A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays

by Amy Ella Blanchard

  Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sandra Eder and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's note:

  Text in small caps is marked with a tilde ~. A list of corrections madecan be found at the end of the book.

  A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays

  AMY E. BLANCHARD

  [Decoration]

  ~Whitman Publishing Co.~

  RACINE, WISCONSIN

  Copyright 1911 by George W. Jacobs & Co.

  A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays

  Printed in 1924 by Western Printing & Lithographing Co. Racine, Wis. Printed in U.S.A.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter Page

  I THE INVITATION 11

  II THE ARRIVAL 24

  III MISS ELOISE 39

  IV THE PORCH PARTY 54

  V THE LITTLE BUNGALOW 70

  VI IN THE FOG 84

  VII A SAILING PARTY 98

  VIII THE FIRE 114

  IX TO BOSTON 128

  X THE BAZAR 143

  XI OLD NORTH CHURCH 159

  XII HOME AGAIN 174

  A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays

  THE INVITATION

  It was a very warm morning in June. Edna and her friend Dorothy Evanswere sitting under the trees trying to keep cool. They both wore theirthinnest morning frocks and had pinned their hair up in little pugknots on the tops of their heads. They had their boxes of pieces andwere trying to make something suitable for their dolls to wear in thehot weather.

  "It's too sticky to sew," said Dorothy, throwing down her work."Marguerite will have to go without a frock and sit around in herskin."

  "You mean in her kid," returned Edna.

  "Well, isn't kid skin?" asked Dorothy.

  Edna laughed. "Why, yes, I suppose it is, and Ben says we are kids,so our skin is kid skin. Oh, dear, it is hot. I wish I were a fish; itwould be so nice to go slipping through the cool water."

  "Yes, but it wouldn't be so nice to be in a frying pan sizzling over afire."

  "I feel almost as if I were doing that now. There comes the postman, Iwonder if he has a letter from Jennie. We promised one another we wouldalways write on blue paper because blue is true, you know, and thatlooks as if it might be a blue letter the postman has on top. I'm goingto see."

  "I'll wait here," returned Dorothy. "It's too hot to move."

  She sat fanning herself with the lid of her piece box, watching herfriend the while. Once or twice Edna stopped on her way back, andfinally she began to dance up and down, then ran toward Dorothy,calling out, "Oh, there's a lovely something to tell you. Oh, I do hopeit can come true."

  "What is it?" cried Dorothy, roused out of her listlessness.

  "Just listen." Edna sat down and spread out the letter on her knee.

  "'We want you and Dorothy to come down to make me a nice long visit.Mamma is writing to your mothers about it and I do so hope you cancome. I shall be so awfully disappointed if you don't. Oh, Edna, weshall have such fun. I can scarcely wait to hear.'"

  "Do you suppose our mothers have their letters from Mrs. Ramsey?" askedDorothy now as much excited as Edna.

  "Do let's go and see," returned Edna. "We'll go up and ask my motherfirst because that will be the nearest and if she has her letter yourmother is pretty sure to have hers."

  All thought of the hot sun was forgotten as they sped across the lawnto the house, and two little girls with hot faces, panting as theycame, burst into the room where Mrs. Conway was reading her letters.

  "Oh, Mother," began Edna, "did you get a letter from Mrs. Ramsey?"

  "Mrs. Ramsay? Why, I don't know. I will see in a moment. Just wait tillI have finished this from your Aunt Kitty."

  It seemed incredible to Edna that any letter should be of moreimportance than Mrs. Ramsey's, and the two little girls danced aroundso impatiently that Mrs. Conway finally put down the sheet she wasreading and said, "How warm you children look. Do sit down and cooloff. I never saw such little fidgets."

  "We ran all the way from the oak tree," explained Edna. "We were insuch a hurry."

  "No wonder your faces are red. You are such an impetuous littlesomebody, Edna. You shouldn't forget that mother has so often told younot to run in the hot sun."

  "But we did so want to hear about Mrs. Ramsey's letter," replied Ednaanxiously. How could her mother take things so coolly?

  "Is it so very important, then?"

  "Oh, Mother, it is so exciting we can scarcely stand it till we know."

  "Then there is nothing to do but relieve the strain," said Mrs. Conwaylaughing. She turned over the letters at her side. "Let me see. This isfrom the dressmaker, and this one from cousin Grace. This must be it."She opened the letter with what seemed to the children a great lack ofhaste, and began to scan the lines, two pairs of eager eyes watchingher the while. "Ah, now I begin to understand," she remarked as sheturned the page.

  "Well," said Edna breathlessly.

  "Wait a moment, dear." And Edna was obliged to be patient till the lastline was reached.

  "Oh, Mother," said the child pleadingly, "you are going to let me go,aren't you?"

  "Why, dearie, I shall have to think about it a little. I can't say juston the instant, and I shall have to see what your father thinks aboutit."

  "But, Mother, won't you say that maybe I can? That will be better thannothing at all."

  Mrs. Conway smiled. "I think I can venture to say that much or even alittle more. I can say that I should like very much to have you go."

  "Goody! Goody!" cried Edna clapping her hands. "That is almost as ifyou said I really could. I had a letter from Jennie, Mother, and she isjust crazy for us to come. You know Dorothy is invited, too. Would youlike to see Jennie's letter?"

  "Very much."

  Edna promptly handed over the blue envelope, and was not disappointedto have her mother say, "That is a very nice cordial letter, Edna,and I am sure the invitation shows that both Mrs. Ramsey and Jenniereally want you. I will talk it over with your father this evening. Nowrun along, and don't exercise too vigorously this warm day, and don'tforget what I said about being in the sun." She returned to her lettersand Edna with Dorothy left the room.

  "Now we must go to my mother," declared Dorothy.

  "Yes, but we must walk slowly and I think we had better take anumbrella," returned Edna, fresh from her mother's advice.

  "All right," said Dorothy, "I think it would be better, for there isthat long sunny stretch along the road, though the rest of the way isshady."

  They set forth talking eagerly. "Don't you think it sounded as if Imight go?" asked Edna.

  "Why yes," replied Dorothy, "only I don't see how we can wait tillevening to know."

  "Do you believe your mother will say positively that you can or thatyou can't?"

  "I think she will say just what your mother did; that she will have totalk to papa about it, but--oh, Edna, I know what I shall do."

  "What?"

  "I shall ask mother if she can't telephone in to father and find out,and if she says she can't take the time to do it, I know Agnes will."

  "What a lovely idea!" exclaimed Edna. "I shall do that very same thingas soon as I get home."

  "And if he says yes, you can telephone over to me."

  "That's just what I'll do. Oh, isn't it exciting?"

  In spite of their determination to walk slowly, they covered the groundvery quickly and in a few minutes had reached Dorothy's home. "Where'smother?" cried Dorothy as she came upon her sister who was sitting onthe back porch.

&nb
sp; "She has gone over to Mrs. MacDonald's," Agnes told her.

  "Oh, dear," said Dorothy despairingly, "just when I wanted her so very,very much. Will she be gone long, Agnes?"

  "I don't know, honey. What is the particular haste? Can I help you out?"

  "I'm afraid not," answered Dorothy in a woe-begone voice. "Do you knowwhether mother has had a letter from Mrs. Ramsey this morning?"

  "I don't know that, either. She took her mail and said she would readit while she was driving over. What is it about Mrs. Ramsey, and whyare you so interested?"

  "We'll explain," replied Dorothy. "You let her read Jennie's letterEdna, and that will tell most of it."

  A second time Edna handed over the letter to be read, and when Agneshad finished, she told her about the letter Mrs. Conway had received.

  "And so you see," Dorothy took up the tale, "mother is sure to say justwhat Mrs. Conway did, only I thought we might find out sooner what papathought if we talked to him over the 'phone."

  "I don't see why we can't do that anyhow, and get that much settled,"said Agnes. "Suppose I call him up and tell him about it, then whenmother comes in we will tell her what he says, for she is pretty sureto have had Mrs. Ramsey's letter."

  "Oh, Agnes, that will be lovely," cried Dorothy, clasping her hand. "Itis awfully good of you to think of doing it."

  "Let me see," said Agnes, "I think father is pretty sure to be in hisoffice about this time; we might as well go and get it over."

  She went to the 'phone, the two little girls standing by while shecarried on the conversation, and once in a while one of them would putin a word of argument, so that they could be sure the last word hadbeen said on the subject. After a while Agnes hung up the receiver andlooked down with a smile.

  "That much is settled," she told them. "Father says he hasn't theslightest objection and leaves it all to mother to decide."

  "Then there is nothing to do but wait, I suppose," said Dorothy with asigh.

  "Why, I don't know," said Agnes after a moment's thought. "Why can'tyou call up Mrs. MacDonald's and get mother there? She will have readthe letter, you see, and it will be fresh in her mind."

  "Why, of course," said Dorothy delightedly.

  "Shall I do it myself, Agnes?"

  "You might as well plead your own cause."

  So Dorothy was soon discussing the matter with her mother, and finallywon from her the assurance that she did not see anything to prevent,though she would not say positively until she had discussed it withMrs. Conway.

  "Then, Mother, will you please stop there on your way home?" wasDorothy's final prayer.

  "She's going to stop and talk it over with your Mother on her wayhome," was the news she gave Edna. "Now I suppose that is all that wecan do. Do you think it is, Agnes?" she asked.

  "I don't see why Edna couldn't call up her father just as you didyours," returned Agnes, "and then there would be only the mothers todeal with."

  "Why, of course," agreed Dorothy, with a pleased look. "Come on, Edna,and see what he says."

  But here they met with a disappointment, for Mr. Conway was not athis office and it was uncertain when he would be, so his word on thesubject must be left till later.

  At Dorothy's urgent request Edna stayed until Mrs. Evans' return,and the two spent most of the intervening time in watching for thecarriage.

  At last it was seen slowly coming up the drive, and the two littlegirls rushed out to meet it.

  "Go in out of the hot sun," called Mrs. Evans, as the little figurestook up a place either side of the carriage. "What are you thinking of?Do you want to have a sunstroke?"

  "Oh, but, Mother, please stop and let us get in; then we won't be inthe sun," said Dorothy.

  "Stop then, William," Mrs. Evans ordered the driver, and the twochildren clambered in.

  "We just can't wait," began Dorothy. "Mother, do please tell us whatyou and Mrs. Conway decided."

  "We decided that we would not decide until we found out what ourhusbands had to say."

  "Oh, but we know what your husband has to say," returned Dorothytriumphantly. "Agnes called him up on the 'phone and he said he had noobjection as far as he was concerned and he would leave it all to you."

  Mrs. Evans laughed. "Well, you certainly have not wasted any time."

  "Then, please, please say what you think."

  "Why, my dear, you haven't given me time to think."

  "How long will it take, then," continued Dorothy, pressing the matter.

  "I will try to decide by this evening. There is no great hurry, isthere?"

  "Why, Mother, of course there is. I don't think I could sleep unless Iknew."

  "Then, I shall try to prevent such a catastrophe by settling it beforebedtime. Here we are. You will stay to lunch won't you, Edna?"

  "Why, no, Mrs. Evans, thank you, I don't think I ought, for I didn'ttell mother I would stay."

  "Then let William take you home; it is too warm to walk. The horseshaven't been very far, and William can drive slowly."

  So the two little girls parted and Edna returned to her own home. Shewas not long in finding her mother, and in plying her with questionsupon the all-important subject, but she received no further assurancethan had been given her in the beginning and was fain to exercise herpatience and unburden herself to her sister Celia, who was interestedand sympathetic. But at last even Celia became tired of the topic andwent off to take a nap in her own room. So Edna went down to a coolspot at the back of the house where there was a little stream, andtried to amuse herself with a book.

  But even her favorite fairy tales failed to fix her attention, so shereturned to the house to find everyone given up to napping and theplace so still that finally in the coolest corner of the library wherea little breeze found its way through the open windows, she herselffell asleep.

  When she awoke it was to hear her father's voice saying: "Hallo! who isthis? The Sleeping Beauty?"

  "Oh, Papa," cried Edna, awake in a moment, "how nice and early you havecome home."

  "It was too hot to stay in the city any longer than necessary," herfather told her. "There wasn't much doing, so I thought I would bebetter off here."

  "I called you up on the 'phone this morning," said Edna, "but youweren't at the office."

  "And what did you want of me?"

  "Mother will tell you," answered Edna, suddenly shy of meeting adecision which might disappoint her.

  "Then I'd better find mother and see what it is all about."

  Left to herself Edna waited for what seemed to her a very long time,quite long enough for the affairs of a nation to be settled, and thenshe went slowly up the stairs, and paused before the open door of hermother's room. To her surprise her parents were talking about somethingquite different from the subject uppermost in her own mind.

  "Edna, dear," said her mother, catching sight of the little figure,"you'd better get ready for dinner. We shall have it a little earlier,so Susan won't be kept so late over the hot fire."

  Edna took a step into the room. "Did you ask him?" she said wistfully.

  "Ask what? Oh, yes, I forgot dear," she said turning to her husband."Edna has had a very cordial invitation from Mrs. Ramsey to spendsome weeks at the Ramsey's summer home. She and Dorothy Evans are bothinvited, and I think the Ramseys really will be disappointed if we donot allow Edna to go. What do you think?"

  Wasn't it just like mother to put it that way? thought Edna. Surely herfather could not be so heartless as to refuse his consent after that.

  Her faith in her mother's tact was not misplaced for her fatherreplied: "Why, I think that will be great for Edna. Of course let hergo."

  "Oh, Mother, Mother, may I? May I?" cried Edna with clasped hands andbeseeching eyes.

  Her mother turned from the mirror before which she was standing toarrange her hair. "Well, honey," she said. "I think it is decided thatyou may."

  Edna flew to her to bestow a rapturous hug and kiss, and then sped outof the room and downstairs to the telephone. "One, s
ix, seven; ringtwo," she called in an excited voice.

  Presently there was an answering "Hallo," from the other end.

  "Is that you, Dorothy?" called Edna.

  "Yes. Oh, Edna, I hoped it was you. Do tell me, is there any news?"

  "I'm going," came the triumphant reply.

  "So am I," came promptly back to her.