Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore Part 20

It was a jolly party that took the train for Glenmore on Sat.u.r.day morning. Rob had taken them to the station, bought a a box of candy for each, and waited until the last moment to leave the train.

"If Miss Fenler has been watching Patricia this week she has been busy,"

said Elf, when they had settled themselves for the long ride.

"She could easily watch Arabella, she is so slow," Dorothy said.

It happened that Mrs. Marvin had told Miss Fenler to closely watch both girls who had chosen to spend the week's vacation at the school.

School without lessons would be fine, they thought.

"I think Arabella Correyville, if she were here alone, would be very little care, but Patricia Levine is as full of queer notions as any girl could be, and she plans the oddest mischief, and then drags slow little Arabella into it. Patricia never tries to help her out, and she invariably laughs if Arabella is caught.

"Arabella is so slow that she really doesn't know that Patricia rules her, while Patricia rules, and laughs at Arabella for obeying.

"I promise to watch them, and I am likely to be more closely employed than during a regular school session," Miss Fenler said in reply.

The first day pa.s.sed without any especial happening, but the next day the two set out for a walk, soon after breakfast, and did not return until just before six.

"You were not here at one o'clock for lunch," Miss Fenler said. "Where were you?"

"I lunched with a friend," said Patricia, and Arabella drawled, "So did I."

"I did not know that you had friends here in town," Miss Fenler said, in surprise. They were, of course friends, and they had lunched together.

What they had said had been true, but surely not honest.

Arabella stared stupidly at Miss Fenler, and Patricia imitated her stolid friend, too. It was easier to look dull than to answer more questions.

On the third day Mrs. Marvin was absolutely amazed to glance toward her window just in time to see Patricia entering the house with a cat in her arms.

Questioned as to where she obtained the cat she said that a boy gave it to her, that she didn't know his name, or where he lived.

"Where do you expect to keep it?" asked Miss Fenler, who had been sent to meet her.

"I thought I could keep her in the little shed that's next to the kitchen, and then Judy could feed her," was the answer, given as confidently as if the whole matter were settled.

Mrs. Marvin came out into the hall in time to hear what Patricia said.

"I think we can arrange to let puss remain if she is to be under Judy's care," she said, "for only yesterday she told me that the mice are becoming very bold, and they are too wise to go into the traps that she sets."

A sound of falling pans, flat-irons, and other kitchen utensils made them start. Patricia clung to the cat, although it was making desperate efforts to get away.

"Ow-oo-o! O ma.s.sy sakes! Yow-hoo!" shouted Judy as she burst the door open, and tore out into the hall.

"Dem mices'll kill me yit, I do b'liebe!" she yelled. "De windows, an'

do's is shet, an' dey's prancin' on de kitchen' flo. Oh-oo!"

"Hush, Judy, hush!" Mrs. Marvin said. "We've a cat with us, and she is just in time."

"I sho' won't go nigh dat kitchen wid no cat, nor nuffin' else," Judy said, her eyes rolling in terror.

"Pooh!" cried Patricia, "I'd be glad to put her out there before I get any more scratches," and going to the end of the hall, she opened the door, and dropped puss on the floor.

In less time than it takes to tell it the cat had caught the two tiny mice, that had been far more afraid of the big colored woman, than she had been of them, and that is saying a great deal.

Patricia was never inclined to be in any way obliging. She was one of those unpleasant girls who find no joy in being kind or helpful.

Whatever she did, was done wholly for her own sake, and Judy eyed her with suspicion when she saw how promptly she took the big cat to the kitchen.

Having given the cat over to the care of Judy, Patricia raced up the stairway to her room.

Judy rolled her eyes to look after her.

"Wha' fo' she done dat?" she asked of Miss Fenler, who stood near her.

"Wha' fo'? I axes. Dat ar young miss done bring dat cat home ter hab in her room fo' a pet. How happen her to gib it up ter Judy?"

"Nonsense, Judy. She knows, as all the pupils know, that it is a fixed rule at Glenmore, that no pupil can have a pet in her room."

"All de same, Miss Patrichy _meant_ dat cat ter be up in her room, long o' dat ar _Carbale_ gal."

Judy never could get Arabella's name correctly. Sometimes it was "Carbale," then it was "_Corbille_," but never once had she managed to call it Correyville.

"Well, the cat is in the kitchen now, and you must look out for her.

Keep her in for a few days until she feels that this is home, and then she will stay," Miss Fenler said, and returned to her account-books.

Thursday the two girls were in their room all day, reading, and devouring a "treat" that Patricia had smuggled in. It was much the same menu that Patricia usually chose, without a thought as to how the different things would combine.

Who but Patricia Levine would ever think of eating ice-cream, and big green pickles at the same time?

The reason that she would have given for eating them at the same time would have been that she liked both.

They ate the papers of ice-cream first before it could melt, and then, each took a huge green pickle, and a favorite book, and settled down to read.

When the lunch hour arrived, Patricia felt a bit "queer," while Arabella felt decidedly "queerer."

Neither cared to eat, but they dared not stay away from the dining-room, so both went down to the table, but they made only a pretense of eating.

Early in the afternoon both felt hungry. Patricia rushed to the closet, and returned with some chocolate eclaires, and a bottle of olives.

"I'll eat an eclaire," said Arabella, "but maybe I'd better not eat olives with it."

"Well, of all things!" cried Patricia. "Let me tell you what you don't know. eclaires and olives just _b'long_ together. Don't act funny, Arabella."

Arabella, always afraid of being laughed at, ate not only one eclaire, but two, and a dozen olives, as well.

During the afternoon, they ate four crullers, two pickled limes, two ham sandwiches, and a pound of fudge.

Patricia could eat anything, and any amount of food without any ill effect, but Arabella was really sick when the hour for dinner arrived.