CHAPTER IV

  THE GILPINS HAVE A PARTY

  The young ladies of Oak Knowe went out for their afternoon exercisefor the half hour before supper. Those who had been long at the schoolwere allowed to roam about the spacious grounds without a teacher, butnewcomers, or those who wished to go further afield, were alwaysattended by one.

  Most of Winifred's motherless life had been passed at Oak Knowe, evenfew of her vacations elsewhere. Her father was a very wealthy man, oflarge affairs which carried him often from the Province, to England orcountries further away, so that his home was seldom opened. But tocompensate his daughter for this state of things he had arranged withthe authorities that her school life should be made as homelike aspossible. She had her own private room with a tiny parlor and privatebath adjoining. She was allowed to entertain her schoolmates there asshe would have done in her father's house; always, of course, withinthe limits set by the faculty.

  But Winifred cared little for all this unusual luxury. She rarelyasked for any money "banked" with the Lady Principal beyond thetwenty-five cents a week which any pupil might spend; and she likedthe common parlor far better than her own richly furnished one.Nothing hurt her feelings more than to have her mates refer to herwealth or to treat her differently from the poorest pupil.

  But there were times when she enjoyed her privileges to the utmost,and that first day of Dorothy's life at Oak Knowe was one such. Nothaving been "in disgrace" for a week at least she confidently askedpermission to entertain the newcomer in her rooms, "Just we two byourselves. She's lonely and I like her. Please, Miss Tross-Kingdon."

  "You'll be quiet, Winifred, and keep out of mischief?" asked the LadyPrincipal, with more gentleness than ordinary. It was natural that sheshould feel great interest in the girl she had almost reared and whoseown power for good or ill Winifred herself could not yet comprehend.

  "Ah, now, Miss Muriel, you know I will! Why, surely, I've been as goodfor a whole week as if I were a kindergarten Minim. You should trustme more. I read the other day that people are just what you think theyare. So, whatever you want me to be, please just think I _am_ andI'll be it!" and the audacious creature actually dabbed a kiss on theLady Principal's own cheek.

  "Wheedler! Well, I'll try to fancy you're a saint, but I'm not sofanciful about this Dorothy Calvert. She's a pretty little thing andmy Grace made friends with her at once and the Bishop says she is ofgood blood. That counts, of course, but she seems to me a littleheadstrong and very stupid. I don't yet understand how Miss Hexam cameto put her into so high a Form. However, I know that she is veryhomesick, as all new pupils are, so you may entertain her if you wish.A maid shall send you in a tray and you are excused from schoolsupper; but see to it, Winifred, that you use your influence aright.The more favored a person is in this world the more that individualshould watch her own actions."

  Winifred thanked the teacher and backed out of the room as if in thepresence of royalty itself. This action in itself was offensive to theteacher but was one she could hardly criticise; nor did she guessthat, once out of sight, the "wheedler" should first stamp her footand exclaim:

  "I'm sick to death of hearing about my 'influence' and being an'individual.' Makes me feel like a spider, that time the German countcame to visit Father and called his attention to 'that individualcrawling down the wall.' He meant 'one, a solitary thing.' But I'm no'solitary' just because Father has a little money. I often wish hehadn't a pound, especially when some of the 'Peers' try to make mebelieve he is at least a 'Sir'."

  Then hurrying to Dorothy she danced about in delight at her success.

  "Yes, she says you may come, and she's sure to send us in a finesupper. Miss Muriel Tross-Kingdon never does a thing by halves, noteven a lecture on 'individual influence.' Queen Baltimore, aren't youglad you're poor?"

  "Neither glad nor sorry, Winifred, because I'm neither rich nor poor.Anyway neither of us can help being just as we are, I reckon."

  "Come on, though, and hurry up. 'If it were done, when 'tis done, then'twere well it were done quickly,'" quoted Winifred, whose classreading just then was "Macbeth"; and seizing the smaller girl whirledmerrily down the hall.

  Five minutes later, with hats and jackets on, they joined the otherpupils out of doors. To Dorothy it seemed the beautiful grounds werealive with all sorts and conditions of girls, pacing rapidly up anddown, "sprinting" to warm themselves against the chill of the comingevening, playing tennis for the brief half-hour, or racing one anotherfrom point to point. There were girls so many and so various, fromSeventh Form young ladies to the wee little Minims, that Dollywondered if she would ever know them all or feel herself a member ofthe great company.

  But Winifred gave her little time to gaze about her.

  "Oh! don't bother with them now. Our way is that lower gate, and it'sa good bit of a distance, I hope you're a good walker."

  "Pretty good, I reckon," answered Dolly falling into step with thetaller girl and hurrying forward at even a swifter pace.

  "But, begging your pardon, that's no way. We Canadians learnpedestrianism--whew! what a long word!--just as we learn our letters.Begin very slowly at first. Then when your muscles are limbered, walkfaster--and faster--and faster! Till it seems as if your legs swing upand down of their own accord, just like machines. It's wonderful thenhow little you tire and how far you can go. Slack up a bit and I'llshow you."

  Absorbed in this new lesson Dorothy scarcely noticed when they leftOak Knowe limits and struck out along a country lane, with hedgerowsat either side; nor when having climbed a stile they set out across aplowed field, till her feet grew heavy with the soil they gathered.

  "Oh! dear! What mud! Why do you walk in it, Winifred?"

  "It's the shortest road. Here's a stone. Stop a bit and scrape itoff--as I do. See?" answered the other, calmly illustrating heradvice.

  "But I don't like it. My shoes will be ruined!" wailed Dolly who wasalways finical about "dirt."

  "Humph! Haven't you another pair? But they ought to be--suchflimsy-wimpsy affairs! Look at mine. A bit of mud more or less can'thurt them and it's the boot-boy's business to clean them."

  The English girl held forth a good sized foot clad in a still largershoe of calfskin, which though soiled with the clay had not absorbedmuch of its moisture: while the finer affairs of Dorothy's werealready wet through, making her uncomfortable.

  "I couldn't walk in such heavy boots. And it's raining again. Itrained last night. Does it rain every day in Canada? We ought to goback. Do let's, and try this some other time. I reckon this willfinish my new suit, entirely."

  Winifred put her arms akimbo and stared at her new friend. Then burstinto a hearty laugh over Dorothy's disgusted face.

  "Ha, ha, ha! And 'I reckon,' little southerner, that you'll be a moresensible girl after you've lived up here a while. The idea of turningback because it rains! absurd! Why, it's fine, just fine! The LadyPrincipal will overhaul your fair-weather-clothes and see that you getsome fit to stand anything. This homespun suit of mine couldn't getwet through if it tried! But I shan't stand here, in the middle of aplowed field, and let it try. Come on. Its the States against theProvince! Who'll win?"

  "I will! For old Maryland and the President!" cried Dorothy, andvaliantly strode forward again.

  "For our Province and the King!" shouted the Canadian; and after thatneither spoke, till the long walk ended before the cottage door of oldJohn Gilpin and his dame. There Winifred gave a smart tap to the paneland holding her hand toward Dorothy, cried:

  "Quits, Queen Baltimore! We'll call it even and I'll never doubt yourpluck again. But you certainly must get some decent clothes--if I haveto buy them myself!"

  Then the door opened and there stood old John, peering from thelamp-lighted room into the twilight without. After a second herecognized Dorothy and drew her in, exclaiming joyfully:

  "Why, Dame, 'tis our little lass herself! Her of the night last spentand the helping hand! Step ben, step ben, and 'tother miss with ye.You're surely welcome as
the flowers in spring."

  Mrs. Gilpin came ponderously forward, a smile on her big but comelyface, and silently greeted both visitors, while her more nimblehusband promptly "step-an'-fetched" the best chairs in the room andplaced them before the fire.

  "Dry yourselves, lassies, whilst I tell the Robin you've come to seehim. He'll be that proud, poor laddie, to have Oak Knowe young ladiespay him that honor! and he's mending fine, mending fine, doctor says.The mother--"

  He disappeared within that inner chamber still talking and as happynow as he had seemed sorrowful when Dorothy parted from him on thenight before. Then he had anticipated nothing less than death for theboy he loved, despite the doctor's assurance to the contrary. He cameback leading a woman by the hand, as protectingly as if she had been achild, and introduced her as:

  "The bit mother hersel'! Look at her well. Isn't she the very sightand image of Robin, the lad? And mind how she's pickin' up already.Just one day of good victuals and Dame's cossetting and the pink'sstreamin' back to her cheeks. Please the good Lord they'll never getthat thin again whilst I have my ox-team to haul with and the Dame'sgood land to till. I'll just step-an'-fetch the rocker out--"

  At that point in his remarks the Dame laid a hand on his shoulder,saying:

  "That'll do, John Gilpin. Just brew a cup of tea. I'll tell the lad."

  Winifred was amused at this wifely reprimand, but no offense seemedmeant nor taken. The farmer stopped talking and deftly made the teafrom the boiling kettle, added a couple of plates to the waitingsupper table, and drew from the oven a mighty dish of baked beans thatmight have been cooked in Yankee-land, and flanked this by a Yorkshirepudding.

  "Oh! how nice that smells!" cried Dorothy, springing up to add theknives and forks from the dresser; while Winifred clapped her hands ina pretended ecstasy and sniffed the savory odors, admitting: "I'm ashungry as hungry! And this beats any supper I asked for at Oak Knowe.I hope they'll want us to stay!"

  Her frankness made timid little Mrs. Locke smile as she had not beenable to do since she had known of Robin's accident, and smiling wasgood for her. Indeed, the whole atmosphere of this simple, comfortablehome was good for her, and the high spirits of these three youngpeople delightful to her care-burdened heart.

  For, presently, it was the three--not least of these her idol, herRobin! Dorothy had followed the Dame into the boy's room and Winifredhad promptly followed her; and because he was the sunny-hearted ladwhich the farmer had claimed him to be, he put all thought of his ownpain or trouble out of mind, and laughed with the two girls at theirawkward attempts at feeding him from the tray on the stand beside thebed. Having to lie flat upon his back he could still use one arm andcould have fed himself fairly well. But this his visitors would notallow; and he was obliged to submit when Winifred, playfullystruggling with Dolly for "My time now!" thrust a spoon into his earinstead of his mouth.

  The truth was that under the girl's assumed indifference to the factthat she was breaking rules by "visiting without permission" lay afeeling of guilt. "Double guilt" she knew, because she had imposedupon Dorothy's ignorance by stating that during "exercise hour" anylong resident pupil was free to go where she chose. This was true, butonly in a measure. What was not true was that so distant a point asJohn Gilpin's cottage should be chosen, much less entered withoutpermission.

  But curiosity had been too strong for her and she had resented, onDorothy's account, the refusal of Dr. Winston's invitation in themorning. Besides, she argued with her own conscience:

  "We're excused from school supper and free to entertain each other inmy room till chapel. What difference does it make, and who will know?To-morrow, I'll go and 'fess to Miss Muriel and if she is displeasedI'll take my punishment, whatever it is, without a word. Anyhow, Dollycan't be punished for what she doesn't know is wrong."

  So, feeling that she "was in for it, anyway" Winifred's mood grewreckless and she "let herself go" to a positive hilarity.

  Dorothy watched and listened in surprise but soon caught herschoolmate's spirit, and jested and laughed as merrily as she. EvenRobin tried to match their funny remarks with odd stories of his ownand after a little time, when he had eaten as much as they could makehim, began to sing a long rigmarole, of innumerable verses, that beganwith the same words and ended midway each verse, only to resume. Itwas all something about the king and the queen and the "hull r'yalfamblely" which Dorothy promptly capped with an improved version ofYankee Doodle.

  Whereupon, the absurd jumble and discord of the two contrasting tunesproved too much for old John's gravity. Springing up from his chair inthe outer room he seized his fiddle from its shelf and scraped away ona tune of his own. For his fiddle was his great delight and his oneresort at times when his wife silenced his voluble tongue.

  The old fiddle was sadly out of tune and Dorothy couldn't endure that.Running to him she begged him:

  "Oh! do stop that, please, please! Here, let me take and get it intoshape. You make me cringe, you squawk so!"

  "You fix it? you, lassie! Well, if that don't beat the Dutch! Whatelse do they l'arn children over in the States? Leave 'em to gosky-larkin' round the country in railway carriages all by themsel's,and how to help doctors set broken bones, and how to fiddle atune--Stars an' Garters! What next? Here, child, take her and make herhum!"

  Presently, the preliminary squeaks and discords, incident to "tuningup," were over and Dorothy began a simple melody that made all herhearers quietly listen. One after another the familiar things whichAunt Betty and her guardian loved best came into her mind; andremembering the beloved scenes where she had last played them, herfeeling of homesickness and longing made her render them so movinglythat soon the little widow was crying and Robin's sensitive faceshowed signs of his own tears following hers.

  The tempting supper had remained untouched thus far. But now thesight of his guests' emotion, and a warning huskiness in his ownthroat, brought John Gilpin to his feet.

  "This isn't no mournin' party, little miss, and you quit, you quitthat right square off. Understand? Something lively's more to thisoccasion than all that solemcholy 'Old Lang Synin', 'or 'Wearin' Awa''business. Touch us off a 'Highland Fling,' and if that t'other girl,was gigglin' so a few minutes gone, 'll do me the honor"--here the oldfellow bowed low to Winifred--"I'll show you how the figger should bedanced. I can cut a pigeon-wing yet, with the supplest."

  Away rolled the table into the further corner of the room: even theDame merely moving her own chair aside. For she had watched thewidow's face and grieved to see it growing sad again, where a littlewhile before it had been cheerful.

  Dorothy understood, and swiftly changed from the "Land O' the Leal" tothe gay dance melody demanded. Then laughter came back, for it was sofunny to see the farmer's exaggerated flourish as he bowed again toWinifred and gallantly led her to the middle of the kitchen floor, nowcleared for action.

  Then followed the merriest jig that ever was danced in that oldcottage, or many another. The cuts and the capers, the flings andpigeon-wings that bald-headed John Gilpin displayed were little shortof marvelous. Forgotten was the dragging foot that now soared as highas the other, while perspiration streamed from his wrinkled face,flushed to an apoplectic crimson by this violent exercise.

  Winifred was no whit behind. Away flung her jacket and then her hat.Off flew the farmer's smock, always worn for a coat and to protect thehomespun suit beneath. The pace grew mad and madder, following themovement of the old fiddle which Dorothy played to its swiftest.Robin's blue eyes grew big with wonder and he whistled his liveliest,to keep up with the wild antics he could see in the outer room.

  Nobody heard a knock upon the door, repeated until patience ceased,and then it softly opened. A full moment the visitor waited there,gazing upon this orgy of motion; then with an ultra flourish of herskirts Winifred faced about and beheld--the Lady Principal!