DOROTHY AT OAK KNOWE
by
EVELYN RAYMOND
New YorkHurst & Co., Inc.Publishers
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THE DOROTHY BOOKS
By EVELYN RAYMOND
These stories of an American girl by an American author have made"Dorothy" a household synonym for all that is fascinating. Truth andrealism are stamped on every page. The interest never flags, and isofttimes intense. No more happy choice can be made for gift books, sosure are they to win approval and please not only the young in years,but also "grown-ups" who are young in heart and spirit.
Dorothy Dorothy at Skyrie Dorothy's Schooling Dorothy's Travels Dorothy's House Party Dorothy in California Dorothy on a Ranch Dorothy's House Boat Dorothy at Oak Knowe Dorothy's Triumph Dorothy's Tour
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY THE PLATT & PECK CO.
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"EVER RIDE IN AN OX-CART"? _Dorothy at Oak Knowe._]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE 9
II. UNFORTUNATE BEGINNINGS 24
III. PEERS AND COMMONS 39
IV. THE GILPINS HAVE A PARTY 55
V. THE FRIGHT OF MILLIKINS-PILLIKINS 69
VI. AT THE FALL OF THE MAIDEN'S BATH 85
VII. ALL HALLOW EVE FESTIVITIES 102
VIII. PEER AND COMMONER 117
IX. THE NIGHT THAT FOLLOWED 133
X. OPEN CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL 148
XI. WHAT CAME WITH THE SNOW AND ICE 164
XII. JOHN GILPIN JOINS THE SPORT 182
XIII. A BAD DAY FOR JOHN GILPIN 193
XIV. EXPLANATIONS ARE IN ORDER 206
XV. MRS. JARLEY ENTERTAINS 221
XVI. A PERPLEXING PROBLEM OF LIFE 232
XVII. COMMENCEMENT; AND CONCLUSION 249
DOROTHY AT OAK KNOWE
CHAPTER I
ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE
"This way for the Queen!"
"Here you are for the Duke of Connaught! Right this way!"
"Want the Metropole, Miss?"
"Room there, stupid! She's from the States--any fool could see that!I'm from your hotel, little lady, the American. Your luggage, Miss,allow me?"
If Dorothy's hands hadn't been too full, she would have clapped themover her ears, to drown the cries of the hackmen who swarmed about heras she stepped from the train at the railway station in Toronto. As itwas, she clung desperately to her bag and shawlstrap, which the manfrom the American hotel seemed bound to seize, whether or no.
But her heart sank and it was a forlorn little girl, indeed, wholooked anxiously around seeking some face on which might be a smile ofwelcome. But nobody paid any attention to her, except the obstreperoushackmen, and in a sudden fright she let fall the tears she had sobravely kept back until then. It had been a long and lonely journey,but she had been assured that she would be promptly met and cared forwhen it ended. Now, amid all the throng of travelers and those whoawaited them, not one was looking for a "dark haired girl in navyblue" and the tears fell faster as she cried aloud:
"Oh! what shall I do! What shall I do!"
Even the hackmen had forsaken her in pursuit of other, more promisingpatrons. The short autumn day was at its close and in the growingdarkness her fright increased and her usual common sense left her.But, as she spoke, a hand was laid upon her shoulder and a rathergruff voice demanded:
"Why, little stranger, what's a-troublin' ye?"
Dorothy winked her tears away and looked up into the face of an oldman, whose gray beard swept his breast while his head was entirelybald. He wore a long blue smock, carried an ox-goad in one hand and acanvas bag in the other. He looked as kind as he was homely andDorothy answered quickly:
"I'm lost, I guess. Or forgotten, and that's just as bad! I--I--"
"Lost? Right here in this town? Well, that couldn't hardly be. ThoughI own it's a biggish place. But if you be, I'll see to it that you getfound again, immediate. First start--who be ye?"
"I'm Dorothy Calvert, from Baltimore. I came to the Oak Knowe Schoolfor Girls. Somebody was to meet me. Nobody has and--and--I don't knowwhat to do."
John Gilpin whistled and exclaimed:
"No! Never! I saw at a glance you was no Cannuck! The little maidswe raise in our Province have redder cheeks 'an yours. An' we don'tlet 'em go traversin' round the universe without their mothers orleastways nurses to look after 'em. But bless my soul, you've fellinto safe hands. I know old Oak Knowe well. No better school in thewhole Empire nor that. Moresomever, there's been some miscarry betwixtyour folks and the Lady Principal or she'd never let you come to thispass. But my road lies same as yours. I'll just step-an'-fetch my oxenand head 'em straight for home. We'll get to the School in next to notime. Leastways, betwixt now and bedding-bell--they ring it abouthalf-past nine."
"Is it so far? Why, it must be hours till then!"
At the cheerful sound of this old teamster's voice Dorothy forgot herfear. She didn't stop to reflect that she should have waited quietlyin the station till somebody called for her, nor that she might havetelephoned to her teachers to announce her arrival. All she realizedwas that here was a friend in need and that he was a quaintlyinteresting person.
"'Tis a matter of some miles, lassie, and my old oxen are no electrictram. Slow and sure's their motto and what's an hour, more or less, ina little girl's lifetime? You got a box?"
Dorothy glanced at the rug and magazine, tightly strapped together,and at the handbag she had set down upon the platform and replied:
"No, Mr.--I don't know your name yet--I haven't now. I had one, but Iate the lunch out of it and tossed it from the car window."
The old man stared as if she had spoken nonsense, but informed her:
"Gilpin's my name. John Gilpin; but my dame says I'm no descendant ofhim that took that famous ride as is in the story books. I'm too slow,Dame says. But is all your clothes in that satchel?"
It was Dorothy's turn to stare and to laugh.
"Oh! no, indeed! They're in my trunk. Here is my check. Number 70777.I put that down in my little notebook, though it's easy to remember."
"Humph! I've heard that in the States they call a box a 'trunk,'same's if it was an elephant. Well, give me the check. I'll juststep-an'-fetch it and we'll be jogging."
Mr. Gilpin took the check and lumbered away, dragging one leg stifflyas if he could not bend the knee, while Dorothy's spirits rose as shewatched him. After all, this was a real adventure; and when it wasover and she was safe at her fine school, she could write all about itto the friends at home. Thinking about them, she forgot how long JohnGilpin tarried and roused from her reverie with a start when hishearty voice, guiding his oxen, came around the corner of the station.
"Here we be, lassie! Ever ride in an ox-cart? Ever see a neater yokeo' cattle? That's an unco big box for a small maid to own and hefty,to boot. Step right in, for it's gathering clouds, I see, and we can'thave that tidy dress of yours get spoiled while it's new."
It was easy to "step in" to the low-hung vehicle and Dorothy nestledagainst her new friend on his spring-seat forward; all the back partof the wagon being filled with empty barrels and her own trunk.
It had been some sort of holiday in the city an
d the streets were gaywith flags and bunting, causing Dorothy to exclaim:
"Why, it's just like Halifax, that time Earl Grey was coming! It'sjust as English as that was--even more so, for I don't see Old Gloryanywhere, and there I did."
Old John turned his bare, bald head toward her and demanded:
"What do you know about Halifax? Or the Governor General? I thoughtyou was United States."
"So I am, so I am! But people may travel once in a while, mayn't they?I can tell you lots about Halifax, even though I was there but alittle while. That was on a vacation journey and it was delight-ful!"
Then, finding the farmer so interested, Dorothy eagerly recited thestory of her "Travels" and their happy ending at her rightful home atDeerhurst and in the love of her Great-Aunt Betty.
"Sounds like a story book, now don't it! And to think after allthat the old lady should be willin' to despatch you up here to ourProvince, just to get a mite of education. Should ha' thought there'dbe institooshuns of learning nigher hand 'an Oak Knowe, where shecould ha' clapped eyes on ye, now and again. She--"
"Oh! don't misjudge my darling aunt! She hated to have me come asbadly as I hated to leave her; but, though I've never been really ill,she fancied that this climate would make me very, very strong.Besides, the minister who founded Oak Knowe--he was a bishop, Ibelieve--was one of her girlhood friends, and so she chose it forthat, too. Anyway, to her who has traveled so much, Canada andMaryland seem but a little way apart."
"That's right, lassie. That's right. Be loyal to your friends, whetherthey be right or wrong. An' talk about travel, there beant manycorners of this earth that I haven't took a glance at. I've not alwaysbeen a farmer, though you mightn't think it now."
They had passed out of the city streets into the open country, theoxen swaying and pacing sedately along, as if it mattered nothing howlate they might reach home. To pass the time, Dorothy asked the oldman to talk about his own travels, and he promptly answered:
"In course, and obleeged for anybody to care to listen. Dame has heardmy yarns so often, she scoffs 'em; but I've seen a power o' things inmy day, a power o' things. I was born in Lunnon, raised in Glasgo',run away to Liverpool and shipped afore the mast. From sailor I turnedsoldier under Chinese Gordon--Ah! the man he wus! Miner, constable, meLord's butler, then his cook, and now, at the fag end of my days,settled down to be my Dame's right-hand-man. She was a likely widow,coming from England to take up land here, and I met her aboard ship,last time I crossed seas. Didn't take us long to strike a bargain. Sheneeded a man to till her farm; I needed a good woman to mend me and dofor me, for I was that tired of rovin'--my hearties! We get alongwell. We get along prime. I do the talking and her does the thinking.She's that uncommon thing--a silent woman. Like to hear how I comenigh-hand to death along of a devil fish? Want to feel your hairrise on end and your arms get reg'lar goose-fleshy? Makes me nighget that way myself, every time I recall--Whist! If that ain'tthunder I'm a-dreamin', sure! Thunder this season of the year! Nowthat's fair ridic'lous. But mentionin' devil fish, yon comes onethem red go-devils, Dame calls 'em, as squawkin', blazing-eyedautomobeelyers--comin' this minute. No marvel natur' gets topsy-turvywith them wild things ramsaging round. But, quick, lassie! Do youryoung eyes see something or somebody lying beyond in the middle of theroad?"
The old man checked his garrulous tongue to rise and peer into thedarkness, while Dorothy sprang to her feet beside him, straining herown eyes to follow his pointing finger.
"There is, there is! Looks like a man or boy or bicycle or somethingand that horrid car is coming right toward it! Make 'em stop! Holloa!Loud, loud, for they don't see him! they'll run over him--he'll bekilled!"
But still the gay occupants of the car observed nothing; till atlast a fiercer shriek from Dorothy sounded above their laughter andinstantly hushed it, while the driver of the machine looked curiouslyat the cart which the wise oxen, perceiving their own danger, haddrawn out of harm on the roadside. But the stop had been too late.Though the motor was swerved aside, it had already collided with theobjects in its path, and it was in a terrified silence that themerrymakers descended from it.
But even old John had been quicker than they and was now bending abovethe lad crushed beneath the forward wheels of this hated "go-devil."
"Oh! my poor lad! Oh! my sunny Robin!" he groaned: then in a fury ofanger at the great machine, tried his strength to lift it from itsvictim.
Fortunately there were several men in the party, and the car wellequipped against mischance, and so it was swiftly forced away, whilethe farmer again stooped over the motionless lad beneath and tenderlyraised him in his arms. For a moment the group gathered about the pairbelieved that the boy was dead; then a low moan from his white lipsmingled with the lamentations of John Gilpin and brought relief toeveryone.
Again came flashes of lightning and the growls of thunder, and theowner of the car exclaimed:
"Lay the boy in the motor and we'll get him to a hospital at once.Maybe he isn't so badly hurt as seems. Pile up the cushions, somebody,and give him to me, old man. I'm stronger than you and better used tosick folks. Doctor Winston is my name."
"The more shame to you then for what you've done this night!" hotlyretorted old John, clasping his burden the closer and moving slowlytoward his own humble cart.
"Idiot! Don't put him in that shaky wagon. Delay may cost his life.Hospital's the place and the car is swiftest!" cried another of thegentlemen, indignantly. "Of course we'll see to it that he has thebest of care with no expense spared."
As if he had not heard, old John still moved away, quietly orderingDorothy:
"Undo that shawl of yours. Roll them barrels out of the wagon. Takeoff your jacket and make a piller of it. Spread the shawl out andcover him with part of it whilst I lay him down. Poor little Robin!The 'only son of his mother and she was a widow.'"
Dorothy was glad to obey this strange old man who had been so genialand was now so stern, and it relieved her distress to be doingsomething to help. But as she tried to roll the barrels out, a handfell on her arm and the doctor said:
"I'll do that, Miss. They're too heavy for you. I wish you'd persuadeyour grandfather to trust me with this poor boy. It would be so muchbetter."
"He isn't my grandfather. I don't know him--I mean he was taking me--"
But her words fell upon deaf ears, apparently. Having sent the emptybarrels flying where they would, the doctor had now taken the pile ofcushions somebody had brought him and arranged them on the wagonbottom. Next he calmly relieved John Gilpin of the injured boy andlaid him gently down. Shaking out Dorothy's thick steamer rug, her"shawl," he carefully covered Robin and, sitting down beside him,ordered:
"Drive on, farmer! Chauffeur, follow with the car. Lady Jane, themedicine case. To the nearest house at once."
There was no resisting the firm authority of the physician and JohnGilpin climbed meekly to his seat and at his urgent "gee-ho" the oxenstarted onward at a steady gait. But despite his anxiety there was asatisfaction in their owner's mind that the "nearest house" would behis own and that it would be his capable "Dame" who would care forRobin and not a hospital nurse.
Meanwhile Dorothy seemed forgotten both by the people who had returnedto their car and Mr. Gilpin; so, fearing that she would be left aloneby the roadside, she sprang upon the end of the cart and sat there,her feet dangling over its edge.
Now, indeed, her adventure was proving anything but amusing. Whatwould Aunt Betty think of her heedless action? Or her dear guardian,Seth Winters, the "learned Blacksmith," wisest of men, whom the readerof this series will recall in "Dorothy's Schooling." Would she everreach Oak Knowe, and how would this escapade be regarded there?
Into her troubled thoughts now broke a sound of pain, that droveeverything save pity from her mind. The rain was now falling fast anddrenching her new clothes, but her anxiety was only that the injuredboy should not get wet and she was glad that her rug was so thick andwarm. It had been a parting gift from her "House-Boat" guests and helda
lmost sacred as a memento of their happy trip together.
But now the oxen were turning into a lane. She could dimly see thehedgerows on either side, that now and then the lightning flashesshowed more plainly; and, after a time, something big and whiteseemed to block their way. A moment more and the white obstructionproved to be a cottage with a lamp shining through its window. Thena door opened and a woman's voice called cheerily:
"Welcome home, my man! You're late the night. Met you up with anytrouble? Didn't the apples sell well?"
"More trouble than you dream, Dame, and I've fetched it for you toshare. Light the bedroom to once. 'Tis the dead--or dyin'--is here."
Without a word the woman turned away, moving heavily because of hergreat size, and an inner door opened, showing a comfortable bed, itscovers already invitingly spread back. Lighting more candles the damestood quietly aside, waiting her unexpected guest.
The doctor brought the boy in, still wrapped in the rug and, tossingthat to the floor, gently laid him down. John followed close behind,announcing:
"'Tis Robin, Dame, our bonny Robin of the Glen. The heart of themother will break. He--"
"Help here. Hot water, please. More light. An old sheet for bandages.Don't dally. Undress him, Lady Jane."
"But, doctor, I'm afraid!" objected that lady who, partly fromcuriosity, partly to avoid the rain, had followed the physician intothe house.
Indeed, all the motoring party had now swarmed into the kitchen,intending to be quiet yet really chattering noisily, and some of themsniffing covetously the odors from a great pot of soup, steaming awayon the stove. But nobody was quite ready to respond to the doctor'sappeals for help, even Mrs. Gilpin being confused and stupid beforethese strangers who had taken possession of her home.
As for old John, he could simply stand and stare at the unconsciouslad on the bed, too dazed and grieved to be of any use whatever.
Not so Dorothy, who had entered with the rest and who noticed Dr.Winston's impatience--who knew that a hospital was where his patientshould be and not this ill-equipped cottage. Throwing off her drippingjacket, she cried:
"I'll help."
A teakettle was singing beside the soup-pot on the stove and a dishpanwas hanging near. To empty the kettle into the pan and to carry it tothe chair beside the bed was an instant's task. Then, seizing theupper sheet and using her teeth for scissors, she swiftly tore it intostrips; and by this time the dame had regained her own presence ofmind.
Without troubling to ask who Dorothy was or how she came to be there,she now took charge of things, saying:
"You'll find clean towels in that chest of drawers. Fetch the doctor apile. Shears are yon in that work-basket. You're spry on your feet asI can't be, but I do know how to take the clothes off this poor Robin.My, what's this he clenches so tight in hand? One of them telegraphletters 'tis his errand to deliver. All over the countryside theladdie rode on his wheel to earn the bit money would pay his mother'srent. Brave, bonny lad that he was!"
Gently releasing the telegram from his fingers, Mrs. Gilpin held it upfor the doctor to see.
"For Oak Knowe. Open it, little girl, and read if it's important."
She obeyed, but her voice trembled as she read. It was the belatedmessage that announced her own coming and the hour of her arrival. Itexplained why she had not been met at the station, but she felt bothshocked and guilty as she exclaimed:
"Oh! it is my fault! It's all my fault that he is killed! Just aboutme it happened! What shall I do--what shall I do?"
"Stop that sort of talk and see how your dead boy stares at you! Lookwell, Robin, you see a real live Yankee girl!"