The Project Gutenberg eBook, Adele Doring at Boarding School, by Grace May North, Illustrated by Florence Liley Young

ADELE DORING AT BOARDING-SCHOOL

“Oh, girls, I just know we are going to have the best times ever.”

ADELE DORING AT

BOARDING-SCHOOL

By

GRACE MAY NORTH

Author of “Adele Doring of the Sunnyside Club,”

and “Adele Doring on a Ranch”

Illustrated by

FLORENCE LILEY YOUNG

BOSTON

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Published, September, 1921

Copyright, 1921,

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.

All Rights Reserved

Adele Doring at Boarding-School

Norwood Press

BERWICK & SMITH CO.

Norwood, Mass.

U. S. A.

Dedicated to the many girls in the “Sunnyside Club of California,” who have so often written the author telling her how dearly they love Adele Doring, and how they do wish that they could be like her

ILLUSTRATIONS

• [“Oh, girls, I just know we are going to have the best times ever!”]
• [“Huh! Nothin’ but girls”]
• [“I do believe that a young girl posed for that statue”]
• [“This is Matilda Perkins”]
• [Beyond was the figure of a young girl lying on the ground]
• [Then little Betty stepped forward holding a long velvet box]

Adele Doring at Boarding-School

CHAPTER ONE
A NEW SUNNYSIDER

“Hark to the carol of the old school bell,
Hark to the message that it has to tell;
Ring it, sing it far and near,
Vacation is over and school days are here.”

Adele Doring sang merrily as she stood in front of the library mirror placing her rose-colored tam-o’-shanter jauntily on the nut-brown locks that curled about her pretty face in soft ringlets.

“Are you glad that vacation is over, little daughter?” Mrs. Doring asked as she came in from the garden with a big bowl of yellow chrysanthemums, which she placed on the magazine-strewn table.

“Oh, Mumsie!” Adele exclaimed as she whirled about with shining eyes. “I seem to be always delighted over each new thing that happens. Last summer I was so glad to go with brother Jack to the desert and I had such a beautiful time with Eva and Amanda on their Uncle Dick’s interesting cattle ranch, and then how glad I was to come home again to my Adorable Mother and my Giant Daddy. I have had a wonderful vacation, and now, I am just ever so eager to go back to school, and, think of it, Mumsie, I am in the eighth grade this term, and next year I shall be going to Dorchester High with my big brother Jack.”

While Adele was chattering, she slipped on her rose-colored sweater coat, and then, gathering up her books, she gave her mother a light kiss on the forehead and danced away.

It was hard for her to keep from hippety-hopping down the village street, but she reminded herself that she was fourteen now and almost a young lady, but, when she reached the short cut across the meadows, she skipped in little-girl fashion, waving her free hand in greeting to a bird which darted out of the grass and skyward with a joyous song.

Hearing her name called, she turned and waited for Rosamond Wright, who came up quite breathless from running.

“Good-morning, Rosie. Are you glad vacation is over?” Adele inquired.

The maiden addressed shook her head, which set her short yellow curls to bobbing. “No, not really glad,” she replied. “You know that I would much rather play than study. Look, Della, there are the girls waiting for us at the crossing. Carol Lorens, a new pupil, is with them. Have you met her yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” Adele replied, “but Gertrude Willis tells me that she is ever so nice and that we shall be glad to have her join the Sunnyside Club.” Then, waving a hand to the waiting group, Della called, “Top o’ the morning to you!”

There was a merry chorus of greetings in response, and the irrepressible Betty Burd darted forward and taking Adele’s hand, she sang out, “Miss Carol Lorens, permit me to introduce you to everybody’s favorite, Adele Doring.”

“Oh, Bettykins!” Della exclaimed reprovingly. Then, turning to the slender, pleasant-faced girl, who had recently come to Sunnyside, she held out her hand saying sincerely, “Miss Lorens, we are ever so glad to welcome you to our town and to our school.”

“Thank you,” Carol replied. “I know that I shall just love it here. However, I am not sure that I am to be in your school. We have but recently moved from the Middle West. I had finished the eighth grade there and was ready for high, but since there is no high school in Sunnyside, Father thought I would better report here this morning and ask the advice of the principal. You see, I am a year older than you girls, for I am fifteen.”

“I wish that you might attend our school,” Adele said as they entered the yard. “We do have such merry times, but,” she added brightly, “even if you have to attend the Dorchester High, you can be with us on Saturdays.”

The last bell was ringing and so they trooped into the building, promising to meet under the elm-tree as soon as they had been assigned to their classes. The real work of the school was not to begin until the following day.

An hour later they were again together. “Well, Carol, what did Mr. Dickerson decide?” Adele inquired. “You look almost sad about something.”

“I am indeed sorry that I cannot be in the class with the rest of you,” the older girl replied, “but Mr. Dickerson says that my report shows that I have been over the work of the eighth grade thoroughly and that I ought to attend the Dorchester High.”

“We are sorry, too,” Adele said, “but we shall see you often, Carol, as we want you to join our Sunnyside Club.”

“I shall be glad to,” the newcomer replied, happily, “and thank you for inviting me.”

Then they parted, going in different directions. Carol’s thoughts were happy ones as she tripped along through the village and out on the Lake Road.

She smiled to herself as she thought of the merry group of girls she had just left. Carol had dreaded coming to this strange place, fearing that she would be very lonely, but now she was to be made a member of the Sunnyside Club, and she knew that she would love every one of the girls.

Then her thoughts went back over all that had happened in the past month. There had been the beautiful home in a suburb of Chicago, for her father had been a prosperous lawyer, then, for reasons which she never understood, there had been a heavy financial loss, everything they possessed had been sold, and they had moved to the farmhouse which had been her father’s boyhood home, on the Lake Road just out of the town of Sunnyside.

She liked to think of her father as a barefoot boy swinging on the gate which she was then approaching. From the very first day she had felt at home in the comfortable brown house which stood in the midst of a rambling apple orchard. The gnarled old trees were a source of endless delight to her seven-year-old brother and sister, David and Dorothy.

As Carol opened the gate, she heard merry, chattering noises which she knew were made by the twins, who, hidden in the branches, were pretending that they were birds.

As she walked up the gravelly path, the youngsters slid down a near-by apple-tree and pounced upon her.

“You promised to play with us when you came home from school,” David cried, “and I want to choose the game,” he hurried to add.

“Why, David Lorens!” his twin sister cried indignantly. “You know it isn’t your turn to choose a game. You chose yesterday and so it is my turn.”

“Tut! Tut! Children!” Carol laughingly admonished. “Climb up in the tree again and be happy little birds until I come out, and then we three will do something ever so interesting.”

Carol little dreamed that the something that they were to do would make a wonderful change in her life.

CHAPTER TWO
THE OGRE

Dancing into the sunny living-room, Carol called, “Mother mine, we have a problem to solve. Can you guess what it is?”

Mrs. Lorens glanced up from the blue patch that she was sewing on a small pair of overalls as she replied, “Yes, dear, I can guess. The principal of the Sunnyside school thinks that you are too advanced to take the work of the eighth grade again.”

“Why, Mother dear, are you a mind-reader?” Carol asked as she sat on a stool near by. “That is just what happened, and in one way I am ever so sorry. Of course I am eager to get through high as soon as possible, so that I may help Daddy ‘recuperate his fallen fortunes,’ as he calls it, but I am really disappointed not to be able to attend this school, for I met seven of the loveliest girls, and they asked me to join their Sunnyside Club. Mother dear, what am I to do? It will cost quite a little to send me to the city of Dorchester every day, and that is the nearest high school.”

Mrs. Lorens smiled lovingly at her daughter. “The right way always opens for us, dear,” she said. “Just now I am not sure what it is, but this evening your father and I will talk it over,” then she added with a little sigh, “I had so hoped, Carol, that you might go to boarding-school this year to study music and drawing, for which I am sure that you have natural talent, but, because of our changed circumstances, I fear that it cannot be. That is why your brother Peter gave up going to college this term. He will continue his law studies with your father and assist him in the office, but, if we all economize, and go without something this winter, you may be able to go away to school by another fall.”

Carol sprang up and kissed her mother impulsively. “You go without, Mummie?” she exclaimed indignantly. “Well, I just guess not! If Peter and I need more ‘iddication,’ as Pat used to call it, then we’ll earn the money ourselves.”

The mother smiled into the earnest brown eyes. She had so wanted Carol and Peter to have the advantages of higher education, but how proud she was of them for bearing their disappointment so bravely.

“Mummie,” Carol was saying, “the twins are waiting for me without. Have you an errand that we can do for you?”

“Yes, dear,” the mother replied. “Your father left a bundle of legal papers on the desk in his study and you are to take them to Mr. Dartmoor’s, and your father told me to tell you to give them to the old gentleman himself, as they are very important.”

“Then it shall be done!” Carol replied brightly, kissing her mother and skipping away.

A moment later she appeared on the front path.

“Dorothy! David!” she called. “Where are you?” and then, as the two scrambled down from a tree, she explained, “I have an errand to do for Father, and, if you wish to go with me, I’ll run you a race.”

“I’ll beat you both!” David cried lustily when they were out on the highway, which led toward Little Bear Lake.

“Not while your twin Dorothy has such long spider-legs,” Carol laughingly replied, and then, away they ran down the country road which was bordered with goldenrod and purple asters. As Carol had prophesied, Dorothy easily won the race, then, being quite out of breath, they continued their way at a slower pace.

Half a mile beyond, they could see what appeared to be a dense wood, but which, in reality, was a beautiful estate, where, in the midst of fine old trees, stood the castle-like home of their father’s richest client, Mr. Dartmoor.

Soon Carol and the two children passed under an imposing archway, and walked along the circling drive. On either side of wide stone steps, lions crouched, as though about to spring upon the unwelcome visitor.

“You tiny tads stay here,” Carol said softly, “while I go inside and call upon the ogre.”

“Oh Carol,” Dorothy whispered, her eyes wide with sudden fear, “is Mr. Dartmoor really an ogre?”

“No, of course not!” the big sister laughingly replied. “I’ve never seen him, but I’ll tell you all about him when I come out.”

Then Carol went up the steps and lifted the heavy iron knocker and smiled reassuringly down at the children, who stood watching her, almost fearfully, at the foot of the stone steps.

“Skip over and look at the fountain,” she called softly, and then turned, for the door was opening.

A serving-man in blue-and-gold livery admitted her in to a dimly-lighted, softly-carpeted hall. Having stated her errand, Carol sat on the edge of a chair holding fast to her bundle of important papers, and waited the appearance of the old gentleman who Peter had told her looked like an ogre.

“How solemn and quiet everything is,” she thought as she glanced about, “but of course there is nothing to be afraid of.”

Just then she heard a cane knocking across the floor in an adjoining room, the velvet portières parted and Mr. Dartmoor himself stood before her.

“How do you do, little lady?” he said, and his voice did not sound at all like an ogre’s.

Carol slipped from the chair and half curtsied. “I’m very well, sir, thank you,” she replied. “I am Carol Lorens, and my father asked me to give you this bundle of legal papers.”

“So you are Mr. Lorens’ little girl? You are about fourteen, are you not?” the old gentleman asked kindly.

“I am fifteen,” Carol replied less timidly.

“I have a granddaughter who is the same age,” Mr. Dartmoor said as he held back a portière. “Yonder is her portrait.”

“Oh, how lovely she must be!” Carol exclaimed as she stepped inside the room and gazed admiringly at the life-sized painting which hung over the mantel. A beautiful young girl looked out at them and a shaggy collie stood at her side.

“Does your granddaughter live here with you?” Carol asked.

The old gentleman shook his head sadly. “No,” he replied. “Evelyn’s parents are dead and I have placed her in a good boarding-school, but she is very, very lonely. Her mother left her only a few weeks ago.”

“Poor Evelyn!” Carol said and there were tears in her eyes. “I did so want to go to boarding-school myself, but I would far rather have my mother.”

Mr. Dartmoor went to the door with Carol and the twins raced from the fountain to meet her. They went shyly up the wide stone steps when the old gentleman called to them. True, he had shaggy grey eyebrows but the blue eyes underneath them were twinkling.

When the children were again on the highway, David exclaimed, “I don’t believe that Mr. Dartmoor is an ogre at all. He looks so kind and jolly. I think he is Santa Claus.”

“Maybe so!” Carol laughingly replied, and then she told the twins about the old gentleman’s beautiful granddaughter Evelyn, who was in a boarding-school near Buffalo.

Suddenly Dorothy asked, “Carol, don’t you feel awfully sorry ’cause you can’t go away to boarding-school like you expected to?”

Carol smiled down at the pretty upturned face of her little sister as she replied, “Yes, dear, I am very sorry.”

“Then why don’t you cry?” asked David. “Dorothy always cries when she can’t have what she wants.”

“I don’t always, so now!” exclaimed his small twin, stamping her foot and flashing her eyes. “You cried yourself when your stupid old balloon burst.”

“Do you want to know why I don’t cry?” Carol asked quickly, to quiet the impending storm. “Well, it’s because our mother tells us that every cloud has a silver lining and I make believe that not going to boarding-school is a big, black cloud, and I’m trying to think what its silver lining would be. Saving the money and making things easier for Mummie, I suppose.”

Just then a squirrel darted across the path and the twins gave merry chase, while Carol, left alone, walked along slowly, thinking of the lovely orphan girl who had everything the world could give except a mother. Tears rushed to her eyes as she tried to picture what life would be without her own dearest “mummie.”

When the house was reached Carol went directly to the living-room and throwing her arms about her mother, she clung to her as though she would never let her go again.

“What is it, darling?” Mrs. Lorens asked as she pressed her cheek against the tear-wet face of her daughter.

Then Carol told all about Evelyn. “Oh Mummie, Mummie,” she implored, “promise that you will never, never leave us.”

“Tut, tut, daughter of mine!” her mother replied brightly. “As Grandpa Lorens used to say, ‘Don’t let’s worry about a thing until it has happened, and even then, worrying doesn’t help any.’ Hark! The clock is striking five and supper not begun. Call Dorothy and David, and tell them that it is time to set the table.”

Carol obeyed and she laughed and chattered with the twins while they all helped their mother prepare the evening meal, but, in spite of her assumed cheerfulness, she could not forget poor lonely Evelyn Dartmoor. How she hoped that some day she would meet her.

Surprising things happen, and before that week was over, Carol had met Evelyn in a way that brought great happiness into both of their lives.

CHAPTER THREE
TWO SURPRISES

Meanwhile Mr. Dartmoor had returned to his study thinking of the three children who had just departed. “A merry brood!” he said aloud, but his smile faded when he looked at the painting of his granddaughter. “Poor Evelyn!” he thought, “I wish that I knew how to make you happy.”

Then sitting at his desk, he picked up his morning mail and found on top a letter from his granddaughter.

Opening it, he read,

“Dearest Granddad:

“I am so lonely, so lonely! Won’t you please let me come back to you? There is no one here who can understand. I watch the girls laughing and playing games, but I do not think that I shall ever be able to join them again. I would not mind so much if only they would leave me alone, but Madame Deriby insists that I have a roommate, and there is no one I want to have room with me. Oh, Granddad! What shall I do? Must I stay?

“Your unhappy granddaughter,

“Evelyn.”

“My poor little lassie!” Mr. Dartmoor said as he sat with the letter open in his hand and looked up at the painting. “But Madame Deriby is right! Evelyn should have a companion, some one bright and cheery, yet, some one who could understand.”

At that very moment Mr. Dartmoor saw, in his memory, Carol’s sweet face, and the tears brimming her eyes, as she said, “I did so want to go to boarding-school myself, but I would far rather have my mother.”

“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr. Dartmoor aloud as he rang a bell and ordered his carriage. Soon he was being driven down the country road toward the brown house on the edge of the village.

David upon hearing the wheels in the drive ran to a front room window where he could get a better view. Dorothy skipped to join him and then she called excitedly, “Carol, look quick! Here is your ogre coming to pay you a visit.”

“He isn’t an ogre, so now!” David protested. “He’s Santa Claus!” Just at that moment Mr. Lorens entered the dining-room. “What are the twins so excited about?” he inquired.

“They say that Mr. Dartmoor is coming up the drive,” Carol replied.

“You delivered the papers, did you not, daughter?” her father asked anxiously.

“Yes, Dad, I gave them to Mr. Dartmoor himself.”

Just then the bell rang, and Mr. Lorens, hoping that nothing had been wrong with the legal document which he had prepared with great care, went to open the door.

When greetings had been exchanged, Mr. Dartmoor asked if he might speak for one moment with Mr. and Mrs. Lorens.

Wondering what the conference was to be about, Mr. Lorens called his wife, and together they went into a small room which Peter had named his “Den.”

Carol, like the good little housekeeper that she was, finished cooking the supper and placed it in the warming-oven to wait the reappearance of her parents.

The twins, in the outer hall, watched the closed door curiously and tried to guess what their Santa Claus was talking about.

At last, to their great relief, the door opened and their mother beckoned to them. David darted in ahead of the others, but no one reproved his forgotten manners, instead, their parents were smiling as though some great good fortune had befallen them.

“Carol,” Mrs. Lorens exclaimed, taking her daughter’s hand, “what do you suppose that Mr. Dartmoor has been telling us?”

“Something nice, I am sure,” that girl replied, “for you and Dad look so happy.”

“I hope that you will think that it is nice,” the old gentleman said kindly. “Carol, I want you to go to Linden Hall Seminary to be a roommate and companion for my granddaughter Evelyn. Will you go?”

“Oh, Mr. Dartmoor!” the girl exclaimed joyfully. “How I would love to go if Mother could spare me, but who would help her around the house?”

“I would!” cried little Dorothy clapping her hands. “Mother said that I might be her helper some day, and this is some day, isn’t it, Mummie?”

Mrs. Lorens smiled brightly. It was hard for her to speak, her heart was so full. The advantages which she had so wished her daughter to have were to come in a beautiful way, for Carol was to give much in exchange.

“Then it is all settled, and I am truly grateful to your father and mother for permitting you to go. It will mean more than I can tell you to my lonely granddaughter.”

Then, before the girl could express the gratitude and joy which she felt, Mr. Dartmoor was gone.

The next afternoon when the Sunny Seven trooped out of their school, they found Carol Lorens waiting for them under the elm-tree.

Her eyes were glowing like two stars and Adele, catching her hand, said:

“Why, Carol, what good news have you to tell us? Have you found out where you are to go to school?”

Carol nodded. “That’s why I came to-day,” she said, “because I can’t be here to-morrow to attend the meeting of the Sunnyside Club.”

Betty Burd clapped her hands gleefully as she cried, “Oh, I can guess where you are going. To a girls’ boarding-school somewhere.”

“Right you are!” Carol replied, looking brightly around at the eager group, and then she told them all the wonderful things that had happened since she had last seen them.

“You will love Evelyn Dartmoor!” Doris Drexel exclaimed. “I met her when she and her mother spent a few days here last spring.”

“Oh, I just know that I shall love her!” Carol replied, and then she added impulsively, “Girls, you have all been so good to me! You can’t guess what it means to a stranger to be treated so kindly. I expected to be lonely and left out and you have been just like old friends. How I do wish that you were going to boarding-school with me.”

“Queer things happen!” Adele replied. “Maybe your wish will come true.”

Adele spoke jokingly, for little did she dream that queer things were to happen, and soon.

CHAPTER FOUR
NEW FACES AND NEW PLACES

Carol awoke bright and early the next morning and her first thought was that something wonderful was about to happen. Then she remembered that she was going away to boarding-school. Springing up, she began to dress.

“Just think,” she said to her reflection in the mirror, “this is the last time that you will look out of this glass in ever and ever so long.” Then she added after a thoughtful moment, “Carol Lorens, you don’t seem very happy. Aren’t you glad that you are going?”

“Good-morning, darling!” a sweet voice called from the doorway and whirling around, Carol nestled in her mother’s arms as she exclaimed, “Oh, Mummie, Mummie! I don’t believe that I want to go and leave you after all.”

“Of course we will both be lonely, daughter dear,” her mother said brightly, “but you are not going far away and I want you to bring Evelyn home to us for at least part of the holidays. Moreover I shall expect long, newsy letters from my big girl telling me that she is making the most of the wonderful advantages that have been given her. Now, dear, make haste! The train leaves at nine and Father and Peter are waiting to have breakfast with you.”

Then followed a very exciting half-hour. There was much laughter and bantering, and a few tears that would come. Peter gave Carol many a nonsensical piece of advice, for had he not been away to college?

Later, the father, alone with her for one moment, took both of her hands in his as he said, “Daughter, when a problem confronts you, ask yourself, ‘What would my mother do?’ and then do likewise.”

He held her close in his strong arms, and then walked rapidly away to join Peter who was waiting at the gate.

The baggage men arrived to take her trunk, and then, before she had time to turn around, there arose a joyous shouting out on the lawn. “Carol! Carol!” the twins were calling. “Here comes Mr. Dartmoor’s carriage. It’s time for you to go.”

Carol wondered afterwards how she had managed to say good-bye to her mother and the twins without crying, but little mother had been so brave and smiling that she had smiled too, and then, as they drove away, the courtly Mr. Dartmoor began talking of Evelyn and before long they had reached the station and there were the members of the Sunnyside Club gathered to bid her good-bye.

Carol had just time to introduce them to the old gentleman, when the train came puffing around the curve.

“Do write to us the very first moment that you have to spare,” Adele called. “You just can’t guess how we are all envying you because you are going away to boarding-school.”

“I promise!” Carol replied and she smilingly waved through an open window as long as she could see her friends.

The two hours to Buffalo passed quickly and then there was another hour on a noisy little local train, but Carol was so interested in all she saw that the time passed quickly, and it hardly seemed possible that they could have reached the end of their journey when she heard the brakeman call, “Linden!”

Her heart beat rapidly. In another moment she would see the beautiful Evelyn. How she did hope that they were to be good friends.

They two were the only passengers to alight at the station of Linden, and at once Carol saw a tall, slender girl in black, who came hurrying forward. With a little cry of joy, she threw her arms about Mr. Dartmoor’s neck, and for a moment neither spoke.

“Oh, Granddad!” Evelyn said at last. “How lonely, lonely I have been since I saw you!”

“Well, we’re here now,” Mr. Dartmoor exclaimed brightly, “and this is my little friend Carol Lorens.”

Evelyn held out her hand to the other girl as she said, “I am so glad that you have come. Having a friend of Granddad’s here will be almost like having Granddad himself.”

“I am glad, too,” Carol replied simply. On the train Mr. Dartmoor had asked her not to tell Evelyn at present how she happened to come to Linden.

The school bus was waiting, and Mr. Dartmoor gallantly helped the girls in and sat opposite them. Then to entertain them on the drive, he told them that Carol’s grandfather and he had been “pals” when they were boys.

“Then it is but natural that you and I should be friends,” Evelyn declared.

Suddenly Carol gave an exclamation of pleasure. They had been slowly climbing a hill road, and below them was the scattered village of Linden and wide meadows that stretched to the lake. Soon they were turning into an elm-shaded driveway. On either side were well-kept lawns and gardens aglow with autumn flowers.

Set far back among sheltering trees was a rambling building, which in the front looked like a pillared colonial mansion.

“This is Linden Hall!” Evelyn said brightly. “Isn’t it a beautiful place?” Mr. Dartmoor noted with a glad heart that already his granddaughter looked happier.

“Oh!” Carol exclaimed, clasping her hands. “I could learn anything here, I am sure. Even Chinese if I had to!”

“Luckily we do not have to,” Evelyn responded almost merrily. “I am sure that I could not learn foreign languages if the school were in the Garden of Eden.”

For several moments they rode beneath a canopy formed by the interlacing branches of the great old elms. At last the bus stopped under a covered archway at the front of the house.

Carol felt awed as she followed Evelyn up the stone steps and through the door, which she knew would be for her the portal to many new and wonderful experiences.

CHAPTER FIVE
A LETTER FROM CAROL

Three days after the departure of Carol Lorens for Linden, Adele Doring received a letter bearing that postmark.

“O goodie!” she cried, in little-girl fashion. “Thank you, Mr. Drakely. I have been ever so eager to receive this letter.”

The postman smiled down at her and was surprised to see her thrust the envelope, unopened, into the pocket of her rose-colored sweater coat.

“Why, Adele, aren’t you going to read it?” the mail-carrier, who had known her from babyhood, asked. “I thought you were so anxious to get it.”

“I suppose it does look queer,” Adele laughingly replied, “but I’m on my way to school, you see, and I don’t want to read it until we girls are all together. It’s for them as much as it is for me.”

Then away she skipped, and, as usual, she found the Sunny Six waiting for her under the elm-tree.

“It’s come!” she cried, joyfully waving the letter over her head.

“Oh, good! Is it a letter from Carol Lorens?” Betty Burd inquired.

“I’m glad that we are all early,” Doris Drexel declared. “Let’s sit down on the bench while Adele reads it to us.”

The envelope was torn open and Adele began:

“Dear Sunnysiders: I am having the most wonderful experiences one right after another, and how I do wish that you were here to share them with me. I’m going to keep a-wishing and A-WISHING until you do come; so you might as well begin to pack your satchels.

“This is the most beautiful old house, with wings added for dormitories when it became a school. There is a glorious view from every window, but I am not going to tell you about that. I am so very sure that you will all see it with your own eyes some day soon.

“Well, to begin at the beginning, when we arrived, Evelyn took me to the office of the nicest woman—next to Mother—whom I have ever met. Madame Deriby is tall and stately with soft, silvery hair, a beautiful face and the kindest, gentlest manner imaginable. I knew at once that I was going to adore her, and oh, girls, Evelyn is so nice, I am sure that you will all love her.

“The room that we are to have together is the prettiest. It is decorated in yellow and looks as though it were flooded with sunlight, even when it is cloudy. There are two small beds and Evelyn has her things on one side of the room and I have mine on the other.

“I haven’t met any of the other pupils as yet, but there are forty of all ages, Evelyn tells me.

“The ‘get-ready-for-dinner’ bell has just rung, so I will say good-bye for now. I’ll write to you often, but oh, girls, do beg and beseech your nice mothers to let you come to Linden Hall boarding-school soon.

“Your newest Sunnysider,

“Carol Lorens.”

“How I do wish that we could go!” Doris Drexel sighed. “It must be a wonderful place, so high on a hill.”

“I couldn’t go if the rest of you did,” Betty Burd declared, “and I’d be so lonely with all of you away.”

Adele slipped an arm about the little girl as she said merrily, “But Bettykins, we aren’t any of us going. Mother wishes me to finish out this term with Miss Donovan. There’s the last bell. Forward! March!”

Little did the girls dream of the unexpected news that they were about to hear.

When they entered the schoolhouse, they were surprised to find the door of the eighth grade closed and locked. On it a note was pinned, which Adele wonderingly read aloud:

“Pupils of 8A please report at Mr. Dickerson’s office.”

The girls looked at each other in amazement. Surely something must have happened to their beloved Miss Donovan. They found the principal in his office looking very grave. He smiled when he saw their solemn, almost frightened faces.

“Young ladies,” he said, “it is not so dreadful as all that, though I must confess I am very much troubled to know just what I ought to do.”

Then he explained that Miss Donovan had been called to her home in a neighboring town and that she had wired back that her elderly mother needed her care, and therefore would be unable to return that term.

The girls were truly grieved to hear this, and impulsive Betty Burd exclaimed, “Why, Mr. Dickerson, how can we get on without Miss Donovan?”

“We will not decide yet,” the principal said kindly. “I have sent to the city to see if another competent eighth-grade teacher can be procured, but it is late, and the classes everywhere are started. However, it is possible that one may be found. Report here to-morrow morning and I shall then be able to tell you what we will do.”

The next morning at nine the girls were again waiting in Mr. Dickerson’s office, and a few moments later he appeared.

“Well, young ladies,” he said, “I have been unsuccessful, and so the Board has suggested that you go to Dorchester to finish this term’s work. You would have to go there next term, anyway, so perhaps that is the best solution of our difficulty.”

As soon as the girls were again under the elm-tree, Adele faced them with glowing eyes. “Of course I am very sorry to lose our Miss Donovan,” she said. “We all love her dearly, but since we can’t have her, I am really glad that everything turned out just as it has, because, instead of going to Dorchester, perhaps we may all be able to go—guess where?”

“To the Linden Hall boarding-school!” Rosamond Wright joyfully responded.

“Oh, how I do wish that we could!” Peggy Pierce exclaimed.

“Let’s go home this very minute and ask our fathers and mothers if we may go,” Adele suggested, “and then this afternoon, let’s meet at our Secret Sanctum and discuss our plans.”

That afternoon at three, the seven maidens met at the log cabin in the meadows that were now purple and gold with bright autumn flowers.

“Girls, let’s begin this meeting at once,” Adele exclaimed. “We’re all here, and I’m just wild to tell you my great and glorious news.”

“Meeting is called to order,” said Bertha Angel, who was now the chairman, and so the girls sat tailor-wise upon the floor.

“Madame President,” Bertha began, but Adele interrupted, “Oh, Burdie, don’t let’s be formal to-day. Let’s each say just whatever we wish. I am wild to know who can go to boarding-school besides myself.”

“I, for one!” Rosamond Wright drawled. “My mamma dear will be glad to be rid of me, I am sure.”

“Father thinks that it will be an excellent plan for me to go if there is a college preparatory course at Linden Hall,” Bertha Angel told them quite calmly. The practical Bertha was never wildly hilarious, whatever happened.

“That’s splendid,” Adele exclaimed joyfully, “and I know by her beaming expression that Peggy Pierce can go, and as for Doris Drexel, her devoted daddy always lets her do whatever she wishes. How about you, Bettykins?” she asked, turning to the youngest member, who was looking so dismal that they all knew at once that she could not go.

“I told Mother about it,” Betty began, “and she said that she was sorry, but she couldn’t think of asking Uncle George to spend another penny for me. You know when Papa died, Uncle George asked us to come right up here and live with him, and Mother says that it costs him ever so much to have us. Of course I’d love to go, but I—I just can’t.”

Poor little Betty found the disappointment harder than she could bear bravely, and tears splashed down her cheeks.

“You won’t be left alone, Bettykins,” Gertrude Willis said as she slipped an arm about their youngest member, “for I am not going, either.”

“Gertrude, aren’t you going?” came a chorus of protesting voices.

“Well, we simply can’t go without you, or Bettykins either,” Doris Drexel declared.

“Yes, you can,” Gertrude replied brightly, “and Betty and I shall expect long letters from you every week telling all about the good times that you are having.”

“But what will you do, Trudie, about going to school?” Bertha inquired. These two girls were always at the head of their classes and Bertha well knew that her friend did not want to have her studies interrupted.

“Father is going to teach me some of the subjects and Mother the others,” Gertrude replied. “Mother was a high school teacher before she married, and Father was graduated from the theological seminary with highest honors.”

Then, turning to the little one who was trying hard not to cry, she said kindly, “Bettykins, you may study with me, if you wish.”

“Oh, Gertrude, that would help me so much!” Betty replied gratefully, smiling through the tears that would come.

“Girls,” Adele declared brightly, “‘My bones are very good prophets,’ as Grandpa Dally used to say, and I just feel sure that before very many moons, we shall all seven of us be at Linden Hall Seminary for Young Ladies.”

Whether or no Adele was a true prophet, you shall hear.

CHAPTER SIX
BETTY’S UNCLE GEORGE

The next day Adele wrote a long letter to Carol Lorens telling her the good news that five of the Sunny Seven were to attend the Linden Hall boarding-school, that is, if there would be room for them. Mrs. Doring had written to Madame Deriby to inquire, and eagerly the five girls awaited an answering letter.

Meanwhile little Betty Burd was trying to be brave, but it was very hard. The day after the meeting at the Secret Sanctum, she went for a long ride on her pony, and, with tears slipping down her cheeks, she scolded herself: “You just ought to be ashamed, Betty Burd, when you have so much to be thankful for,” she said aloud as she rode through a little wood, where everything was peaceful and quiet, save now and then a rustle in the dry leaves when a squirrel darted across the path. “I’m not going to cry another tear!” she continued, as she whirled her pony’s head toward home. “Uncle George has done so much for me, and I don’t want him to even guess how I have longed to go to boarding-school with the other girls.”

As she turned in at the drive, Mr. Drexel’s car stopped a moment at the gate and her Uncle George leaped out. Betty was about to ride on, but he beckoned to her. “How’s my little Puss?” he called, pretending not to notice the reddened eyes.

“Oh, I’m all right, thank you, Uncle George,” the girl replied, trying to smile brightly, then, fearing that she would cry, she whirled her pony about and galloped to the barn, but her young Uncle George followed her.

He stabled the pony and then leading her to a garden bench, he exclaimed gaily, “Betty Bobbets, what’s this I hear about you going away to boarding-school?”

“Me?” gasped Betty in surprise. “Why, Uncle George, I’m not going at all. It’s just the other girls who are going. Mamma says that you have done so much for us already that she couldn’t think of asking you to send me. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, Uncle George, how did you know?”

The young man laughed. “Why, Puss,” he replied, “you don’t suppose that you could keep a secret from your old uncle, do you? But the way that I found out was that Mr. Drexel just now told me that Doris was going away to boarding-school and he said that he supposed that I was going to send Betty, and I said, ‘Sure thing, if the other girls are going.’”

“Oh, Uncle George!” Betty cried, scarcely able to believe what she had heard. “Really, truly, are you going to send me? Won’t it take a lot of money? Mother says that we cost you ever so much as it is.”

Taking both of her small hands in his, the young man replied earnestly, “Pet, your father was my older brother and he went without many things that he might send me away to college, and now that I am a prosperous editor, do you suppose that for one minute I am going to neglect the education of his only little girl, and my only little girl, too? Indeed I am not, and from now on I want you to think of me as though I were your own daddy. I will give you an allowance, but, if you need more money, promise me that you will write and ask for it.”

“Dear Uncle George,” Betty said as she looked up with a joyous light shining through the tears that would come, “how can I thank you?” Then, impulsively she threw her arms about his neck and gave him a bear hug.

The other girls were glad to hear that their youngest member could go, if they did, but as yet they had not received a letter from the matron of Linden Hall.

The following afternoon the seven girls met at Adele’s to review some of their studies. Of course it had been the practical Bertha’s suggestion.

“We don’t want to get behind,” she told them, “even if we are going to a boarding-school.”

“Girls,” Rosamond Wright declared, “I have my trunk almost packed and I’ll be ready to take the train the moment that Madame Deriby writes, ‘Come.’”

“But what if she writes, ‘Don’t come’?” Peggy Pierce inquired mischievously.

“Then I’ll unpack it again,” Rosamond declared quite undisturbed by the teasing, “but there isn’t much danger of the matron’s telling us not to come,” she added. “Why, we six girls will be a small fortune to her and she will take us even if she has to build an addition to the school.”

“Hurray! Here comes the postman,” Betty Burd exclaimed joyously. “Adele, what if he has the fatal letter?”

“Then I suppose that he will give it to me,” Adele replied merrily, as she went to the gate to meet Mr. Drakely. Then, turning around, with eyes shining, she triumphantly waved a white envelope. “Here it is,” she called to the eager group on the lawn, “but it is addressed to Mumsie, and she is down-town shopping and so we shall have to wait until she returns.”

“Oh-h-h!” came in doleful chorus.

“How can we wait?” Betty Burd moaned.

“It won’t be long, methinks,” Adele exclaimed, “for unless I am mistaken, I hear Mother’s step just beyond the lilacs.”

In another moment that gracious lady appeared and the girls swooped down upon her.

“Well! well!” Mrs. Doring exclaimed gaily. “Why am I so popular?”

“Oh, Mumsie,” Adele declared lovingly, “you know that you are always popular, but just now we want you to open this letter from Madame Deriby and tell us if we may go to the Linden Hall boarding-school.”

They led Mrs. Doring to a rustic bench and then crowded about her while she read aloud:

“My dear Mrs. Doring:

“Your letter of recent date was received and I am pleased to inform you that I have ample accommodations for the five young ladies.”

“Oh!” wailed Betty Burd. “That’s not counting me in.”

“Shh! Don’t interrupt,” some one whispered, and Mrs. Doring continued:

“In fact I have room for eight more girls, as a very pleasant wing has just been completed. There are four double rooms, light and airy, overlooking the gardens and the orchard.

“If they prefer, the young ladies may have their uniforms made here at Linden. Since the fall term is already started, it would be better for them to come without delay.

“If this is convenient for you, please wire and I will have the school bus at the station to meet the young ladies next Saturday at four in the afternoon.”

“There!” Rosamond announced. “See how wise I was to begin packing my trunk!”

“We will go to our homes this instant and pack ours,” Peggy Pierce declared, for the next day would be Saturday.

“Gertrude,” Adele said when the other girls were gone, “I would be perfectly happy if only you were going with us.”

“I, too, wish that I might go, Della,” Gertrude said, returning her friend’s embrace, “but a minister’s salary is not princely, and there are so many of us. It won’t be long till Christmas, however, and then you and I will meet again.”

But they were to meet much sooner than that, and in a way they little dreamed.

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DEPARTURE FOR BOARDING-SCHOOL

Never before had there been a gayer scene at the railway station in that usually quiet town of Sunnyside, for the relatives and friends of the six travelers were all there to bid them good-bye.

“Wall, I swan!” ejaculated the old station-master as he appeared from the baggage-room. “Has the hull population of this here village decided to migrate to Buffalo?”

“Oh, no, Uncle Danny,” Adele replied, shouting in his ear, for the old man, whom every one called Uncle Danny, was very deaf. “Just six of us are going away to boarding-school.”

“Wall, now, you don’t tell! Sorry to hear you’re a-leavin’ us, Della. Even cloudy weather seems a little brighter when you’re around.”

That was just what Granny Dorset had said when Adele had rushed over to the little cottage in Cherry Lane that morning to bid her good-bye. “Don’t study too hard,” Jack Doring called. “We boys would hate to have you get ahead of us.”

“If you have any parties up at your school, send us an invitation,” Bob Angel added.

“Oh, Bob!” Rosamond Wright gaily replied. “You know that you wouldn’t come all the way to a suburb of Buffalo just to attend a boarding-school party.”

“Slippery snails!” Jack suddenly exclaimed. “Dick Jensen, did you forget the order you received last night?”

Dick, a good-looking boy of fifteen, snapped his fingers and whirling on his heels, he ran to his car and returned with a big covered box, out of which he took seven smaller boxes daintily tied with blue and gold ribbons. Presenting one to each of the girls, Dick exclaimed dramatically: “From the unsurpassable Jensen candy shop, gift of the Jolly Pirates to the seven sweetest girls in all the world.”

“Oh, thank you, boys!” Adele cried with glowing eyes. “We will think of you every time that we eat one of these delicious candies.”

“You won’t think of us for long then,” Bob teased, “not if you all eat candy as fast as Rosie does.”

“Here comes the train that is to carry our fair ones away!” Jack shouted. Then, what a scurrying there was. The boys seized satchels and suit-cases and the girls threw their arms around their mothers and fathers for a last embrace, in the excitement of the moment not realizing how much they were going to miss them later. Then the boys escorted them into the train, found their seats, piled their luggage in the racks overhead, and Bob teasingly told them to be sure to get off when they reached their destination. The train started, and the boys made a wild rush for the door and swung to the platform just in time to keep from being borne away.

Adele looked out of the window at her mother, who stood with her arm about Gertrude’s waist. The tears rushed to her eyes. It was hard to leave these two who were so dear to her, but it would not be long before the Christmas holidays, and then they would all be together again.

Blinking back the tears, she turned with her bright smile toward the merry girls who were chatting and laughing all together.

“I do hope we are going to have some interesting adventures at Linden Hall,” Rosamond was saying.

They were to have many adventures and the first one began the very next day.

CHAPTER EIGHT
APPLE-BLOSSOM ALLEY

That Saturday afternoon Carol Lorens and Evelyn Dartmoor were sauntering arm in arm through the garden paths on the south side of the Linden Hall boarding-school, little dreaming of the delightful something which was just about to happen.

Soon a small girl appeared running toward them, calling, “Carol Lorens, here is a letter for you. Madame Deriby asked me to give it to you at once because there is something interesting in it.”

At Linden Hall, as at many other boarding-schools, the matron glanced over each letter which the girls received.

“Oh, I wonder what the exciting news can be,” Carol said as she went forward to take the letter from the wee lassie. “Thank you, little Anne,” she added. Then, when the small girl had skipped away to rejoin her playmates, Carol exclaimed, “Evelyn, there is just one thing that I wish this letter might contain.”

The older girl smiled. Since Carol’s coming to the school, Evelyn had learned to smile again. “Suppose you read it,” she wisely suggested, “and then you will know what it is about.”

“Let’s sit here on this bench and I’ll read it to you,” Carol declared. When they were seated, she opened the missive and turned at once to the end to see who it was from.

“Oh, good!” she said. “Just as I wished, it is from Adele Doring. Now I’ll begin at the beginning:

“‘Dear Carol: We have the best news to tell you. We girls are coming to Linden Hall and expect to arrive on Saturday afternoon at about four o’clock.

“‘We are all coming except Gertrude Willis, but I feel in my bones that something will happen to bring her, too, some day soon. I won’t write any more, for we shall reach Linden almost as soon as this letter.

“‘Give our love to Evelyn Dartmoor, for if she will let us, we mean to love her, too. From what you have written, I know that she must be just ever so nice. Good-bye for now.

“‘Adele Doring and the Sunny Six.’”

Carol sprang to her feet as she exclaimed excitedly, “Why, to-day is Saturday, and it is half-past four now.”