to everybody’s favorite, Adele
Doring.”
“Oh, Bettykins!” Della exclaimed reprovingly. Then, turning to the
slender, pleasant-faced girl, who had recently come to Sunnyside, she
held out her hand saying sincerely, “Miss Lorens, we are ever so glad to
welcome you to our town and to our school.”
“Thank you,” Carol replied. “I know that I shall just love it here.
However, I am not sure that I am to be in your school. We have but
recently moved from the Middle West. I had finished the eighth grade
there and was ready for high, but since there is no high school in
Sunnyside, Father thought I would better report here this morning and
ask the advice of the principal. You see, I am a year older than you
girls, for I am fifteen.”
“I wish that you might attend our school,” Adele said as they entered
the yard. “We do have such merry times, but,” she added brightly, “even
if you have to attend the Dorchester High, you can be with us on
Saturdays.”
The last bell was ringing and so they trooped into the building,
promising to meet under the elm-tree as soon as they had been assigned
to their classes. The real work of the school was not to begin until the
following day.
An hour later they were again together. “Well, Carol, what did Mr.
Dickerson decide?” Adele inquired. “You look almost sad about
something.”
“I am indeed sorry that I cannot be in the class with the rest of you,”
the older girl replied, “but Mr. Dickerson says that my report shows
that I have been over the work of the eighth grade thoroughly and that I
ought to attend the Dorchester High.”
“We are sorry, too,” Adele said, “but we shall see you often, Carol, as
we want you to join our Sunnyside Club.”
“I shall be glad to,” the newcomer replied, happily, “and thank you for
inviting me.”
Then they parted, going in different directions. Carol’s thoughts were
happy ones as she tripped along through the village and out on the Lake
Road.
She smiled to herself as she thought of the merry group of girls she had
just left. Carol had dreaded coming to this strange place, fearing that
she would be very lonely, but now she was to be made a member of the
Sunnyside Club, and she knew that she would love every one of the girls.
Then her thoughts went back over all that had happened in the past
month. There had been the beautiful home in a suburb of Chicago, for her
father had been a prosperous lawyer, then, for reasons which she never
understood, there had been a heavy financial loss, everything they
possessed had been sold, and they had moved to the farmhouse which had
been her father’s boyhood home, on the Lake Road just out of the town of
Sunnyside.
She liked to think of her father as a barefoot boy swinging on the gate
which she was then approaching. From the very first day she had felt at
home in the comfortable brown house which stood in the midst of a
rambling apple orchard. The gnarled old trees were a source of endless
delight to her seven-year-old brother and sister, David and Dorothy.
As Carol opened the gate, she heard merry, chattering noises which she
knew were made by the twins, who, hidden in the branches, were
pretending that they were birds.
As she walked up the gravelly path, the youngsters slid down a near-by
apple-tree and pounced upon her.
“You promised to play with us when you came home from school,” David
cried, “and I want to choose the game,” he hurried to add.
“Why, David Lorens!” his twin sister cried indignantly. “You know it
isn’t your turn to choose a game. You chose yesterday and so it is my
turn.”
“Tut! Tut! Children!” Carol laughingly admonished. “Climb up in the tree
again and be happy little birds until I come out, and then we three will
do something ever so interesting.”
Carol little dreamed that the something that they were to do would make
a wonderful change in her life.
CHAPTER TWO
THE OGRE
Dancing into the sunny living-room, Carol called, “Mother mine, we have
a problem to solve. Can you guess what it is?”
Mrs. Lorens glanced up from the blue patch that she was sewing on a
small pair of overalls as she replied, “Yes, dear, I can guess. The
principal of the Sunnyside school thinks that you are too advanced to
take the work of the eighth grade again.”
“Why, Mother dear, are you a mind-reader?” Carol asked as she sat on a
stool near by. “That is just what happened, and in one way I am ever so
sorry. Of course I am eager to get through high as soon as possible, so
that I may help Daddy ‘recuperate his fallen fortunes,’ as he calls it,
but I am really disappointed not to be able to attend this school, for I
met seven of the loveliest girls, and they asked me to join their
Sunnyside Club. Mother dear, what am I to do? It will cost quite a
little to send me to the city of Dorchester every day, and that is the
nearest high school.”
Mrs. Lorens smiled lovingly at her daughter. “The right way always opens
for us, dear,” she said. “Just now I am not sure what it is, but this
evening your father and I will talk it over,” then she added with a
little sigh, “I had so hoped, Carol, that you might go to
boarding-school this year to study music and drawing, for which I am
sure that you have natural talent, but, because of our changed
circumstances, I fear that it cannot be. That is why your brother Peter
gave up going to college this term. He will continue his law studies
with your father and assist him in the office, but, if we all economize,
and go without something this winter, you may be able to go away to
school by another fall.”
Carol sprang up and kissed her mother impulsively. “_You_ go without,
Mummie?” she exclaimed indignantly. “Well, I just guess not! If Peter
and I need more ‘iddication,’ as Pat used to call it, then we’ll earn
the money ourselves.”
The mother smiled into the earnest brown eyes. She had so wanted Carol
and Peter to have the advantages of higher education, but how proud she
was of them for bearing their disappointment so bravely.
“Mummie,” Carol was saying, “the twins are waiting for me without. Have
you an errand that we can do for you?”
“Yes, dear,” the mother replied. “Your father left a bundle of legal
papers on the desk in his study and you are to take them to Mr.
Dartmoor’s, and your father told me to tell you to give them to the old
gentleman himself, as they are _very_ important.”
“Then it shall be done!” Carol replied brightly, kissing her mother and
skipping away.
A moment later she appeared on the front path.
“Dorothy! David!” she called. “Where are you?” and then, as the two
scrambled down from a tree, she explained, “I have an errand to do for
Father, and, if you wish to go with me, I’ll run you a race.”
“I’ll beat you both!” David cried lustily when they were out on the
highway, which led toward Little Bear Lake.
“Not while your twin Dorothy has such long spider-legs,” Carol
laughingly replied, and then, away they ran down the country road which
was bordered with goldenrod and purple asters. As Carol had prophesied,
Dorothy easily won the race, then, being quite out of breath, they
continued their way at a slower pace.
Half a mile beyond, they could see what appeared to be a dense wood, but
which, in reality, was a beautiful estate, where, in the midst of fine
old trees, stood the castle-like home of their father’s richest client,
Mr. Dartmoor.
Soon Carol and the two children passed under an imposing archway, and
walked along the circling drive. On either side of wide stone steps,
lions crouched, as though about to spring upon the unwelcome visitor.
“You tiny tads stay here,” Carol said softly, “while I go inside and
call upon the ogre.”
“Oh Carol,” Dorothy whispered, her eyes wide with sudden fear, “is Mr.
Dartmoor _really_ an ogre?”
“No, of course not!” the big sister laughingly replied. “I’ve never seen
him, but I’ll tell you all about him when I come out.”
Then Carol went up the steps and lifted the heavy iron knocker and
smiled reassuringly down at the children, who stood watching her, almost
fearfully, at the foot of the stone steps.
“Skip over and look at the fountain,” she called softly, and then
turned, for the door was opening.
A serving-man in blue-and-gold livery admitted her in to a
dimly-lighted, softly-carpeted hall. Having stated her errand, Carol sat
on the edge of a chair holding fast to her bundle of important papers,
and waited the appearance of the old gentleman who Peter had told her
looked like an ogre.
“How solemn and quiet everything is,” she thought as she glanced about,
“but of course there is nothing to be afraid of.”
Just then she heard a cane knocking across the floor in an adjoining
room, the velvet portières parted and Mr. Dartmoor himself stood before
her.
“How do you do, little lady?” he said, and his voice did not sound at
all like an ogre’s.
Carol slipped from the chair and half curtsied. “I’m very well, sir,
thank you,” she replied. “I am Carol Lorens, and my father asked me to
give you this bundle of legal papers.”
“So you are Mr. Lorens’ little girl? You are about fourteen, are you
not?” the old gentleman asked kindly.
“I am fifteen,” Carol replied less timidly.
“I have a granddaughter who is the same age,” Mr. Dartmoor said as he
held back a portière. “Yonder is her portrait.”
“Oh, how lovely she must be!” Carol exclaimed as she stepped inside the
room and gazed admiringly at the life-sized painting which hung over the
mantel. A beautiful young girl looked out at them and a shaggy collie
stood at her side.
“Does your granddaughter live here with you?” Carol asked.
The old gentleman shook his head sadly. “No,” he replied. “Evelyn’s
parents are dead and I have placed her in a good boarding-school, but
she is very, very lonely. Her mother left her only a few weeks ago.”
“Poor Evelyn!” Carol said and there were tears in her eyes. “I did so
want to go to boarding-school myself, but I would far rather have my
mother.”
Mr. Dartmoor went to the door with Carol and the twins raced from the
fountain to meet her. They went shyly up the wide stone steps when the
old gentleman called to them. True, he had shaggy grey eyebrows but the
blue eyes underneath them were twinkling.
When the children were again on the highway, David exclaimed, “I don’t
believe that Mr. Dartmoor is an ogre at all. He looks so kind and jolly.
I think he is Santa Claus.”
“Maybe so!” Carol laughingly replied, and then she told the twins about
the old gentleman’s beautiful granddaughter Evelyn, who was in a
boarding-school near Buffalo.
Suddenly Dorothy asked, “Carol, don’t you feel awfully sorry ’cause you
can’t go away to boarding-school like you expected to?”
Carol smiled down at the pretty upturned face of her little sister as
she replied, “Yes, dear, I am very sorry.”
“Then why don’t you cry?” asked David. “Dorothy always cries when she
can’t have what she wants.”
“I _don’t_ always, so now!” exclaimed his small twin, stamping her foot
and flashing her eyes. “You cried yourself when your stupid old balloon
burst.”
“Do you want to know why I don’t cry?” Carol asked quickly, to quiet the
impending storm. “Well, it’s because our mother tells us that every
cloud has a silver lining and I make believe that not going to
boarding-school is a big, black cloud, and I’m trying to think what its
silver lining would be. Saving the money and making things easier for
Mummie, I suppose.”
Just then a squirrel darted across the path and the twins gave merry
chase, while Carol, left alone, walked along slowly, thinking of the
lovely orphan girl who had everything the world could give except a
mother. Tears rushed to her eyes as she tried to picture what life would
be without her own dearest “mummie.”
When the house was reached Carol went directly to the living-room and
throwing her arms about her mother, she clung to her as though she would
never let her go again.
“What is it, darling?” Mrs. Lorens asked as she pressed her cheek
against the tear-wet face of her daughter.
Then Carol told all about Evelyn. “Oh Mummie, Mummie,” she implored,
“promise that you will never, never leave us.”
“Tut, tut, daughter of mine!” her mother replied brightly. “As Grandpa
Lorens used to say, ‘Don’t let’s worry about a thing until it has
happened, and even then, worrying doesn’t help any.’ Hark! The clock is
striking five and supper not begun. Call Dorothy and David, and tell
them that it is time to set the table.”
Carol obeyed and she laughed and chattered with the twins while they all
helped their mother prepare the evening meal, but, in spite of her
assumed cheerfulness, she could not forget poor lonely Evelyn Dartmoor.
How she hoped that some day she would meet her.
Surprising things happen, and before that week was over, Carol had met
Evelyn in a way that brought great happiness into both of their lives.
CHAPTER THREE
TWO SURPRISES
Meanwhile Mr. Dartmoor had returned to his study thinking of the three
children who had just departed. “A merry brood!” he said aloud, but his
smile faded when he looked at the painting of his granddaughter. “Poor
Evelyn!” he thought, “I wish that I knew how to make you happy.”
Then sitting at his desk, he picked up his morning mail and found on top
a letter from his granddaughter.
Opening it, he read,
“Dearest Granddad:
“I am so lonely, so lonely! Won’t you please let me come
back to you? There is no one here who can understand. I
watch the girls laughing and playing games, but I do not
think that I shall ever be able to join them again. I would
not mind so much if only they would leave me alone, but
Madame Deriby insists that I have a roommate, and there is
no one I want to have room with me. Oh, Granddad! What shall
I do? Must I stay?
“Your unhappy granddaughter,
“Evelyn.”
“My poor little lassie!” Mr. Dartmoor said as he sat with the letter
open in his hand and looked up at the painting. “But Madame Deriby is
right! Evelyn _should_ have a companion, some one bright and cheery,
yet, some one who could understand.”
At that very moment Mr. Dartmoor saw, in his memory, Carol’s sweet face,
and the tears brimming her eyes, as she said, “I did _so_ want to go to
boarding-school myself, but I would far rather have my mother.”
“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr. Dartmoor aloud as he rang a bell and
ordered his carriage. Soon he was being driven down the country road
toward the brown house on the edge of the village.
David upon hearing the wheels in the drive ran to a front room window
where he could get a better view. Dorothy skipped to join him and then
she called excitedly, “Carol, look quick! Here is your ogre coming to
pay you a visit.”
“He isn’t an ogre, so now!” David protested. “He’s Santa Claus!” Just at
that moment Mr. Lorens entered the dining-room. “What are the twins so
excited about?” he inquired.
“They say that Mr. Dartmoor is coming up the drive,” Carol replied.
“You delivered the papers, did you not, daughter?” her father asked
anxiously.
“Yes, Dad, I gave them to Mr. Dartmoor himself.”
Just then the bell rang, and Mr. Lorens, hoping that nothing had been
wrong with the legal document which he had prepared with great care,
went to open the door.
When greetings had been exchanged, Mr. Dartmoor asked if he might speak
for one moment with Mr. and Mrs. Lorens.
Wondering what the conference was to be about, Mr. Lorens called his
wife, and together they went into a small room which Peter had named his
“Den.”
Carol, like the good little housekeeper that she was, finished cooking
the supper and placed it in the warming-oven to wait the reappearance of
her parents.
The twins, in the outer hall, watched the closed door curiously and
tried to guess what their Santa Claus was talking about.
At last, to their great relief, the door opened and their mother
beckoned to them. David darted in ahead of the others, but no one
reproved his forgotten manners, instead, their parents were smiling as
though some great good fortune had befallen them.
“Carol,” Mrs. Lorens exclaimed, taking her daughter’s hand, “what do you
suppose that Mr. Dartmoor has been telling us?”
“Something nice, I am sure,” that girl replied, “for you and Dad look so
happy.”
“I hope that you will think that it is nice,” the old gentleman said
kindly. “Carol, I want you to go to Linden Hall Seminary to be a
roommate and companion for my granddaughter Evelyn. Will you go?”
“Oh, Mr. Dartmoor!” the girl exclaimed joyfully. “How I would love to go
if Mother could spare me, but who would help her around the house?”
“I would!” cried little Dorothy clapping her hands. “Mother said that I
might be her helper some day, and _this_ is some day, isn’t it, Mummie?”
Mrs. Lorens smiled brightly. It was hard for her to speak, her heart was
so full. The advantages which she had so wished her daughter to have
were to come in a beautiful way, for Carol was to give much in exchange.
“Then it is all settled, and I am truly grateful to your father and
mother for permitting you to go. It will mean more than I can tell you
to my lonely granddaughter.”
Then, before the girl could express the gratitude and joy which she
felt, Mr. Dartmoor was gone.
The next afternoon when the Sunny Seven trooped out of their school,
they found Carol Lorens waiting for them under the elm-tree.
Her eyes were glowing like two stars and Adele, catching her hand, said:
“Why, Carol, what good news have you to tell us? Have you found out
where you are to go to school?”
Carol nodded. “That’s why I came to-day,” she said, “because I can’t be
here to-morrow to attend the meeting of the Sunnyside Club.”
Betty Burd clapped her hands gleefully as she cried, “Oh, I can guess
where you are going. To a girls’ boarding-school somewhere.”
“Right you are!” Carol replied, looking brightly around at the eager
group, and then she told them all the wonderful things that had happened
since she had last seen them.
“You will love Evelyn Dartmoor!” Doris Drexel exclaimed. “I met her when
she and her mother spent a few days here last spring.”
“Oh, I just know that I shall love her!” Carol replied, and then she
added impulsively, “Girls, you have all been so good to me! You can’t
guess what it means to a stranger to be treated so kindly. I expected to
be lonely and left out and you have been just like old friends. How I do
wish that you were going to boarding-school with me.”
“Queer things happen!” Adele replied. “Maybe your wish will come true.”
Adele spoke jokingly, for little did she dream that queer things were to
happen, and soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
NEW FACES AND NEW PLACES
Carol awoke bright and early the next morning and her first thought was
that something wonderful was about to happen. Then she remembered that
she was going away to boarding-school. Springing up, she began to dress.
“Just think,” she said to her reflection in the mirror, “this is the
last time that you will look out of this glass in ever and ever so
long.” Then she added after a thoughtful moment, “Carol Lorens, you
don’t seem very happy. Aren’t you glad that you are going?”
“Good-morning, darling!” a sweet voice called from the doorway and
whirling around, Carol nestled in her mother’s arms as she exclaimed,
“Oh, Mummie, Mummie! I don’t believe that I want to go and leave you
after all.”
“Of course we will both be lonely, daughter dear,” her mother said
brightly, “but you are not going far away and I want you to bring Evelyn
home to us for at least part of the holidays. Moreover I shall expect
long, newsy letters from my big girl telling me that she is making the
most of the wonderful advantages that have been given her. Now, dear,
make haste! The train leaves at nine and Father and Peter are waiting to
have breakfast with you.”
Then followed a very exciting half-hour. There was much laughter and
bantering, and a few tears that would come. Peter gave Carol many a
nonsensical piece of advice, for had he not been away to college?
Later, the father, alone with her for one moment, took both of her hands
in his as he said, “Daughter, when a problem confronts you, ask
yourself, ‘What would my mother do?’ and then do likewise.”
He held her close in his strong arms, and then walked rapidly away to
join Peter who was waiting at the gate.
The baggage men arrived to take her trunk, and then, before she had time
to turn around, there arose a joyous shouting out on the lawn. “Carol!
Carol!” the twins were calling. “Here comes Mr. Dartmoor’s carriage.
It’s time for you to go.”
Carol wondered afterwards how she had managed to say good-bye to her
mother and the twins without crying, but little mother had been so brave
and smiling that she had smiled too, and then, as they drove away, the
courtly Mr. Dartmoor began talking of Evelyn and before long they had
reached the station and there were the members of the Sunnyside Club
gathered to bid her good-bye.
Carol had just time to introduce them to the old gentleman, when the
train came puffing around the curve.
“Do write to us the very first moment that you have to spare,” Adele
called. “You just can’t guess how we are all envying you because you are
going away to boarding-school.”
“I promise!” Carol replied and she smilingly waved through an open
window as long as she could see her friends.
The two hours to Buffalo passed quickly and then there was another hour
on a noisy little local train, but Carol was so interested in all she
saw that the time passed quickly, and it hardly seemed possible that
they could have reached the end of their journey when she heard the
brakeman call, “Linden!”
Her heart beat rapidly. In another moment she would see the beautiful
Evelyn. How she did hope that they were to be good friends.
They two were the only passengers to alight at the station of Linden,
and at once Carol saw a tall, slender girl in black, who came hurrying
forward. With a little cry of joy, she threw her arms about Mr.
Dartmoor’s neck, and for a moment neither spoke.
“Oh, Granddad!” Evelyn said at last. “How lonely, lonely I have been
since I saw you!”
“Well, we’re here now,” Mr. Dartmoor exclaimed brightly, “and this is my
little friend Carol Lorens.”
Evelyn held out her hand to the other girl as she said, “I am so glad
that you have come. Having a friend of Granddad’s here will be almost
like having Granddad himself.”
“I am glad, too,” Carol replied simply. On the train Mr. Dartmoor had
asked her not to tell Evelyn at present how she happened to come to
Linden.
The school bus was waiting, and Mr. Dartmoor gallantly helped the girls
in and sat opposite them. Then to entertain them on the drive, he told
them that Carol’s grandfather and he had been “pals” when they were
boys.
“Then it is but natural that you and I should be friends,” Evelyn
declared.
Suddenly Carol gave an exclamation of pleasure. They had been slowly
climbing a hill road, and below them was the scattered village of Linden
and wide meadows that stretched to the lake. Soon they were turning into
an elm-shaded driveway. On either side were well-kept lawns and gardens
aglow with autumn flowers.
Set far back among sheltering trees was a rambling building, which in
the front looked like a pillared colonial mansion.
“This is Linden Hall!” Evelyn said brightly. “Isn’t it a beautiful
place?” Mr. Dartmoor noted with a glad heart that already his
granddaughter looked happier.
“Oh!” Carol exclaimed, clasping her hands. “I could learn anything here,
I am sure. Even Chinese if I had to!”
“Luckily we do not have to,” Evelyn responded almost merrily. “I am sure
that I could not learn foreign languages if the school were in the
Garden of Eden.”
For several moments they rode beneath a canopy formed by the interlacing
branches of the great old elms. At last the bus stopped under a covered
archway at the front of the house.
Carol felt awed as she followed Evelyn up the stone steps and through
the door, which she knew would be for her the portal to many new and
wonderful experiences.
CHAPTER FIVE
A LETTER FROM CAROL
Three days after the departure of Carol Lorens for Linden, Adele Doring
received a letter bearing that postmark.
“O goodie!” she cried, in little-girl fashion. “Thank you, Mr. Drakely.
I have been ever so eager to receive this letter.”
The postman smiled down at her and was surprised to see her thrust the
envelope, unopened, into the pocket of her rose-colored sweater coat.
“Why, Adele, aren’t you going to read it?” the mail-carrier, who had
known her from babyhood, asked. “I thought you were so anxious to get
it.”
“I suppose it does look queer,” Adele laughingly replied, “but I’m on my
way to school, you see, and I don’t want to read it until we girls are
all together. It’s for them as much as it is for me.”
Then away she skipped, and, as usual, she found the Sunny Six waiting
for her under the elm-tree.
“It’s come!” she cried, joyfully waving the letter over her head.
“Oh, good! Is it a letter from Carol Lorens?” Betty Burd inquired.
“I’m glad that we are all early,” Doris Drexel declared. “Let’s sit down
on the bench while Adele reads it to us.”
The envelope was torn open and Adele began:
“Dear Sunnysiders: I am having the most wonderful
experiences one right after another, and how I do wish that
you were here to share them with me. I’m going to keep
a-wishing and A-WISHING until you do come; so you might as
well begin to pack your satchels.
“This is the most beautiful old house, with wings added for
dormitories when it became a school. There is a glorious
view from every window, but I am not going to tell you about
that. I am so very sure that you will all see it with your
own eyes some day soon.
“Well, to begin at the beginning, when we arrived, Evelyn
took me to the office of the nicest woman—next to
Mother—whom I have ever met. Madame Deriby is tall and
stately with soft, silvery hair, a beautiful face and the
kindest, gentlest manner imaginable. I knew at once that I
was going to adore her, and oh, girls, Evelyn is so nice, I
am sure that you will all love her.
“The room that we are to have together is the prettiest. It
is decorated in yellow and looks as though it were flooded
with sunlight, even when it is cloudy. There are two small
beds and Evelyn has her things on one side of the room and I
have mine on the other.
“I haven’t met any of the other pupils as yet, but there are
forty of all ages, Evelyn tells me.
“The ‘get-ready-for-dinner’ bell has just rung, so I will
say good-bye for now. I’ll write to you often, but oh,
girls, do beg and beseech your nice mothers to let you come
to Linden Hall boarding-school soon.
“Your newest Sunnysider,
“Carol Lorens.”
“How I do wish that we could go!” Doris Drexel sighed. “It must be a
wonderful place, so high on a hill.”
“I couldn’t go if the rest of you did,” Betty Burd declared, “and I’d be
so lonely with all of you away.”
Adele slipped an arm about the little girl as she said merrily, “But
Bettykins, we aren’t any of us going. Mother wishes me to finish out
this term with Miss Donovan. There’s the last bell. Forward! March!”
Little did the girls dream of the unexpected news that they were about
to hear.
When they entered the schoolhouse, they were surprised to find the door
of the eighth grade closed and locked. On it a note was pinned, which
Adele wonderingly read aloud:
“_Pupils of 8A please report at Mr. Dickerson’s office._”
The girls looked at each other in amazement. Surely something must have
happened to their beloved Miss Donovan. They found the principal in his
office looking very grave. He smiled when he saw their solemn, almost
frightened faces.
“Young ladies,” he said, “it is not so dreadful as all that, though I
must confess I am very much troubled to know just what I ought to do.”
Then he explained that Miss Donovan had been called to her home in a
neighboring town and that she had wired back that her elderly mother
needed her care, and therefore would be unable to return that term.
The girls were truly grieved to hear this, and impulsive Betty Burd
exclaimed, “Why, Mr. Dickerson, how _can_ we get on without Miss
Donovan?”
“We will not decide yet,” the principal said kindly. “I have sent to the
city to see if another competent eighth-grade teacher can be procured,
but it is late, and the classes everywhere are started. However, it is
possible that one may be found. Report here to-morrow morning and I
shall then be able to tell you what we will do.”
The next morning at nine the girls were again waiting in Mr. Dickerson’s
office, and a few moments later he appeared.
“Well, young ladies,” he said, “I have been unsuccessful, and so the
Board has suggested that you go to Dorchester to finish this term’s
work. You would have to go there next term, anyway, so perhaps that is
the best solution of our difficulty.”
As soon as the girls were again under the elm-tree, Adele faced them
with glowing eyes. “Of course I am very sorry to lose our Miss Donovan,”
she said. “We all love her dearly, but since we can’t have her, I am
really glad that everything turned out just as it has, because, instead
of going to Dorchester, perhaps we may all be able to go—guess where?”
“To the Linden Hall boarding-school!” Rosamond Wright joyfully
responded.
“Oh, how I do wish that we could!” Peggy Pierce exclaimed.
“Let’s go home this very minute and ask our fathers and mothers if we
may go,” Adele suggested, “and then this afternoon, let’s meet at our
Secret Sanctum and discuss our plans.”
That afternoon at three, the seven maidens met at the log cabin in the
meadows that were now purple and gold with bright autumn flowers.
“Girls, let’s begin this meeting at once,” Adele exclaimed. “We’re all
here, and I’m just wild to tell you my great and glorious news.”
“Meeting is called to order,” said Bertha Angel, who was now the
chairman, and so the girls sat tailor-wise upon the floor.
“Madame President,” Bertha began, but Adele interrupted, “Oh, Burdie,
don’t let’s be formal to-day. Let’s each say just whatever we wish. I am
wild to know who can go to boarding-school besides myself.”
“I, for one!” Rosamond Wright drawled. “My mamma dear will be glad to be
rid of me, I am sure.”
“Father thinks that it will be an excellent plan for me to go if there
is a college preparatory course at Linden Hall,” Bertha Angel told them
quite calmly. The practical Bertha was never wildly hilarious, whatever
happened.
“That’s splendid,” Adele exclaimed joyfully, “and I know by her beaming
expression that Peggy Pierce can go, and as for Doris Drexel, her
devoted daddy always lets her do whatever she wishes. How about you,
Bettykins?” she asked, turning to the youngest member, who was looking
so dismal that they all knew at once that she could not go.
“I told Mother about it,” Betty began, “and she said that she was sorry,
but she couldn’t think of asking Uncle George to spend another penny for
me. You know when Papa died, Uncle George asked us to come right up here
and live with him, and Mother says that it costs him ever so much to
have us. Of course I’d love to go, but I—I just can’t.”
Poor little Betty found the disappointment harder than she could bear
bravely, and tears splashed down her cheeks.
“You won’t be left alone, Bettykins,” Gertrude Willis said as she
slipped an arm about their youngest member, “for I am not going,
either.”
“Gertrude, aren’t you going?” came a chorus of protesting voices.
“Well, we simply can’t go without _you_, or Bettykins either,” Doris
Drexel declared.
“Yes, you can,” Gertrude replied brightly, “and Betty and I shall expect
long letters from you every week telling all about the good times that
you are having.”
“But what will _you_ do, Trudie, about going to school?” Bertha
inquired. These two girls were always at the head of their classes and
Bertha well knew that her friend did not want to have her studies
interrupted.
“Father is going to teach me some of the subjects and Mother the
others,” Gertrude replied. “Mother was a high school teacher before she
married, and Father was graduated from the theological seminary with
highest honors.”
Then, turning to the little one who was trying hard not to cry, she said
kindly, “Bettykins, you may study with me, if you wish.”
“Oh, Gertrude, that would help me so much!” Betty replied gratefully,
smiling through the tears that would come.
“Girls,” Adele declared brightly, “‘My bones are very good prophets,’ as
Grandpa Dally used to say, and I just feel sure that before very many
moons, we shall all seven of us be at Linden Hall Seminary for Young
Ladies.”
Whether or no Adele was a true prophet, you shall hear.
CHAPTER SIX
BETTY’S UNCLE GEORGE
The next day Adele wrote a long letter to Carol Lorens telling her the
good news that five of the Sunny Seven were to attend the Linden Hall
boarding-school, that is, if there would be room for them. Mrs. Doring
had written to Madame Deriby to inquire, and eagerly the five girls
awaited an answering letter.
Meanwhile little Betty Burd was trying to be brave, but it was very
hard. The day after the meeting at the Secret Sanctum, she went for a
long ride on her pony, and, with tears slipping down her cheeks, she
scolded herself: “You just ought to be ashamed, Betty Burd, when you
have _so much_ to be thankful for,” she said aloud as she rode through a
little wood, where everything was peaceful and quiet, save now and then
a rustle in the dry leaves when a squirrel darted across the path. “I’m
not going to cry another tear!” she continued, as she whirled her pony’s
head toward home. “Uncle George has done so much for me, and I don’t
want him to even _guess_ how I have longed to go to boarding-school with
the other girls.”
As she turned in at the drive, Mr. Drexel’s car stopped a moment at the
gate and her Uncle George leaped out. Betty was about to ride on, but he
beckoned to her. “How’s my little Puss?” he called, pretending not to
notice the reddened eyes.
“Oh, I’m all right, thank you, Uncle George,” the girl replied, trying
to smile brightly, then, fearing that she would cry, she whirled her
pony about and galloped to the barn, but her young Uncle George followed
her.
He stabled the pony and then leading her to a garden bench, he exclaimed
gaily, “Betty Bobbets, what’s this I hear about you going away to
boarding-school?”
“Me?” gasped Betty in surprise. “Why, Uncle George, I’m not going at
all. It’s just the other girls who are going. Mamma says that you have
done so much for us already that she couldn’t think of asking you to
send me. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, Uncle George, how did
you know?”
The young man laughed. “Why, Puss,” he replied, “you don’t suppose that
you could keep a secret from your old uncle, do you? But the way that I
found out was that Mr. Drexel just now told me that Doris was going away
to boarding-school and he said that he supposed that I was going to send
Betty, and I said, ‘Sure thing, if the other girls are going.’”
“Oh, Uncle George!” Betty cried, scarcely able to believe what she had
heard. “Really, truly, are you going to send me? Won’t it take a lot of
money? Mother says that we cost you ever so much as it is.”
Taking both of her small hands in his, the young man replied earnestly,
“Pet, your father was my older brother and he went without many things
that he might send me away to college, and now that I am a prosperous
editor, do you suppose that for one minute I am going to neglect the
education of his only little girl, and _my_ only little girl, too?
Indeed I am not, and from now on I want you to think of me as though I
were your own daddy. I will give you an allowance, but, if you need more
money, promise me that you will write and ask for it.”
“Dear Uncle George,” Betty said as she looked up with a joyous light
shining through the tears that would come, “how can I thank you?” Then,
impulsively she threw her arms about his neck and gave him a bear hug.
The other girls were glad to hear that their youngest member could go,
if they did, but as yet they had not received a letter from the matron
of Linden Hall.
The following afternoon the seven girls met at Adele’s to review some of
their studies. Of course it had been the practical Bertha’s suggestion.
“We don’t want to get behind,” she told them, “even if we are going to a
boarding-school.”
“Girls,” Rosamond Wright declared, “I have my trunk almost packed and
I’ll be ready to take the train the moment that Madame Deriby writes,
‘Come.’”
“But what if she writes, ‘Don’t come’?” Peggy Pierce inquired
mischievously.
“Then I’ll unpack it again,” Rosamond declared quite undisturbed by the
teasing, “but there isn’t much danger of the matron’s telling us not to
come,” she added. “Why, we six girls will be a small fortune to her and
she will take us even if she has to build an addition to the school.”
“_Hurray!_ Here comes the postman,” Betty Burd exclaimed joyously.
“Adele, what if he has the fatal letter?”
“Then I suppose that he will give it to me,” Adele replied merrily, as
she went to the gate to meet Mr. Drakely. Then, turning around, with
eyes shining, she triumphantly waved a white envelope. “Here it is,” she
called to the eager group on the lawn, “but it is addressed to Mumsie,
and she is down-town shopping and so we shall have to wait until she
returns.”
“Oh-h-h!” came in doleful chorus.
“How can we wait?” Betty Burd moaned.
“It won’t be long, methinks,” Adele exclaimed, “for unless I am
mistaken, I hear Mother’s step just beyond the lilacs.”
In another moment that gracious lady appeared and the girls swooped down
upon her.
“Well! well!” Mrs. Doring exclaimed gaily. “Why am I so popular?”
“Oh, Mumsie,” Adele declared lovingly, “you know that you are _always_
popular, but just now we want you to open this letter from Madame Deriby
and tell us if we may go to the Linden Hall boarding-school.”
They led Mrs. Doring to a rustic bench and then crowded about her while
she read aloud:
“My dear Mrs. Doring:
“Your letter of recent date was received and I am pleased to
inform you that I have ample accommodations for the five
young ladies.”
“Oh!” wailed Betty Burd. “That’s not counting me in.”
“Shh! Don’t interrupt,” some one whispered, and Mrs. Doring continued:
“In fact I have room for eight more girls, as a very
pleasant wing has just been completed. There are four double
rooms, light and airy, overlooking the gardens and the
orchard.
“If they prefer, the young ladies may have their uniforms
made here at Linden. Since the fall term is already started,
it would be better for them to come without delay.
“If this is convenient for you, please wire and I will have
the school bus at the station to meet the young ladies next
Saturday at four in the afternoon.”
“There!” Rosamond announced. “See how wise I was to begin packing my
trunk!”
“We will go to our homes this instant and pack ours,” Peggy Pierce
declared, for the next day would be Saturday.
“Gertrude,” Adele said when the other girls were gone, “I would be
perfectly happy if only you were going with us.”
“I, too, wish that I might go, Della,” Gertrude said, returning her
friend’s embrace, “but a minister’s salary is not princely, and there
are so many of us. It won’t be long till Christmas, however, and then
you and I will meet again.”
But they were to meet much sooner than that, and in a way they little
dreamed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DEPARTURE FOR BOARDING-SCHOOL
Never before had there been a gayer scene at the railway station in that
usually quiet town of Sunnyside, for the relatives and friends of the
six travelers were all there to bid them good-bye.
“Wall, I swan!” ejaculated the old station-master as he appeared from
the baggage-room. “Has the hull population of this here village decided
to migrate to Buffalo?”
“Oh, no, Uncle Danny,” Adele replied, shouting in his ear, for the old
man, whom every one called Uncle Danny, was very deaf. “Just six of us
are going away to boarding-school.”
“Wall, now, you don’t tell! Sorry to hear you’re a-leavin’ us, Della.
Even cloudy weather seems a little brighter when _you’re_ around.”
That was just what Granny Dorset had said when Adele had rushed over to
the little cottage in Cherry Lane that morning to bid her good-bye.
“Don’t study too hard,” Jack Doring called. “We boys would hate to have
you get ahead of us.”
“If you have any parties up at your school, send us an invitation,” Bob
Angel added.
“Oh, Bob!” Rosamond Wright gaily replied. “You know that you wouldn’t
come all the way to a suburb of Buffalo just to attend a boarding-school
party.”
“Slippery snails!” Jack suddenly exclaimed. “Dick Jensen, did you forget
the order you received last night?”
Dick, a good-looking boy of fifteen, snapped his fingers and whirling on
his heels, he ran to his car and returned with a big covered box, out of
which he took seven smaller boxes daintily tied with blue and gold
ribbons. Presenting one to each of the girls, Dick exclaimed
dramatically: “From the unsurpassable Jensen candy shop, gift of the
Jolly Pirates to the seven sweetest girls in all the world.”
“Oh, thank you, boys!” Adele cried with glowing eyes. “We will think of
you every time that we eat one of these delicious candies.”
“You won’t think of us for long then,” Bob teased, “not if you all eat
candy as fast as Rosie does.”
“Here comes the train that is to carry our fair ones away!” Jack
shouted. Then, what a scurrying there was. The boys seized satchels and
suit-cases and the girls threw their arms around their mothers and
fathers for a last embrace, in the excitement of the moment not
realizing how much they were going to miss them later. Then the boys
escorted them into the train, found their seats, piled their luggage in
the racks overhead, and Bob teasingly told them to be sure to get off
when they reached their destination. The train started, and the boys
made a wild rush for the door and swung to the platform just in time to
keep from being borne away.
Adele looked out of the window at her mother, who stood with her arm
about Gertrude’s waist. The tears rushed to her eyes. It was hard to
leave these two who were so dear to her, but it would not be long before
the Christmas holidays, and then they would all be together again.
Blinking back the tears, she turned with her bright smile toward the
merry girls who were chatting and laughing all together.
“I do hope we are going to have some interesting adventures at Linden
Hall,” Rosamond was saying.
They were to have many adventures and the first one began the very next
day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
APPLE-BLOSSOM ALLEY
That Saturday afternoon Carol Lorens and Evelyn Dartmoor were sauntering
arm in arm through the garden paths on the south side of the Linden Hall
boarding-school, little dreaming of the delightful something which was
just about to happen.
Soon a small girl appeared running toward them, calling, “Carol Lorens,
here is a letter for you. Madame Deriby asked me to give it to you at
once because there is something interesting in it.”
At Linden Hall, as at many other boarding-schools, the matron glanced
over each letter which the girls received.
“Oh, I wonder what the exciting news can be,” Carol said as she went
forward to take the letter from the wee lassie. “Thank you, little
Anne,” she added. Then, when the small girl had skipped away to rejoin
her playmates, Carol exclaimed, “Evelyn, there is just one thing that I
wish this letter might contain.”
The older girl smiled. Since Carol’s coming to the school, Evelyn had
learned to smile again. “Suppose you read it,” she wisely suggested,
“and then you will know what it is about.”
“Let’s sit here on this bench and I’ll read it to you,” Carol declared.
When they were seated, she opened the missive and turned at once to the
end to see who it was from.
“Oh, good!” she said. “Just as I wished, it is from Adele Doring. Now
I’ll begin at the beginning:
“‘Dear Carol: We have the best news to tell you. We girls
are coming to Linden Hall and expect to arrive on Saturday
afternoon at about four o’clock.
“‘We are all coming except Gertrude Willis, but I feel in my
bones that something will happen to bring her, too, some day
soon. I won’t write any more, for we shall reach Linden
almost as soon as this letter.