CHAPTER XXIV A REAL HOLIDAY

It was amazing how everyone joined in preparing for those children.

“It’s so much better fun than just having an ordinary party,” Rosa remarked, as she and Nancy folded the paper napkins, “because in doing this we are doing something worth while, and just a party is—only a party,” she deduced in her own naive way.

“Yes,” added Nancy, “this is more than a party; it’s a picnic. And isn’t Margot lovely about it?”

“She’s going to have the best fun of any of us, for Margot loves children, especially strange children,” Rosa said, slyly.

“If only we could get Orilla to come,” Nancy continued, “but her mother was away all night and when she reached home this morning Orilla had gone out. I didn’t have a272 chance to tell you that, Rosa,” said her cousin. “You were so busy with the baker boy when I got back.”

“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t locate Orilla. It takes more than a little hunting to do that. She flits around like a squirrel,” replied Rosa. “But I’m not worrying about her. We have enough on our own hands now,” and she proceeded to count and classify the paper plates.

“But she promised to come and she did seem so dreadfully upset last night,” Nancy insisted upon saying. “I’m glad our party will be over early this afternoon. Directly after they leave we must go tell Orilla about the room. I can hardly wait, can you?”

“That was a great idea of yours, Nancy, and so simple. If we had waited to ask Betty and Dad as I thought of doing it would have been ages before we got our answer. But you asked Margot—”

“Margot is in charge here. There always has to be someone in charge of every place.”

“So simple when you think; but I don’t always think,” laughed Rosa. “Won’t Orilla273 be tickled? And why on earth shouldn’t she use that old room since it means so much to her?”

“If you’ll behave, Rosa,” Nancy ventured. “You are not like Orilla, you know; you have everything.”

“But sense, and you’ve got the family supply of that.”

“Now don’t go offending me,” warned Nancy. They had little time for this conversation and it was being pretty well mixed up with paper plates and napkins. “You know how unpopular a smart girl is, Rosa,” and Nancy dropped her big dark eyes with something like a suspicious blinking.

“Ye-ah, all right, you’re a dumb-bell, if you like that better, but I don’t know what I’m saying. I can’t think of a thing but children. What do you suppose they’ll do and say? Think they ever saw a mountain house before?”

“Why, Rosa? How absurd. They’re just like any other children, only not so well off. Maybe they’ll know more about mountain274 houses than we do,” said Nancy, indignantly.

“That’s so. Maybe they go on excursions every week,” contributed Rosa. They were ready now to wash up and go to meet the train.

“It isn’t likely they go often, because there’s such a lot of them to pass the trips around to,” Nancy reasoned out.

“Gosh!” ejaculated Rosa. “How you can think!”

“But please don’t call me smart, remember how I hate that,” again came the warning.

“Don’t blame you. Smart girls are a pest and, as you say, unpopular,” replied Rosa. “That’s one blessing in my favor. But don’t let’s fight about it,” concluded Rosa. “Hurry along. We’ve got to get three cars, you know.”

The two girls were wearing their simplest frocks, out of consideration for the coming visitors, but Nancy in her candy-stripe with the red bindings and red belt, and Rosa in her blue chambray, to match her eyes, looked pretty enough and well dressed enough for any picnic.

275 The bustle and excitement into which Fernlode had been thrown by the girls’ sudden resolve, to take over what should have been Orilla’s party, was little short of that which goes to make up “a swell affair,” as Thomas the butler expressed it, when he insisted upon using the tea carts on the lawn. He knew, he pointed out, how the Fernells did things, and that was the way they were going to be done this time.

Margot claimed that she also knew something of the Fernlode prestige, so she insisted upon a number of things, among them being favors for each guest. These were substantial, as she said, being a half dozen handkerchiefs in a pretty pictured box for each of the twelve children to be entertained.

“And if there’s more girls than boys I suppose you and I, Nancy, will have to chip in our best hankies to make up the right kind,” cryptically stated Rosa. To which suggestion Nancy merely groaned.

Altogether “the help” as well as the hostesses were enjoying the preparations, and now276 the girls were racing off to meet the train.

There came, first, the Fernell big open touring car, which Chet the chauffeur drove, then the town car with the three seats which Gar drove, and Dell Durand drove their own touring car, so that provided plenty of room, surely. Two cars would have been ample, but Rosa was afraid “an extra batch” might come, and it would have been dreadful not to have had room enough.

It was really queer to be expecting strangers and not even to know what they would look like, but when the train pulled in, and the conductor began handing children down from the cars, both Rosa and Nancy were too excited to care what they looked like.

Both girls, with Dell, pushed their way to the platform and claimed as many of the youngsters as could be lined up before them.

“I’m Miss Geary,” announced the pleasant, stately, middle-aged woman who was in charge of the outing, “and I suppose,” she said to Dell, “you are Miss Rigney.”

“Miss Rigney is ill,” Dell quickly replied,277 “but this is Rosalind Fernell and this is Nancy Brandon, both of Fernlode. I’m their neighbor and chaperon,” Dell continued in her easy social way. “We’ll all do what we can to give you a happy time,” she promised brightly.

There was no need for further formalities, and if there had been the girls would have just as completely overlooked the need, for Nancy was trailing off with a quartette of the children, two girls and two boys, while Rosa piloted three girls and one boy. Dell was made custodian of a pair of the “darlingest twinnies,” two little girls in blue, and there were also with the party three older girls who assisted Miss Geary.

To attempt to describe a children’s picnic would be as futile an undertaking as trying to describe childhood itself, for every moment and each hour something so new and novel developed, in the way of fun and good times, that even a picture of a period in the merry-making failed to record its actual happy spirit.

“And imagine!” babbled Rosa, while she spilled a whole dish of ice cream by allowing it278 to slip smoothly off the paper plate, “just imagine a photographer making a picture to be published! Did you notice, Nancy,” and she placed a neat pile of dry leaves over the crest-fallen ice cream, “how I looked? Did I look—thin?”

“You looked so happy surrounded by your flock,” Nancy assured her, “that weight couldn’t count. There, call that curly-head. She hasn’t had a balloon of her own yet and she’s exploded a half dozen of them. Give her one, Rosa, and tell her—that’s all!”

They were picnicking and frolicking around stately old Fernlode, and the sight was such a pleasant one that numbers of cars were drawn up, while their occupants witnessed the festivities.

“All our neighbors!” exclaimed Nancy. “There’s the Pickerings. Let Thomas bring them cream—”

“And they’ll tell Betty! There’s the Gormans! Oh, Nancy, why don’t we have a big folks party, too?” proposed the over-joyed Rosa.

279 “No, we couldn’t. That would spoil this,” Nancy pointed out, having a mind to correct standards. “We must do all we can to have this go off well, and that—”

“Will be plenty,” agreed Rosa, steering her tea cart of “empties” (the glasses, cups and real dishes) along the driveway toward the house.

Miss Geary and Dell found each other mutually attractive, their taste for work among children being alike, so that they not only took care of the little ones but had an exceptionally fine time doing so.

“Just look at Margot’s face. She hasn’t room for all the smiles,” Nancy took time to say to Rosa. She was on the lemonade staff and Thomas, the butler, had made the drink pink, “just to make the young ones think of a circus,” he explained. That may have accounted for the rush at Nancy’s booth, a kitchen table draped with the ends of the vines that formed a canopy above.

At the moment Margot was trying to carry a huge plate of chocolate cake in one hand,280 and with the other help little Michael, age five, to navigate toward Nancy’s lemonade stand. He had a lollypop in each of his hands, so the leadership was rather difficult to carry out.

How they romped, shouted, sang, cheered and even choked! For the bounty provided this day’s outing was plentiful to the point of extravagance.

“Why can’t we take them on the lake?” pleaded Rosa again, that offer having been politely refused by Miss Geary a short time before.

“Too risky!” replied Nancy. “But look down at the landing! There are the twinnies all alone!”

“And they’re too near the edge,” joined in Rosa. “I thought those big girls were watching them. Let’s run! They’ll topple over—”

But Nancy and Rosa were on their way. The twinnies were in danger and the lake was deep at that point. Innocently the little tots, hand in hand, gazed upon the dazzling water. They seemed fascinated, watching something.

281 “A flish! A flish!” shrilled little Molly, the fairest of the fair twins.

Then her sister Mattie leaned over—

“Oh!” screamed Nancy. “She’s in!”

“It’s deep,” Rosa warned, seeing Nancy toss off her sweater. But the next moment Nancy jumped into the water and before anyone knew that little Mattie had fallen in, she was promptly fished out! Wet and somewhat scared, the child clung to her rescuer, who easily brought her to shore. It was no trouble at all for Nancy.

“Oh, there’s the photographer!” joyfully called out Rosa, and then—

Nancy had to have her picture taken, standing on the end of the landing, with her dripping little friend in her arms. The photographer would call it, he said, “a prompt rescue.”

This brought the entire picnic down to the water’s edge, and the usual accident had presently been successfully disposed of. There were other incidents, many of them, but they did not prevent the day from drawing to a282 close. Shadows hovered threateningly near when Margot and Thomas passed around the favors, those pretty handkerchiefs, and the ride back to the station was soon marked as the final treat.

Nancy had changed into a fresh outfit and little Mattie was made happy in the smallest dress that could be borrowed in the neighborhood, prettier than the one she wore before the wetting, which made up for everything to Mattie.

It had been wonderful, that day in all the summer for the Fernlode folks, but Rosa and Nancy had not forgotten Orilla.

“We can go directly from the train to her mother’s,” Nancy proposed, as they neared the station. “I have a feeling that something is really wrong with Orilla.”

“Because she was sick last night?” Rosa asked. They were presently piling the children in the cars and had little chance to talk.

“That and—you know she said she would be here to-day if she were able,” Nancy made opportunity to answer. “And I know she meant to keep her word.”