the little girl said.
Bertha laughed gaily.
“No, Bettykins,” she replied, “your guess is all wrong, but I did tell
Madame Deriby that I would like to take Latin and French.”
“Oh-h!” moaned the child dismally, “and I suppose now she will expect us
all to want to be as wise as you are.”
But Betty said no more, for the office door was opening and her own name
was being called. With a wild look at Adele she disappeared, to return
in a very few moments, her pretty face dimpled with smiles.
“Oh! Madame Deriby is a perfect dear!” she exclaimed. “I’ll never be
scared of her again. I just know that I am going to adore her!”
Last of all it was Adele’s turn, and when she came out of the office,
her eyes were shining like stars.
“Oh, girls!” she said, “something wonderful has happened! Come up to our
room as quickly as ever you can and I will tell you all about it!”
Much mystified, the girls trooped after their favorite and when they
reached their sun-flooded Apple-Blossom Alley, they clamored, “Della, do
tell us what it is. You look as though something ever so nice was just
about to happen.”
“See if you can guess!” that maiden exclaimed. “It’s the one thing that
I’ve been wishing and _wishing_ for the very most of all.”
“Oh, then it will not be hard to guess,” Betty Burd declared. “It must
be that Gertrude Willis is coming to Linden Hall.”
Adele nodded brightly. “Sit down, everybody, and I’ll tell you all about
it.”
Down on the floor they sat in a semicircle. They found this better for
confidences than being scattered about the room on chairs.
“Well,” Adele began, “I was in Madame Deriby’s office and in answer to
her question, I had just told her that I liked literature best of all,
when there came a knock on the door and Miss Berry, the kindergarten
teacher, came in and her eyes were red and swollen. She held an open
letter. Madame Deriby stood up and put an arm about her. Miss Berry, you
know, is hardly more than a girl herself. They had both forgotten about
me, and I was wondering if I ought to leave the room when the teacher
said that her little brother was ill, and cried for her day and night,
and she did so want to go to him.
“‘Of course you must go!’ Madame Deriby said kindly. ‘Ask Marie to help
you pack and I will have Patrick bring around the bus. You ought to be
able to catch the afternoon train.’
“When Miss Berry was gone, Madame Deriby telephoned to the stables and
then she sat down and looked thoughtful for a moment. At last, turning
to me with a smile, she said, ‘Adele, I was just wishing that I knew
some real nice older girl who would like to come to Linden Hall and help
teach the very little ones in exchange for her tuition.’
“Girls, when I heard that I almost cried out in delight. However, I
tried to hide my joy and I said as quietly as I could, ‘Madame Deriby, I
know just such a girl and I am sure that you would like to have her.’
Then I told her all about our darling Trudie. Madame Deriby was ever so
pleased and she told me to write and ask if Gertrude can come next
Saturday, and since that will be day after to-morrow, I must pen the
epistle at once,” she ended, springing up and skipping to her desk.
Then, when the letter had been mailed, the girls from Sunnyside waited
in almost breathless eagerness to know whether or not their dear friend
could join them at Linden Hall.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE NEW TEACHER
Great was the excitement in Apple-Blossom Alley on Saturday morning.
Adele was up before the rising bell and as soon as she was dressed, she
tapped on each of the neighboring doors calling, “Wake up! Maybe
Gertrude is coming to-day.”
“I am so glad that it is Saturday,” Betty Burd declared. “Perhaps Madame
Deriby will allow us all to go to the station to meet Trudie, and won’t
we hug her though?”
“But we are not sure that she is coming,” Bertha Angel said.
“I’m sure!” Adele declared. “Oh, good, there’s the breakfast bell and
now maybe we shall hear something about it.”
Just as the eight girls were tripping down the wide front stairs, a
telephone rang in Madame Deriby’s office. Marie, a maid, appeared from
the library to answer it, but a second later she came out and beckoned
to Adele. “Please, Miss, will you answer the phone? It’s long-distance
and I’m not good at hearing,” she said.
With a rapidly beating heart, the girl took up the receiver.
“Is this the Linden Hall boarding-school?” a faint voice inquired.
“Yes it is,” Adele replied.
“This is Mr. Willis and I wish to say that my daughter, Gertrude, is
leaving on the early morning train and will reach Linden at two o’clock
this afternoon.”
“O goodie! Mr. Willis, I’m so glad! This is Adele. Tell Trudie the bus
will be at the station to meet her. Good-bye.”
Adele turned around with shining eyes and found Madame Deriby smiling
down at her.
“So your friend can come,” she said kindly. “I am very glad. Would you
girls like to ride down in the bus to meet the train?”
“Thank you! We would just love to!” Adele declared.
The other pupils were already gathered in the dining-room when this
group entered and they wondered at the eight shining faces.
“Something must have happened to please those girls from Sunnyside,” one
of the seniors remarked. And something surely had.
“Adele,” Peggy Pierce exclaimed, when they were once again in
Apple-Blossom Alley, “where is Gertrude to sleep? All of the beds on
this corridor are occupied.”
“Perhaps I would better go back to my old room,” Evelyn Dartmoor
suggested.
“No, indeed,” Adele declared. “Betty, if Madame Deriby is willing, don’t
you think that we could have another single bed in here for Gertrude?”
“Oh, Della, I’d love to have her with us,” the little one cried clapping
her hands gleefully.
“Then I will go at once and ask for permission,” Adele said. Madame
Deriby had planned giving Miss Berry’s pretty room to Gertrude for the
time being, but when she realized how much it meant to the girls from
Sunnyside to have their friend with them, she smilingly consented, and
soon thereafter Patrick appeared with another single bed and it was
found that there was plenty of room to place the three in a row.
Evelyn, who had slipped away, reappeared carrying a bowl of beautiful
roses.
“Girls,” she said, “I want to put these flowers that Grandpa sent me on
the little table by Gertrude’s bed.”
“Oh, Evelyn, how nice!” Adele exclaimed. “I am sure that Trudie will
like her corner.”
During the morning hours, the girls went about their tasks with happy
hearts and when one would pass another, she would joyfully exclaim,
“Gertrude’s coming to-day!”
At last one-thirty arrived and also Patrick and the school bus, into
which the eight girls from Apple-Blossom Alley climbed, then, down the
elm-arched drive the two spirited white horses trotted at a brisk pace.
It was five minutes to two when the bus drew up at the station, but no
one was in sight. Fifteen minutes passed, and the train did not appear.
“It must be late,” Adele said. “I’m going to hunt for the station-master
and inquire.” She found him asleep in the warm waiting-room.
“Mr. Station-Master,” Adele said clearly, “will you kindly tell me why
the two o’clock train is late?”
The grey-bearded man sat up with a start. “Wall, is that so?” he
exclaimed. “Sure enough, it must be late, but that’s nothin’ unusual.
It’s a short line and the train sort of comes and goes to suit itself.
Nothin’ could happen to it unless it ran off the track. It couldn’t bump
into anything, for it’s the only train between here and Buffalo.”
Just then the telephone rang and the old station-master limped to get
the message. “Wall, now, you don’t say!” he exclaimed in surprise to the
person at the other end of the line. “That there train has done queer
things in its time, but this sure is the queerest.”
“It isn’t wrecked, is it?” Adele asked anxiously.
“Nope, not exactly, so to speak,” the old man replied, “but the switch
didn’t work right about half a mile from here, and the train went off on
a siding and there she’s stuck.”
“Oh, poor Gertrude, all alone off on a siding,” Adele exclaimed, then
she added, “But, Patrick, if it’s only half a mile from here, can’t we
go over and get her?”
“Climb roight in,” the Irishman called, “and hold toight, for I’m goin’
to do some fast drivin’.”
The spirited horses, being urged by Patrick’s shouts and the snapping of
the long whip, went on a gallop, and before long they saw a short train,
from which Gertrude laughingly emerged to greet them.
“You poor darling!” Adele said when they had all hugged her. “This is
not a very ‘propitious beginning’ as Bob says.”
“I didn’t mind it at all,” Gertrude told them, and then, as the bus
started on its schoolward way, she added with eyes shining, “Oh, girls,
I am so glad, so very, very glad that I am with you at last. I just know
that we are going to have the happiest times together.”
Gertrude little dreamed that she was soon to meet some one in the
neighborhood of Linden who eventually would bring even greater joy into
her life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ORPHAN ALISE
Madame Deriby had been charmed with her youngest teacher, and on Monday
Gertrude took Miss Berry’s place and smiled lovingly down into the
uplifted faces of her ten pupils whose ages ranged from five to seven.
Before the hour was over the tots loved her and when at last the bell of
dismissal rang, they crowded about her, and seated in the low rocker she
held many of them in her arms and told them of the pleasant times they
were to have all together.
One, a golden-haired little girl of six, stood back holding her dolly
close and watching the merry group with wistful brown eyes. Then a
kindly faced woman in cap and apron came to take the little ones to the
nursery, but this child did not go.
Believing that she was alone Gertrude sat for a moment looking out of
the window and thinking of the brothers and sisters at home, perhaps
just a bit lonely, when she felt a small hand touching her timidly.
Looking down, she beheld the sweet face of little Alise gazing up at
her.
“Miss Gertrude,” she asked, “will you please let me love you? I’m not
anybody’s little girl now.”
Lifting the child to her lap, the young teacher held her close as she
murmured tenderly, “Dear, darling little Alise. I know how lonely you
must be and indeed I do want you to love me. I was just thinking of my
sister Ruth at home and feeling a bit lonely for her. I’ll tell you
what,” she added brightly, “you be little sister to me and I’ll be big
sister to you. Won’t that be nice?”
The child’s eyes were shining happily, when the nurse reappeared, having
realized that Alise must have been left behind. When they were gone
Adele came and found Gertrude still seated in the low chair and deep in
thought. Sitting on a stool beside her she asked, “What is it, Trudie?
Is something troubling you?”
Gertrude put her hand lovingly on her friend’s shoulder as she replied,
“Yes, Della, in a way. I was just wondering why some of us have so much
love in our lives and others so little. You and I have so many home
folks to care for us and here is Alise, scarcely more than a baby,
starting to grow up into girlhood with no one to love her. Madame Deriby
was telling me about her only this morning. It seems that her mother,
who was a beautiful girl, married against a stern father’s wishes and he
never forgave her, and when she died, he even refused to see her child.
Instead, he had his lawyer bring her here to Linden Hall. Even Madame
Deriby does not know who the grandfather is nor where he lives. Now,
isn’t that sad? The child will be immensely rich some day, the lawyer
said, but oh, Della, money can never take the place of home love.”
Then rising, she added brightly, “Well, Alise is going to have some one
to love her, and that some one is her new teacher. Adele, isn’t it queer
about these hearts of ours? We think that they are bulging full of love,
but, when the need arises, they can always make room for just one more.”
These two girls, as they sauntered toward the tennis-courts, arm in arm,
little dreamed that Alise was to bring a wonderful happiness to one of
them.
The following Saturday, the equestrian class with Mr. Haley, their
riding-master, started out for a canter. The road which they followed
led between wide meadows, some purple and gold with autumn flowers and
others, where recently cut grass was stacked in fragrant, sun-warmed
mounds.
Now and then they passed a neat, white farmhouse with bushes of
golden-glow gleaming cheerfully in the dooryards. Then they entered a
quiet wood where the maples were turning red and yellow. Beyond the wood
a high, ivy-grown stone wall indicated that they were about to pass a
country gentleman’s estate. Far back among wide spreading trees, they
could catch glimpses of the turrets of a castle-like home.
“Mr. Haley, do you know anything about this place?” Adele inquired.
“It belongs to an old and very wealthy family,” the riding-master
replied, “but it has not been occupied for about ten years. I am
acquainted with Mr. Diggitt, the head gardener, and, since Elmhurst is
one of the finest estates in the countryside, perhaps it would interest
you young ladies to canter about the grounds.”
“Oh, Mr. Haley, I do wish that we might!” Rosamond, the romantic,
exclaimed. “I adore old places like this.”
A moment later they were drawing rein in front of an ivy-covered
lodge-house near the great iron gates. A plump, pleasant-faced woman
bustled out and admitted them. “You’ll find my man in the rose-garden,”
Mrs. Diggitt said as she dropped a curtsy.
Following the path indicated, they soon came upon the gardener, who
greeted them pleasantly and leaned on his hoe to talk to Mr. Haley.
“You keep everything in excellent condition, Mr. Diggitt,” the
riding-master said, then he inquired, “Is it true that the owner, Mr.
Ellsworth, has not been here in ten years?”
“Yes, it’s true,” the gardener replied, “and he may not come for another
ten; there’s no way of telling. I never saw him myself, for I’ve only
worked here this four year past, but the gardener before me said that
the old gentleman was very hard to please, and if he should come,
sudden-like, he would expect to find everything spick and span. Anyhow,
I like to keep things up myself. Flowers are like children to me, and I
don’t like to see them lookin’ neglected.”
“I have heard that Mr. Ellsworth is a crusty, overbearing old man and
very difficult to deal with,” Mr. Haley said, then he added, “Mr.
Diggitt, do you mind if these young ladies canter about the grounds?
They will be careful to do no harm.”
The permission was granted and a moment later Adele and Gertrude were
riding side by side toward a picturesque grouping of trees in the midst
of which something white was gleaming.
“I think it is a marble statue,” Gertrude said.
“You are right!” Adele exclaimed as she drew rein. “How very beautiful
it is and how lifelike! I do believe that a young girl posed for that
statue.”
Gertrude was gazing admiringly at the sweet, chiseled face, and, after a
moment of thoughtful silence, she said, “Della, it almost seems as
though I had known some one whom that statue resembles, but of course I
haven’t.”
Suddenly Adele uttered a joyful exclamation. “I know whom it resembles!”
she said. “Little Alise! She has that same sweet, half-wistful
expression.”
“True!” Gertrude replied. “There is a name chiseled on the pedestal. It
is so moss-grown that I cannot read it from here.” Out of curiosity the
two girls dismounted, and bending, they studied for a moment the almost
obliterated letters.
Suddenly Gertrude seized Adele as she exclaimed, “Della, this is almost
uncanny. The first name is Alise, and the last begins with E-l, so of
course it is Ellsworth. Do you suppose that can be a statue of our
little Alise’s mother, and that crabbed old man Mr. Haley and the
gardener were talking about, is her grandfather?”
“He might be,” Adele said as they remounted their horses. “The name
Alise is uncommon, and then again, the grandfather must have been
familiar with Linden Hall or he would not have sent the child there,
and, of course he would be, if he had lived so near, but it doesn’t much
matter _who_ the grandfather is, since he refuses to love our little
Alise.”
“I just wish that I could see him face to face,” Gertrude declared
indignantly, “and I would tell him how cruel he is to leave that poor
sensitive child alone among strangers.”
[Illustration: “I do believe that a young girl posed for that statue.”]
Little did the girls dream of the interesting adventure that the finding
of the statue was to bring to them in the near future.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE GRANDFATHER OF ALISE
The following Friday, Madame Deriby asked the youngest teacher to ride
to the station in the bus to meet a very small new pupil who was coming
to Linden in the care of the conductor.
On her return, Gertrude hailed Adele who was pacing up and down the
deserted terrace memorizing a French poem. Della turned and waited for
her dearest friend. “Why, Trudie!” she exclaimed. “Your eyes are shining
as though you had some wonderful news to tell. Has anything happened?”
“Not yet,” the other laughingly replied, “but it’s going to happen soon.
Adele, just think of it, he has really come.”
“Who has come?” Della inquired, much mystified. “I didn’t know that you
were expecting any one,” then she added eagerly, “You don’t mean Jack or
Bob, do you?”
Gertrude shook her head. “Oh, I’m so excited,” she declared, “but all
that I really know about it is this. When I was down at the station just
now, I saw several big trunks, and on the end of one I read the name A.
R. Ellsworth. Of course, that is the crabbed old gentleman who lives at
Elmhurst, and now, if only I can find a way, I am going to call upon him
and tell him what I think of him for neglecting poor little Alise.”
Just then a gong sounded which called the girls to their classes and
they went indoors, both very much interested in the possible owner of
the trunks. The next day, being Saturday, the opportunity for which
Gertrude had been wishing came in the form of an errand which Madame
Deriby asked her youngest teacher to do, since Patrick and Billie were
both otherwise engaged.
About a mile and a half from the school was the farm of Mr. O’Rourke,
and he it was who provided butter and eggs and chickens and vegetables,
whenever they were needed at Linden Hall, and this day Gertrude had been
asked to ride to the farm and order turkeys for the approaching
Thanksgiving dinner.
“Ask Adele to accompany you, if you wish,” Madame Deriby had said, and
Gertrude fairly flew up to the corner room where she found her dearest
friend alone.
“The momentous hour has arrived!” Gertrude exclaimed. “We are to go on
an errand which leads us past the iron gates of Elmhurst.”
“But, Trudie, you never would _dare_ to ride up to the house and ask to
speak to that dreadful Mr. Ellsworth, would you? He might not be the
grandfather at all, and if he is as grouchy as every one says, your
visit would not be a very pleasant one.”
“But I intend to take you along to protect me,” Gertrude laughingly
declared. “Do close that book, Adele. You ought not to study French on
Saturday. Let’s don our riding-habits as soon as ever we can.”
It was a glorious Indian-summer day with a soft, sun-warmed breeze
wafting to them pleasant fragrance from wood and field. The two girls
rode along, sometimes silently enjoying the loveliness of the morning,
and again talking together, wondering what the outcome of their visit
would be. If they could have known, perhaps they would have passed
Elmhurst without entering.
They were soon at the lodge-house and the neat little woman appeared and
opened the gates.
“Good-morning, Mrs. Diggitt,” Gertrude said in her friendly way. “Do you
remember us? We are pupils from Linden Hall and we were here recently
with Mr. Haley, our riding-master, but to-day we have come to call upon
Mr. Ellsworth, if we may.”
There was a surprised expression on the woman’s face, and then she said,
“Like as not Mr. Ellsworth will be pleased to see you. Just ride up to
the big house and inquire.”
Leaving their horses hitched to the iron posts by the side of the drive,
the two girls ascended the broad stone steps and lifted the heavy
knocker on the carved oak doors. Then they waited, their hearts
fluttering in excitement.
A trim maid appeared and upon hearing that they wished to see Mr.
Ellsworth, she bade them enter the library and wait a bit.
The girls were charmed with the high-ceiled, mahogany-furnished room
which combined elegance and comfort. A log was burning on the fireplace
over which hung the portrait of an old man, whose eyes, under shaggy
brows, looked sharply down at them.
“Trudie, if that is a portrait of the gentleman we are calling upon,”
Adele said softly, “I think that we would better retreat before he comes
in. His face looks so stern that I am sure he will order us out, when
you tell him your errand.”
But before they could leave, even if they had so desired, a voice close
behind them said, “Good-morning, young ladies. Did you wish to see me?”
Somehow this voice did not sound as gruff as they had expected, and
turning, they were indeed surprised to find themselves facing a tall,
good-looking lad of about eighteen.
Gertrude’s self-possession never deserted her. “There must be some
mistake!” she said. “We came to call upon an elderly gentleman, Mr.
Ellsworth, whose portrait, I believe, is hanging over the mantel.”
“Grandfather is dead,” the lad replied, “and my aunt and I have
inherited this estate, but won’t you be seated? Aunt Louise will be down
directly and she will be glad to make your acquaintance.”
“Mr. Ellsworth,” Gertrude began, “I hardly know how to state our errand,
but if you have a moment to spare I would like to tell you a story.”
Then Gertrude told simply all that she knew of little Alise and of her
resemblance to the statue. The lad listened with intense interest.
“Tell me the name of the child,” he said when Gertrude paused.
“Alise Alderly,” the girl had just replied when a pale, beautiful woman
appeared in the doorway.
“Aunt Louise,” the lad exclaimed, leaping to meet her and taking her
hand, “I have news for you, wonderful news! These young ladies are from
Linden Hall and they tell me that there is a child attending the school
named Alise Alderly.”
The woman, her sweet face flushed with eagerness, held out both hands to
the girls, who had risen. “Do tell me about her!” she begged. “Just
before my father died, he tried to tell me what he had done with my dear
sister’s baby, but he was so weak that he could not. We have searched
everywhere for the past three months but have found no trace of her.”
The girls were touched by the charming woman’s emotion and being again
reseated, Gertrude told all that she knew of the orphan child.
A happy light shone in the face of the listener as the story progressed,
and when it was finished, she turned to her nephew, with tears in her
eyes, as she said, “Arthur, I am convinced that we have found my
sister’s little one. Please order my car. I must visit Linden Hall at
once and make further inquiries. If it is my dear sister’s child, oh,
how happy, happy I shall be!”
When the girls were again on the highway, riding toward the farm beyond
Elmhurst, Gertrude exclaimed, “If Alise is really related to that lovely
woman and fine lad, how glad I will be that we were brave enough to make
that visit, and I will now confess that I did dread meeting the stern
old gentleman, especially after seeing his portrait.”
“I wish we might become better acquainted with the Ellsworths,” Adele
said. “They are such charming people.”
This wish was to be fulfilled in a most delightful way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TAMING KATRINA
One Saturday directly after breakfast the girls from Sunnyside were
asked to meet in Adele’s room before beginning the tasks of the morning.
“What does it mean?” Doris Drexel inquired. “This is my practice hour
and Professor Patz has given me such a difficult piece to learn.”
“We won’t keep you but a moment,” Adele said. “Sit down, everybody, and
I will tell you all about it.”
In a semicircle in front of the fireplace they sat, and all turned
wondering eyes toward Gertrude and Adele who had called the meeting.