Dorothy at Oak Knowe

Then Gwendolyn was hurrying forward, carrying the pocket-pad and pencil without which she went nowhere, and careless of everything but to get her sketch. So Dorothy followed, forgetting her resentment in watching her companion. To see Gwen’s head turning this way, then that, squinting her eyes and holding her pencil before them, measuring distance thus and seeking the “right light,” interested the watcher for the time.

Finally, the artist had secured a point which suited her and, seating herself, rapidly drew a picture of one view. She worked so deftly and confidently, that Dorothy’s only feeling now was one of admiration.

Then a new position was sought and another sketch made, but Gwen permitted no talk between them.

“I can’t work and talk, too; please be still, can’t you?” she asked, looking up from her work.

And again the real earnestness of the girl she disliked made Dorothy obedient, again rising to follow while Gwen chose another view still, high up near the top of the wonderful cascade. Her face had grown pink and animated and her eyes glowed with enthusiasm.

“I shall paint that misty-veil with a glaze of ultramarine. There should be an underwash of madder, and maybe terre verte. Oh! if I can only make it look one atom as I see it! We must come here again and again, you and I, Miss Calvert, and you must – you simply must keep the secret of our finding till after I’ve exhibited my picture.”

“All right. How long will it be before we can go find the others? you know we can’t gather any nuts right here. I don’t see a single nut tree.”

“I don’t know how long I shall be, and why care about nuts while we can have – this?” returned Gwen, indifferently.

“Very well, I guess I’ll take a nap. Seems terrible close in this shut-in nook and my walk has made me sleepy. I reckon I’ll take a nap. Wake me up when you get through.”

So saying, Dorothy curled down upon a mass of mighty ferns, laid her head on her arm and went to sleep. For how long she never knew, but her awakening was sudden and startling. She had been roused from a dream of Bellevieu, her Baltimore home, and of dear Aunt Betty feeding her pets, the Great Danes.

Brushing the slumber from her eyes, she gazed about her, wondering for an instant, where she was. Then – that frantic shriek again:

“Help! Help! I’m dr – ”

The cry died in a gurgle and Dorothy sprang to her feet in terror. She had warned Gwendolyn not to take that high seat so close to that slippery rock, from beneath which the cascade began its downward flow.

“If you fall, it will be straight into the pool. Do be careful, Gwen, how you move.”

But the warning had been useless – Gwendolyn was already in the pool.

CHAPTER VII

ALL HALLOW EVE FESTIVITIES

“I’m going to choose Queen Bess! I’ve made a lovely ruff, stands away up above my head. And Mrs. Archibald, the matron, has bought me four yards of chintz that might be brocade – if it was!” said Florita Sheraton, from the gymnasium floor, hugging her arms for warmth.

“Four yards! That’ll never go around you, Fatty!” declared Fanny Dimock, with playful frankness.

“Well, it’ll have to go as far as it may, then. It cost twenty cents. That left five only for the white and gilt paper for my ruff and crown.”

“Was Queen Elizabeth fat?” asked Dorothy, from her now favorite perch upon the high wooden horse.

“What does that matter, whether she were or not? The plot is to act like a Queen when once you get her clothes on,” observed Winifred, judicially. “I wonder if you can do that, Flo. Or if it needs another yard of cloth to make you real stately – she ought to have a train, oughtn’t she – I might lend you another sixpence. If Miss Muriel would let me.”

“Don’t ask for it, Win. You’ve done so splendidly ever since – ”

“That time I didn’t! Well, I’d rather not ask for it. Twenty-five cents was the limit she set.”

“Wants to stimulate our ingenuity, maybe, to see how well we can dress on twenty-five cents a week!” laughed Ernesta Smith, who had no ingenuity at all. “If it weren’t for Dolly here, I’d have to give it up, but she’s fixed me a lovely, spooky rig that’ll just make you all goose-fleshy.”

“What is it? Tell,” begged the others, but Ernesta shook her head. “No, indeedy! It’s the chance of my life to create an impression and I shan’t spoil it beforehand. It’ll be all the more stunning because I’m such a bean-pole. Dorothy says that Florrie and I must walk together in the parade.”

“Oh! I hope it will be a grand success!” cried Winifred, seizing Bessie Walters and going through a lively calisthenic exercise with her. “We’ve always wanted to have a Hallowe’en Party, but the faculty have never before said yes. It’s all Dorothy’s doings that we have it now.”

A shadow fell over Dolly’s bright face. It was quite true that she had suggested this little festivity to the good Bishop. She had told him other things as well which hurt him to hear and made him the more willing to consent to any bit of gayety she might propose. She had said:

“There is somebody in this school that doesn’t like me. Yes, dear Bishop, it’s true; though I don’t know who and I’ve tried to be friendly to everybody. That is to all I know. The high-up Form girls don’t appear to see me at all, though they’re friendly enough with lots of the other younger ones. I heard Edna Ross-Ross saying to another that all the strange, horrid things that had happened at Oak Knowe this autumn began with my coming. She’d been told that I was a charity scholar, belonging to one of the servants. She didn’t object to charity girls, so long as she knew they were of good family, but she drew the line at servants’ families. She said that Gwendolyn had heard you, yourself, tell Miss Tross-Kingdon that I was mischievous and she must look out for me.”

“My dear, my dear! Surely no fair-minded girl could have so misunderstood me, even admitting that I did say that – which I fail to remember. As to that silly notion about the ‘haunting’ business, Betty Calvert’s niece should be able to laugh at that. Absurd, absurd! Now tell me again what your fancy is about this Hallowe’en Party.”

“Why, sir, things can’t be done without folks do them, can they?”

“That’s a poser; but I’ll grant your premises. Proceed with the argument,” answered the old gentleman, merrily.

“Well, I thought, somehow, that if everybody was allowed to dress in character and wear some sort of a mask, the one who had played such pranks and frightened Grace and the maids might be found out. If anybody in this house owns such a mask as that horrid one and is mean enough to scare little girls, he or she wouldn’t lose so good a chance of scaring a lot more. Don’t you think so? And – and – there’s something else I ought to tell, but am afraid. Miss Muriel gets so stern every time the thing is mentioned that I put it off and off. I can tell you though, if you wish.”

“Certainly, I wish you would.”

The gentleman’s face had grown as serious now, and almost as stern, as the Lady Principal’s at similar times; and Dorothy gave a sigh to bolster her own courage as she gravely announced:

“When I took out my white shoes to wear them last evening, there was a skull and cross-bones on each one, done with red paint: and the tube of vermilion had been taken from my own oil color box. Now – what do you think of that?”

Her listener pursed his lips in a silent whistle, which indicated great amazement in a man like him, but he said nothing. Only, for a moment he drew the girl to him and looked searchingly into her brown eyes. But they looked back at him with a clear, straightforward gaze that pleased him and made him exclaim:

“Well, little Betty – whom you always seem to me – we’re in a scrape worthy of old Bellevieu. We’ve got to get out of it, somehow. You try your scheme of playing masked detective first. If you fail in proving our innocence and some other youngster’s roguery, I’ll tackle the matter myself. For this nonsense is hurtful to Oak Knowe. That I am compelled to admit. ‘Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth.’ A miserable rumor started has wide-spread effect. I could preach you a sermon on that topic, but I won’t. Run along back to your mates and try it. Just whisper ‘Hallowe’en Party’ to any one of them and see if every girl at Oak Knowe doesn’t know beforehand that after chapel, to-night, the Lady Principal will announce this intended event. Now, good day, my dear ‘Betty,’ and for the present, to oblige me, just put those decorated shoes out of sight.”

This talk had been two days before: and with the Lady Principal’s announcement of the affair had been coupled the decision:

“Those of you young ladies that have no costume suitable may expend their week’s allowance in material for one. Of course, this restricts the expense to utmost simplicity. No one may run in debt, nor borrow more than suggestions from her neighbors. Under these conditions I hope you will have the happy time you anticipate.”

So they were dismissed in gay spirits, to gather in groups everywhere to discuss costumes and the possibility of evolving a fetching one at the modest cost of a quarter dollar. By the afternoon following, most of the preparations had been made. Some of the maids had lent a hand to the sewing and the good-natured matron had planned and purchased and cut till her arms ached. But she had entered into the spirit of the occasion as heartily as any girl of them all; and the sixth and seventh Form students, who rather fancied themselves too grown-up for such frivolity, had willingly helped the preparations of the lower school pupils.

Only one who might have enjoyed the fun was out of it. Gwendolyn was in the hospital, in the furthest west wing: for the time being a nervous and physical wreck from her experience at the Maiden’s Bath. Even yet nobody dared speak to her of that terrible time, for it made her so hysterical; and for some reason she shrank from Dorothy’s visits of inquiry and sympathy more than from any other’s. But this seemed ungrateful to Lady Jane, her mother, now in residence at the school to care for and be near her daughter. She determined this “nonsense” must be overcome and had especially begged Dolly to come to the sick room, dressed for the party, and to relate in detail all that had happened on that dreadful day.

So Dorothy had slipped away from her mates, to oblige Lady Jane, but dreading to meet the girl she had saved, yet who still seemed to dislike her. She wore her gipsy costume of scarlet, a little costume that she had worn at home at a similar party, and a dainty scarlet mask would be added later on. She looked so graceful and winsome, as she tapped at the door, that Lady Jane exclaimed as she admitted her:

“Why, you darling! What a picture you have made of yourself! I must give you a good kiss – two of them! One for myself and Gwen and one for the Aunt Betty you love.”

Then the lady led her in to the low chair beside Gwen’s bed, with a tenderness so motherly that Dorothy lost all feeling of awkwardness with the sick girl.

“Now, my child, I must hear every detail of that afternoon. My darling daughter is really much better. I want her to get over this dread of what is past, and safely so. I’m sure your story of the matter will help her to think of it calmly.”

She waited for Dorothy to begin, and at last she did, making as light of the affair as of an ordinary playground happening.

“Why, it wasn’t anything. Really, it wasn’t, except that Gwen took such a cold and grieved so because other folks had to find where the hidden cascade was. She just got so eager with her drawing that she didn’t notice how close she got to the edge of the rock. If I had stayed awake, instead of going to sleep, I should have seen and caught her before she slipped. I can’t forgive myself for that.”

The Lady Jane shook a protesting head.

“That was no fault in you, Dorothy. Go on.”