Dorothy Dale's Queer Holidays
Margaret Penrose
DOROTHY DALE'S QUEER HOLIDAYS
by
MARGARET PENROSE
Author of _Dorothy Dale: A Girl of To-Day_, _Dorothy Dale at GlenwoodSchool_, _Dorothy Dale's Great Secret_, _The Motor Girls_, etc.
Illustrated
New YorkCupples & Leon Company
1910
BOOKS BY MARGARET PENROSE
THE DOROTHY DALE SERIES
Cloth. 12mo. Illustrated
Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid
DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY
DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL
DOROTHY DALE'S GREAT SECRET
DOROTHY DALE AND HER CHUMS
DOROTHY DALE'S QUEER HOLIDAYS
(Other volumes in preparation)
THE MOTOR GIRLS SERIES
Cloth. 12mo. Illustrated
Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid
THE MOTOR GIRLS Or, A Mystery on the Road
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON A TOUR Or, Keeping a Strange Promise
(Other volumes in preparation)
"SHE PROCEEDED TO BRING OUT FROM THE CLOSET THE'GHOST'"--_Page 78_.]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE SAME OLD TAVIA
II WHAT HAPPENED TO TAVIA
III A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW
IV THE TANGLED WEB SHE WOVE
V SHOPPING AND SHOPLIFTERS
VI WHO STOLE THE RING
VII THE HAUNTED WOODS
VIII A MAGAZINE GHOST
IX THE LITTLE WOMAN IN BLACK
X THE THORNS OF A HOLLY WREATH
XI GATHERING EVERGREENS
XII THE SCREAM FROM THE CASTLE
XIII COLLEGE BOYS AND GLENWOOD GIRLS
XIV TAVIA'S TROUBLES
XV DOROTHY AS A COMFORTER
XVI A DELICATE DISCOVERY
XVII SPRUCE BOUGHS AND LAUREL WREATHS
XVIII DOROTHY'S DISTRESS
XIX BETWEEN THE LINES
XX THE ENTERTAINMENT
XXI A STRANGE CONFESSION
XXII STORMBOUND AT TANGLEWOOD
XXIII THE GHOST THAT REALLY WALKED
XXIV THE RESCUE
XXV YOUTH AND OLD AGE
XXVI THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
XXVII ALL IS WELL
CHAPTER I
THE SAME OLD TAVIA
"She very probably will miss her train, we will miss her at the station,she will take a ride up with old Bill Mason, stay talking to him untildinner is too cold to wait any longer; then--then--well, she may steal inthrough a window and give you a midnight scare, just for a joke. That's myrecollection of Miss Tavia."
"Nat, you're too mean--Tavia is not always late, and she doesn't purposelyupset plans. Some things can't be prevented."
"Right, little coz, they can't. That's right. Tavia is one of the thingsthat can't be prevented from--"
"Quit! quit there! Easy with young ladies' names! You don't have to--toput her up for the registry," and the last speaker swung around in mockchallenge, with his fist very close to his brother's aristocratic nose.
The three were Dorothy, Ned and Nat. Dorothy Dale was the "coz," a verypretty and attractive young girl, while her two good-looking cousins, Nedthe elder and Nat the jollier, were sons of Mrs. Winthrop White, of NorthBirchland.
Dorothy, with her father, Major Dale, and her two brothers, Joe and Roger,the latter about two years younger than his brother, who was not yet inhis 'teens, made her home with Major Dale's sister, Mrs. White, where theyhad lived for the past few years. It was now holiday time, and Dorothy wasawaiting the arrival of her chum, Tavia Travers, of Dalton, the formerhome of the Dales.
We may say Dorothy was waiting, but the boys were--well, they may have hadto wait until Miss Tavia got there, but one of them, Nat, evidently didnot find "waiting" very pleasant employment. The fact was, Tavia was avery good friend of Nat, and because of this his brother enjoyed teasingDorothy about her chum's shortcomings, especially when Nat was withinhearing.
"She said the 4:10, didn't she?" asked Nat for the fourth time in as manyminutes.
"And meant the 10:04," put in Ned, before Dorothy could reply.
"Neddie, I've warned you--" and Nat "squared off" in a threateningmanner.
"Boys! boys!" pleaded Dorothy, stepping in between them with her handsraised to prevent possible trouble.
"Well, if you insist," said Nat, with a very gallant bow. "In deference toa lady's presence I will not exterminate the--the bug."
"Bug!" echoed Ned, stepping closer.
"Yes, I said bug," repeated his brother. "They are such--such unpleasantthings to have to exterminate."
The two boys had now assumed attitudes generally supposed to be the verybest possible in preparation for a fistic encounter, and Dorothy had justjumped upon a chair to be able to reach her taller cousin and preventanything serious happening, when a very gentle voice from the doorwayinterrupted the little scene.
"Children! children!" exclaimed Mrs. White, "Boxing in the library!"
Instantly the trio turned toward this beautiful woman, for she wasbeautiful indeed.
So stately, so tall, so queenly, and gowned in such a simple yetattractive house robe. Youth may have its glories, but surely maturewomanhood has its compensations, for a queenly woman, in the ease andluxury of home costume, is to the eye of love and to the eyes ofdiscriminating persons the most beautiful of all the pictures thatfemininity is capable of inspiring.
Such was Mrs. White, and no wonder, indeed, that she had such good-lookingsons, and no wonder, either, that Dorothy Dale was proud to be told thatshe resembled her Aunt Winnie.
Mrs. White's Christian name was Ruth, but the Dale children, havinganother aunt of that name, had always called this one Aunt Winnie, a sortof contraction from the name of Mrs. White's late husband--Winthrop.
This afternoon, when our story opens, was one of those tiresome "strips oftime," with nothing to mark it as different from any other occasion, but,as Nat expressed it, "everything seemed to be hanging around, waiting forChristmas, like New York, on Sunday, waiting for Monday."
The little party were vainly trying to make themselves happy in thelibrary, where every reasonable comfort and luxury surrounded them, forThe Cedars, as this country estate was called, was a very beautiful place,its interior arrangements reflected not only ample means, but a display ofthe finely original and cultured taste for which Mrs. White was famous.
Mrs. White was not afflicted with the "clutter" habit, and, inconsequence, her room rested instead of tiring those fortunate enough tobe welcomed within the portals of The Cedars.
So on this afternoon the wintry winds outside accentuated the comfortswithin, and our friends, while restless and naturally impatient for thearrival of Tavia, could not but appreciate their happy circumstances.
You may not all be acquainted with the books of this series, in which arerelated many important events in the lives of Dorothy Dale, her family andher friends, so something about the volumes that precede this will not beout of place.
In the first book, "Dorothy Dale; a Girl of To-day," was told of Dorothy'shome life in the little village of Dalton. There Dorothy and her friendTavia grew like two flowers in the same garden--very different from eachother, but both necessary to the beauty of the spot.
The dangers of the country to children who venture too far out in thefields and woods were shown in the startling experience Dorothy and Taviahad when Miles Anderson, a cunning lunatic, followed them from place toplace, terrifying them with the idea of obtaining from Dorothy someinformation which
would enable him to get control of some money left to alittle orphan--Nellie Burlock.
Real country life had its joys, however, as Dorothy and Tavia found, forthey had many happy times in Dalton.
In the second volume, "Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School," there is giventhe natural sequence to such an auspicious beginning as the days atDalton.
There were jolly girls at Glenwood, and some strange "doings" took place,all of which went to show that a girl need not go to college to haveplenty of fun out of her schooldays, but that the boarding-school, orseminary, is well qualified to afford all the "prank possibilities" ofreal, grown-up school life.
In "Dorothy Dale's Great Secret," the third of the series, there is shownwhat it means for a girl to be allowed too much liberty; to grow ambitiousbefore she has grown wise; to act imprudently, and then to have to sufferthe consequences.
It was Tavia who ran away to go on the stage, it was Dorothy who found herand brought her back. And Dorothy kept her "secret," though what it costher only she knew.
The book immediately preceding this volume, entitled "Dorothy Dale and herChums," tells the story of Dorothy, Tavia, Urania, a gypsy girl, andMiette, a little French lass. Dorothy had plenty of trouble trying tocivilize Urania, and quite as much trying to save Miette some strangehardships. Dorothy was instrumental in bringing Miette into her own familyrights, and if she did not entirely succeed in "taming" Urania, she atleast improved her marvelously.
In all four of the preceding books the friends, whose acquaintance some ofyou are forming for the first time, played their respective parts as bestthey might, and now, as we find them on this wintry afternoon, they areready to take part in other scenes, no less interesting, I hope.
Dorothy, Ned and Nat, at the sound of Mrs. White's admonition as sheentered the library, turned to look at her in some surprise, for they weretaken unawares.
Ned and Nat were always going to "fight," but they never actually did getat it. In fact, they were both blessed with a reasonable amount of goodnature, and this, coupled with correct training, was destined to make themmen of patience and common sense.
Of course, this time they were only joking, so the "boxing" their motherhad somewhat jestingly accused them of was all part of the game.
Dorothy smoothed the cushions of the divan as her aunt advanced into theroom. Ned and Nat both attempted to poke the same log in the open gratewith the same poker, and the blaze that most unexpectedly shot up at thisinterference with a well-regulated fire, attending strictly to its ownaffairs, caused both young men to leap quickly back out of reach of ashower of sparks.
"Whew!" exclaimed Nat, falling over an ottoman that Dorothy had beenlately sitting on, and landing very ungracefully at his mother's feet."Mother, I adore you!" he suddenly exclaimed as he found himself in asuppliant attitude. "Only," he went on ruefully, rubbing his shins, "I didnot intend to adore you quite so hard."
"A three-bagger," joked Ned, for indeed his brother's position over the"bag" was not unlike that of a baseball player "hugging the base."
"But you were just saying, as I came in," spoke Mrs. White, "somethingabout Tavia's coming. She has not sent any word--any regrets, or anythingof that sort, has she?"
"Why, no," answered Dorothy, "We were just saying that she might be herebefore we know it--"
"Who said that?" demanded Nat, promptly scrambling to his feet.
"_Before_ we know it," repeated Ned, with special emphasis on the"before."
"However do you bear with them, Doro dear?" asked Mrs. White. "They seemto grow more unmanageable every day."
Then Dorothy, making herself heard above the argument, said:
"Boys, if we are going to meet Tavia--"
"_If_ we are going to meet her!" exclaimed Nat, interrupting his prettycousin, and putting a great deal of emphasis on the first word. "There'sno 'if' in this deal. We are going," and he sprang up and continuedspringing until he reached his own room, where he proceeded to "slick upsome," as he expressed it, while Ned, and Dorothy, too, prepared for therun to the depot in the Fire Bird, as speedy an automobile as could befound in all the country around North Birchland.
"Take plenty of robes," cautioned Mrs. White as the machine puffed andthrobbed up to the front door. "It's getting colder, I think, and may snowat any moment."
"No such luck," grumbled Nat. "I never saw such fine, cold weather, andnot a flake of snow. What's that about a 'green Christmas, and a fatgraveyard'? Isn't there some proverb to that effect?"
"Oh, I surely think it will snow before Christmas," said Dorothy. "And wehave plenty of robes, auntie, if the storm should come up suddenly."
"Come down, you mean," teased Ned, who seemed to be in just the propermood for that sort of thing.
Dorothy laughed in retort. She enjoyed her cousins' good nature, and wasnever offended at their way of making fun at her expense.
Presently all was in readiness, and the Fire Bird swung out on thecedar-lined road and into the broad highway that led to the railroadstation.
"I would just like to bet," remarked the persistent Ned as the stationcame into view at the end of the long road, "I would just like to betalmost anything that she will not come."
"Take you up!" answered Nat quickly. "I know she'll come."
"Oh, you feel her presence near," joked Ned. "Well, if she comes on timethis trip there may be some hope for the poor wretch who may expect her tomake good when he has fixed it up with the parson, the organist and--"
"Silly!" cried Dorothy gaily. "A man never pays the organist at--at anaffair of that kind," and she blushed prettily.
"No?" questioned Ned in surprise. "Glad to hear it. Here, Nat, take thiswheel while I make a note of it. A little thing like that is worthremembering," and he pretended to take out a notebook and jot it down.
When the train glided into the station, with a shrill screeching protestfrom the sparking wheels and brakes, and when quite a number of personshad alighted and gone their several ways, Dorothy and Nat, who had peeredhopefully and anxiously at each passenger, looked rather ruefully at eachother. Tavia had not come.
"Well?" asked Nat.
"Let's wait a little longer," suggested Dorothy.
Finally the train started up again, the private carriages and hired hackshad been driven off with scores of passengers and their baggage. Then, andnot until she had looked up and down the deserted platforms, did Dorothyadmit to Nat:
"She hasn't come!"
"Looks like it," replied the lad, plainly very much disappointed.
Ned, who could see what had happened, clapped his gloved hands in unholyglee.
"Didn't I tell you she'd duck?" he demanded triumphantly. "Didn't I tellyou so?"
"Aw shut up!" growled Nat in pardonable anger.
"Ha! ha!" laughed his brother.
"Well, you're enough to hoodoo the whole thing," retorted Nat.
But Ned simply had to laugh--he couldn't help it, and when Dorothy and Nattook their places again in the machine Ned was chuckling and gasping in amanner that threatened to do serious damage to his entire vocal apparatus.
"It would have been a pity to have disappointed you in your fun," remarkedNat sarcastically after a particularly gleeful yelp from Ned. "What youwould have missed had she come!"
"But I can't understand it," said Dorothy. "There is no other train untileight o'clock to-night."
"And that's a local that stops at every white-washed fence," added Nat.
"Oh, well, then she'll have plenty of time to think of the fine dinner shehas missed," went on his brother. "Of all mean traits, I count that ofbeing late the very meanest a nice girl can have."
"Oh, so then she is nice?" inquired Dorothy with a smile.
"Well, she can be--sometimes. But she was not to-day--eh, Nat?"
"For the land sake, say your prayers, or do--do something!" exclaimed hisirritated brother.
"I might," retorted Ned, "but, being good is such a lonesome job, as somepoet has remarked. Now, having fun is--"
&n
bsp; "Look out there!" cautioned Nat suddenly. "You nearly ran over Mrs.Brocade's pet pup."
A tiny dog, of the much-admired, white-silk variety, was barkingvigorously at the Fire Bird on account of the danger to which it had beensubjected by the fat tires. And the dog's mistress, Mrs. Broadbent,nicknamed "Brocade" on account of her weakness for old-time silks andsatins, was saying things about the auto party in much the same sort ofaggrieved tones that the favorite dog was using.
"Wait until she meets you at the post-office," Nat reminded Ned. "Maybeshe won't rustle her silks and satins at you."
But Ned only laughed, and kept on laughing as his mother appeared in thevestibule with a puzzled look at the empty seat in the tonneau of the FireBird.
Dorothy was the first to reach the porch.
"She didn't come," was her wholly unnecessary remark as Mrs. White openedthe outer door.
"Isn't that strange!" replied the aunt. "Do you suppose anything couldhave happened?"
"I don't know. I hope not. She promised so definitely that I can'tunderstand it," went on Dorothy.
Nat remained in the car as Ned drove it to the garage.
"I'm so sorry, after all the extra trouble to get up a good dinner,"apologized Dorothy as she laid aside her wraps.
"Oh, well, we can all enjoy that," replied Mrs. White, "although, ofcourse, we had counted on Tavia's presence. She is so jolly that the boyswill be much disappointed."
"I'm just ashamed of her," went on Dorothy in a burst of indignation. "Sheshould have learned by this time to keep her word, or else send somemessage."
"Yes, I am afraid Tavia does not care for the conventionalities of politesociety," remarked Mrs. White. "In fact, I almost suspect she enjoysdisregarding them. But never mind! we must not condemn her unheard."
