A GREAT SURPRISE
The girls all admitted that it was the very strangest thing that could
possibly have happened! The Hall did not seem like itself. The students
stood around in groups and talked about it. The reckless ones took
advantage of it and did almost as they pleased. The more conscientious
pupils said: "We must help Dr. Beulah all we can by being particularly
good just now." The younger pupils went past a certain closed door
behind the main stairway on the first floor on their tiptoes and with
hushed voices.
For four whole days nobody saw Mrs. Cupp about Lakeview Hall!
The girls were told that private business had called her away. But some
of the older ones, especially friends of Nan and Bess, knew that it was
Miss Vane's business, and not the matron's that had called the latter
away. Mr. Mason had gone into court on behalf of young Hiram Pease, made
the town farm authorities show cause why they had ever bound the boy out
to Miss Vane, the village milliner, and made rather pointed inquiries as
to what had become of the legacy that Hiram's great uncle had left him.
In the end the local paper told all about it. And, really, there was
nothing in the story to hurt Mrs. Cupp's reputation, and the only fact
brought out in the testimony against Miss Vane was that the maiden lady
had not understood boys, and had been so harsh to Hiram that he had run
away and for more than six months had haunted the old boathouse below
Lakeview Hall, living precariously on what he could pilfer here and
there.
In the end, Hiram's affairs were straightened out and a kindly clergyman
was made guardian of the boy during his minority. He was to have an
education and a chance to be like other boys. Mrs. Cupp came back to her
duties as grim as ever, and nobody dared to question her about it, least
of all any of the girls.
The Christmas holidays were approaching, and Grace Mason brought an
invitation from her mother for Nan Sherwood and Bess Harley to spend a
portion of the vacation at the Mason home in Chicago. Bess accepted
eagerly, for the Masons were very delightful people, and an invitation
to their town house was a compliment indeed.
Nan, however, answered no. "I am sure I cannot do it, Gracie," she said,
over and over again. "I have to meet my father and mother when they come
back from Scotland, and go home to Tillbury with them. And--and my
school days are quite, quite ended. I shall have to begin to think of
more serious things."
She would give Walter no more satisfaction, either. Even when Mrs. Mason
wrote a personal note to Nan, repeating the invitation, the girl could
only write in return that she saw no possibility of circumstances
allowing her to be with her friends in Chicago during the holidays.
This only goes to show how little we really know in this world of what
is to happen to us, even in the immediate future; for if the reader
cares to learn what actually happened to Nan and her friends that very
vacation at the Mason city home, she need only read the next volume of
this series, entitled: "Nan Sherwood's Winter Holidays; Or, Rescuing the
Runaways."
How such a change came about in Nan's plans and circumstances, was a
great surprise, indeed.
The end of the term was in sight. Nan had caught up in her missed
studies and her standing was very satisfactory, indeed. Dr. Prescott had
praised her for her record.
"I shall be as sorry to lose you, my dear, as any pupil I ever had,"
declared the preceptress. "And I still hope that some way may be found
to make possible the continuation of your course here at the Hall."
That had pleased Nan immensely; but she had no hope of the principal's
wish coming true. She tried to keep her record high to the very last
day, not even neglecting Professor Krenner's lectures upon architectural
drawing.
Amelia and Nan attended the last of these one afternoon at the
professor's cabin, up the lake shore. They skated up the cove to the
strait behind the Isle of Hope. In warm weather the girls sometimes went
picnicking to the Isle of Hope. It was a rocky eminence thrust out of
the lake, half a mile off the mainland.
Professor Krenner's cabin was a very cozy place--a single big room, with
a fireplace at either end in which the flames now leaped ruddily among
the birch sticks, and with a corner cut off with Navajo blankets for a
bedroom. One side wall was hung with the professor's drawings; the one
opposite with many cured skins of birds and beasts, for the professor
was a taxidermist.
When the work of the architectural drawing class was over, Professor
Krenner took his silver bugle down from the wall and went outside with
the girls to wake the echoes on the Isle of Hope. He had just lifted the
bugle to his lips and sent the first call ringing across the ice:
Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! Ta-_rat_! when Amelia seized Nan by the arm
and cried:
"Oh! who's coming?"
They all looked down the strait. A figure in a red cap was dashing up
the ice at great speed, and waving a tippet in a most excited manner.
"Why!" gasped Nan. "It's Bess!"
They went down to the shore to meet Nan's chum. Bess rushed up to them
and threw herself into Nan's arms.
"Guess! Guess what's happened, Nan Sherwood!" she fairly shrieked.
"I--I couldn't," gasped Nan, actually turning pale.
"You've got to! You've got to guess! It's the very wonderfulest
thing----"
"'Wonderfulest'?" murmured "Procrastination Boggs." "That's a new one.
I'm going to look it up."
"I couldn't guess, Bess," said Nan again, weakly.
"You haven't got to leave Lakeview Hall!" cried the delighted Bess. "You
are coming back next term!"
Nan's color came back. She sighed and wiped her eyes. But she shook her
head slowly. "No, dear, I told you before I could not accept your
father's help. It would not be right," said Nan.
"Oh, nonsense! Who said anything about that?" demanded Bess, in disgust.
"I heard 'em talking about it! Things are all right! Your folks have got
some money after all! And they sent me after you!"
"Who sent you after me?" suddenly cried Nan, seizing the reckless and
excited Bess by the shoulders.
"Oh! oh! ouch! Dr. Beulah, of course!"
"What for?" demanded Nan, exasperated, and fairly shaking her.
"Why----Oh! didn't I tell you? Nan _dear_! Your father! And your mother!
They have just arrived from Scotland, and they are waiting for you now
in Dr. Beulah's office!"
* * * * *
Joy never kills--that is sure. But when she was folded in "Momsey's"
arms, and "Papa Sherwood" stood by waiting his turn to hug his plucky
little daughter, Nan really thought her heart would burst, it beat so
hard.
It was not until later that she heard about the money, or cared to ask
about it. Her parents had settled their business in Scotland so suddenly
and had left for the United States so hurriedly, that they could send no
further news about the settlement of Hughie Blake's legacy.
Under the Scotch law, no matter how many times a man has been married or
how many children he has, he can will his personal property as he
pleases. The two women who claimed the Laird of Emberon's steward as
their parent could fight in the courts for possession of his real estate
only; and most of the wealth Hughie Blake had amassed was in
cash-in-bank.
Therefore Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood came home amply supplied with funds and
the possibility of poverty for the family retreated below the horizon
for the time being, at least.
Mr. Sherwood purposed going into business at once, and Nan could return
to Lakeview Hall at the opening of the succeeding term. Meanwhile the
present term came to a happy conclusion, and Nan and Bess looked forward
with gleeful expectation to their visit to Chicago immediately after
Christmas.
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
Obvious printer's errors were silently corrected.
Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation has been preserved.
End of Project Gutenberg's Nan Sherwood at Lakeview Hall, by Annie Roe Carr