GOING ABOUT
Four smiling, eager girls trooped down to breakfast the next morning,
and found Mrs. Berry awaiting them. She presided at the table, and they
learned that she would always do so at breakfast and luncheon, though
she did not dine with them.
"Uncle Jeff says we may go to a matinee to-day," said Alicia,
delightedly. "Will you see about the tickets, Mrs. Berry? Uncle said
Mr. Fenn would get them if you asked him to."
"Yes, my dear. And what are your plans for the morning? Do you want the
car?"
"Yes, indeed," said Bernice. "We're going to the Museum and I don't
know where else."
"To the Library, if we have time," suggested Dolly. "I want to see all
the places of interest."
"Places of interest never interest me," declared Alicia. "I think
they're poky."
"All right," returned Dolly, good-naturedly, "I'll go wherever you
like."
"Now, don't be so ready to give in, Doll," cautioned Bernice. "You have
as much right to your way as Alicia has to hers."
"No, I haven't," and Dolly smiled brightly; "this is the house of
Alicia's uncle, and not mine."
"Well, he's my uncle, too, and what I say goes, as much as Alicia's
commands."
"There, there, girls, don't quarrel," said Mrs. Berry, in her amiable
way. "Surely you can all be suited. There are two cars, you know, and
if you each want to go in a different direction, I'll call taxi-cabs
for you."
Dolly and Dotty stared at this new lavishness, and Dotty said, quickly,
"Oh, no, don't do that! We all want to be together, wherever we go. And
I think, as Dolly does, that Bernice and Alicia must choose, for they
belong here and we're guests."
"You're two mighty well-behaved little guests," and Mrs. Berry beamed
at them. "Well, settle it among yourselves. Now, what matinee do you
want to go to? I'll order tickets for you."
"Will you go with us, Mrs. Berry?" asked Dolly.
"No, child. I hope you'll let me off. You girls are old enough to go
alone in the daytime, and Kirke will take you and come to fetch you
home. Now, what play?"
"I want to see 'The Lass and the Lascar'; that's a jolly thing, I
hear," said Alicia, as no one else suggested anything.
"Musical?" asked Bernice.
"Yes," said Mrs. Berry, "it's a comic opera, and a very good one. I've
seen it, and I'm sure you girls will enjoy it. I'll order seats for
that. Be sure to be home for luncheon promptly at one, so you can get
ready for the theatre."
"I can't believe it all," whispered Dotty, pinching Dolly's arm, as
they ran upstairs to prepare for their morning's trip. "Think of our
going to all these places in one day!"
"And six days more to come!" added Dolly. "Oh, it is too gorgeous!"
Arrayed in warm coats and furs, the laughing quartette got into the big
car, and George, the polite footman, adjusted the robes, and asked
their destination.
"To the Metropolitan Museum, first," said Alicia, unselfishly.
"Oh," cried Dolly, with sparkling eyes, "are we really going there
first! How good of you, Alicia!"
And from the moment they entered the vestibule of the great museum,
Dolly was enthralled with what she saw. Like one in a trance, she
walked from room to room, drinking in the beauty or strangeness of the
exhibits. She ignored the catalogues, merely gazing at the pictures or
curios with an absorbed attention that made her oblivious to all else.
"Watch her," said Alicia, nudging Dotty. "She doesn't even know where
she is! Just now, she's back in Assyria with the people that wore that
old jewellery!"
Sure enough Dolly was staring into a case of antique bracelets and
earrings of gold and jewels. She moved along the length of the case,
noting each piece, and fairly sighing with admiration and wonder.
"My gracious! isn't she the antiquarian!" exclaimed Alicia. "Look here,
old Professor Wiseacre, what dynasty does this junk belong to?"
Dolly looked up with a vacant stare.
"Come back to earth!" cried Alicia, shaking with laughter. "Come back
to the twentieth century! We mourn our loss!"
"Yes, come back, Dollums," said Dotty. "There are other rooms full of
stuff awaiting your approval."
Dolly laughed. "Oh, you girls don't appreciate What you're seeing. Just
think! Women wore these very things! Real, live women!"
"Well, they're not alive now," said Bernice, "and we are. So give us
the pleasure of your company. Say, Dolly, some day you come up here all
alone by yourself, and prowl around--"
"Oh, I'd love to! I'll do just that. And then I won't feel that I'm
delaying you girls. Where do you want to go now?"
"Anywhere out of this old museum," said Alicia, a little pettishly.
"You've had your way, Dotty, now it's only fair I should have mine.
We've about an hour left; let's go to the shops."
"Yes, indeed," and Dolly spoke emphatically. "I didn't realise that I
was being a selfish old piggy-wig!"
"And you're not," defended Bernice. "We all wanted to come here, but,
well, you see, Dolly, you do dawdle."
"But it's such a wonder-place!" and Dolly gazed longingly backward as
they left the antiquities. "And there are rooms we haven't even looked
into yet."
"Dozens of 'em," assented Alicia. "But not this morning, my
chickabiddy! I must flee to the busy marts and see what's doing in the
way of tempting bargains."
"All right," and Dolly put her arm through Alicia's. "What are you
going to buy?"
"Dunno, till I see something that strikes my fancy. But in the paper
this morning, I noticed a special sale of 'Pastime Toggery' at
Follansbee's. Let's go there."
"Never heard of the place," said Dolly. "But let's go."
"Never heard of Follansbee's! Why, it's the smartest shop in New York
for sport clothes."
"Is it? We never get sport clothes. Unless you mean middies and
sweaters. My mother buys those at the department stores."
"Oh, you can't get exclusive models there!" and Alicia's face wore a
reproving expression.
"No," said outspoken Dolly, "but we don't wear exclusive models. We're
rather inclusive, I expect."
"You're a duck!" cried Alicia, who, though ultra-fashionable herself,
liked the honesty and frankness of the two D's.
They reached the shop in question, and the four girls went in.
The Berwick girls were a little awed at the atmosphere of the place,
but Alicia was entirely mistress of the situation. She had many
costumes and accessories shown to her, and soon became as deeply
absorbed in their contemplation as Dolly had been in the Museum
exhibits.
"Why, for goodness' sake!" cried Bernice, at last. "Are you going to
buy out the whole shop, Alicia?"
"Why, I'm not going to buy any," returned Alicia, looking surprised;
"I'm just shopping, you know."
"Oh, is that it? Well, let me tell you it isn't any particular fun for
us to look on while you 'shop'! And, anyway, it's time to be going
home, or we'll be late for the luncheon and for the matinee."
"All right, I'll go now. But wait. I want to buy some little thing for
you girls,--sort of a souvenir, you know."
"Good for you!" said Bernice, but Dolly demurred.
"I don't think you ought to, Alicia," she said. "I don't believe my
mother would like me to take it."
"Nonsense, Towhead! I'm just going to get trifles. Nobody could object
to my giving you a tiny token of my regard and esteem. Let me see,--how
about silk sweaters? They're always handy to have in the house."
Unheeding the girls' protestations, Alicia selected four lovely
colours, and asked the saleswoman to get the right sizes.
Dolly's was robin's egg blue; Dotty's salmon pink; Bernice's, a deep
orange, and Alicia's own was white, as she declared she already had
every colour of the rainbow.
Then she selected an old rose one for Mrs. Berry, getting permission to
exchange it if it should be a misfit.
Alicia ordered the sweaters sent to her uncle's house, and the bill
sent to her father. This arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to
the shop people, and the girls set off for home.
"I feel uncomfortable about that sweater," announced Dolly, as they
were on their way.
"That doesn't matter," laughed Alicia, "so long as you don't feel
uncomfortable in it! Remove that anxious scowl, my little Towhead; I
love to give things to my friends, and you must learn to accept trifles
gracefully."
"But it isn't a trifle, Alicia. I know mother won't like it."
"Won't like that blue sweater! Why, it's a beauty!"
"I don't mean that. I mean she won't like for me to take it,--to accept
it from you."
"All right; tell her you bought it yourself."
"Tell a story about it! No, thank you." Dolly's blue eyes fairly
flashed at the thought.
"Well, my stars! Dolly, don't make such a fuss about it! Throw it away,
or give it to the scullery maid! You don't have to keep it!"
Clearly, Alicia was annoyed. Dolly was far from ungrateful, and she
didn't know quite what to do.
"Of course, she'll keep it," Dotty broke in, anxious to straighten
matters out. "She adores it, Alicia; but we girls aren't accustomed to
making each other gifts,--at least, not expensive ones."
"Well, you needn't make a habit of it. One sweater doesn't make a
summer! I hope Mrs. Berry won't be so squeamish! If I thought she
would, I'd throw hers in the ash barrel before I'd give it to her!"
"I s'pose I was horrid about it, Alicia," said Dolly, contritely; "I do
love it, really, you know I do; but, as Dotty says, we never give such
gifts. Why, I can't give you anything to make up for it--"
"And I don't want you to! You little goose! But like as not, you can
sometime do something for me worth more than a dozen sweaters."
"I hope so, I'm sure. Will you tell me if I can?"
"Yes, baby-face! I declare, Dolly, it's hard to realise you're fifteen
years old! You act about twelve,--and look ten!"
"Oh, not so bad as that!" and Dolly laughed gaily. "I s'pose I do seem
younger than I am, because I've always lived in a small town. We don't
do things like city girls."
"'Deed we don't!" exclaimed Dotty. "I used to live in the city, and
when I went to Berwick it was like a different world. But I've come to
like it now."
"I like it," said Bernice, decidedly. "I think we have a lot more fun
in Berwick than we could in New York. To live, I mean. Of course, this
visit here is lovely, but it's the novelty and the strange sights that
make it so. I wouldn't want to live in New York."
"Neither would I," and Dolly shook her head very positively.
"I would," said Alicia. "I'd just love to live here, in a house like
Uncle Jeff's, and have all these cars and servants and everything fine."
"No, thank you," Dolly rejoined. "It's beautiful for a week, but it
makes my head go round to think of living like this always."
"Your head is not very securely fastened on, anyway," and Alicia
grinned at her. "You'll lose it some day!"
"Maybe so," smiled Dolly, affably, and then they suddenly found they
were back home.
"Good time, girlies?" called out Mrs. Berry, as they entered. "Lunch is
all ready; sit down and eat it, and get dressed for the matinee
afterward, Mr. Fenn got fine seats for you,--near the front. You'll
like the play, I know."
And like the play they did. It was a light opera, of the prettiest
type, full of lovely scenery, gay costumes and bright, catchy music.
"The Lass and the Lascar" was its name, and the lass in question was a
charming little girl who seemed no older than the quartette themselves.
The Lascar was a tall, handsome man, whose swarthy East Indian effects
were picturesque and attractive. He had a magnificent baritone voice,
and the girls sat breathless when he sang his splendid numbers. All
four were fond of music and even more than the gay splendour of the
show they enjoyed the voices and orchestra.
"Isn't he wonderful!" exclaimed Alicia, as the curtain fell on the
first act. "Oh, girls, isn't he SUPERB! I'm MADLY in love with him!"
"He has a beautiful voice," agreed Dolly, "but I couldn't be in love
with him! He's too,--too ferocious!"
"But that's his charm," declared Alicia, rolling her eyes in ecstasy.
"Oh, he is ideal! He's fascinating!"
The curtain rose again, and the Lascar proved even more fascinating. He
was a daredevil type, as Lascars have the reputation of being, but he
was gentle and affectionate toward the Lass, who, for some inexplicable
reason, scorned his advances.
"What a FOOL she is! WHAT a fool!" Alicia whispered, as the coquettish
heroine laughed at the impassioned love songs of her suitor. "I should
fall into his arms at once!"
"Then there wouldn't be any more opera," laughed Bernice. "That fall
into his arms is always the last episode on the stage."
"That's so," agreed Alicia, "but how can she flout him so? Oh, girls,
isn't he the grandest man? I never saw such a handsome chap! What a
lovely name he has, too: Bayne Coriell! A beautiful name."
"Good gracious, Alicia! don't rave over him like that! Somebody will
hear you!"
"I don't care. I never saw any one so wonderful! I'm going to get his
picture when we go out. I suppose it's for sale in the lobby. They
usually are."
"Are they?" asked Dolly. "Then I want to get one of the Lass. Marie
Desmond, her name is. Can I, do you think?"
"Yes, of course, Dollykins. You get that and I'll get my hero, my idol,
Bayne Coriell!"
As it chanced the photographs were not on sale at the theatre, but an
usher told Alicia where they could be bought, and she directed Kirke to
stop there on the way home.
She bought several different portraits of the man who had so infatuated
her and Dolly bought two photographs of Miss Desmond. The other girls
said they didn't care for any pictures, and laughed at the enthusiasm
of Alicia and Dolly.
"I want this," Dolly defended herself, "because sometime I'm going to
be an opera singer. I did mean to sing in Grand Opera, and maybe I
will, but if I can't do that, I'll sing in light opera, and I like to
have this picture to remind me how sweet Miss Desmond looks in this
play."
"Pooh," said Alicia, "that's all very well. But I want these pictures
of Bayne Coriell because he's such a glorious man! Why, he's as
handsome as Apollo. And, girls, I don't believe he's hardly any older
than we are."
"Oh, he must be," returned Dotty. "Why, he's twenty-two or more, I'm
sure."
"Maybe he is twenty, but not more than that. Oh, how I wish I could
meet him! Think of the joy of talking to a man like that!"
"Well, it's not likely you'll ever meet Bayne Coriell," said Bernice,
laughing at the idea; "so you needn't hope for that!"