Dorothy at Oak Knowe

“I have a suspicion that I’m being told now,” answered Dorothy, soberly. “Suppose you finish the telling, dear, while we are airing the subject. What are the things you’re talking about?”

“Why, aren’t you stupid, Dolly? About the be-a-u-tiful blankets were made into your suit. Auntie said they were the handsomest ever was. Lady Jane had bought ’em to have new things made for Gwen, ’cause Lady Jane’s going far away across the ocean and she wanted to provide every single thing Gwen might want. In case anything happened to Gwen’s old one.

“So Gwen said, no, she didn’t need ’em and you did. She guessed your folks hadn’t much money, she’d overheard the Bishop say so. That’s the way she knows everything is ’cause she always ‘overhears.’ I told Auntie Prin that I thought that was terrible nice, and I’d like to learn overhearing; and she sauced me back the funniest! My! she did! Said if she ever caught me overhearing I’d be put to bed with nothing but bread and water to eat, until I forgot the art. Just like that she said it! Seems if overhearing is badness. She does so want Gwendolyn to be really noble. Auntie Prin thinks it noble for Gwen to give up her blankets and to have that be-a-u-tiful toboggan bought for you with your name on it. You aren’t real poor, are you, Dolly? Not like the beggar folks come ‘tramping’ by and has ‘victuals’ given to them? Bishop says all little girls must be good to the poor. That’s when he wants me to put my pennies in my Mite Box for the little heathen. I don’t so much care about the heathen and Hugh – ”

But Dorothy suddenly put the child down, knowing that once started upon the theme of “Brother Hugh” the little sister’s talk was endless. And she was deeply troubled.

She had altogether forgotten John Gilpin and the accusation she had hurled at him. Nothing now remained in her mind but thoughts of Gwendolyn’s rich gifts and indignation against her. Why had she done it? As a sort of payment for Dorothy’s assistance at the Maiden’s Bath?

Meeting Miss Muriel in the hall she cried:

“Oh! my dear lady, I am in such trouble! May I talk to you a moment?”

“Certainly, Dorothy. Come this way. Surely there can be nothing further have happened to you, to-day.”

Safe in the shelter and privacy of a small classroom, Dorothy told her story into wise and loving ears; and to be comforted at once.

“You are all wrong, Dorothy. I am sure that there was no such thought as payment for any deed of yours in poor Gwendolyn’s mind. You have been invariably kind to her in every way possible; and until this chance came she had found none in which to show you that she realized this and loved you for it. Why, my dear, if you could have seen her happiness when I told her it was a beautiful thing for her to do, you would certainly have understood her and been glad to give her the chance she was glad to take. It is often harder to accept favors than to bestow them. It takes more grace. Now, dear, let’s call that ‘ghost laid,’ as Dawkins says. Hunt up Gwen, tell her how grateful you are to her for her rich, unselfish gifts, and – do it with a real Dorothy face; not with any hint of offended pride – which is not natural to it! And go at once, then drop the subject and forget it. We were all so thankful that you chose her this morning without knowing.”

Back came the smiles as Miss Muriel hoped to see them, and away sped Dorothy to put the good advice in practice; and five minutes later Gwendolyn was the happiest girl at Oak Knowe, because her gifts had been ascribed to real affection only.

“Now, Gwen, that we’ve settled that, let’s go and see what we can do for Robin. Heigho, Winifred! you’re just in time to aid a worthy cause – Come on to Lady Principal!”

“Exactly whither I was bound!” waving a letter overhead. “Going a-begging, my dears, if you please!” she returned, clasping Gwen’s waist on one side to walk three abreast. A trivial action in itself but delightful to the “Peer,” showing that this free-spoken “Commoner” no longer regarded her as “stand-offish” but “just one of the crowd.”

“Begging for what, Win?”

“That’s a secret!”

“Pooh! You might as well tell. Secrets always get found out. I’ve just discovered one – by way of chattering Millikins-Pillikins. Guess it.”

“I couldn’t, Dolly, I’m too full of my own. As for that child’s talk – but half of it has sense.”

“So I thought, too, listening to her. But half did have sense and that is – Who do you think gave me my beautiful toboggan things?”

“Why, your Aunt Betty, I suppose, since she does everything else for you,” answered Winifred promptly. “Anyhow, don’t waste time on guesses – Tell!”

Then she glanced up into Gwendolyn’s face and saw how happy it was, and hastily added:

“No, you needn’t tell, after all, I know. It was Gwen, here, the big-hearted dear old thing! She’s the only girl at Oak Knowe who’s rich enough and generous enough to do such a splendid thing.”

“Good for you, Win, you guessed right at once!” answered Dolly trying to clap her hands but unable to loosen them from her comrades’ clasp. “Now for yours!”

“Wait till we get to the ‘audience chamber’! Come on.”

But even yet they were hindered. In the distance, down at the end of the hall, Dorothy caught sight of Mr. Gilpin, evidently just departing from the house. A more dejected figure could scarcely be imagined, nor a more ludicrous one, as he limped toward the entrance, hands on hips and himself bent forward forlornly. Below his rough top-coat which he had discarded on his arrival, hung the tatters of his smock that had been worn to ribbons by his roll down the slide.

Nobody knew what had become of his own old beaver hat, but a light colored derby, which the chef had loaned him, sat rakishly over one ear, in size too small for the whole top of his bald head.

“Looks as if he had two foreheads!” said Winifred, who couldn’t help laughing at his comical appearance, with part of his baldness showing at front and back of the borrowed hat.

Dorothy laughed, too, yet felt a guilty regret at the way she had spoken to him. She had accused him of “trying to kill her” as well as Gwen and little Grace; but he “kill anything”? Wicked, even to say that.

“There goes John Gilpin, and, girls, I must speak to him. Come – I can’t let him go that way!”

As his “good foot” crossed the threshold Dorothy’s hand was on his shoulder and her voice begging:

“Oh! please, Mr. Gilpin! Do forgive that horrible thing I said! I didn’t know, I didn’t understand, I didn’t mean it – I thought – it looked – Do come back just a minute and let me explain.”

The old fellow turned and gazed into her pleading eyes, but at first scarcely heard her.

“Why, ’tis the little maid! hersel’ that was cryin’ that night on the big railway platform. The night that Robin lad was anigh kilt. Something’s mixed up in me head. What’s it, lassie, you want?”

“I want your forgiveness, Mr. Gilpin. When I saw Gracie on the floor and the broken pot beside her I thought – you’d – you’d tried – and account of your sled hitting Gwen and me – Do come in and rest. You’re worse hurt than anybody thought, I’m afraid. There, there, that’s right. Come back and rest till the team goes into town for the Saturday night’s supplies. It always goes you know, and Michael will get the driver to drop you at your own door. I’m sure he will.”

Obediently, he allowed her to lead him back into the hall and to seat him on the settle beside the radiator. The warmth of that and the comfort of three sympathetic girls soon restored his wandering wits and he was as ready to talk as they to listen.

“You do forgive, don’t you, dear old John?”

“Sure, lassie, there’s nought about forgiveness, uther side. It was a bit misunderstandin’ was all. The wee woman a-pleadin’ for treats out of pocket, and me thinkin’ hard o’ Robin, for coaxin’ an old man to make a fool of hissel’. Me feeling that minute as if ’twas all his fault and thinking I’d cherished a snake, a reptile, in my buzzum, and sayin’ it out loud, likes I have a bad habit of doing.

“Silly I was, not remembering how’t a child takes all things literal. Ha, ha, ha! To think it! When I scalded mysel’ with the hot tea the bairnie should fancy I yelled at a sarpent’s bite! Sure, I could split my sides a-laughin’ but for the hurt I gave her. How is she doin’, lass? I’ve waited this long spell for someone to pass by and give me the word, but nobody has. Leastwise, them that passes has no mind for old John in his dumps.”

“Why, Mr. Gilpin, she wasn’t hurt at all; and it’s just as you said. She thought you had a real snake in your clothes and it had bitten you. She’s all right now, right as can be; and so will you be as soon as you get home and into your wife’s good care. She – ”

“Ah, my Dorothy! ’Tis she I dread. Not a word’ll she say, like enough, but the look she will give to my silly face – Hmm. She’s a rare silent woman is my Dame, but she can do a power o’ thinkin’.”

“Yes, she can, and the first thing she’ll think is how glad she is to have her husband back again, safe and sound.”

“Aye, but Dorothy, hark ye! I’m safe, I’ll grant ye that; but – sound? ’Tis different letters spells that word. Sound? I’ll no’ be that for weeks to come!” and the poor fellow, who certainly had been badly bruised and lucky to have escaped broken bones, sighed profoundly.

Winifred had an inspiration.

“Speaking of Robins, suppose we write her a round-robin letter? Right here and now, on the back of this letter of Father’s? It’s a grand good letter for me and we’ll write so nicely of you, Mr. John, that it’ll be a good one for her, too.”

“Will ye? A real letter explainin’ about the accident, when the lassie’s toboggan got in our way and we got that mixed ’twas nigh the death of the lot? Dame’d be proud enough to get that letter. Sure, I believe ’twould set her thinkin’ of other things, and she’ll be liker to overlook my foolishness.”

They all laughed at the crafty manner in which he shipped his responsibility for the accident from his shoulders to theirs; but Winifred plumped herself down on the settle beside him and, using it for a desk, concocted an amusing story of the whole day’s happenings. The other girls had less of the gift of writing, but each added a few words and signed her name with a flourish. Altogether it was a wonderful document, so the farmer thought, as Winifred tore that half-sheet from her father’s letter, folded it in a fantastic way and gave it him.

Indeed, he was so pleased with it and so anxious to get it into his wife’s hands that, after turning it over and about, in admiration of the “true lover’s knot” into which Win had folded it, he rose to go away. All his stiffness was forgotten, he almost neglected to drag his lame foot, he firmly declined to stay for supper or any ride with the Oak Knowe team, so completely had the kindness of the three girls cured him.

“A letter for the Dame! Sure she’ll be the proud woman the night, and maybe she’ll think I’d more sense after all. I don’t mind she’d ary letter come before since we was married. Good night, young ladies. Tell the bit woman ’t next time there’ll be nuts in me pockets, all right, and no fear for her o’ more snakes. Good-by.”

They watched him down the path, fairly strutting in his pride over the note which a mere whim on Winifred’s part had suggested, and Dorothy exclaimed:

“What a dear, simple old soul he is! That a tiny thing like that could make so happy. I believe he was more delighted with that half-sheet of your paper than you are with your father’s other half.”

Winifred caught the others about the waist and whirled them indoors again, first gleefully kissing her father’s bit of writing and asking:

“Think so? Then he’s the gladdest person in the world, to-night. Oh – ee!”

“Well, Win, you can be glad without squeezing the breath out of a body, can’t you? Heigho, Robin! Where’d you come from?” said Dolly, as the boy came suddenly upon them from a side hall.

“Why, from the kitchen. The folks there made me eat a lot of good stuff and a woman – I guess it was the housekeeper – she made me put on some of the men’s clothes while she took my knickers and mended them. I’d torn them all to flinders on that slide, or old botched up sled, and she said I was a sight. I was, too. She was awful kind. She made me tell all about Mother and my getting hurt and everything. But she said I ought to go right away and find Mr. Gilpin and get friends with him again. Isn’t it funny? He blames me for all that happened and for teasing him to make that wretched sled, yet, sir, if you’ll believe me he was the one spoke of it first. True! Said he’d never had a toboggan ride in all his life, long as that was, because he hadn’t anybody to go with him. But ‘he’d admire’ to have just one before he died – ”

“He had it, didn’t he?” laughed Winifred.

“He had a hard time getting Mrs. Gilpin’s consent. She treats him as if he were a little boy, worse’n Mother does me, but he doesn’t get mad at all. He thinks she’s the most wonderful woman in the world, but I must find him and put myself right with him before we go home and tackle her. He’ll need my help then more’n he did makin’ that beastly sled! It was awful – really awful – the way he went rolling down that icy slide, but to save my life I can’t help laughing when I think of it. Can you?”

At the lad’s absurd movements, as he now pictured John’s remarkable “ride” they all laughed; but suddenly Dorothy demanded:

“You sit right down yonder on that settle and wait for me. You can’t find Mr. Gilpin, now, he’s far on the road home. But there’s something I must ask Miss Tross-Kingdon – ”

“No! You don’t ask Miss Tross-Kingdon one single thing till I’ve had my ask first, Dorothy Calvert! Here I’m nearly crazy, trying to hold in my secret, and – ”

“I claim my chance too! I’ve a petition of my own if you please and let the first to arrive win!” shouted Gwendolyn, speeding after the other two toward the “audience chamber.”

Thus deserted, Robin laughed and curled up on the bench to wait; while the Lady Principal’s sanctum was boisterously invaded by three petitioners, forgetful of the required decorum, and each trying to forestall the others, with her:

“Oh! Miss Muriel, may I – ?” “Please, Miss Tross-Kingdon, my father’s – ”

“Hear me first, dear Lady Principal, before he gets away. Can – ”

But the Lady Principal merely clapped her hands over her ears and ordered:

“One at a time. Count twenty.”

CHAPTER XV

MRS. JARLEY ENTERTAINS

“I’ve counted! And I beg pardon for rushing in here like that. But I was afraid the others had favors to ask and I wanted to get mine in first!” said Gwendolyn, after the brief pause Miss Tross-Kingdon had suggested.

“Oh! you sweet, unselfish thing!” mocked Winifred, “your favor can’t be half as fine as mine – ”

“Nor mine! Oh! do please let me speak first, for fear he gets away!” begged Dorothy, eagerly.

“First come first served, Dolly, please!” coaxed Gwendolyn and the teacher nodded to her to speak.

“Mine’s for next Saturday. Mrs. Jarley’s Wax Works are to be in town and Mamma says if you’ll allow I may invite the whole school to go. She’ll have big sleighs sent out for us and will let us have supper at the hotel where she stops. May we go?”

“Wait a moment, Gwendolyn. Did you say the ‘whole school’?”

Each year Lady Jane had allowed her daughter to entertain her schoolmates in some such manner but the number had, heretofore, been limited to “Peers” only. Such a wholesale invitation as this required some explanation.

Gwendolyn’s eyes fell and her cheek flushed, while the other girls listened in wondering delight for her answer, which came after some hesitation. But came frankly at last in the girl’s own manner.

“I’m ashamed now of the silly notions I used to have. I wanted to do something which would prove that I am; so instead of picking out a few of what we called ‘our set’ I want every girl at Oak Knowe to join us. You’ll understand, of course, that there will be no expense to anybody. It’s Mamma’s farewell treat to us girls, before she goes abroad. May she and I give it?”

“Indeed, you may, Gwendolyn, if the Bishop approves. With the understanding that no lessons are neglected. The winter is about over. Spring exams are near, and ‘Honors’ or even ‘Distinction’ will not be won without hard work.”

“Thank you, Miss Muriel. May I go now and ask the Bishop, then tell the girls?”

“Certainly,” and there was an expression of greater pleasure on the lady’s face than on that of Gwendolyn’s even.

Winifred executed what she called a “war dance” as Gwen disappeared, crying:

“That’s what I call a wholesale burying of the hatchet! That ‘Honorable’ young woman is distinguishing herself. Don’t you think so, Miss Muriel?”

“I am pleased. I am very pleased. Gwendolyn has surely dropped her foolishness and I’m proud of her. It’s so much safer for anyone to be normal, without fads or fancies – ”

“Oh! come now, you dear Schoolma’am! Never mind the pretty talk just this minute, ’cause I can’t wait to tell you – Father’s coming – my Father is coming and a proper good time with him! If you’ll only remember I wasn’t saucy then – A girl you’d raised to hand, like me, couldn’t really be saucy, could she? And – and please just wait a minute. Please let me talk first. Because I can’t ask everybody, but my darling Father means just as well as Lady Jane. His invite is only for a dozen – round baker’s dozen, to take a trip in his car to Montreal and visit the Ice Palace! Think of that! The beautiful Ice Palace that I’ve never seen in all my life. If you’ll say ‘yes,’ if you’ll be the picker out of ’em, besides yourself and Miss Hexam and Dawkins – Oh! dear! You three grown-ups take off three from my dozen-thirteen! But there’ll be ten left, any way, and please say yes and how many days we may be gone and – Oh! I love you, Miss Muriel, you know I do!”

The lady Principal calmly loosened Winifred’s clasping arms, and smilingly looked into the sparkling, pleading eyes before her. Who could be stern with the whimsical child she had cared for during so many years, and under whose apparently saucy manner, lay a deep love and respect? She did not enlighten the pleader on the fact that this was no new thing she had just heard; nor that there had been written communications passing between Mr. Christie and the Bishop with consent already won. But she put her answer off by saying:

“We’ll see about it, Winifred: and I’m glad there was nobody save Dorothy here to see you so misbehave! But if we go, and if the selection is left to me, I may not please you; for I should choose those whose record for good conduct is highest and whose preparation for exams is most complete.”

Winifred wrinkled her brows. Of course she, as hostess couldn’t be counted either out or in, but she knew without telling that but few of her own class-ten would be allowed to go. They were the jolliest “ten” at Oak Knowe and oftener in disgrace about lessons than free from it.

“Oh! dear! I do wish we’d dreamed this treat was coming! I’d have forced the ‘Aldriches’ to study as hard as they played – if – if I had to do it at the point of my mahl-stick. I guess it’ll be a lesson to them.”

“I trust it will, dear, but Dorothy has waited all this time. Three little maids with three little wishes, regular fairy-tale like, and two of them granted already. What’s yours, Dorothy?”

Since listening to the others’ requests, her own seemed very simple, almost foolish; but she answered promptly:

“I want to get you a boot-boy.”

Winifred laughed.

“Hey, Dolly! To switch off from a private-car-ice-palace-trip into a boot-boy’s jacket is funny enough. Who’s the candidate you’re electioneering for?”

Miss Muriel hushed Winifred’s nonsense which had gone far enough and was due, she knew, to the girl’s wild delight over her father’s promised visit.

“If you could find a good one for me, Dorothy, you would certainly be doing me a favor, not I one for you. Whom do you mean?”

“Robin Locke, Miss Tross-Kingdon. He’s so very poor.”

“Poverty isn’t always a recommendation for usefulness. Is he old enough? Is it that lad who came with Mr. Gilpin?”

“Yes, Miss Muriel. He’s just the loveliest boy I’ve seen in Canada – ”

“The only one, except Jack!” interrupted Winifred.

“It was because of me and my carelessness he got hurt and broke himself. He was carrying my telegram that I ought to have sent long before and he was so starved he fell off his bicycle and always ever since I’ve wished I could help him some way and he’d have such a nice home here and he wouldn’t bring in goats, and his mother could do things to help and I thought maybe he could do the shoes and other things would be easier than what he did and could be a golf-boy for the Bishop when the time comes and it’s pretty near and – ”

“There, Dorothy, take your breath, and put a comma or two into your sentences. Then we’ll talk about this project of yours. Where’s Robin now?”

“Right out on the settle this minute waiting – if he hasn’t gone away – May I – ”

“Yes, honey, step-an’-fetch him!” laughed Winifred again, “he’s used to that sort of talk.”

Away flashed Dorothy and now, at a really serious rebuke from the Lady Principal, Winifred sobered her lively spirits to be an interested witness of the coming interview, as Dorothy came speeding back, literally dragging the shy Robin behind her.

But, as before, the presence of other young folks and Miss Muriel’s first question put him at his ease.

“Robin, are you willing to work rather hard, in a good home, for your mother and to provide one for her, too?”

“Why, of course, Ma’am. That’s what I was a-doin’ when I fell off. Goody! Wouldn’t I? Did you ever see my mother, lady?”

“Yes, Robin, at our Hallowe’en Party,” answered Miss Tross-Kingdon, smiling into the beautiful, animated face of this loyal son.

“You’d like her, Ma’am, you couldn’t help it. She’s ‘the sweetest thing in the garden,’ Father used to say, and he knew. She feels bad now, thinking we’ve been so long at the farmer’s ’cause she don’t see how ’t we ever can pay them. And the doctor, too. Oh! Ma’am, did you hear tell of such a place? Do you think I could get it?”

“Yes, lad, I did hear of just such, for Dorothy told me. It’s right here at Oak Knowe. The work is to pick up row after row of girls’ shoes, standing over night outside their bedroom doors and to blacken them, or whiten them, as the case might be, and to have them punctually back in place, in time for their owners to put on. Cleaning boots isn’t such a difficult task as it is a tedious one. The maids complain that it’s more tiresome than scrubbing, and a boy I knew grew very careless about his work. If I asked you and your mother to come here to live, would you get tired? Or would she dislike to help care for the linen mending? Of course, you would be paid a fair wage as well as she. What do you think?”

What Robin thought was evident: for away he ran to Dorothy’s side and catching her hand kissed it over and over.

“Oh! you dear, good girl! It was you who helped the doctor set my bones, it was you who let me slide on your new toboggan, and it’s you who’ve ‘spoke for me’ to this lady. Oh! I do thank you. And now I’m not afraid to go back and see Mr. Gilpin. He was so vexed with me because he thought – May I go now, Ma’am? and when do you want us, Mother and me?”

“To-morrow morning, at daybreak. Will you be here?”

“Will I not? Oh! good-by. I must go quick! and tell my Mother that she needn’t worry any more. Oh! how glad I am!”

With a bow toward Miss Tross-Kingdon and a gay wave of his hand toward the girls, he vanished from the room, fairly running down the corridor and whistling as he went. The rules of Oak Knowe had yet all to be learned but it certainly was a cheerful “noise in halls” to which they listened now.

“And that’s another ‘link’ in life, such as Uncle Seth was always watching for. If I hadn’t delayed that telegram and he hadn’t fallen down and – everything else that happened – Robin would never have had such a lovely chance,” said Dorothy proudly.

“That’s a dangerous doctrine, Dorothy. It’s fine to see the ‘links’ you speak of, but not at all fine to do evil that good may come. I’d rather have you believe that this same good might have come to the lad without your own first mistake. But it’s time for studying Sunday lessons and you must go.”