Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore Part 18

They raced up the stairs and soon reached their room.

Valerie was ready first, because Betty had found a letter waiting for her, and promptly sat down to read it.

"You'd better not stop to read it," cautioned Valerie, "for when we came in we had only fifteen minutes to--"

But just then Betty gave a little cry of delight.

"Oh-oo! Just listen to this!" she cried. "Father says we are to go to the sh.o.r.e this summer just for a change, and already he has rented the summer place." She clapped her hands, and laughed with sheer happiness.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that to-night. I do believe I'll dream about it," she said.

The half-hour for social chat was over, and dinner was half through when Patricia and Arabella entered the dining-room.

All eyes were turned upon them.

Patricia held her chin very high, and looked as if she were thinking: "I know I'm late, but what of that?" She was a.s.suming a boldness that she did not feel, whereas Arabella was absolutely natural. She felt frightened, and looked--just as she felt.

"Wouldn't you like to know what they wished?" whispered Valerie, to which Betty whispered in reply:

"I'd like to know, but they wouldn't tell us."

It was a fixed rule at Glenmore that the pupils must be present at the social half-hour, and then be sure of being prompt at six, the dinner hour. Patricia and Arabella were the first to break that rule.

There was to be a week's vacation, and all but four of the pupils were to spend it at home.

They were Patricia and Arabella, Dorothy, and Nancy.

Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte were still traveling, and Mrs. Vane had asked Vera to bring Dorothy and Nancy home with her for the week.

Already they had planned enough pleasure to last a month, and Vera was still racking her busy brain to think of other things that they might do.

The pupils were welcome to remain at Glenmore if they wished, and Patricia had decided that that was just what she would do.

Arabella had hesitated. She was fond of her father, and she had intended to go home for the week, but Patricia had declared that they would stay at Glenmore, and Arabella was no match for Patricia, so it was settled that they would remain at the school.

The week at Vera's home opened charmingly.

Mrs. Vane had given the week over to Vera and her three little guests.

"It isn't quite a week," she said when she greeted them, "for you have arrived Monday afternoon, and you must leave Sat.u.r.day morning. That gives us Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and we must make each day delightful."

"It always is delightful here," said Dorothy, "and it seemed so good to come to you when mother was away."

Mrs. Vane drew Dorothy closer. She knew that at heart, sweet Dorothy was a bit homesick.

"We'll have a pleasant little home evening with music and games," she said, "and you'll all feel rested by to-morrow. I'll not tell what I've in store for to-morrow. That is a secret," she said.

Of course Vera coaxed, and the others tried to guess, but Mrs. Vane remained firm, only laughing as their guessing grew wilder.

"Mother truly can keep a secret, but I can't," said Vera. "I mean to keep it but first thing I know, I'm telling it."

"We all know that," said Elf, and Vera joined in the laughter of the others.

Tuesday was fair, and Mrs. Vane, at lunch looked at the four bright faces before her, Vera, a small copy of herself; Elf, whose mischievous face was truly elfish; Nancy, whose gypsy beauty always pleased, and Dorothy, blue-eyed, fair-haired, whose lovable disposition shone from her eyes, and made her sweet to look upon.

"We shall take a trip to Fairy-land this afternoon," she said, "and must start directly after lunch."

That was all that she would tell, and as they motored up one busy street, and down another, she enjoyed watching their eager faces, and listening to their chatter.

Fairy-land proved to be a wonderful play, depicting Elf-land with fairies, water nymphs, elves and witches, goblins, and gnomes, with exquisite scenery, beautiful costumes, and graceful dancing that held them entranced, from the time that the curtain went up until the grand march of the fairies at the finale.

The "grown-ups" in the audience were delighted, so it was not strange that Mrs. Vane's party was spellbound.

Of them all, Nancy best understood the perfect art of the dancing. She had been drilled in those dainty steps, and she saw how cleverly each did her part.

It was an afternoon of enchantment, and when the play was over, the gay little party howled along the broad thoroughfare toward home and they talked of the beautiful fairy play, and the graceful girls who had danced as nymphs.

The four days pa.s.sed so quickly that when Sat.u.r.day dawned, it seemed hardly possible that it was time to return to Glenmore.

There had been a wonderful exhibition of paintings for Wednesday, a huge fair for Thursday at which Mrs. Vane bought a lovely gift for each as a souvenir.

Thursday they had motored out beyond the city where willows were showing their misty green, and gay little crocus beds were in bloom. They had stopped for lunch at a pretty restaurant that looked for all the world like a rustic cottage, and then had returned to find Rob Vane waiting to greet them, as they drew up to the house.

"h.e.l.lo!" he called to them before they had alighted.

"How is this, that a fellow gets a week's vacation, and comes home from school to find only servants to greet him?"

"Why, Robert, I am glad enough to have you home for a week. I thought you were to stay at school for extra coaching?"

"That's what I wrote in my last letter," said Rob, "but I pa.s.sed exams.

with flying colors. I was nervous, and feared I wasn't prepared, but say! I was needlessly scared, for I not only 'pa.s.sed,' but s.n.a.t.c.hed the prize for mathematics."

"I am proud of you, Robert, and your father will be pleased," Mrs. Vane said, her fine eyes s.h.i.+ning.

"And I'm proud of you, Rob," cried Vera, rus.h.i.+ng at him, and clasping her arms about him.

"Hi, p.u.s.s.y Weather-vane, it's good to have a little sister," said Rob, swinging her around until she was dizzy.

"Are you glad to see me, too?" he asked, laughing at her flushed cheeks, and touzled, flaxen hair.

"Oh, Rob! _So_ glad, even if you do shake me up until I look wild," Vera said, clinging to his arm, and dragging him toward the little guests.

"I dare to say he's the best brother in the world because neither one of you has a brother, so you won't be offended."

"Spare my blushes, Vera," cried Rob. "Say, girls, I'm mighty glad to see you. How long are you to stay? A week?"

"We are going back to Glenmore Sat.u.r.day," Dorothy said, "and we start at nine in the morning. There is no one at the Stone House but the servants, and it was so lovely to come home with Vera."