CHAPTER II
THE ARRIVAL
For the next few days there was much talk of clothes and packing, oftrains and time-tables, and it was a matter of some discussion asto the best way for the little girls to make their journey of somehundreds of miles. Dorothy had never been so far away from home, andwas therefore the more excited of the two. After some writing back andforth it was decided that the two children should go to the city underMr. Conway's care and there he turned them over to Mr. Ramsey who wasto join his family at the seashore in about a week.
"Do you suppose we shall get homesick?" asked Dorothy as the time drewnear for them to make their start.
"Oh, I hope not," returned Edna fervently. "I was awfully homesick atAunt Elizabeth's, but this will be quite different, for there will beJennie, and Mrs. Ramsey is a real mother; besides we shall have oneanother."
"I know all that," returned Dorothy a little dubiously, "but Jennie'smother won't be mine nor yours."
Edna was willing to admit this, but she had gone through some rathertrying experiences and was not disposed to think that anything butpleasant times awaited them. As Jennie had pictured it the visit wasto be one long season of delight, so Edna said determinedly. "Well, Idon't intend to be homesick."
"Then I'll try not to be," returned Dorothy, not to be outdone incourage.
However, when the trunks stood ready packed, and Edna said good nightfor the last time before undertaking the journey, she held her mothervery tightly around the neck and whispered: "I wish you were going too,Mother."
"That can't be, darling," said her mother. "You will have such a finetime that you will not miss your mother at all."
"Oh, but I shall," returned Edna, half wishing she were not going afterall. "I 'most wish it was time to come back instead of time to go."
Her mother laughed. "And this is the little girl who could scarcelywait to be told she could go. Never mind, dearie, you will feel quitedifferently to-morrow morning. Now go to sleep, for you must get upbright and early, you know."
Edna settled down with a sigh, but, in spite of her excitement,she soon fell asleep to waken in the morning with the feeling thatsomething very important was to happen. Her mother came in to see thatshe was properly dressed and to tie the bows on her hair. Then just asthey were about to sit down to breakfast, the expressman came for thetrunk, and next Dorothy arrived all impatience.
"Why, Edna, haven't you had breakfast yet?" she asked. "Aren't youafraid we shall be late?"
"We don't have to go till papa does, and he hasn't half finished,"replied Edna. So Dorothy had to possess her soul in patience for therewas no gainsaying the fact that they could not go without Mr. Conway.
At last the good-byes were said, and Edna waved to her mother till shecould no longer see the white figure on the porch. Agnes and Celia hadgone on ahead to the station and the boys were there, too, to see themoff. Soon the train came in sight; in another moment they had beenhelped aboard, and the next they were off. It was but a short ride tothe city, and this part of the journey was not exciting, as it was onewith which they were very familiar. But when they were ushered into Mr.Ramsey's private office, they felt that here began their untrod way.
They sat for some time, their feet dangling from their high chairswhile Mr. Ramsey conferred with his clerks in the outer office. Theirtalk was carried on in whispers, though once in a while a stifledgiggle told that they were in good spirits.
At last Mr. Ramsey appeared. "Well, young ladies," he said, "I am sorryI had to leave you so long, but when a man is about to take a holiday,he has so many things to see about that he doesn't know which way toturn." He looked at his watch. "I think we have just about time enoughto get that ten o'clock train." He pressed an electric button and a boyin a grey uniform came to the door. "Take these bags, Edward," said Mr.Ramsey, pointing to the satchels each little girl had placed carefullyby her chair. The boy led the way to the elevator and down they went tothe first floor of the big office building, then to the street where anautomobile stood to whizz them off to the station. Mr. Ramsey directedthe chauffeur to see about the trunks while he conducted the littlegirls to the waiting-room where he left them, returning in a moment tohurry them to the train, and the second part of their journey began.
"I never was in a parlor car before," whispered Dorothy to Edna asthe porter turned their seat to a proper angle and adjusted theirfootstools.
"I was once," replied Edna.
Here Mr. Ramsey handed over some picture papers to them and a box ofchocolates. "I am going into the smoking-car," he said. "Do you thinkyou young ladies can get along a little while without me?"
"We'll try to," replied Edna politely.
"If you want a glass of water or anything, just call the porter," Mr.Ramsey told them and then he left them.
There were not so very many persons in the car to interest them andfor a time the children gave their attention to the newspapers and thebox of chocolates, but after a while they wearied of these, and beganto look at their fellow travellers. A very pretty young lady smiledat them from across the aisle, and an older woman back of her lookedinterested in their movements. After a while this latter person cameover and took the place directly behind them where Mr. Ramsey had beensitting.
"Are you children all alone?" she began the conversation.
"No," replied Dorothy.
"Are you sisters?" was the next question.
"No, we are only friends," Edna answered this time.
"And is the gentleman who came with you your father?"
"No, he is just taking us to his house where we are going to make avisit."
"Is he any relation to you?" came next.
"No relation at all. He is the father of the friend we are going tovisit." It was Dorothy's turn this time.
"And do your mothers approve of your going off this way without amember of your family?"
This question the children thought a very disagreeable one. They lookedat one another before Dorothy made reply. "If it wasn't exactly rightour parents wouldn't let us do it. They never let us do a thing thatisn't exactly right."
"And nobody knows what is right so well as my mother," Edna chimed in.
"Mine, too," put in Dorothy.
"How far did you say you were going?" asked their questioner.
"We didn't say," answered Dorothy, "but we are going to New York."She gave a little frown to Edna, who understood that she was not tovouchsafe any further information. "I just wasn't going to tell herwhere we were really going from New York," Dorothy said to her friendafterward. "It wasn't any of her business."
"New York is a very wicked city," their acquaintance informed them."You must be very careful not to be alone in the streets. I wouldadvise you never to lose sight of your escort for a moment."
Both little girls felt rather glad that they were not to remain in sucha dreadful place, but they made no reply and wished most heartily thatMr. Ramsey would return to his seat and rid them of this undesirablecompanion. Presently Edna had a bright idea. "Would you like to look atsome of our papers?" she asked.
"What have you?" asked the lady putting up her lorgnette.
"We have Life and Puck and Judge and--"
"I'll take Life and Puck." She accepted the papers handed to her andsettled back in the seat she had behind them. The two children lookedat each other with relieved expressions. "Don't you wish Mr. Ramseywould come back?" whispered Edna.
"Yes, but where will he sit?" Dorothy whispered back. They bothsmothered a giggle at this, and looking up Edna caught sight of thepretty young lady looking at them with an amused expression. She made alittle movement with her hand to beckon Edna over to her.
"Is that old turtle quizzing you?" she asked in a low tone. "She is aperfect bore. She tackled me first but I wouldn't talk to her. Are youwondering if she is going to take that seat and keep it?"
"We were wondering what Mr. Ramsey would do," returned Edna.
"I'll tell you what to do; you take her
seat and see what will happen.It is just here in front of me."
Edna took possession and in a few moments the inquisitive lady lookedup and saw her there. She at once hurried over, dropping the papers bythe way. "Here here," she cried, "what are you doing in my seat? Youmust get right up. All my things are here, and I don't want anyone tomeddle with them. Get right up."
Edna arose with alacrity while the pretty young lady leaned over andsaid: "I asked her to sit there while you occupied her friend's seat.I wanted to talk to her, too. It is a poor rule that doesn't work bothways, you know."
The inquisitive lady gave the speaker a withering look and sank to herplace with an air of great dignity while Edna returned to her place byDorothy. In a few minutes Mr. Ramsey returned and both children gave asigh of relief, though both kept wondering what would have happened ifhe had found someone in his place, and what more would have happenedif he had taken the place the lady now occupied. They soon forgot allthis, however, for Mr. Ramsey began to talk to them about the placeto which they were going and before they knew it they had reached NewYork. The pretty young lady gave them a nod and a smile as she passedout, but the inquisitive lady did not look their way at all though shestill retained the copy of Life they had lent her.
A taxi-cab whirled them up-town to the hotel where they were to lunch.Mr. Ramsey sent them upstairs to a pretty room, in charge of a neatmaid who tidied them up and then took them down to the dining-roomwhere Mr. Ramsey was already seated waiting for them. They felt verygrand to be in so fine a place lunching with a gentleman quite likegrown-up young ladies, and both wished their sisters could see them.
Lunch over, Mr. Ramsey took them to a large reception room where hestationed them at a window so they could look out on the street. "Ithink you will be entertained here," he said. "I am obliged to meeta business appointment, but I will be back as soon as I can. In themeantime amuse yourselves as you like, but don't leave the hotel. Hereis the key of your room. The elevator boy or one of the chambermaidswill show you where it is, if you would rather go there. I am gladthere are two of you, for you can't be lonesome with one another.Good-bye." He was off and the two little girls, feeling that they werevery small frogs in an immense puddle, sat by the window looking outon the street. Although it was not so warm as it had been earlier inthe week, still it was warm enough, and the passers-by looked hot andtired, and after a while the two little girls wearied at looking at theconstant stream of people.
"Let's go upstairs," suggested Dorothy.
"All right. Let's," returned Edna.
But just as they were standing timidly looking up and down the corridortrying to determine in which direction to go to find the elevator, aman wearing many brass buttons on his coat, came up to them. "Are youthe young ladies in Number 136?" he asked.
Dorothy looked at the key she was holding and on its wooden tag sheread the number 136. "Yes, that is the number," she told the man.
"Then here's something that's come for you," he said holding outtwo packages. "I knocked at your door, but you wasn't there, and thechambermaid said you might be in here."
The children thanked him and looked at the packages which were quitedistinctly marked with their names and the number of their room as wellas with the name of the hotel. They inquired their way to the elevatorand had soon closed the door of their room after them.
"I'd a great deal rather be in here to ourselves," said Edna, "so wecan do just what we like. You open one package, Dorothy, and I willopen the other. Do you suppose Mr. Ramsey sent them?"
"Of course, because no one else knows where we are. Isn't it funny,Edna, to think that even our mothers don't know where we are? Do hurryand open your package. Mine isn't tied, and I know what it is but Idon't want to tell till you have yours ready."
"This is such a heavy string," said Edna fumbling at the knot. "If Ihad a knife I would cut it, but I think I know what this is; it is abook, I am sure." After much to-do they managed to unfasten the packageto disclose a new book of fairy tales.
"How perfectly lovely!" cried Dorothy. And, "I have wanted to readthose ever since I took a peep at them one day when we were at HelenDarby's."
"Now we'll look at the other package," said Dorothy, slowly unfoldingthe paper which enclosed this.
The second package was found to contain two paper-dolls and twopuzzles. After the paper-dolls were duly admired they were laid aside."For," said Dorothy, "we haven't any scissors, so we can't cut outtheir frocks."
"I think it was perfectly lovely of Mr. Ramsey to think of getting suchnice things," said Edna warmly.
"I suppose he thought we might get lonely if he stayed so long away.What would you do, Edna, if something happened that he didn't ever comeback?"
Edna considered for awhile before she answered: "I'd send a telegram topapa to come and get us."
"It would be better to telephone," returned Dorothy. "We could use thelong-distance 'phone and tell them all about it."
"So we could. I didn't think of that. We could stay right here and notleave the hotel at all, because that woman said it wouldn't do for usto go alone in the streets of New York."
But such an emergency did not arise, though as the afternoon wore on,the little girls began to get somewhat anxious. They read several ofthe fairy tales; they worked over their puzzles; they watched from thewindows, and finally decided to put on their hats and pack up such oftheir belongings as they had taken from their satchels so they might beall ready. The new book and other gifts were stowed away, too, and thiswas hardly done before there came a quick knock at the door, and it wasopened to Mr. Ramsey himself.
"You're all ready?" he cried. "Good! Come right along as fast as youcan."
A boy had already snatched up their hand-bags and was hurrying offwith them. Mr. Ramsey rushed them along the hall and into the elevator,then they were hurried into a taxi-cab which stood waiting and off theywent.
As soon as they had started, Mr. Ramsey looked at his watch. "It's aclose shave, but I think we can make it," he said. Then he leaned overto speak to the driver. "Get us to the Fall River boat in time and youshall have an extra tip," he said.
So through the crowded streets, worming their way among lines of heavyteams, across car-tracks, and into queer-looking neighborhoods theywere taken, arriving just in time to be taken on board the boat beforeshe should move off.
It was all very exciting, but not unpleasant, for they felt quite safewith Mr. Ramsey. He smiled down at them as he led the way to the deck."We did make it, didn't we?" he said. "If you children had not been allready we should have been goners."
"Suppose we had been too late for the boat what would you have done?"asked Edna.
"We could have taken a night train, but it would not have been sopleasant this warm evening. Now you can sit here while I get the keysof our staterooms, then we will go on deck and see the harbor. Ourstaterooms open into one another, so you needn't be afraid, but youwill have to draw lots for the upper berth."
This last matter was easily adjusted for Dorothy begged to be allowedto climb up while Edna thought she would prefer to be below. After allthis was talked over and settled, they sat on deck till they had seenthe Statue of Liberty, had passed under the Brooklyn bridges, and hadgone beyond the boundaries of New York. Mr. Ramsey pointed out allthe things of interest and at last said they would better have supper.This over, they returned to the deck till sleep overcame them and theywere put in charge of the stewardess while Mr. Ramsey remained above tosmoke a final cigar.
Edna was awakened the next morning by Dorothy's leaning over to tickleher ear with a slip of paper. "Do you know where you are?" she asked.
Edna sat up rubbing her eyes. "I didn't at first," she answered, "but Ido now. Is it time to get up, Dorothy?"
"I don't know, but I should think so, for the boat isn't going. Ithink it has stopped for good, for there is a great noise of taking offthings, and I hear people talking outside."