Dorothy at Oak Knowe

by Evelyn Raymond

  CHAPTER XIV

  EXPLANATIONS ARE IN ORDER

  Dorothy ran straight to the Lady Principal's room, too horrified bywhat she imagined was the case to pause on the way and too excited tofeel the heavy burden she carried.

  Nobody met her to stop her or inquire what had happened. Gwendolyn hadbeen called to join her mother and had seen nothing of the incident,and Dorothy burst into the pretty parlor--only to find it empty.Laying Millikins down on the couch she started to find help, but waspromptly called back by the child herself.

  "Where you going, Dolly Doodles? What you carry me for, running so?"

  "Why--why--darling--can you _speak_? Are you _alive_? Oh! youdear--you dear! I thought you were killed!" cried the relieved girlkneeling beside the couch and hugging the astonished little one.

  "Why for can't I speak, Dorothy? Why for can't I be alive? The'reptile' didn't bite me, it bited _him_. That's why he hollered soand flung things. See, Dolly, I'm all wet with smelly stuff like'meddy' some kind, that Dawkins made him. And what you think? Soon'she started drinking it the 'reptile' must not have liked it and musthave bited him to make him stop--'Ou-u-c-ch!' Just like that he saidit, an' course I runned, an' the tea-pot flew, an' I fell down, andyou come, grabbed me and said things, and--and--But the reptile didn'tget Gracie, did it? No it didn't, 'cause I runned like anything, and'cause you come, and--Say, Dolly! I guess I'd rather see 'em in thebook. I guess I don't want to get acquainted with no live ones like Ithought I did. No, sir!"

  "What in the world do you mean, Baby? Whatever are you talking about?Oh! you mischief, you gave poor Dolly such a fright when you fell downlike that!"

  "Why, Dolly Doodles, how funny! I fall down lots of times. Some days Ifall down two-ten-five times, and sometimes I'd cry, but Auntie Prindon't like that. She'll say right off: 'There, Millikins, I wouldn'tbother to do that. You haven't hurt the floor any.' So course I stop.'Cause if I had hurted the floor she'd let me cry a lot. She said so,once. Mr. Gilpin didn't have a single nut in his pockets. He said so.And he talked awful funny! Not as if to me at all, so must ha' been tothe 'reptile' in his 'buzzum.' Do 'reptiles' buzz, Dolly, same assting-bees do? And wouldn't you rather carry nuts in your pockets forsuch nice little girls as me, than crawly things inside your smock tobite you? I think a smock's the funniest kind of clothes, and Mr.Gilpin's the funniest kind of man inside 'em. Don't you?"

  "If either one can match you for funniness, you midget, I'll lose myguess. Seems if this had been the 'funniest' kind of day ever was. ButI'll give you up till you get ready to explain your 'reptile' talk.Changing the subject, did you get a slide to-day?"

  "Yes, lots of them. What do think? I didn't have anybody give me anice new toboggan with my name on it, like you had; so the Bishop hetold Auntie Prin that he'd look out for me this year same's he didlast year. I hadn't grown so much bigger, he thought. Course he'sterrible big and I'm terrible little, so all he does is tuck me insidehis great toboggan coat. Buttons it right around me--this way--so Inever could slip out, could I? And I don't have to hold on at all heholds on for me and Auntie's not afraid, that way. Don't you think itwas terrible nice for Gwendolyn to give you your things?"

  "What things, dear? Gwen has given me nothing that I know of. Is thisanother mystery of yours?"

  "It isn't not no mystery, I don't know what them are, except whengirls like you get lost right in their own houses and don't get foundagain right soon. But I know 'secrets.' Secrets are what the one youhave 'em about don't get told. That was a secret about your things,Gwen said. You didn't get told, did you?"

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

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

  "So Gwen said, no, she didn't need 'em and you did. She guessed yourfolks hadn't much money, she'd overheard the Bishop say so. That's theway she knows everything is 'cause she always 'overhears.' I toldAuntie Prin that I thought that was terrible nice, and I'd like tolearn 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 nothingbut bread and water to eat, until I forgot the art. Just like thatshe said it! Seems if overhearing is badness. She does so wantGwendolyn to be really noble. Auntie Prin thinks it noble for Gwen togive up her blankets and to have that be-a-u-tiful toboggan bought foryou with your name on it. You aren't real poor, are you, Dolly? Notlike the beggar folks come 'tramping' by and has 'victuals' given tothem? Bishop says all little girls must be good to the poor. That'swhen he wants me to put my pennies in my Mite Box for the littleheathen. I don't so much care about the heathen and Hugh--"

  But Dorothy suddenly put the child down, knowing that once startedupon 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 hadhurled at him. Nothing now remained in her mind but thoughts ofGwendolyn's rich gifts and indignation against her. Why had she doneit? As a sort of payment for Dorothy's assistance at the Maiden'sBath?

  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 nothingfurther have happened to you, to-day."

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

  "You are all wrong, Dorothy. I am sure that there was no such thoughtas payment for any deed of yours in poor Gwendolyn's mind. You havebeen invariably kind to her in every way possible; and until thischance came she had found none in which to show you that she realizedthis and loved you for it. Why, my dear, if you could have seen herhappiness when I told her it was a beautiful thing for her to do, youwould certainly have understood her and been glad to give her thechance she was glad to take. It is often harder to accept favors thanto bestow them. It takes more grace. Now, dear, let's call that 'ghostlaid,' as Dawkins says. Hunt up Gwen, tell her how grateful you are toher for her rich, unselfish gifts, and--do it with a real Dorothyface; 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 sothankful that you chose her this morning without knowing."

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

  "Now, Gwen, that we've settled _that_, let's go and see what we can dofor Robin. Heigho, Winifred! you're just in time to aid a worthycause--Come on to Lady Principal!"

  "Exactly whither I was bound!" waving a letter overhead. "Goinga-begging, my dears, if you please!" she returned, clasping Gwen'swaist on one side to walk three abreast. A trivial action in itselfbut 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 justdiscovered one--by way of chattering Millikins-Pillikins. Guess it."

  "I couldn't, Dolly, I'm too full of my own. As for that child'stalk--but half of it has sense."

  "So I thought, too, listening to her. But _half did_ have sense andthat is--Who do you think gave me my beautiful toboggan things?"

  "Why, your Aunt Betty, I suppose, since she does everything else foryou," answered Winifred promptly. "Anyhow, don't waste time onguesses--Tell!"

  Then she glanced up into Gwendolyn's face and sa
w how happy it was,and hastily added:

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

  "Good for you, Win, you guessed right at once!" answered Dolly tryingto 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 ofthe hall, Dorothy caught sight of Mr. Gilpin, evidently just departingfrom the house. A more dejected figure could scarcely be imagined, nora more ludicrous one, as he limped toward the entrance, hands on hipsand himself bent forward forlornly. Below his rough top-coat which hehad discarded on his arrival, hung the tatters of his smock that hadbeen worn to ribbons by his roll down the slide.

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

  "Looks as if he had two foreheads!" said Winifred, who couldn't helplaughing at his comical appearance, with part of his baldness showingat front and back of the borrowed hat.

  Dorothy laughed, too, yet felt a guilty regret at the way she hadspoken to him. She had accused him of "trying to kill her" as well asGwen and little Grace; but he "kill anything"? Wicked, even to saythat.

  "There goes John Gilpin, and, girls, I must speak to him. Come--Ican't let him go that way!"

  As his "good foot" crossed the threshold Dorothy's hand was on hisshoulder and her voice begging:

  "Oh! please, Mr. Gilpin! Do forgive that horrible thing I said! Ididn't know, I didn't understand, I didn't mean it--I thought--itlooked--Do come back just a minute and let me explain."

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

  "Why, 'tis the little maid! hersel' that was cryin' that night on thebig 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 floorand the broken pot beside her I thought--you'd--you'd tried--andaccount of your sled hitting Gwen and me--Do come in and rest. You'reworse hurt than anybody thought, I'm afraid. There, there, that'sright. Come back and rest till the team goes into town for theSaturday night's supplies. It always goes you know, and Michael willget 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 seathim on the settle beside the radiator. The warmth of that and thecomfort of three sympathetic girls soon restored his wandering witsand 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 abit misunderstandin' was all. The wee woman a-pleadin' for treats outof pocket, and me thinkin' hard o' Robin, for coaxin' an old man tomake a fool of hissel'. Me feeling that minute as if 'twas all hisfault and thinking I'd cherished a snake, a reptile, in my buzzum, andsayin' 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 thebairnie should fancy I yelled at a sarpent's bite! Sure, I could splitmy 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 methe word, but nobody has. Leastwise, them that passes has no mind forold 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 bittenyou. She's all right now, right as can be; and so will you be as soonas 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 silentwoman 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 tohave 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 forweeks to come!" and the poor fellow, who certainly had been badlybruised and lucky to have escaped broken bones, sighed profoundly.

  Winifred had an inspiration.

  "Speaking of Robins, suppose we write her a round-robin letter? Righthere and now, on the back of this letter of Father's? It's a grandgood letter for me and we'll write so nicely of you, Mr. John, thatit'll be a good one for her, too."

  "Will ye? A real letter explainin' about the accident, when thelassie's toboggan got in our way and we got that mixed 'twas nigh thedeath of the lot? Dame'd be proud enough to get that letter. Sure, Ibelieve 'twould set her thinkin' of other things, and she'll be likerto overlook my foolishness."

  They all laughed at the crafty manner in which he shipped hisresponsibility for the accident from his shoulders to theirs; butWinifred plumped herself down on the settle beside him and, using itfor 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 fewwords and signed her name with a flourish. Altogether it was awonderful document, so the farmer thought, as Winifred tore thathalf-sheet from her father's letter, folded it in a fantastic way andgave it him.

  Indeed, he was so pleased with it and so anxious to get it into hiswife's hands that, after turning it over and about, in admiration ofthe "true lover's knot" into which Win had folded it, he rose to goaway. All his stiffness was forgotten, he almost neglected to drag hislame foot, he firmly declined to stay for supper or any ride with theOak Knowe team, so completely had the kindness of the three girlscured him.

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

  They watched him down the path, fairly strutting in his pride over thenote which a mere whim on Winifred's part had suggested, and Dorothyexclaimed:

  "What a dear, simple old soul he is! That a tiny thing like that couldmake so happy. I believe he was more delighted with that half-sheet ofyour paper than you are with your father's other half."

  Winifred caught the others about the waist and whirled them indoorsagain, 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 abody, can't you? Heigho, Robin! Where'd you come from?" said Dolly, asthe boy came suddenly upon them from a side hall.

  "Why, from the kitchen. The folks there made me eat a lot of goodstuff and a woman--I guess it was the housekeeper--she made me put onsome 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 mademe tell all about Mother and my getting hurt and everything. But shesaid I ought to go right away and find Mr. Gilpin and get friends withhim again. Isn't it funny? He blames _me_ for all that happened andfor teasing him to make that wretched sled, yet, sir, if you'llbelieve me he was the one spoke of it first. True! Said he'd never hada toboggan ride in all his life, long as that was, because he hadn'tanybody to go with him. But 'he'd admire' to have just one before hedied--"

  "He had it, didn't he?" laughed Winifred.

  "He had a hard time getting Mrs. Gilpin's consent. She treats him asif he were a little boy, worse'n Mother does me, but he doesn't getmad at all. He thinks she's the most wonderful woman in the world, butI must find him and put myself right with him before we go home andtackle her. He'll need my help then more'n he did makin' that
beastlysled! It was awful--really awful--the way he went rolling down thaticy slide, but to save my life I can't help laughing when I think ofit. 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'tfind Mr. Gilpin, now, he's far on the road home. But there's somethingI must ask Miss Tross-Kingdon--"

  "No! You don't ask Miss Tross-Kingdon one single thing till I've hadmy ask first, Dorothy Calvert! Here I'm nearly crazy, trying to holdin my secret, and--"

  "I claim my chance too! I've a petition of my own if you please andlet the first to arrive win!" shouted Gwendolyn, speeding after theother two toward the "audience chamber."

  Thus deserted, Robin laughed and curled up on the bench to wait; whilethe Lady Principal's sanctum was boisterously invaded by threepetitioners, forgetful of the required decorum, and each trying toforestall the others, with her:

  "Oh! Miss Muriel, may I--?" "Please, Miss Tross-Kingdon, myfather's--"

  "Hear me first, dear Lady Principal, before he gets away. Can--"

  But the Lady Principal merely clapped her hands over her ears andordered:

  "One at a time. Count twenty."