BREAKING UP OF CAMP AND A SURPRISE
The time had arrived for the girls to separate. The Scouts came up and
carried Nannie off. She had become a great favorite. As Patty expressed
it, Nannie was a comfortable visitor because she seemed to “belong.” She
made no fuss and adapted herself to their ways.
She promised to return the following summer and Harvey pronounced their
camp as fine as any place they might select.
“So there’s no reason why we boys should not come back, too; but you
must let us entertain you Camp Fire girls next year. It’s been all on
your side this.”
So they all went to the train to see them off, and people crowded around
as though they might be a circus troop, staring curiously at them and
making remarks.
Then after saying goodbye the different members went to their homes.
Ethel and her cousin Kate were to go to Akron for a week or so, as Uncle
Archie Hollister was coming up to spend his vacation.
The girls met him at the train and Ethel was overjoyed.
“Oh, Papa,” she said, “if only you could have been here before Camp
broke up. But we are going up for the day and give you a regular Camp
Fire dinner,” and she kissed him affectionately.
“Next year I’ll get off earlier,” replied Mr. Hollister, “but our
President was very ill and none of us liked to leave.”
They gave Mr. Hollister a rousing dinner. Nearly all of the girls were
present. They did their cooking like desserts, bread, etc., at home, but
the meat, corn and potatoes were roasted on the coals. They had Uncle
John, Judge Sands, Mr. Casey and Mr. Hollister for guests, and
everything went off finely. Mr. Hollister was loud in his praises of the
cooking, and in fact, the whole organization.
“It’s great,” he said, smacking his lips. “I think the person who
invented it should have a gold medal.”
They spent a few days at Columbus. Ethel went to see Mattie and her
mother. She also spent the night with Nora. Their home was very handsome
and Ethel could not help but respect kind-hearted Mr. Casey, who tried
to make it so pleasant for her. She had grown very fond of Nora. She saw
her good traits,—her splendid unselfishness, and her tenderness towards
her father as she tried to take her mother’s place with him.
“What a narrow, selfish girl I’ve been,” she thought, “never to have
noticed them before. Why, the way Nora shielded Mattie when the girl
took her ring was a lesson to me, and I never took it.”
During their stay at Uncle John’s Mrs. Hollister came up, and the
meeting between her husband and self was like lovers. Ethel was glad.
“And it was I that kept them apart,” she told Kate—“I with my society
and expensive schools. Poor Father! what could he do but grind from
morning until night; and Mother with her hopes and ambitions—what could
she do? Why, they had no time to speak to each other except on business
and money. It was all so false and wrong. Now they are as they should
have been, but think of the lost years, and all for me.”
“Never think of it, Ethel,” said Kate, “it’s past and over. Everything
has come smooth. Forget it, dear; you were not to blame.”
Judge Sands called nearly every evening. He and Uncle Archie struck up
quite a friendship. The Judge took him on auto trips far into the
country, Kate, Patty, and Ethel going along.
One evening, after they all had gone back to Akron, Judge Sands called
Patty into the library.
“I wish to have a little talk with you, my dear,” he said.
“Are you going to scold me for running over my allowance last month?”
she replied, “because if you are I just couldn’t help it. I wanted to
give all of the girls a little remembrance, and——”
“Patty, my child, have I ever scolded you for anything—think? Haven’t
you done exactly as you chose since your childhood?”
“Yes,” replied the girl, “but I know that there are times when you
should scold me, Papa, for I know I am self-willed and disobedient.”
“Well, we shall forget that. You’re a pretty good girl considering that
you have but one parent. Now this is what I wish to see you about. Your
mother died when you were three, dear, and you’ve been with me ever
since. It’s been lonely for both of us at times, and for me especially
so while you are away at school. Patty, how should you like a mother? Of
course, no one can take the place of her who has gone, but I mean
another one.”
The girl began to cry.
“I should not like it, Papa.”
Then she looked at him. He was a handsome man, and if ever she were to
marry he would be alone, in the prime of life.
“I suppose I’m selfish,” she sobbed, clinging to him, “but I should hate
a stepmother. Think of her taking Mamma’s place. Oh, Papa! I couldn’t
bear it.”
“But supposing she was a woman of whom you were fond. Would you feel
that way then?”
“I couldn’t be fond of her.”
“You might be fond of her already,” said the Judge.
“Who—who can it be?” asked Patty, wiping her eyes and pushing back her
hair.
The Judge smiled.
“Think, my dear.”
“Is it Miss Kate Hollister?” cried the girl joyfully. “Tell me quick.”
Then Judge Sands blushed like a schoolboy.
“Yes,” he said, “she is the only woman who can take your mother’s place,
Patty. No—not that—no one can take her dear place; but she is the only
woman upon earth whom I should ask to be my wife.”
Then Patty jumped up and kissed her father many times.
“Oh, Papa!” she said, “why didn’t you tell me at first and not frighten
me to death. Oh! I should love her so, and I should never be jealous of
her. Are you engaged?”
“No,” laughed the Judge, “I have never asked her. I thought you deserved
the compliment of being first consulted on the matter.”
“But, Papa, perhaps she’ll refuse you.”
“That’s my end of it,” laughed her father, “but when I do ask her I wish
to say that you desire it, too, for Kate might not think it agreeable to
you.”
“Papa, she’s got to say ‘yes,’ I’ll go along and make her if you wish.
I’d just love her for a mother,” and the girl clung to his neck and
wept. “I only now realize how lonely you must have been all these years,
and you’ve done it for me. But don’t let her refuse. Tell her I desire
it above all things.”
“All right, dearie,” said the Judge. “I’ll go tonight.”
“And wake me up, Papa. I shall be so anxious.”
Judge Sands laughed and promised.
That night no matter how hard Patty tried she couldn’t keep awake. Now
that she knew who it was that her father desired she was happy, and one
can always sleep when one is happy.
The Judge ran up the stairs two steps at a time and woke his daughter
with a kiss.
“Will she, Papa?”
“Yes, dear,” he answered. “She has been good enough to say ‘yes.’ We’ll
make her happy, won’t we, Patty?”
“We shall,” replied the girl. “And how young you seem to have grown!”
she gasped. “I never noticed it before. I’m glad for you and I’m glad
for her. She’s a dear. I’ve always loved her and she’s such a stunning
looking woman, too. I tell you, we’ll be proud of her, Papa.”
They talked for half an hour over the virtues of Miss Kate, and each
went to sleep thinking of how lovely she was.
When Kate and Patty met they said not a word, but from the quiet,
sincere embrace each knew that the other would try and make her happy.
Congratulations poured in from all sides. Archie and his wife with Aunt
Susan, Grandmother and Tom, motored all the way over to Columbus to
offer theirs. Ethel was wild with joy.
“Why,” she exclaimed, “everything is getting better! People are doing
such sensible things lately, just as they should do. Isn’t it wonderful?
But, Tom, I always thought that you cared for Cousin Kate.”
“So I have all along, but just as I was considering, in walked the Judge
and took her off under my very nose. While I was a poor lawyer I felt
that she might refuse me and I took no chances, but I never imagined
she’d look at a man of his age. She’s certainly met the one for her.
What a splendid couple they’ll make.”
“You always were slow, Tom; that’s your fault,” laughed Ethel, “and
you’ll always get left. It serves you right.”
“Yes, that’s going to be my fate, I fear. Before I can muster up courage
to propose, these girls will be snatched up—every one of them.”
Judge Sands and Kate were to be married in November. They were to go to
New York, Washington, etc., on a wedding trip, after which they were to
meet Patty and sail for Egypt to be gone indefinitely.
“Oh, dear! who can take your place at Camp?” said the girls. “We’ll
never find another Guardian like you.”
“I’ll ask Louise Morehouse,” said Miss Kate. “She’s lovely, and very
much interested in this Camp Fire movement. She’ll be one of you just as
I have been.”
“Yes, and then she’ll meet someone and go off and marry,” said Mollie
Long. “There should be a law against it. A Guardian should be obliged to
serve for five years unmarried—it isn’t fair,” and the girls voted that
Mollie was correct.
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