Part 55 (1/2)
Dolly joined rather shamefacedly in the general smile, as she thanked Florence, whose writing she had recognized. She was very apt to postpone her work until the last minute, and then rush through it as fast as possible; her compositions suffered from the many careless mistakes that she was always in too much of a hurry to correct, while her drawings belonged to what Jim called the ”slap-dash school.”
”We shall know by the amount of rubber left at the end of the term whether you have taken my valuable advice,” said Florence. ”What's in that other package, Baby? I know it is Anita's by the extreme elegance of its appearance.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY, SMALL SISTER,' SAID ANITA.”]
Dorothea opened an oblong package tied with green ribbon and found a set of blotters fastened to a dark green suede cover ornamented with an openwork design of four-leaf clovers, and a pen-wiper to match. On top lay a slip of paper on which was written in Anita's pretty hand:
Wis.h.i.+ng ”Our Youngest” good luck and a happy school year.
”I'm not good at verses, so you'll have to be content with plain prose,”
said Anita, and Dorothea a.s.sured her that she was quite satisfied.
”Half past eight, Dolly,” said her mother when breakfast was over. ”It is time you started.”
”Oh, not yet, mother,” said Dorothea the Dawdler. ”It only takes me fifteen minutes.”
”Now, see here,” said Jim; ”what do you suppose stirring young business-men like your father and brother are lingering until the nine o'clock train for, unless it is to see you off for school? We want to give you as good a send-off as possible, for you're going to be absent four whole hours, but we can't,--unless you do your part and begin to go pretty soon. I don't believe you've got all your books together, as it is.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'LEND ME YOUR PENCILS, WON'T YOU, JIM?' SAID DOROTHEA.”]
”Yes, I have,” answered Dorothea triumphantly. ”They are all on the hall table, for I put them there last night. Oh, gracious!” she exclaimed blankly: ”I forgot to see whether I had any pencils! I don't believe I have one! Jim, lend me yours, won't you? Just for to-day.”
”Lend you my most cherished possession? Never!” said Jim, placing his hand dramatically over his breast pocket.
”Then, Daddy, won't you please lend me yours?”
”Trot along, trot along!” said her father; and Dorothea, not knowing quite what to make of having her demands thus ignored, put on her big sailor hat and started to gather up her books. On top of the pile was a slender inlaid box under a card bearing the words, ”For Dolly, from Father.” Pus.h.i.+ng back the sliding cover, Dorothea saw that the box contained a row of pencils, all beautifully sharpened, a dozen pens, and a slim gunmetal penholder.
”Oh!” she squealed with delight. ”So that's why you wouldn't lend me any pencils!” and gave her father a hug.
”Hurry up, now,” said Jim. ”Don't forget we've got to see ourselves off after we've seen you.”
”Why don't you take your bag?” asked Anita.
”It's too small for my new Geography,” answered Dorothea, placing this huge outward and visible sign of her progress in learning so that it would form a foundation for the rest of her books. ”Besides, it's too shabby”.
”You had better take it to-day, anyhow, as you have so much to carry,”
suggested her mother. ”I brought it downstairs and it's on the hat-rack.”
”I just hate it!” pouted Dorothea, turning; and then stopped in surprise, for instead of her little old satchel, a large new one made of soft dark brown leather was hanging on the rack. It was ornamented on one side with her monogram in raised tan-colored letters, and it was large enough for the largest Geography that she was ever likely to have.
”Who gave me that?” she cried. ”Oh, I know--Mother! It's just exactly what I wanted. I think going to school this way is perfectly lovely!”
she added as she slipped her other possessions into the bag.
”Twenty minutes to nine!” called Jim warningly.
”All right, I'm going now,” answered Dorothea gaily as she kissed them all around.