A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays Part 3

"No, he is just taking us to his house where we are going to make a visit."

"Is he any relation to you?" came next.

"No relation at all. He is the father of the friend we are going to visit." It was Dorothy's turn this time.

"And do your mothers approve of your going off this way without a member of your family?"

This question the children thought a very disagreeable one. They looked at one another before Dorothy made reply. "If it wasn't exactly right our parents wouldn't let us do it. They never let us do a thing that isn't exactly right."

"And n.o.body knows what is right so well as my mother," Edna chimed in.

"Mine, too," put in Dorothy.

"How far did you say you were going?" asked their questioner.

"We didn't say," answered Dorothy, "but we are going to New York."

She gave a little frown to Edna, who understood that she was not to vouchsafe any further information. "I just wasn't going to tell her where we were really going from New York," Dorothy said to her friend afterward. "It wasn't any of her business."

"New York is a very wicked city," their acquaintance informed them.

"You must be very careful not to be alone in the streets. I would advise you never to lose sight of your escort for a moment."

Both little girls felt rather glad that they were not to remain in such a dreadful place, but they made no reply and wished most heartily that Mr. Ramsey would return to his seat and rid them of this undesirable companion. Presently Edna had a bright idea. "Would you like to look at some of our papers?" she asked.

"What have you?" asked the lady putting up her lorgnette.

"We have Life and Puck and Judge and--"

"I'll take Life and Puck." She accepted the papers handed to her and settled back in the seat she had behind them. The two children looked at each other with relieved expressions. "Don't you wish Mr. Ramsey would come back?" whispered Edna.

"Yes, but where will he sit?" Dorothy whispered back. They both smothered a giggle at this, and looking up Edna caught sight of the pretty young lady looking at them with an amused expression. She made a little movement with her hand to beckon Edna over to her.

"Is that old turtle quizzing you?" she asked in a low tone. "She is a perfect bore. She tackled me first but I wouldn't talk to her. Are you wondering if she is going to take that seat and keep it?"

"We were wondering what Mr. Ramsey would do," returned Edna.

"I'll tell you what to do; you take her seat and see what will happen.

It is just here in front of me."

Edna took possession and in a few moments the inquisitive lady looked up and saw her there. She at once hurried over, dropping the papers by the way. "Here here," she cried, "what are you doing in my seat? You must get right up. All my things are here, and I don't want anyone to meddle with them. Get right up."

Edna arose with alacrity while the pretty young lady leaned over and said: "I asked her to sit there while you occupied her friend's seat.

I wanted to talk to her, too. It is a poor rule that doesn't work both ways, you know."

The inquisitive lady gave the speaker a withering look and sank to her place with an air of great dignity while Edna returned to her place by Dorothy. In a few minutes Mr. Ramsey returned and both children gave a sigh of relief, though both kept wondering what would have happened if he had found someone in his place, and what more would have happened if he had taken the place the lady now occupied. They soon forgot all this, however, for Mr. Ramsey began to talk to them about the place to which they were going and before they knew it they had reached New York. The pretty young lady gave them a nod and a smile as she pa.s.sed out, but the inquisitive lady did not look their way at all though she still retained the copy of Life they had lent her.

A taxi-cab whirled them up-town to the hotel where they were to lunch.

Mr. Ramsey sent them upstairs to a pretty room, in charge of a neat maid who tidied them up and then took them down to the dining-room where Mr. Ramsey was already seated waiting for them. They felt very grand to be in so fine a place lunching with a gentleman quite like grown-up young ladies, and both wished their sisters could see them.

Lunch over, Mr. Ramsey took them to a large reception room where he stationed them at a window so they could look out on the street. "I think you will be entertained here," he said. "I am obliged to meet a business appointment, but I will be back as soon as I can. In the meantime amuse yourselves as you like, but don't leave the hotel. Here is the key of your room. The elevator boy or one of the chambermaids will show you where it is, if you would rather go there. I am glad there are two of you, for you can't be lonesome with one another.

Good-bye." He was off and the two little girls, feeling that they were very small frogs in an immense puddle, sat by the window looking out on the street. Although it was not so warm as it had been earlier in the week, still it was warm enough, and the pa.s.sers-by looked hot and tired, and after a while the two little girls wearied at looking at the constant stream of people.

"Let's go upstairs," suggested Dorothy.

"All right. Let's," returned Edna.

But just as they were standing timidly looking up and down the corridor trying to determine in which direction to go to find the elevator, a man wearing many bra.s.s b.u.t.tons on his coat, came up to them. "Are you the young ladies in Number 136?" he asked.

Dorothy looked at the key she was holding and on its wooden tag she read the number 136. "Yes, that is the number," she told the man.

"Then here's something that's come for you," he said holding out two packages. "I knocked at your door, but you wasn't there, and the chambermaid said you might be in here."

The children thanked him and looked at the packages which were quite distinctly marked with their names and the number of their room as well as with the name of the hotel. They inquired their way to the elevator and had soon closed the door of their room after them.

"I'd a great deal rather be in here to ourselves," said Edna, "so we can do just what we like. You open one package, Dorothy, and I will open the other. Do you suppose Mr. Ramsey sent them?"

"Of course, because no one else knows where we are. Isn't it funny, Edna, to think that even our mothers don't know where we are? Do hurry and open your package. Mine isn't tied, and I know what it is but I don't want to tell till you have yours ready."

"This is such a heavy string," said Edna fumbling at the knot. "If I had a knife I would cut it, but I think I know what this is; it is a book, I am sure." After much to-do they managed to unfasten the package to disclose a new book of fairy tales.

"How perfectly lovely!" cried Dorothy. And, "I have wanted to read those ever since I took a peep at them one day when we were at Helen Darby's."

"Now we'll look at the other package," said Dorothy, slowly unfolding the paper which enclosed this.

The second package was found to contain two paper-dolls and two puzzles. After the paper-dolls were duly admired they were laid aside.

"For," said Dorothy, "we haven't any scissors, so we can't cut out their frocks."

"I think it was perfectly lovely of Mr. Ramsey to think of getting such nice things," said Edna warmly.

"I suppose he thought we might get lonely if he stayed so long away.

What would you do, Edna, if something happened that he didn't ever come back?"

Edna considered for awhile before she answered: "I'd send a telegram to papa to come and get us."

"It would be better to telephone," returned Dorothy. "We could use the long-distance 'phone and tell them all about it."

"So we could. I didn't think of that. We could stay right here and not leave the hotel at all, because that woman said it wouldn't do for us to go alone in the streets of New York."

But such an emergency did not arise, though as the afternoon wore on, the little girls began to get somewhat anxious. They read several of the fairy tales; they worked over their puzzles; they watched from the windows, and finally decided to put on their hats and pack up such of their belongings as they had taken from their satchels so they might be all ready. The new book and other gifts were stowed away, too, and this was hardly done before there came a quick knock at the door, and it was opened to Mr. Ramsey himself.

"You're all ready?" he cried. "Good! Come right along as fast as you can."

A boy had already s.n.a.t.c.hed up their hand-bags and was hurrying off with them. Mr. Ramsey rushed them along the hall and into the elevator, then they were hurried into a taxi-cab which stood waiting and off they went.

As soon as they had started, Mr. Ramsey looked at his watch. "It's a close shave, but I think we can make it," he said. Then he leaned over to speak to the driver. "Get us to the Fall River boat in time and you shall have an extra tip," he said.

So through the crowded streets, worming their way among lines of heavy teams, across car-tracks, and into queer-looking neighborhoods they were taken, arriving just in time to be taken on board the boat before she should move off.

It was all very exciting, but not unpleasant, for they felt quite safe with Mr. Ramsey. He smiled down at them as he led the way to the deck.

"We did make it, didn't we?" he said. "If you children had not been all ready we should have been goners."