Dorothy's Tour

“Shall we ride?” asked Jim.

“No. Let’s walk, it is not far, only a few blocks,” said Dorothy.

“That’s just what I wanted to do,” replied Jim, “only I was most afraid you would not care to. We haven’t had a good walk in a long time.”

They walked on silently as the streets were so crowded and there was lots to see, and the crossings required much attention, these two not being used to the busy streets of New York, where one has to look in all directions at once and keep moving lively to avoid being run into by the many automobiles or trucks that are hurrying along.

Finally Dorothy, observing the number on the houses, said: “Here we are, this is the house.”

Up the steps they ran and Jim gave the old-fashioned bell a vigorous pull. “Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling,” vaguely sounded from somewhere within and presently a pleasant faced young girl with white cap and apron and dark dress, said in a low voice, “Whom do you wish to see?”

Jim answered, “Will you tell Miss Boothington that Miss Dorothy Calvert wishes to see her?”

Slowly they followed the neat maid into the old fashioned parlor and waited there for her to take the message to Ruth.

“Oh, Jim,” whispered Dorothy, very softly putting her hand on Jim’s arm. “Jim, if I were you I should love to stay here. It is more like a home, a real home than any place I have been in, in the big city.”

“Yes, it is. And it is so quiet and restful. I do hope there will be room for me here,” answered Jim.

Just then they heard foot-steps on the stairs and in a second Ruth’s cheery voice greeted them with a “Hello!” from the hall.

“Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you till to-night, Dorothy. Have I you to thank for bringing her to me?” she asked, smiling at Jim.

“Yes, I guess so,” replied Dorothy. “We came on business.”

“On business!” echoed Ruth.

“Yes, on business,” answered Jim. “It’s just this: You see I have taken a position in New York and I have to board here. We didn’t know of any place and Aunt Betty thought of something you had said the night before about boarding-house meals.”

“Yes,” continued Dorothy, “and I called Mr. Ludlow up and he recommended this place and we came right down here, and we have just fallen in love with the place at first sight. Haven’t we, Jim?”

“Wait. Let me see. You want to see Mrs. Quarren. She is out just now, but she is such a dear. I know! You must both stay to lunch. It is just eleven forty-five and we lunch here at twelve. You see so many of the boarders here do not come home at noon-time, they work too far to come back, so that there will be plenty of room. And then you can see how the table suits you. Mrs. Quarren is always in for meals. You see she is just a great dear mother to us all. I won’t know what to do without her.”

“I will lend you Aunt Betty when you are with us,” volunteered Dorothy. “But we must let her know we are going to stay here for lunch.”

“I’ll telephone her if you will show me where the ’phone is,” spoke up Jim.

“Right this way, please,” said Ruth, leading Jim into the hall where he saw the little table and ’phone. “Come back to the parlor when you are through,” and Ruth went back to Dorothy.

“You are to play to-night, are you not?” she inquired.

“Yes, and are you to sing?” questioned Dorothy.

“Right after you play. We are each to do just one thing to-night. I am going to sing ‘Still vie de Nochte,’ or in English, ‘Still as the Night,’ you see it’s just a little German song. What are you to play?” asked Ruth.

“I thought I was to play two selections – Mr. Ludlow said so – ” started Dorothy.

“Yes, dear, you were,” interrupted Ruth, “but he changed his mind after I had coaxed him and he has consented to let me sing so we each can have one number then.”

“Well, then I will play that old medley, ‘Southern Airs.’ I like that best of all. It makes me think of home,” answered Dorothy.

“And I always can just fairly see old Bellevieu when you play that piece,” added Jim from the doorway. “Aunt Betty said it was satisfactory, and that she and Alfy would go out this afternoon and for you to come home soon and practice.”

Just then the luncheon bell sounded and the three went quickly down stairs. They were seated at a small table near the window. Ruth always sat there and as the other guests at that table were never present for luncheon, Dorothy and Jim could sit there too. So the three had the little table all to themselves.

Just as soon as she could, Mrs. Quarren came over to the table, for she had returned from her duties outside. Ruth presented Dorothy and Jim to her, and as she sat pleasantly chatting, Jim told her of his want. She said she would see him after dinner in the library.

“Well, Dorothy, you come to my room with me while Jim sees Mrs. Quarren in the library,” said Ruth, rising and carefully pushing her chair back under the table.

“You are very kind. I would like to see your room. You lead and I will follow,” answered Dorothy.

“Oh, the room is not much. You come too, Jim, and I will show you where the library is,” said Ruth, leading the way upstairs. “Right in there, Jim.”

Jim entered the library and the girls ascended to the floors above.

“I am going out this afternoon with a friend,” said Ruth. “I promised I would go shopping with her,” and she opened the door of her room.

The room was a large, sunny one with simple furnishings.

“I’ll sit here,” announced Dorothy, “till you are ready to go.”

“I will just hustle with my things and be ready in a moment,” replied Ruth, suiting her actions to her words.

In a very few minutes the girls were ready and slowly descended the stairs again to wait for Jim in the parlor.

“Well, here I am. Room engaged and all,” said a cheery voice from the hall which they knew as Jim’s.

“Where is it?” questioned Ruth.

“Yes, where?” echoed Dorothy.

“Where do you suppose?” mocked Jim. “Well, I will tell you. Ruth it is your room.”

“My room!” exclaimed the girl.

“Yes, your room,” laughed Jim. “I am to have it next Wednesday. Mrs. Quarren said you were to leave it Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!” interrupted Dorothy, in a very much surprised tone of voice.

“Yes, dear, Tuesday. Didn’t Mr. Ludlow tell you?” added Ruth. “Tuesday we go to Washington on the noon train.”

“Ah, is it so soon? I didn’t know it. It makes me feel so sad. I hate to leave New York now, just as I am becoming used to it,” wailed Dorothy. “Oh, I just must go back to the hotel. I have to practice and it is getting late.”

“Come on, Dorothy,” said Jim, rising and walking to the door.

“Good-bye till to-night,” said Dorothy.

“Good-bye, dear, till to-night,” answered Ruth.