Two Little Women

"All aboard! Go ahead!" Bob called out, waving his hand to the chauffeur and the car started off at a brisk rate.

"You know you needn't go, Dolly, even yet, if you don't want to," and Mrs. Rose smiled kindly at the little girl, as they flew down the avenue.

"I do want to go, Mrs. Rose, and I am ashamed of myself for acting so bad, but I will brace up now. It was just saying good-bye to Mother that somehow sort of seemed to shake my heart."

Dolly smiled through her tears and determinedly began to chatter gaily.

"That's the ticket!" said Mr. Rose, smiling approval at her. "That's the brave little girl. Now when you get to Crosstrees you'll be so delighted and interested, that you won't think of home and Mother for two weeks, except to write a postcard now and then."

"You won't hardly have time for that!" cried Dotty, "there's so much to do from morning till night, and that makes you so tired that you sleep from night till morning. Oh, Dollyrinda, we will have the most gorgeousest times ever!"

"It's beautiful to have Dolly with us," said Genie, her big black eyes dancing with anticipation; "we can show her all our fav'rite places, and all the islands and woodses and everything! But two weeks is an awful short time."

"We'll make it longer next year," said Mr. Rose. "If our two wounded soldiers hadn't been wounded, we would have started a month ago."

"Why do you call it Crosstrees camp?" asked Dolly.

"You'll see when you get there," and Mr. Rose smiled at his little visitor.

Sure enough when they arrived, Dolly discovered the meaning of the strange name. The gateway was formed by two trees which had started to grow parallel, but in some way had been bent toward one another until their trunks crossed about ten feet above ground. The trees had gone on growing this way, and formed an "N," covered with branches and foliage. The party had landed from their train at a small station near one end of a long lake. They had traversed this lake in a swift motor boat, for their camp was at the other end. It was nearly dark when they reached their own pier and all clambered out and climbed a flight of narrow wet steps.

"Hang on to the railing, Doll," said Dotty; "the steps are slippery, a little."

Passing under the crosstrees, to which Mr. Rose drew Dolly's attention as the name of the camp, they came to a sort of bungalow or long, low house.

"Is this the camp?" said Dolly, in surprise. "I thought it was tents. You said so, Dot."

"There are tents, too. Only on stormy nights we sleep inside. Come on in, Doll. Isn't it fine?"

Dolly Fayre looked around at the bare boarded rooms, the scant furniture and rough walls of the cabin, for it was little more than that.

She was cold and rather hungry, but underneath these discomforts was a far more troublesome one which she tried not to think about, but which she felt sure was going to develop into an acute case of homesickness.

"Run up to your rooms, girlies, and take off your things," said Mrs. Rose, cheerily. "We'll eat inside to-night, and Maria will make us some of her good flap-jacks for supper."

Maria was an old coloured servant and the only one who accompanied the Rose family to camp. Other help that might be needed they procured from some of the natives who were glad to do odd jobs for the summer people.

Dolly followed Dotty and Genie upstairs where there was a long row of tiny bedrooms opening onto a narrow hall. These bedrooms had ceilings which slanted right down to the floor, so one could not stand upright after advancing a few feet into the room.

"Aren't they funny rooms?" said Dotty, laughing with glee at Dolly's blank-looking countenance. "But you'll get used to them soon. Of course you have to bend double, except just here by the door, but that's nothing. This one is yours, Dolly, and mine is right next and then Genie's. Mother and Father have a room downstairs. But we won't sleep here, we'll sleep in the open tent to-night, it's plenty warm enough. Oh, it's such fun!"

Dolly didn't know what sleeping in an open tent meant, but she smiled in response and soon the three girls went downstairs together.

Mr. and Mrs. Rose were bustling around, happily engaged in unpacking and arranging books and pictures and various trifles to make the big living-room more homelike.

"Looks a little bare now," said Mr. Rose, as he placed his smoking set in position near his own particular easy chair, "but in a day or two we'll have it looking like a little Paradise on earth. Just you wait, Miss Dolly, till you see this desert blossom like a rose, – like a whole Rose family, in fact!"

"These things help a lot," and Mrs. Rose deftly arranged half a dozen sofa pillows on a big inviting-looking couch.

"And to-morrow we'll put up a swing, and the hammocks, won't you, Daddy?" said Genie.

"Course I will, chickabiddy," and Mr. Rose whistled in gay contentment as he took books from their boxes and arranged them on the table.

When supper was announced, Maria informed the family that she hadn't been able to manage the flap-jacks that night.

"But you-all sho'ly will hab 'em for breakfast, dat you will, – you suttinly will. But you see huccum I jes' didn't hab de proper contraptions unpacked for 'em to-night."

"That's all right, Maria," said Mr. Rose, good-naturedly; "we don't mind what we have to-night. To-morrow we'll get a good fair start. Sit down, children, we'll manage to make out a supper."

The supper was sort of a makeshift of sardines and herring and crackers, with coffee for the older people.

Dolly had no wish to be critical, but the viands were not tempting and she ate very little, being conscious all the time of an ever-growing lump in her throat. She tried hard to be merry and gay, but she couldn't feel the enthusiasm with which the others overflowed.

"Shall we have a fire to-night, Daddy?" asked Dotty as they left the table.

"Oh, not to-night. It's pretty late, and we're all tired out. We'll leave that for to-morrow night. You see, Dolly Fayre, the curtain doesn't really rise on the glories of Camp Crosstrees until to-morrow. Can you wait?"

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Rose," and Dolly smiled bravely. "Where is it that we're going to sleep?"

"I'll show you," said Mrs. Rose, and amid shouts of glee and peals of laughter, Dotty and Genie ran upstairs, and returned with their arms full of blankets and other things.

"Grab a pillow and come on," shouted Dotty as she herself picked up a pillow from the couch. Genie took one, too, and Dolly did also and then the whole tribe left the house.

They walked across some very uneven ground and Dolly would have stumbled in the darkness had not Mrs. Rose clasped her arm firmly.

"Here we are!" she said, and Dolly saw a large tent, but it wasn't exactly a tent. It was a platform of boards raised not more than a foot above the ground. It had a roof and three sides of canvas, but the front was entirely open. On the floor were piles of balsam boughs and on these the Roses arranged the blankets they had brought.

"I envy you girls," said Mrs. Rose, as she tucked up the impromptu beds. "It is Heavenly to sleep out here, but we older people dare not risk rheumatism. You'll love it, Dolly. Perhaps you'll hear an owl or two hooting you a lullaby."

In less than half an hour the three girls were put to bed and Mrs. Rose had said good-night and left them.

Dotty and Genie had murmured sleepy good-nights and had snuggled down into their spicy-smelling nests of branches.

Dolly lay with wide open eyes staring out at the stars. She had never experienced this sort of thing before, and she was frightened and uncomfortable. Although mid-summer, the air was chilly, and she did not like the feeling of the rather coarse blankets. Moreover she was wearing a thick, clumsy, flannel nightgown, and the bed of branches seemed to be full of knots and lumps. She longed for her own pretty room with its dainty appointments and soft bed clothing.

She looked across at Dotty and Genie. She could see them but dimly, but she knew they were sound asleep. She felt alone, utterly alone in that dreadful place, with the forest trees making a sad murmur and the silent stars winking solemnly at her. She thought of her mother and father and Trudy and Bert and she had the most dreadful wave of homesickness roll over her. Then the tears came, hot, scalding tears that rolled down her cheeks in ever increasing number. She made no noise, lest she waken the other girls but the effort to stifle her sobs made her cry harder, and she buried her face in the rough worsted of the sofa pillow and wiped her eyes with the harsh blanket.

"Oh, Mother," she said, to herself, "I can't stay here. This is a dreadful place. Why did you let me come? I knew I would hate a camp. How can anybody like these awful beds? And I'm cold, – and I'm not cold either, but I'm all shivery and I feel horrid! I'm – I'm – oh, I'm just lonesome and homesick and I want Mother!"

After a time Dolly stopped crying from sheer exhaustion and spent with her sobs, she lay there gazing at the stars. She felt sure there were bears and wolves among the trees, and soon they would come out and attack the camp.

Moreover, she was dreadfully hungry. She had a box of candy in her suitcase, but that was upstairs in the bungalow. She could not get it without disturbing Mr. and Mrs. Rose and that was not to be thought of.

The poor child lay for a time in her misery, every moment getting more and more homesick and with a deeper longing to get back to her mother and never leave home again.

At last a spirit of desperation took hold upon her. It was characteristic of Dolly Fayre to endure patiently and bravely the greatest trials that might come to her, but when the strain became too great it was in her nature to rebel, suddenly and decidedly.

And now, when it seemed that she simply could not stand the dreadfulness another moment, she sat straight up in bed, and said clearly, "I'm going home."