eagerly. Would he come or would he not? Suddenly the door opened a crack
and then closed again; but a second later it reopened and Bob Angel
entered, bearing a message for Miss Donovan. He smiled broadly at the
girls as he went out. He felt sure that the message he had brought would
be a welcome one.
Miss Donovan smiled, too, as she announced, “Mr. Dickerson has been
called away, and so we will have a written examination.”
When at last the Sunny Seven were out under the elm-tree, Rosamond
dropped down on the bench, exclaiming, “Well, girls, I don’t know how
you all feel, but I am limp.”
Betty’s eyes were shining. “Wasn’t Miss Donovan a dear to give us so
many i-e words!” she exclaimed joyously. “I almost think that I might as
well name the pony.”
The next day Miss Donovan announced the result of the examinations, and
she said: “First of all, I want to congratulate Betty Burd. Her grammar
and spelling were perfect.” Then she added kindly, “Betty is to be
excused from the test in arithmetic, because she is to be tutored in
that subject during the summer, and then she will be promoted with the
rest of the class in the fall.”
Such rejoicing as there was when the Sunny Seven were again under the
elm-tree. Betty wanted the other girls to go home with her, and so
across the meadows they joyously took their way. Into the house Betty
danced, shouting, “Mumsie! Mumsie! I passed perfect in grammar and
spelling.”
“It isn’t possible!” exclaimed her delighted and astonished mother, as
she hurried from the library, embroidery in hand. But the card which
Betty triumphantly produced verified this startling statement.
“Your Uncle George came home early this afternoon,” Mrs. Burd said. “He
is in the study.”
But Mrs. Burd was wrong, for Uncle George, having heard the joyous
commotion, knew that it could have but one meaning and was already in
the hall.
“Just good enough to be true, Betsy Bobbets,” he exclaimed when he had
heard the glorious news. Then Betty, remembering her manners, introduced
the six girls, and Rosamond mentally decided that Uncle George was ever
so good-looking and not so awfully old either.
“And now,” said that young man gayly, “let’s visit the barn.”
“Oh! Oh!” cried the delighted Betty, “Is that darling pony here this
very minute?”
The pony was indeed there, and the girls all gave exclamations of
admiration when they beheld him, for even Firefly was not more handsome.
Then each of the seven rode on his back around the circular drive, and
Rosamond declared that a rocking-chair could not be more comfortable.
“I ought to name him Spelling or Grammar, I suppose,” Betty declared.
“But since he has a white spot on his forehead, I’m going to call him
Star.”
Then, when Uncle George had led the pony back to his stall, Mrs. Burd
called the girls to the wide side-porch, which was so attractive and
cosy with deep wicker chairs, comfortable cushions, and here and there
big drooping ferns on wicker pedestals. When they were seated, Melissy,
the colored maid, brought out cold lemonade and little nut-cookies.
“Well,” said Betty with a happy sigh, “I really do not deserve these
high marks, for if Uncle George had not bribed me, and if you girls
hadn’t encouraged and helped me, I probably would still be spelling
‘believe’ with an e-i.”
“Next year,” Gertrude said wisely, “we will learn our lessons each day
as we go along, and then we shall not have to over-study just before the
examinations.”
“And now,” Rosamond declared, “since vacation is here, we must plan to
give that fudge party which we promised the boys.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VACATION DAYS
“Vacation days have come again,
Joyous, glad, and free.
We’ll brim them full of happiness
As ever days could be.”
Adele sang this little song as she and the Sunny Six skipped across the
meadows on that last day after school. Then, parting with her friends at
the cross-roads, she went on her homeward way, walking more demurely,
since she was now in the village, but her thoughts were dancing as
joyously as before.
“I’m so happy, so happy!” she said to herself. “I wish I might share it
with some one who hasn’t as much as I have.”
And just as she turned in at the lilac gate, she thought of the some
one. Into the house she skipped, and, pausing in the lower hall, she
called eagerly, “Mumsie mine, where are you?”
“Climb the golden stairs, daughter,” a sweet voice replied. And up the
softly-carpeted stairway Adele tripped, and, dancing into her mother’s
sunny sewing-room, she threw her arms about the pretty little woman who
was busily making buttonholes. Then, sinking down on a near-by stool,
she exclaimed, “Adorable Mother, have I been a real good girl this
year?”
“Indeed you have,” Mrs. Doring replied brightly. And then she laughingly
added, “That reminds me of when you were a little girl, Pet, for you
always asked that when you were about to request a favor.”
“Did I?” Adele inquired with twinkling eyes, as she took off her
broad-brimmed, daisy-wreathed hat and fanned her flushed face. Then,
laying her head against her mother’s knee, she added, “Mumsie, darling,
I haven’t changed very much, I guess, for I want to ask a great, big,
and perfectly beautiful favor of you. And since I have been so good,
don’t you think that you might say yes?”
“Oho, Mistress Adele,” laughed her mother, “I cannot grant a favor
unless I know what it is.”
“It’s something just ever so nice,” Adele said, “and it won’t be a mite
of trouble to you. I want to invite that orphan girl, Eva Dearman, over
to spend Saturday and Sunday. She’s just a dear, mumsie, and her home
was as nice as ours before her father lost his money and died, and then,
soon after that, her mother was taken. Oh, mumsie, when I think how it
might have been me, homeless and all alone, I’m so thankful, and yet
that makes me all the sorrier for Eva, and I would so like to share my
home with her just for two days.”
There were tears in Mrs. Doring’s eyes as she held Adele close. Then she
said: “Do go and get Eva this very moment. I would like to meet your
friend.”
“Oh, Adorable Mother!” Adele exclaimed as she sprang up. “I fly to do
your bidding. I’m sure that Mrs. Friend will be willing to let her come,
and won’t Eva be happy, though!”
Adele tossed her school-books into her room as she hurried past, and
then down the stairs she flew. Out to the barn she skipped, and soon
Firefly was hitched to the little red cart. Adele waved to her mother as
she drove out of the lilac gate. She was so happy that, as soon as the
village was passed, she just had to sing.
In the orphanage Eva Dearman was patiently helping Amanda Brown with her
mending, little dreaming of the joy that was soon to be hers.
Adele drew rein in front of the rambling brick building, and telling
Firefly that he should have a lump of sugar if he would stand just ever
so still until she came back, into the Home she went.
Mrs. Friend’s cheery voice bade her enter the office, and how the kind
matron beamed when she saw Adele’s shining face.
“Why, lassie,” she exclaimed, “you look as though the nicest thing
imaginable was just about to happen.”
“And so it is,” Adele replied, “if you will be a kind fairy and grant my
wish.”
“It is granted,” exclaimed Mrs. Friend. “Now tell me what it is.”
“I want to borrow one of your children for over Sunday. Mother would
have written a note, but she was too busy making buttonholes for the
Lend-a-Hands,” Adele explained.
“A note is not at all necessary,” Mrs. Friend replied. “Which of my
children do you wish to borrow? I’m like the old woman who lived in the
shoe: I have so many children, I don’t know what to do.”
“Can’t you guess which one I want to borrow?” Adele asked. And the
matron smilingly replied, “Indeed I can, and you will find Eva in the
sewing-room, I believe.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Friend!” the girl exclaimed gratefully, and then she
tripped down the hall and rapped on a door. Eva herself opened it, and
with a little cry of joy she stepped out and exclaimed, “Oh, Adele, I’ve
just been pining to see you.”
“Eva,” Adele said mysteriously, “you have an invitation. Would you like
to accept it?”
Eva caught her friend’s hands, and with shining eyes she replied, “Would
I? Why, Adele, that’s a needless question! Indeed I would! Is it for all
of the girls, or is it just for me?”
“Just for you this time,” Adele replied, and then she told her what the
invitation was.
Tears rushed to Eva’s eyes, but through them a radiant smile was shining
as she joyously exclaimed, “Am I really and truly to live in your home
for two whole days?”
Adele had not thought that it would mean so much to the little orphan.
Half an hour later, Eva, dressed in her Sunday best and looking
radiantly happy, sat beside Adele in the little red cart, and Firefly,
having had his lump of sugar, was trotting along in his briskest
fashion.
“Oh, Adele,” Eva exclaimed joyfully, “I was having such a hard time to
see the sunny side of life this morning, but now just everything sings
and glows.”
And Adele, having brought so much joy to another, was radiantly happy
herself.
Soon they were turning in at the driveway, and there was Adorable Mother
waiting on the porch to greet them. Her heart had been full of
tenderness for this orphan even before she had seen her, but when she
beheld the slender, graceful girl with soft golden-brown hair, which,
though braided, would escape in ringlets, and the sweet blue eyes which
looked up at her so yearningly, those mother-arms reached out and held
Eva in close embrace.
“Mumsie, dear,” laughed the delighted Adele, “is it manners to hug a
young lady before you’ve been introduced?”
“Yes, and kiss her, too,” Mrs. Doring replied, as she kissed Eva’s
flushed cheeks, and then she added kindly, “Adele’s friend is very
welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Doring,” Eva said, smiling through the tears that would
come.
“There now,” Mrs. Doring said briskly, “you two girls skip up-stairs and
have a nice visit before supper.”
So up the broad and softly-carpeted stairway they went, hand in hand.
Eva gave an exclamation of delight when they entered Adele’s room.
“It’s just like a fairy bower, and I’m so glad that I know the fairy who
lives in it.”
It was indeed a pretty room. The wallpaper was the color of pale
sunshine, and looped about on it, here and there, were wreaths of wild
roses. The window-seat coverings, the curtains, the downy sofa-pillows,
all carried out the wild-rose design. There were bird’s-eye-maple
furniture, low shelves overflowing with good books, a little brass bed,
its pale yellow spread bordered with wild roses, and the big drooping
fern in the sunny bay-window. Surely there never was a cheerier room,
nor one better suited to the maiden who dwelt therein.
“I’m glad that you like it,” Adele exclaimed, “and some day I want a
picture of you to put in this long frame with my very best friends, the
Sunny Six.”
“Do you really?” Eva asked happily. “Oh, Adele, you are so dear and so
good to me that it isn’t a bit hard to see the sunny side when you are
around. Now if it’s manners, I’m going to poke about and examine your
room, just as if I were visiting a museum.”
“Of course it’s manners,” laughed Adele. “I’m very proud of my
ornaments. Father’s younger brother is a great traveler, and he has
brought me things from all parts of the world. See this blue bowl with
the dragon wound about it? A little girl in Japan gave it to Uncle Dixon
for me. He said that her name was Wistaria, and that she looked as
though she had just stepped off of a Japanese fan.”
“Wouldn’t you love to see her!” Eva exclaimed. “I’m so eager to visit
Japan some day when the cherry-trees are in blossom, and sit on the
floor and drink tea in the funny way that they do.”
So with happy chatter the two girls wandered about the room, and Adele
told the story of each ornament. Then drawing Eva to the long mirror,
she laughingly exclaimed, “And now I will show you the life-sized
portrait of two beautiful girls.” Eva, looking in the mirror, saw two
happy faces smiling out at them.
“Look closely,” Adele was saying. “See how true to life the artist has
made them. He has even put in the freckles.” Suddenly a boy’s voice
exclaimed from the doorway, “Vanity! Vanity! Thy name is Girl!”
“Oh, Jack Doring!” Adele cried, whirling about. “It isn’t any such
thing. You were in front of your mirror for ages this morning, trying on
seven different neckties. But, oh, I forgot. Eva, you haven’t met my
brother Jack, have you? He isn’t famous for anything as yet, unless it
is for dodging work.”
“How do you do, Miss Eva?” Jack said solemnly, as he made a low bow.
“Don’t believe a word that Sis says. I have acquired fame this very day,
of which my small sister knows nothing. I have been appointed Pirate the
Terrible, which means that I am now chief of the band of pirates to
which I belong; and, by the way, Sis, they are all coming over here this
evening to get that fudge which you promised to make for us when we
delivered the box.”
“Honestly, Jack Doring?” Adele asked. “Why, I don’t believe that there’s
a square of chocolate in the whole house.”
“Well, there will be,” Jack replied. “You see to inviting the girls and
I’ll get the chocolate and the walnuts. Mother said that we might have
the kitchen to-night.”
When Jack had gone his way, Adele hugged her friend as she exclaimed,
“It will be a party for you, Eva, and I want you to have just the nicest
time.” Then, as the supper-bell was ringing, they made ready and went
down the stairs, arm in arm.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FUDGE PARTY
As Adele and Eva entered the big pleasant library, which was living-room
for the Dorings, a tall man rose from a deep, comfortable chair, and,
laying aside the evening paper, turned to greet them.
“This is my Giant Father!” Adele exclaimed. “Eva, I am introducing you
to the nicest man in the whole world.”
Giant Father shook hands with Eva, and was just about to say some kindly
word of welcome when the side-door banged, and Jack, cap in hand,
appeared before them. “Sis,” he cried, “cast your eye upon this package!
Does it look like chocolate enough? And here are the nuts. It took all
the money I have earned this month to make these purchases.”
“Earned!” exclaimed Adele. “Doing what?”
“Children! Children!” Mrs. Doring laughingly admonished from the
doorway. And then she added, “Come now, since Jack has returned we will
have our supper.”
When they were seated at the table, Adele gayly exclaimed, “Yes, Jackie,
since we have a guest, let us have peace to-night.”
“I’ll gladly have a ‘piece’ of yonder chocolate mountain,” Jack said, as
he waved his hand toward a large cake such as no one could make, so he
thought, except their own cook, Kate. And Kate, serving the supper,
beamed happily on the brown head of the boy who had been the darling of
her heart ever since he had been placed in her arms fourteen years
before. It was indeed her chief happiness to make or bake something for
her boy, Jack.
The merry supper in such a happy home brought tender memories rushing to
the heart of the orphan girl, but bravely she thought, “I must
appreciate what I have and stop grieving for what I cannot have.”
When the supper was over Adele drew Eva into a little room near the
library. “This is Giant Daddy’s den,” she said. “Come in and close the
door. I want to telephone to the Sunny Six and invite them to the fudge
party.”
Soon the line was busy, for Adele was holding merry conversations with
first one of her friends and then another. Yes, indeed, Betty Burd could
come, and wouldn’t it be jolly fun!
“What shall I bring?” Peggy Pierce asked. “Just your own sweet self,”
Adele replied. Bob, Jack’s pal, had told Bertha Angel about the party,
and she said that she and Gertrude Willis would come together. Doris
Drexel lived next door to Adele, so all that she had to do was to crawl
through the hole in the hedge.
Rosamond Wright said that she had to take a music-lesson first. Oh, yes,
she would come to the party after that. Why, she wouldn’t miss it for
worlds, but she _might_ be late.
“They can all come,” Adele announced, as she arose from the desk on
which the phone stood, and then, taking Eva by the hand, she dragged her
gayly toward the kitchen.
“We’ll help Kate do the supper work,” she announced, “and then we can be
getting the place ready for the party.”
With so many helping hands, the room was soon in apple-pie order. Adele
explained to Eva about the club to which her brother belonged. “It’s the
luckiest thing,” she declared. “There are just seven girls in our club
and there are seven boys in Jack’s, so when we give parties we have an
even number. Not that we pair off. I don’t believe that any of the boys
like one girl more than another. They are just our brothers, you see. Of
course, being boys, they are not content to have a nice quiet club like
ours. Last year they had been reading Cooper, so they called themselves
‘The Mohicans,’ and such blood-curdling yells as they could give.
Sometimes they would dress up like Indians and paint their faces and
swoop down upon us girls when we were in the woods, and, truly, they
would frighten us, even though we knew perfectly well who they were.
This year they are reading Stevenson, and so their club is The Jolly
Pirates. They have elected Jack as their chief, and they call him Pirate
the Terrible.”
Just then the front-door bell rang and Adele skipped away, soon to
return with five girls, all of whom welcomed Eva gladly, and then
laughingly they made deep curtsies to Jack, who had just appeared. That
good-looking boy, in return, bowed in most courtly fashion.
A few moments later another bell rang, and Adele, opening the side-door,
peered out into the gathering darkness.
On the porch stood six boys. The head of each was covered with a black,
shroud-like cloth, and in a melancholy tone they chanted:
“Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest.
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.”
“Oh, boys!” Adele exclaimed. “Do take off those dreadful black things!
You give me the shivers, even though I do know who you are.”
But the six black figures stood motionless, and then one asked, in a
deep, gruff voice, “Is this the home of Pirate the Terrible?”
“Yes, it is,” laughed Adele, “but he isn’t so very terrible just now,
for he has on a calico apron and he’s cracking nuts for the fudge.”
Then, to the surprise of the onlookers, the boys jumped up into the air,
and, clicking their heels together, they shouted in chorus, “Yo-ho!
Jolly Pirates, seize the fudge!” Then, snatching off their black
headgear, six laughing boyish faces were revealed, and Bob Angel cried,
“In, my good men, and enjoy the revelry. Rich entertainment awaits you.”
“You ought to say, ‘In, my _bad_ men,’ I should think, if you are
playing pirates,” Adele suggested. Then she added, “Eva, permit me to
introduce to you my brother’s boon companions, the Jolly Pirates. I
won’t tell you their names just at first; it would be too confusing.
I’ll let you learn them gradually. Now, boys, you may sit over here with
Jack and crack nuts. And Peggy, you’d better stay near them and see that
they put the nuts into the bowl.”
“Oh, let’s trust to their honor,” Peggy gayly replied. Meanwhile Doris
Drexel was grating the chocolate, and soon the candy-making was well
under way.
“It’s strange that Rosie doesn’t arrive,” Adele said at last. “It’s
quite dark now, and she may be afraid to come alone. Perhaps—” But
before Adele could say another word, some one stumbled up on the side
steps, the kitchen door burst open, and there stood Rosamond with wide,
startled eyes, and face as white as a sheet.
“Rosie!” Adele cried in alarm. “What is the matter?”
“I saw a ghost!” Rosamond exclaimed, as she glanced fearfully out of the
still open door.
“It must be some one playing a prank,” said Jack, who had risen. Then he
added, “Up, Jolly Pirates! Let us fare forth and capture this ghost.”
The fudge, which was already on the buttered tins, was set to cool, and
so the girls declared that they would go along. Not one of them believed
that Rosie had seen a real ghost, for they all knew that she was timid
and imaginative.
Rosie, however, was convinced that she had seen a being supernatural,
and so she clung to Adele’s arm fearfully as they went out into the warm
night. In the sky were low, gray clouds, which were slowly drifting.
Occasionally the moon appeared in a rift, and then it was dark again.
“It will rain before morning,” Dick Jensen said.
“Now, Rosie,” Jack Doring exclaimed, when they were out on the highway,
“I am Pirate the Terrible. Lead me to your ghost and I will scare him so
that I will make his bones rattle.”
“I saw it in the orchard, right at the cross-roads,” said Rosie.
“Follow me!” Jack commanded. “We’ll take a short cut through the
graveyard.”
At that Rosamond stopped and exclaimed, “Jack Doring, you’ll do no such
thing. There are tombstones in the graveyard,—you know there are!”
“Of course I know it,” Jack agreed. “But, my dear Rosie, did you ever
hear of a stone, tomb or otherwise, taking legs unto itself and pursuing
a young lady?”
“No-o,” Rosamond reluctantly admitted. “But graveyards are so scary.”
“We will stay on the high-road,” Adele said, wishing that they had not
come, since Rosie seemed really frightened.
The cross-roads was a lonely spot. There had been a pleasant home
standing on one corner, but it had recently burned, leaving only a
charred ruin and a yawning cellar. In the fitful moonlight this looked
very ghostly. Beyond was an old apple-orchard, and on the far corner
near the fence stood—
“Look! Look!” cried Rosie, clutching Adele. “There it is! There’s the
ghost. Right there—all in white!”
They all stopped and stared,—the girls startled, the boys puzzled,—for,
truly enough, a tall, white figure stood silently in front of them. Then
suddenly an unearthly scream rang through the air, followed by another
from Rosamond.
“That was a screech-owl,” Jack said. “Now, fellows, if you are worthy of
the name of pirates, show your courage and let’s at the ghost before
Rosie faints.”
“Yo-ho-ho!” the boys shouted as they ran toward the white apparition.
Then such a merry laugh rang out!
“Oh, Rosie!” Jack called. “Come, quick, and see what your ghost is.”
No longer afraid, Rosamond went forward with the others. “What is it?”
she asked.
“Why, it’s an old tree-trunk,” Bob explained, “and for some reason or
other Mr. Wiggin had it whitewashed.”
“Well, it looked like a ghost, anyway,” Rosamond said faintly. How the
boys laughed!
“Never mind our fun, Rosie,” Lawrence Collins called; “we’ve surely had
an exciting adventure. Now, let’s hike back to the fudge, for I am
convinced that it is cool.”
Then the seven boys locked arms and marched ahead of the girls, chanting
in loud voices:
“Yo-ho-ho! Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest.”
“I do wish they wouldn’t sing that dreadful song,” Rosie said with a
shudder.
Adele laughed as she replied, “I guess that we shall have to put up with
it as long as they are playing Pirates.”
“I wonder what they will be next,” Peggy Pierce remarked. “You remember
that last year they were Indians.”
“Many of them will be going up to the city in the fall to attend the
high school, and so probably this will be their last club,” Gertrude
replied.
They were all rather glad to get back into the warm, cosy kitchen.
“Good!” cried Betty Burd. “The fudge is cool. It’s so nice and creamy,
and the nuts are just crowding each other.”
Then followed a happy half-hour in which the candy was eaten amidst much
joking and laughter. Soon thereafter the Jolly Pirates escorted the
Sunny Six to their homes and quiet settled down over the town of
Sunnyside.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE TWO DRYADS
It was ten o’clock when Eva and Adele went to their room that night.
“Think of it!” Eva declared with shining eyes. “The orphans at the Home
have been in their beds and sound asleep for two long hours. I feel as
though I were a grown-up young lady, don’t you, Adele?”
“I do, indeed,” Adele replied, “but to-morrow morning we may sleep as
late as we wish.”
“Oh, what a treat that will be!” Eva said, as she nestled down in the
soft bed. “In the Home we have to be up at six.”
But, for all their resolution to sleep late, both of the girls were wide
awake with the robins who lived in the apple-tree nearest the window.
Eva sat up and exclaimed, “Oh, Adele, wouldn’t it be lovely on the top
of Lookout Hill so early in the morning! I’ve often wanted to climb up
there.”
“Let’s go!” Adele replied.