by Carol Norton
CHAPTER V. A MISCHIEVOUS PLAN
"Well, to begin at the beginning, Jack was pleased as punch to see AlfredMorrison, and for the first fifteen minutes they talked of nothing butcollege prep, athletics, fraternities and the like. Then Mother called meand I left them alone in the library. When I returned, half an hourlater, Alfred was gone, but this is the tale Brother told me. It seemsour new friend has a sister about our age, Geraldine by name."
"Oho," Bertha put in, "then _that_ is who the newcomer to our town is tobe."
Peg laughed. "We'll have to put you on the sleuth committee, Bursie, butdo hurry and tell us the worst."
"Perhaps it's the best," Gertrude suggested, but Merry shook her head."Worst is more like it. But here goes: Mr. Morrison, their father, livedin this village when he was a boy. He was mischievous and wilful and hehad trouble with his father, who was stern and unrelenting. When he wassixteen he ran away to sea and was gone three years on a voyage aroundthe world. When he returned he went West, where he married and made agood deal of money in railroads and mines. During this time he had oftenwritten to his Mother begging to be forgiven, but his letters were alwaysreturned to him and so he supposed that his parents no longer cared forhim. At last, however, when his wife died, leaving him with two smallchildren, he came back to Dorchester only to find that his father andmother were gone and the old home falling into rack and ruin.
"Sad at heart, he settled in the city where Alfred and his sister werebrought up by tutors and governesses."
"Oh, the poor things!" Doris Drexel said pityingly. "My heart aches forany boy or girl brought up without knowing the tenderness of a mother'slove."
"That brings the story up to the present," Merry continued. "Last weekMr. Morrison left very suddenly for Europe in the interests of hisbusiness and he may be gone all winter. He did not want to leave his sonand daughter alone in the city house with the servants, and so he sentAlfred down here to see Colonel Wainright, who was his pal when he was aboy, to ask him if they might remain with him for a few months. TheColonel was delighted, Alfred told Jack, and so they are both coming toour village to spend the winter."
"But, Merry, _why_ do you think that is _not_ good news? I think it willbe jolly fun to have another girl friend. There's always room for onemore."
Gertrude said this in her kindly way, but Peg protested: "There certainlyisn't room for one more in the Seven Sleuths' Club."
"Indeed not!" Merry seconded. "But don't worry, the haughty MissGeraldine won't _want_ to associate with simpering country milkmaids."
"_With what?_" Every girl in the room dropped her sewing on her lap andstared her amazement.
Merry laughed as she replied: "_Just that_, no less. I knew how indignantyou'd all be. I would, too, if it weren't so powerfully funny. I'd pitythe cow I'd try to milk."
"What reason have you for thinking this girl, Geraldine, will be such asnob?" Gertrude asked as she resumed her sewing.
"Reason enough!" Merry told them. "Alfred said that his sister was veryangry when she heard that her father was going to send her to such a'back-woodsy' place, meaning our village, and she declared that shesimply would not go. She, Geraldine Morrison, who was used to having fourservants wait upon her, to live in an old country house where she wouldprobably have to demean herself by making her own bed? No, never! Sheraged and stormed, Alfred said, and declared that she would go to visitsome cousins in New York, but to that her father would not listen. Hetold her that he wanted his little girl, who is none too robust, to spenda winter breathing the country air in the village where he was a boy. Ofcourse, since Geraldine is only sixteen, she had to give in, and so nextweek she is to arrive, bag and baggage. She told Alfred that he needn'tthink for one moment that she was going to hobnob with silly, simperingcountry milkmaids! Alfred said that he hated to tell Jack all this, buthe liked us so much he wanted us to be prepared, so that we would not behurt by his sister's rudeness."
There were twinkles appearing in the eyes of the mischievous Peggy. "Oh,girls," she said gaily, "I've thought up the best joke to play on thishaughty young lady who calls us simpering milkmaids. Let's pretend thatis _what we really are_, and let's call on her and act the part. We'reall crazy about private theatricals. Here's our chance."
"Say, but that's a keen idea!" Merry agreed chucklingly.
Then they chattered merrily as they laid their plans. They would give thenew girl a few days to become used to the village, then, en masse, theywould go up to Colonel Wainright's and call upon her.
There was so much laughter and such squeels of delight in the next halfhour that Mrs. Angel, appearing in the doorway with a platter heaped withdoughnuts, was moved to inquire: "What mischief are you girls up to? Inever before heard so much giggling." Her beaming expression proved tothem that she was not displeased.
"Oh, Mrs. Angel, you surely were well named."
"_Such_ doughnuts! Do leave the platter, please; this one has melted inmy mouth already!"
"I do hope Bob won't come before we have them eaten!" were among theremarks that were uttered as the doughnuts vanished. Bertha, her eyesbrimming with laughter, had disappeared to return a second later with atray of glasses and a huge blue crockery pitcher. "This drink isappropriate, if nothing else," she announced gaily as she placed herburden on the long library table and began to pour out the creamy milk.
"It didn't take _you_ long to milk a cow," Peg sang out "Yum, this putsthe fresh into the refreshments."
"Oh-oo, Peg, _don't_ try to be funny. Can't be done, old dear," Merryteased, then held up a warning finger. "Hark! I hear sleigh bells coming.It's Bob, and Jack is with him. Alak for us and the six left doughnuts."
"Oh, well, they deserve them if anyone does, coming after us in a stormlike this," Gertrude remarked as she folded her sewing. "I'm glad theyhave come, for Mother doesn't feel very well and I wanted to be home intime to get supper."
A second later there was a great stamping on the side porch and the boys,after having brushed each other free of snow, entered, caps in hand.
"Bully for us!" Bob said. "Believe me, I know when to time my arrival atthese 'Spread on the Sunshine' Club meetings. However, wishing to bepolite, I'll wait until they're passed." Courteous as his words were, hedid not fit his action to them, for, having reached the table, he pouredout a tumbler of milk for Jack and tossed him a doughnut, which Jackcaught skillfully in his teeth.
The girls, always an appreciative audience, laughed and clapped theirhands. "Bertha, it was nice of you to provide a juggler to amuse yourguests," Rose remarked.
"Jack must have been a doggie in a former existence," Peg teased.
"Sure thing I was!" the boy replied good-naturedly. "I'd heaps ratherhave been a dog than a cat."
"Sir!" Peg stepped up threateningly near. "Are there any concealedinferences in that?"
"Nary a one. I think in a former existence _you_ girls must have all beensunbeams."
"Ha! ha!" Bob's hearty laughter expressed his enjoyment of the joke."That's a good one, but do get a move on, young ladies; I've got todeliver groceries after I have delivered you."
The girls flocked from the room, leaving the boys to finish thedoughnuts. In the wide front hall, as they were donning their wraps, theydid a good deal of whispering. "Meet at my house tomorrow afternoon."Peggy told them. "Bring any old duds you can find; we'll make up ourmilkmaid costumes and have a dress rehearsal."
