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[Illustration: Cover]
THE LITTLE COLONEL'S KNIGHT COMES RIDING
Works of ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
The Little Colonel Series
(_Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of._)
Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated
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The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding 1.50
Mary Ware: The Little Colonel's Chum 1.50
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L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
200 Summer Street Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "WITH THE DONNING OF THE ANCIENT DRESS SHE SEEMED TO HAVE
PUT ON THE SWEET SHY MANNER THAT HAD BEEN THE CHARM OF ITS FIRST
WEARER."
(_See page 142_)]
THE LITTLE COLONEL'S KNIGHT COMES RIDING
BY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
AUTHOR OF
"THE LITTLE COLONEL SERIES," "BIG BROTHER,"
"OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT," "JOEL: A BOY
OF GALILEE," "ASA HOLMES," ETC.
Illustrated by
ETHELDRED B. BARRY
"And sometimes in the mirror blue,
The knights come riding, two by two."
THE LADY OF SHALOTT.
[Illustration]
BOSTON
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1907_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_
_All rights reserved_
First impression, October, 1907
Second impression, April, 1909
_COLONIAL PRESS
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U. S. A._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE HANGING OF THE MIRROR 1
II. BED-TIME CONFIDENCES 27
III. A KNIGHT COMES RIDING 46
IV. BETTY'S NOVEL 68
V. A CAMERA HELPS 97
VI. "GARDEN FANCIES" 116
VII. SPANISH LESSONS 134
VIII. "SHADOWS OF THE WORLD APPEAR" 161
IX. MORE SHADOWS 181
X. BY THE SILVER YARD-STICK 199
XI. THE END OF SEVERAL THINGS 221
XII. SIX MONTHS LATER 242
XIII. THE MIRACLE OF BLOSSOMING 266
XIV. THE ROYAL MANTLE 285
XV. "AS IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS" AND BETTY'S DIARY 308
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
"WITH THE DONNING OF THE ANCIENT DRESS SHE SEEMED
TO HAVE PUT ON THE SWEET SHY MANNER THAT HAD
BEEN THE CHARM OF ITS FIRST WEARER"
(_See page 142_) _Frontispiece_
"THE OTHER GRASPED SOME DARK OBJECT THAT SEEMED TO
BE A PICTURE FRAME" 6
"DREW REIN A MOMENT AT THE GATE, TO LOOK DOWN THE
STATELY AVENUE" 47
"HE WAS BENDING ANXIOUSLY OVER A BUBBLING SAUCEPAN" 87
"MAKING A CUP OF HER WHITE HANDS" 126
"FOR ONCE THE RED AND GREEN BIRD WAS ON ITS GOOD
BEHAVIOUR" 180
"SHE POURED THE CORN INTO THE POPPER AND BEGAN TO
SHAKE IT OVER THE RED COALS" 261
"'SHE LOOKED TO ME JUST LIKE ONE OF HER OWN LILIES'" 315
THE LITTLE COLONEL'S KNIGHT COMES RIDING
CHAPTER I
THE HANGING OF THE MIRROR
IT was a June morning in Kentucky. The doctor's nephew coming at a
gallop down the pike into Lloydsboro Valley, reined his horse to a walk
as he reached the railroad crossing, and leaning forward in his saddle,
hesitated a moment between the two roads.
The one along the railroad embankment was sweet with a tangle of wild
honeysuckle, and led straight to the little post-office where his
morning mail awaited him. The other would take him a mile out of his
way, but it was through a thick beech woods, and the cool leafage of its
green aisles tempted him. A red-bird darting on ahead suddenly decided
his course, for following some quick impulse, as if the cardinal wings
had beckoned him, he turned off the highway into the woods.
"I might as well go around and have a look at that Lindsey Cabin," he
said to himself, as an excuse for turning aside. "If it's in as good
shape as I think it is, maybe I can persuade the Van Allens to rent it
for the summer. It's a pity to have a picturesque place like that
standing empty when it has such possibilities for hospitality, and the
Van Allen girls a positive genius for giving jolly house-parties. To get
that family out to Lloydsboro for the summer would be paving the way to
no end of good times."
The farther he rode into the cool woods the better the idea pleased him,
and where the bridle-path crossed a narrow creek he paused a moment
before plunging down the bank. Somewhere up the ravine a spring was
trickling out in a ceaseless flow. He could not see it, but he could
hear the gurgle of the water, as cold and crystal clear it splashed down
into its rocky basin.
"They could picnic here to their hearts' content," he said aloud,
glancing up and down the ravine at the rank growth of fern and
maidenhair which festooned the rocks.
Alex Shelby had spent only part of two summers in Lloydsboro Valley, but
the woodsy smell of mint and pennyroyal, mingling with the fern, brought
back the recollection of at least a dozen picnics he had enjoyed near
this spot, most of them moonlight affairs, and all of them so pleasant
that he was determined to bring about their repetition if possible. Of
course this summer he would not have as much time for outings as he had
had then. Now that he had finished his medical course he intended to
shoulder as much as possible of his uncle's work. The old doctor's
practice had grown far too heavy for him. But at the same time there
need be no limit to the pleasant things that the summer could bring
forth, especially if the Van Allen family could be installed in the
Lindsey Cabin.
A quarter of a mile more brought him almost to the edge of the woods and
to the beginning of the Lindsey place. The spacious, two-story log cabin
standing back among the great forest trees, might have been a relic of
Daniel Boone's day, so carefully had his pioneer pattern been copied by
skilful architects. But the resemblance was only outward. Inside it was
luxuriously equipped with every modern convenience. For a year it had
stood tenant-less, and Alex Shelby never passed it without regretting
that such a charming old place should be abandoned to dust and spiders.
The last time he had gone by it, he had noticed that it was beginning to
show the effect of its long neglect. Some of the windows were completely
overgrown by ragged rose-vines and Virginia Creeper, and a tin
waterspout that had blown loose from its fastenings, dangled from the
eaves.
Now as he came near he saw in surprise that the place seemed to have an
alert, live air, as if just awakened from sleep. The windows were all
thrown open, the vines were trimmed, and were a mass of bloom, the dead
leaves were raked neatly in piles and the cobwebs no longer hung from
the cornices in dusty festoons.
A long ladder leaning against the front of the house, rested on the sill
of an upper window, and Alex wondered if the agents had painters at
work. He hoped so. The more thorough the renovation, the more attractive
it would be to the Van Allens.
Suddenly his pleased expression changed to one of surprise and dismay,
as he saw that the place was already inhabited. Empty packing-boxes,
excelsior and wrapping paper littered the front porch. A new hammock
hung between the posts. Somebody's garden-hat lay on the steps.
Moreover, a slender girl in a white dress stood at the foot of the
ladder, evidently about to ascend, for she shook it to test its balance,
and then cautiously stepped up on the first round.
Her back was toward Alex, and he fervently hoped that she would turn
around so that he might see her face, then more fervently hoped that she
wouldn't, since it would be somewhat embarrassing to be caught staring
as inquisitively as he was doing. Unconsciously at sight of her he had
brought his horse to a standstill, and now sat wondering who she could
be and what she was about to do. It was as if a curtain had gone up on
the first scene of an intensely interesting play, and for the moment he
forgot everything else in admiration of the stage setting, and the
graceful little figure poised on the ladder.
"Probably going up for an armful of roses," he thought.
"Hold tight, Ca'line Allison! Don't let it slip!" she called in a high
sweet voice, almost as if she were singing the words, and Alex noticed
for the first time, a small coloured girl behind the ladder, bracing
herself against it to hold it steady.
The ascent was a slow one. Twice she tripped on her skirts, and with a
little shriek almost slipped through between the rounds. Only one hand
was free for climbing. The other grasped some dark object that seemed to
be a picture frame, though why one should be carrying a picture frame up
the outside of a house was more than the young man could imagine, and he
concluded he must be mistaken.
[Illustration: "THE OTHER GRASPED SOME DARK OBJECT THAT SEEMED TO BE A
PICTURE FRAME."]
The last step brought her head on a level with the second story window,
and up where the sun struck through the trees in a broad shaft of light.
Her hair had been beautiful in the shadow; a rare tint of auburn with
bronze gold glints, but now in the sunshine it was an aureole. What was
it it reminded him of? A fragment of a half-forgotten poem came to his
mind, although he was not given to remembering such things:
"Sandalphon the angel of glory,
Sandalphon the angel of prayer."
Then he almost laughed aloud at the comparison, for a dazzling flash of
light, blinding him for an instant, was reflected into his eyes from the
object she carried, and he saw that it was a looking-glass that she was
taking up the ladder with such care.
"What a very human and very feminine angel of glory it is," he
thought. But the next instant, still with the amused smile on his face,
he was spurring his horse down the road as fast as it could gallop. The
girl on the ladder had caught sight of his reflection in the mirror as
she reached up to lay it on the window sill, and had turned a startled
face towards him. Not for worlds would he have had her know that he had
been so discourteous as to sit staring at her. He had forgotten himself
in the interest of the moment.
Eager to find out who the new tenants were at the Lindsey Cabin, he rode
rapidly on, turning from the woodland road into a maple-lined avenue
leading back to the post-office. Just as he made the turn another
surprise confronted him. He almost collided with two girls who were
hurrying along arm in arm, under a red parasol.
Both Lloyd Sherman and Kitty Walton were old friends of his, but he had
to look twice to assure himself that he saw aright. They had been away
at school all year, and he had not heard of their return.
"I thought you were still at Warwick Hall!" he exclaimed, dismounting
and stepping forward with bared head, to shake hands in his most cordial
way. "When did you get home?"
"Only this mawning," answered Lloyd. "All the Commencement exercises
were ovah last Thursday, and we're school girls no longah. '_Beyond, the
Alps lies Italy!_' Kitty can tell you all about it, for she had the
Valedictory."
Kitty met Alex's amused smile with a flash of her black eyes, but before
she could deny having used the trite subject that had been so popular in
the old Lloydsboro seminary as to have become a standing joke, Alex
answered, "Well, you've certainly lost no time in starting out to
explore the wide world that lies before you. I've always heard that
there's nothing to equal the zeal of a sweet girl graduate about to
scale her Alps. You've barely reached home, haven't been off the cars
three hours, I'll bet, and yet here you are on the war-path again. What
Italy are you climbing after now?"
Ordinarily his banter would have been promptly resented by both girls,
but now it served only to recall the amazing news that had sent them
hurrying away from the post-office on an excited quest. With a dramatic
gesture, Kitty drew a letter from her belt and held it out to him.
"Think of it!" she exclaimed, her cheeks pink with excitement. "Gay
Melville's here in the Valley! Right here in Lloydsboro! Settled in the
Lindsey Cabin for the summer, and we didn't know anything about it till
ten minutes ago."
"Gay Melville," repeated Alex, instantly alert at mention of the cabin.
"Oh he doesn't know her, Kitty," interposed Lloyd. "He wasn't out in the
Valley the wintah she spent her Christmas vacation with you."
"Then you've something to live for!" declared Kitty with emphasis.
"She's one of the old Warwick Hall girls. Was in last year's class with
Allison and Betty, and she's just the sweetest, dearest--"
"Don't tell him any moah," interrupted Lloyd. "Let him find out for
himself."
"What's she doing at the Lindsey Cabin?" he asked. He kept a straight
face, although inwardly chuckling over the fact that he knew well enough
what she was doing, at least what she had been doing three minutes ago.
"They've taken it for the summer, that is, her sister Lucy and husband
have, Mr. and Mrs. Jameson Harcourt. They're from San Antonio, and you
know the Lindseys spend their winters there. It seems they interested
Mr. Harcourt in the Cabin, and of course Gay was wild to get back to
the Valley, and she persuaded them to come. She wrote to me just as soon
as it was decided, but the letter never reached me till this morning.
She thought I would get it before I started home; but it's just like Gay
to mix up her address with mine. She was so excited when she wrote that
she addressed it to Warwick Hall Station, Texas, instead of District of
Columbia. It has been travelling all over the country, and it's a wonder
that it ever reached me at all."
"And the worst of it is," added Lloyd, "of co'se she expected we'd all
be heah to meet her. But we stayed ovah in Washington two days, and when
they came in last night there wasn't a soul at the station to welcome
them. The ticket agent told me about it just now as we came past. She
seemed surprised, he said, and disappointed. She must have thought it
queah that none of us were there."
"Won't she be funny when she's found what a mistake she's made!"
exclaimed Kitty. "She's always making mistakes, and is always perfectly
ridiculous over them when she finds it out. We're going to take you to
call on her, Alex, just as soon as they're settled. She plays the violin
divinely."
"I'll go right back with you now," he offered promptly.
"No you won't," they cried in the same breath, and Kitty explained, "No
telling what sort of a mess they'll be in with their unpacking. But if
they're ready to see company by night, I'll telephone to you, and we'll
all go over."
"I shall live only for that moment," he declared, laughing, then added
as he turned to mount his horse, "I'm mighty glad I met you, and I'm
more than glad that you've both come home to stay."
A flourish of the red parasol answered the courtly sweep of his hat as
they parted. He rode on rapidly towards the post-office, wondering if
they would find the girlish, white-clad figure still perched on the
ladder, up among the roses, with the sun making an aureole of her
shining hair. He had never seen such hair. "Sandalphon, the angel of
glory"--but the quotation broke off with a laugh. Her name was Gay, and
it was a looking glass that she was carrying up the ladder. "Well, she's
an original little thing," he mused, "and if she lives up to her name
the Lindsey Cabin will be just as lively a social centre as if the Van
Allen girls had possession."
The encounter with Alex had delayed the girls but a moment or two, still
they walked on faster than ever to make up the lost time.
"What do you suppose we'll find her doing?" queried Lloyd.
"Something unexpected, I'll be bound," was the answer. "Will you ever
forget that first time we saw her, when she came out to play the violin
at the Freshman reception? Such a pretty white dress, and that rapt,
uplifted look on her face that makes you think of St. Cecilias and
seraphim, and with one foot in a white kid shoe, and the other in that
awful old red felt bedroom slipper, edged in black fur!"
"Or the time she lost her belt in Washington," suggested Lloyd.
"Probably we'll find her unpacking if the trunks came. But Gay's trunks
nevah were known to arrive on time. We may have to be lending her
shirtwaists and collahs for a month."
By this time they had reached the rustic footbridge leading over a
ravine to the Cabin, and were in full view of the front windows. Gay was
still on the ladder. She had made several trips up and down it since
Alex passed. It was hard to decide at what angle to hang the mirror on
the window casing, as she had seen them in old Dutch houses in Holland;
and in marking the place with the point of the only nail that she had
provided on which to hang the mirror, she dropped the nail. Several
minutes had been wasted in a fruitless search for it. Others were to be
had for the pulling, if one could extract them from the empty
packing-boxes, but no hammer could be found on the premises, and it was
only after much twisting and struggling that the little coloured girl
finally managed to pull one with her teeth.
Another five minutes had been wasted in searching for something with
which to drive the nail. Then Gay gingerly ascended the ladder again,
armed with a pair of heavy old tongs, taken from the porch fireplace.
She had just reached the top of the ladder when the girls caught sight
of her.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Kitty in a low tone. "It'll never do in the world to
appear at _this_ juncture. She's pretty sure to drop through the ladder
anyhow, or upset herself, or have some exhibition of the usual Melville
luck, even if she's left to herself. And if she should suddenly discover
us there's no telling what dreadful thing might happen."
"Let's slip up behind the arbour and watch till she's safely down to
earth," whispered Lloyd. "What _do_ you suppose she's trying to do, and
where do you suppose she managed to pick up Ca'line Allison?"
"Sh!" was the answer. "That's the Dutch mirror she got in Amsterdam
last summer. She wrote that it was the triumph of her life when she got
home with it whole. She carried it all the way, instead of packing it in
her trunk. Listen! What's that she's saying?"
The words floated down to them distinctly. "Ca'line Allison, you'll have
to get me something besides these tongs to drive this nail with. I might
as well try to do it with a pair of stilts. Besides it's making dents in
them, and it's wicked to spoil such beautiful old brasses. Mercy! Don't
get up _yet_!" she shrieked wildly, as the shifting of Ca'line Allison's
small body made the ladder slip a trifle.
"Wait till I poke these tongs through the window and take hold with both
hands. Now! Hunt around and find me a stone or a piece of brick."
The girls behind the arbour could not see her face, but the sight of the
familiar little figure clinging to the ladder, and the sound of the
beloved voice made them long to rush out and squeeze her.
"Isn't her hair a glory, up there in the sunshine?" whispered Kitty.
"The idea of anybody calling it plain red--such a fluff of bronzy auburn
with all those little crinkles of gold! And listen to that whistle!
You'd think it was a real mocking bird."
Wholly unconscious of her audience, Gay teetered on the ladder,
whistling and trilling like a happy bobolink, until the little black
girl climbed up after her with a brick which she had dug out from the
well curb. The girls waited until the nail was securely in place, the
mirror hung and Gay had begun to crawl down the ladder backward, before
they rushed out from their hiding-place.
They pounced upon her just as she reached the bottom round, and then
ensued what Kitty called a pow-wow--an enthusiastic welcome known only
to old school chums who have been separated so long a time as a whole
twelvemonth. Questions, answers, explanations, a bubbling over of
delight at once more being together, kept them talking all at once for
nearly ten minutes. Then Gay, remembering her duty as hostess led the
way into the house.
"Come in and see Lucy and her fond spouse," she exclaimed. "They're
still at breakfast although it's ten o'clock. None of us could make a
fire in the range. It simply wouldn't burn. But we had brought a chafing
dish in one of the boxes, and we found another in the pantry, and
they've been mussing around for the last two hours with them, having the
time of their lives. Lucy made fudge and omelette and tea for her
breakfast, being the things she knows best how to make, and brother
Jameson is trying flap-jacks and coffee."
"What did you have?" asked Lloyd.
"I? Oh I emulated the example of 'The old person of Crewd' who said
"'We use sawdust for food.
It's cheap by the ton
And it nourishes one,
And that's the main object of food.'
I munched a handful of some sort of new breakfast straw, but it wasn't
very satisfying, and I was just going in to get a cup of brother
Jameson's coffee. I told him to put my name in the pot. Come on in and
have some too."
Throwing open the dining-room door she began a series of breezy
introductions that set them all to laughing and swept away every vestige
of formality.
Both Lloyd and Kitty protested against taking a single mouthful at that
hour, but the young host poured out a cup of very muddy coffee with such
a beaming smile, and the little bride offered a very bitter cup of tea
in competition, with a merry insistence so like Gay's, that they could
not refuse.
"It's going to be lovely," Kitty managed to whisper under cover of the
bustle of bringing in more hot water. "They're almost as harum-scarum
and hap-hazard as Gay herself, and 'brother Jameson' looks as if he
might be the 'Gibson man's' youngest brother."
"These 'babes in the wood' would have perished but for me," began Gay,
who was rattling along as if she were wound up. "_I_ was the robin who
came to the rescue. I went over to Stumptown bright and early--you see I
remembered the short cut through the woods--and as luck would have it,
found some one willing to come, at the very first house where I
inquired. (But she can't come till nearly noon, hence this disorderly
feasting and rioting.) Ca'line Allison was swinging on the gate, with
her finger in her mouth. I didn't know her, but she remembered me, and
complimented me by asking if I'd done brought my fiddle along. I think
I'll engage her for the summer for my little maid-in-waiting. She's as
quick as a monkey and would look so cunning diked up in a cap and apron.
What's that rhyme Betty made about her when she was flower-girl at her
own mother's wedding? Oh by the way, where _is_ Betty? Why didn't she
come with you?"
"For the good reason that we didn't know we were coming heah ourselves
when we left home," answered Lloyd. "Betty went on to Commencement with
all the rest of the family, but it was hard for her to tear herself away
from her beloved writing. We hadn't been back at Locust half an houah
this mawning till she was at it again."
"Betty is Mrs. Sherman's god-daughter," explained Gay in an aside to her
brother-in-law. "The one who I told you is such a genius. She's writing
a book." Then turning to Lloyd. "It isn't that same old one she was at
work on at school, is it?"
"No, it's something she began last fall. Mothah wanted her to make her
debut in Louisville when she was through school, just as I am going to
do next wintah, but Betty begged to be allowed to stay in the country.
She said she'd nevah be a brilliant success socially, but that she'd do
her best to be a credit to the family in some other way."
"She will, too," prophesied Gay. "Some day we'll all be proud of the
little song-bird you rescued from the Cuckoo's Nest. Dear old Betty! I'd
like to hug her this very minute."
The grandfather's clock in the hall was striking eleven when they rose
from the table, but Gay would not listen when the girls attempted to
take their leave. "You haven't seen my room," she insisted, "nor my
mirror. Come on up stairs and look into my mirror. It's the joy of my
heart, and maybe we'll all see our fate in it. I like to pretend that
it's a sort of magic glass--that some wizard of the wood has laid a
spell on it, so that at certain times all the figures that have ever
been reflected in it must march across it again. Wouldn't it be lovely
if all the good times it is going to reflect this summer could be made
to pass over it again whenever I wanted to recall them?"
"We'd lead the procession," announced Kitty, "for we were the first
objects that crossed the path after you got it hung. If we were not 'a
group of damsels glad' we were at least a couple of them."
"But you were not the first," confessed Gay. "Just as I held it up to
adjust it, I had such a thrillingly romantic experience that I nearly
fell off the ladder. It showed me the reflection of an awfully good
looking young man on horse-back. But when I turned to look over my
shoulder at the original he was galloping down the road like a blue
streak."
"I wondah who it could have been," mused Lloyd. "We met Alex Shelby on
hawseback just a few minutes befoah we got heah, but he nevah said a
word about having seen anybody, and he seemed surprised when we told him
that the cabin had been rented."
They were up in Gay's room now, and running to the window, Kitty seated
herself in the low chair beside it. "Oh how fine!" she called. "It's at
exactly the right angle, for I can see everything along the path without
looking out. It'll be a sort of Hildegarde's mirror, won't it! Like the
Lady of Shalott's."
Half under her breath she began to recite the lines they had learned so
long ago, and from force of habit Lloyd joined the sing-song chant:
"And moving through the mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear."
Smiling to see how well they remembered it, they went on in unison down
to the couplet:
"And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two by two."
There Kitty broke off to say "I don't see how that can happen here
_this_ summer. It will be sheer luck if they come even in singles. There
never were so few boys left in the Valley, and it's too bad to have it
happen so the summer that you're here. Nearly everybody is going away.
You can count on the fingers of one hand the few who will stay."
"What about the two knights of Kentucky?" asked Gay. "You're a lucky
girl, Kitty, to have two such splendid cousins as Keith and Malcolm
MacIntyre."
"They are already gone. They sailed for England with Uncle Sydney and
Aunt Elise last week. You know I wrote you they were going and that
Allison was to be in the party too. And oh Gay! Didn't you get that
letter? Then you haven't heard the most important thing of all! _Allison
is engaged!_ It didn't happen till a few days before they sailed, and it
isn't announced yet, but of course she wanted you to know and I wrote to
you right away."
Gay bounced out of her chair as if a bomb exploded in the room.
"Oh you don't mean it!" she cried tragically, clasping her hands. "Why
she's only been out of school a year! The first of our class to go! Oh
tell me all about it! Begin at the beginning and don't skip a thing!"
Throwing herself down on the floor at Kitty's feet, she propped her chin
on her hands, and her elbows in Kitty's lap, prepared to listen.
"There isn't much to tell. You know the fortune that Mammy Easter
predicted for her was nice, but it wasn't very exciting. She was to 'wed
wid de quality and ride in her ca'iage.' Well, his family is certainly
quality, the Claibornes of Virginia, and she'll live in Washington and
have several kinds of carriages. Isn't it odd? We knew him when he was
just a boy. He was on the same transport with us when we went to the
Philippines, and we never imagined then that we'd ever see him again."
"But I thought that that young Lieutenant Logan," began Gay.
Kitty interrupted her with a laugh. "Why my dear, he is a mere _child_
compared to Raleigh Claiborne. That little affair was the mere A. B. C.
of romance. He's paying attention to our youngest now. He sends music
and bon bons to _Elise_."
"Think of Elise being old enough to receive such attentions!" groaned
Gay. "It makes me feel like a patriarch. But never mind my hoary
sensations, go on and tell me some more. She's going to get her
trousseau abroad I suppose."
"Only part of it, for the wedding isn't to take place for a year.
Allison didn't care much about going--thought she'd rather wait and take
the trip with Raleigh. But he is so busy it may be several years before
he can get off for a whole summer, and Aunt Elise persuaded her to go
with them. She said it wouldn't be so easy for her to go when she once
assumed the responsibility of a big establishment."
Gay clasped her hands around her knees and rocked herself back and forth
on the floor.
"I'm glad she's sensible enough to wait a year," she declared. "I don't
see why girls are in such a hurry to tie themselves up in a knot. I
suppose it's perfectly fascinating to be engaged and to have the
choosing of a lovely trousseau, and the opening of all the wedding
presents. Everybody takes so much interest in a prospective bride. But
the fun comes to an end so quickly. It's like Fourth of July fire works.
There's a big blaze and excitement while it lasts. Then it's all over
and they settle down to be just prosy common-place married people. I
should think that the reaction would be deadly, and that if a girl could
see past the time of the rocket's shooting up, and realize that it can't
stay among the stars, but must fall to earth again with a dull thud,
she'd profit by other people's experiences, and not give up all the good
times of her girlhood before she'd half enjoyed them."
Gay spoke so feelingly that her two listeners exchanged glances of
surprise. This was not the way Gay had been wont to talk a year ago, and
each wondered to herself if Lucy's marriage had caused this radical
change in her opinion.
Suddenly she changed the subject, with the unexpectedness of a
grasshopper's leap. "Which one of you girls is going to stay all night
with me?"
Kitty answered first. "Neither of us ought to, for we've only just
returned to the bosom of our families. You could hardly call us entirely
arrived yet, for our trunks haven't come."
Lloyd started up, and looked at her watch in alarm. "It's a good thing
you reminded me that I have a home," she laughed. "I told mothah I'd
just stroll down to the post-office and be right back, and when I met
Kitty with yoah lettah it drove everything else out of my head. She'll
be wondering what has happened to me. I'll come some night next week and
be glad to."
"No, one of you has to come back and stay with me _to-night_," Gay
insisted. "So settle it between yourselves. You may as well draw straws
to decide which is to be my victim." Then, glancing around the room--"I
don't happen to see any straws at hand, but you might pull hairs for
the honour. Here! My head is at your service, ladies."
Dropping to her knees she made a profound salaam, and waited for them to
draw. "The one who pulls the shortest hair comes back."
Laughing over the absurd manner of deciding such a matter, each girl
reached out and plucked a hair by its roots, so vigorously that the pull
was followed by a long drawn "ouch!"
"Mine's the shortest," giggled Lloyd, comparing it with the one that
Kitty held up. "But I'm suah my family will object if I propose leaving
them the very first night of my arrival, aftah I've been away at school
all yeah."
"Don't leave them then," said Gay. "Bring them all over here to spend
the evening. I'm wild for Lucy and brother Jameson to meet them as soon
as possible. Then when bedtime comes let them leave you. Tell them that
Kitty is going to bring all her family, and that everybody in the valley
who is anybody is coming to the Harcourt's Housewarming to-night at the
'Cabin in the Wood.'"
Kitty began unfurling her red parasol. "That certainly sounds alluring.
You can count on all my family, especially Ranald, and I'll go straight
home and telephone to Alex Shelby."
"Who may he be?" inquired Gay, scrambling up from the floor, to follow
her guests down stairs.
Kitty began an enthusiastic description of him, which Lloyd cut short
with the laughing remark, "Go look in your little Dutch mirror. I'm not
positive, but I _think_ he's yoah first 'Knight of the Looking-glass.'"