The S. W. F. Club Part 15

"We're coming to take you driving, too," Pauline said. "Just at present, it doesn't seem as if the summer would be long enough for all the things we mean to do in it."

"And you don't know yet, what we are to do this afternoon?"

"Only, that it's to be a drive and, afterwards, supper at the Brices'.

That's all Josie, herself, knows about it. Tom had to take her and Mrs. Brice into so much of his confidence."

Through the drowsy stillness of the summer afternoon, came the notes of a horn, sounding nearer and nearer. A moment later, a stage drawn by two of the hotel horses turned in at the parsonage drive at a fine speed, drawing up before the steps where Pauline and s.h.i.+rley were sitting, with considerable nourish. Beside the driver sat Tom, in long linen duster, the megaphone belonging to the school team in one hand.

Along each side of the stage was a length of white cloth, on which was lettered--

SEEING WINTON STAGE

As the stage stopped, Tom sprang down, a most businesslike air on his boyish face.

"This is the Shaw residence, I believe?" he asked, consulting a piece of paper.

"I--I reckon so," Pauline answered, too taken aback to know quite what she was saying.

"All right!" Tom said. "I understand--"

"Then it's a good deal more than I do," Pauline cut in.

"That there are several young people here desirous of joining our little sight-seeing trip this afternoon."

From around the corner of the house at that moment peeped a small freckled face, the owner of which was decidedly very desirous of joining that trip. Only a deep sense of personal injury kept Patience from coming forward,--she wasn't going where she wasn't wanted--but some day--they'd see!

s.h.i.+rley clapped her hands delightedly. "How perfectly jolly! Oh, I am glad you asked me to join the club."

"I'll go tell Hilary!" Pauline said. "Tom, however--"

"I beg your pardon, Miss?"

Pauline laughed and turned away.

"Oh, I say, Paul," Tom dropped his mask of pretended dignity, "let the Imp come with us--this time."

Pauline looked doubtful. She, as well as Tom, had caught sight of that small flushed face, on which longing and indignation had been so plainly written. "I'm not sure that mother will--" she began, "But I'll see."

"Tell her--just this first time," Tom urged, and s.h.i.+rley added, "She would love it so."

"Mother says," Pauline reported presently, "that Patience may go _this_ time--only we'll have to wait while she gets ready."

From an upper window came an eager voice. "I'm most ready now!"

"She'll never forget it--as long as she lives," s.h.i.+rley said, "and if she hadn't gone she would never've forgotten _that_."

"Nor let us--for one while," Pauline remarked--"I'd a good deal rather work with than against that young lady."

Hilary came down then, looking ready and eager for the outing. She had been out in the trap with Pauline several times; once, even as far as the manor to call upon s.h.i.+rley.

"Why," she exclaimed, "you've brought the Folly! Tom, how ever did you manage it?"

"Beg pardon, Miss?"

Hilary shrugged her shoulders, coming nearer for a closer inspection of the big lumbering stage. It had been new, when the present proprietor of the hotel, then a young man, now a middle-aged one, had come into his inheritance. Fresh back from a winter in town, he had indulged high hopes of booming his sleepy little village as a summer resort, and had ordered the stage--since christened the Folly--for the convenience and enjoyment of the guests--who had never come. A long idle lifetime the Folly had pa.s.sed in the hotel carriage-house; used so seldom, as to make that using a village event, but never allowed to fall into disrepair, through some fancy of its owner.

As Tom opened the door at the back now, handing his guests in with much ceremony, Hilary laughed softly. "It doesn't seem quite--respectful to actually sit down in the poor old thing. I wonder, if it's more indignant, or pleased, at being dragged out into the light of day for a parcel of young folks?"

"'Butchered to make a Roman Holiday'?" s.h.i.+rley laughed.

At that moment Patience appeared, rather breathless--but not half as much so as Miranda, who had been drawn into service, and now appeared also--"You ain't half b.u.t.toned up behind, Patience!" she protested, "and your hair ribbon's not tied fit to be seen.--My sakes, to think of anyone ever having named that young one _Patience_!"

"I'll overhaul her, Miranda," Pauline comforted her. "Come here, Patience."

"Please, I am to sit up in front with you, ain't I, Tom?" Patience urged. "You and I always get on so beautifully together, you know."

Tom relaxed a second time. "I don't see how I can refuse after that,"

and the over-hauling process being completed, Patience climbed up to the high front seat, where she beamed down on the rest with such a look of joyful content that they could only smile back in response.

From the doorway, came a warning voice. "Not too far, Tom, for Hilary; and remember, Patience, what you have promised me."

"All right, Mrs. Shaw," Tom a.s.sured her, and Patience nodded her head a.s.sentingly.

From the parsonage, they went first to the doctor's. Josie was waiting for them at the gate, and as they drew up before it, with horn blowing, and horses almost prancing--the proprietor of the hotel had given them his best horses, in honor of the Folly--she stared from her brother to the stage, with its white placard, with much the same look of wonder in her eyes as Pauline and Hilary had shown.

"Miss Brice?" Tom was consulting his list again.

"So that's what you've been concocting, Tom Brice!" Josie answered.

Tom's face was as sober as his manner. "I am afraid we are a little behind scheduled time, being unavoidably delayed."

"He means they had to wait for me to get ready," Patience explained.

"You didn't expect to see me along, did you, Josie?" And she smiled blandly.

"I don't know what I did expect--certainly, not this." Josie took her place in the stage, not altogether sure whether the etiquette of the occasion allowed of her recognizing its other inmates, or not.

But Pauline nodded politely. "Good afternoon. Lovely day, isn't it?"

she remarked, while s.h.i.+rley asked, if she had ever made this trip before.

"Not in this way," Josie answered. "I've never ridden in the Folly before. Have you, Paul?"

"Once, from the depot to the hotel, when I was a youngster, about Impatience's age. You remember, Hilary?"

"Of course I do. Uncle Jerry took me up in front." Uncle Jerry was the name the owner of the stage went by in Winton. "He'd had a lot of Boston people up, and had been showing them around."

"This reminds me of the time father and I did our own New York in one of those big 'Seeing New York' motors," s.h.i.+rley said. "I came home feeling almost as if we'd been making a trip 'round some foreign city."

"Tom can't make Winton seem foreign," Josie declared.

There were three more houses to stop at, lower down the street. From windows and porches all along the route, laughing, curious faces stared wonderingly after them, while a small body-guard of children sprang up as if by magic to attend them on their way. This added greatly to the delight of Patience, who smiled condescendingly down upon various intimates, blissfully conscious of the envy she was exciting in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It was delightful to be one of the club for a time, at least.