Dorothy's Travels Part 10

Hers was from Jim Barlow, and full of news of the mountain and old friends there; saying, also, that he had been invited to join his tutor, the Rev. Mr. Sterling, who was sometimes called the "tramping parson,"

on a walking tour through the northern part of the Empire State. It was overflowing with enthusiasm over the places he would visit and the wonderful "good luck" which had so changed the life of the truck-farm lad; "and I mean to make the whole 'tramp' a part of my education. I tell you, Dolly girl, if there's much gets past me without my seeing and knowing it, it'll be when I'm asleep. Mr. Sterling's a geologist, and likes to take his vacation this way, so's he can find new stones, or hammer old ones to his heart's content.

"Whilst he's a hammering I'll be hunting things in the woods. I mean to make a regular list of every bird I see, and every animal, and study all their little habits and tricks. I'll carry some old newspapers and a book, too, so that if I come across any new kind of flower or plant I'll press it for you. That way my vacation'll be considerable of a help to you too.

"Try and learn all you can, Dorothy child, whilst you have the chance.

There's nothing so perfectly grand in all this world as learning things.

I've noticed you were getting a little flighty, along back, and setting more store by your clothes than you used to, or that a girl who'll have to teach for her living had ought to. Needn't get mad with me for reminding you. I can write it easier than I could say it to your face, some way; and amongst all the good times you're having don't forget to write to me once in a while, for we've been so like brother and sister this long time that I want to hear. So no more at present from your affectionate

"JAMES BARLOW.

"P. S.--I had a letter from Mrs. Cecil Somerset-Calvert. She wrote I was to call to Deerhurst and get Peter and Ponce, her two Great Danes, and take them with me on my tour. She'd already written to Mr. Sterling, because she knew he was a dog-lover, and he was pleased to have them on the trip. Good-by.

"JIM."

"Well, this changes our plans somewhat," remarked the Judge, looking up from one of his letters, with an expression of some disappointment. They had all paused outside the postoffice building to hastily scan their news, and now grouped about him in interest, as Mrs. Hungerford rather anxiously asked:

"Why, Schuyler, what's happened?"

"Oh! nothing unpleasant. Not at all. Only this is from Ihrie, and the boys will be on hand earlier than expected. So, to get around to all the places we want to see and yet be at our rendezvous in time we'll have to cut our stay here short. I wouldn't like to fail the boys."

"Not on any account!" exclaimed Aunt Lu, merrily; and then explaining to Miss Greatorex: "Let me tell you, Miss Isobel, that these 'boys' range anywhere from fifty to seventy-five years in age! and that one of them is a college president, another a world-famous surgeon, and the third an equally notable merchant. Old cla.s.s-mates under their president, whom it is their glory to have with them on these annual trips."

"Why, I--I think that is beautiful!" returned the teacher, with so much enthusiasm that the others reflected how she was "waking up."

"Beautiful," she added again, after a pause in which she had looked with new interest upon her own young pupils.

"Yes, we must get on. So let's plan our day the best we can, and take the evening express for Digby. How does this suit? To call a carriage and have you ladies driven all around, to 'do' Yarmouth as thoroughly as possible in so short a time. Don't wait dinner for me--for us. I have a visit to make which must not be postponed, since it concerns the interests of other people. I'll take the girls with me and give them a chance to see the inside of a Yarmouth cottage. Also, if we're invited, to taste a bit of native Yarmouth cookery. We'll get around back to the inn in time for collecting our traps and making the train. Eh?"

"Suits me well enough;" answered Mrs. Hungerford, and Miss Isobel nodded acquiescence, saying to the surprise of the others: "That descendant of 'Sealed Waters' might impart the most information of any driver, possibly."

"But--Molly! Why, Molly, what are you acting that way for?" demanded Dorothy, smiling at the antics of her mate. For the girl had hastily scanned two of her letters and having saved "the best to the last" was now prancing all over the sidewalk, waving the missive overhead and crying:

"Splendid! Splendid! SPLENDID!"

CHAPTER VII

FINNAN HADDIE IN A GARDEN

As Molly's excitement seemed pleasurable they did not tarry for its explanation but promptly separated; the ladies returning to their hotel to order their carriage and repack the few articles they had taken from their valises.

The Judge set off down the street, still examining his mail and bidding the girls to follow; and, as they did so, Molly exclaimed:

"It's just too lovely for words! Monty's coming, Monty's coming!"

Dorothy almost lost sight of the Judge as he turned a corner into a side street, so long she paused and so disgusted she felt.

"That boy! What's he coming for? I hope not to be with us!"

"Exactly what he is, then! We laid a little plan that last morning when we started. His mother was in Newburgh, you know, and hadn't decided where she would pa.s.s her vacation. So I suppose he went right to her and asked and she always does just what he wants. He writes that she'd never visited Nova Scotia nor Canada and was simply delighted to come. She wouldn't force their society upon our party, oh! no, not for anything!

But she'll manage to take the first steamer out from Boston and will go straight to Digby. We'll meet there; and if Aunt Lucretia doesn't think a Stark is good company for a Breckenridge, I'll know the reason why.

Oh! fine, fine."

"Oh! nuisance, nuisance! But come on! Your father is ever so far ahead and we'll have to hurry to catch up."

They set off upon a run and for a few minutes neither spoke. Molly was disappointed that Dolly didn't "enthuse," and the latter felt that a boy--such a boy--would effectually spoil the good times she and her mate might have had together, alone. Finally, Molly asked:

"Who was your letter from?"

For answer and with considerable pride Dorothy drew James Barlow's epistle from its envelope and held it toward her friend, saying:

"You can read and see."

Molly read and returned the letter, with a little sniff of contempt and the remark:

"Huh! The only interesting part of that is the post-script. It will be just fine to have those dogs along. I suppose Mrs. Calvert sent them up from Baltimore to Deerhurst. But if I were you, Dolly Doodles, I wouldn't let that ignoramus preach to me like he does to you in that letter. He's a prig, that's what he is, and I hate a prig. So there."

"No, he isn't. Mr. Seth would say that he had only 'lost his head' for a minute. You see poor Jim can't get over the wonder of his getting his 'chance.' He's simply crazy-wild over learning--now. He believes it's the only thing in the world worth while. He didn't mean to scold me.

I--I guess. If he did I don't mind. He's only Jim. He just knows I'll have to take care of my father and mother, some day, if our mineral spring and mine don't pay better than now. He's afraid I'll waste my 'chance,' that's all. Dear, faithful old Jim!"

"Pooh! Horrid, pokey old Jim, I say. But Monty'll have some fun in him; unless--he thinks two girls are poor company."

"I hope he will. I hope he'll coax your father and those old 'boys' to take him with them into the woods. That might do him some good and take the nonsense out of him."

"Well, Dorothy, I think that's not a nice thing for you to say. You must have forgotten the night of the fire and what he did to help you. There wasn't any 'nonsense' about Montmorency Vavasour-Stark then, if you please!"

Instantly touched by this reminder and fully regretful for her sarcasm--though still sorry that he was coming--Dolly returned:

"That's true, Molly, honey. I did forget, just for a minute. He's not half bad, Monty isn't; and I guess he'll be useful to climb trees and pick cherries for us, or get flowers that we can't reach. Anyhow, we're fairly dawdling and almost quarreling, and all the time your father is getting further away. See! He's stopping before that house? I'll race you to the gate!"

"All right. One--two--three--go!"

It was a charming little cottage before which they brought up at the Judge's side. Its front yard was small, so that the bay-windows one upon each side the door, came almost to the white paling before the grounds; but one could catch a glimpse of a deep garden behind and Dorothy's flower-loving soul was enchanted by it, even as by the contents of the windows.

"Oh! look! How lovely! Did you ever see such Gloxinias and Cyclamens?

And that Weeping Fuschia in the other window! It is gorgeous, simply gorgeous! But how queer, too, to keep plants indoors as late as this!

and their lace curtains up, right in the summer-time! Are we going in here, Judge Breckenridge?"

"Yes, indeed. I paused only to let your rhapsody have vent, though I really wish the little mistress of this home could have heard such a spontaneous tribute to her skill as a florist. You'll notice that peculiarity all through the Province. Window plants remain in the windows all the year round and there is scarcely a home that hasn't its share of them and its tiny conservatory, such as is here.

"Curtains? I hadn't thought why they're up, but maybe it's to keep out the prying gaze of too eager 'tourists.' A fine scorn the native always has for the average 'tourist'--though he has no scorn for the tourist's cash. Ah! Here she comes!"

At that instant his summons upon the tiny knocker was answered by the soft footfall of a woman, and the opening of the door a narrow way. Then it was as instantly flung wide and a dainty little housemistress, white-capped and white-haired, extended two small, toil-worn hands in greeting.

"Oh! Judge Breckenridge! You did give me such a start! But I'm so glad to see you! So more than glad. Do step right in, please. All of you step in."