Dorothy's Tour. Raymond Evelyn
Alfy told her how she heard the tapping on the door of the closet.
“Come, we’ll all go back and see,” said Ma Babcock, and with that they all started for the barn, Alfy limping after ma and Matthew.
When they reached the upstairs room they tip-toed to the closet and listened, and after waiting a few minutes and hearing nothing, ma called loudly, “Is anyone in there?” No answer came. Then she quickly flung open the closet door, and what did they hear but the flutter, flutter of wings, and then they saw, perched high on the lintel of the door, a little wood-pecker.
“There,” said Ma Babcock, “there is what made those tap-taps, a wood-pecker. Just as if I didn’t know there couldn’t be any ghosts. And a great big girl like you, Alfaretta, being scared of a little bird.”
With that they all breathed a sigh of relief, and Matthew and ma went down out of the barn, leaving Alfaretta to look over the contents of the well packed closet, to find, if possible, her raincoat.
“My, my, just think what a lot I shall have to tell Dorothy. I wonder what she will say. Just a bird. Shucks. I thought it was a real ghost. But ma says there are no really real ghosts. But, well, I don’t know.”
All this time Alfy had been opening boxes and shutting them, putting them back where she had found them, when suddenly she came across an old sampler about a foot square. Alfy looked at it, then brought it to the lamp and could see lots of new and hard stitches she had never learned. She didn’t see how anyone could sew them at all. And, my – what was that in the corner? A name. “Well,” thought Alfy, “here is a find. Maybe I can beg it off ma, and then I can take it to Dorothy.”
She had almost forgotten her raincoat, when she went back to the closet and looked in the box again to see if there was anything else new there, and then discovered her precious raincoat in the bottom of the big box. Hastily closing the box and shoving things back in the closet, with her raincoat and the queer old sampler, Alfy ran hurriedly downstairs and through the yard and into the kitchen.
Ma Babcock had by this time prepared dinner and just as Alfy came in she called all the children to the dinner table.
“Ma,” exclaimed Alfy, “I found my raincoat, and this, too. What is it?”
“Let me see.” “Let me see.” “And me,” chimed in all the little Babcocks, trying to get possession of what Alfy was holding.
“Be quiet,” said ma, sternly. “Give it to me, Alfy.” Alfy handed her the sampler and Ma Babcock exclaimed: “Poor Hannah! Poor Hannah!”
“What Hannah? And was she very poor – poorer than we?” lisped little Luke, the youngest of the Babcocks.
“Ma, who did you say?” demanded Alfaretta.
“Why, Alfy, this is a sampler made by one of my little playmates years and years ago. A delicate little girl was Hannah Woodrow. She came up here summering, and then ’cause she was broken in health stayed all one year with me. She could sew so very well. She made that sampler and left it with me when the folks did take her back to Baltimore with them. She married – deary me – maybe she married some one named – Haley, I think. That’s what it was; and I ain’t heard from her since.”
“Ma, can I have the sampler?” asked Alfy. “I would like to take it to Baltimore to show Dorothy.”
“Well, I s’pose I must say yes, if you want to show it to Dorothy Calvert, and ’pears to me Mrs. Calvert might like to see it, too,” remarked ma. “But come now, dinner is getting cold and you must get to bed early, Alfaretta, if you want to catch that early train for Baltimore, and like as not you’ve fooled your time away and haven’t packed a single thing.”
But Alfy showed her mother she had been very busy and had all her things ready to start. So she went off gladly to bed, dreaming that all was ready and that she had departed for Dorothy, which, indeed, the next morning was a reality.
CHAPTER III.
THE PREPARATIONS
“You dear, dear Alfy,” piped Dorothy, joyously as she ran to meet Alfy, whom Metty had just brought up from the station to the house.
“Oh, Dorothy, I am so glad to see you,” rejoined Alfy with none the less joy than Dorothy had displayed. “I just must kiss you again.”
“Did you have an uneventful trip?” asked Dorothy, drawing her friend into the house.
“Just simply took train and arrived, that was all.”
“Metty, you see that Alfy’s things are taken up to the blue room.”
Then turning to Alfaretta again, “Aunt Betty is upstairs in the sewing room. We shall go straight to her. I believe she is just longing to get a sight of you again, just as much as I was when I wrote you.”
“Oh, Mrs. Calvert, I am so glad to see you again – Aunt Betty,” said Alfy, going over to Aunt Betty’s chair and putting both arms around her and kissing her several times.
“Why, Jim, I do declare. You here, too? Dorothy didn’t say you were here in her letter.” Alfy then went to the doorway where Jim was standing and gave him a hard hug.
“Oh, it’s just like the old times.” Jim blushed a rosy red and said awkwardly, “I’m so glad to see you, Alfy. It’s been more than a year since you have seen me, isn’t it?”
Jim decidedly disliked to be fussed over, and although he had known Alfy all his life just as he had Dorothy, he always felt confused and ill at ease when either of the girls kissed him or embraced him in any way. Now all the other boys, so Gerald often told him, would only be too glad to stand in his shoes.
“Come, Alfy,” said Dorothy, leading Alfaretta upstairs one more flight. “Here is your room. And see, here are all your things. Now hurry and clear up, and put your things where they belong. When you have finished, come down to the sewing room and we will talk as we work.”
“I’ll be there in less than no time,” called Alfy.
Dorothy then went back to the sewing room and picked up her sewing. There she and Aunt Betty worked till Alfy put in an appearance.
“See, I have my needles, thimble, thread and all, all in this little apron pocket. And this apron will save me lots of time, for when I’m through sewing all I have to do is take the apron off and shake the threads into the waste basket and not have to spend most half an hour picking threads off my dress,” said practical Alfy.
“Well, Alfy,” said Mrs. Calvert, “that is surely a very good idea. What can I give you to sew? We must all be kept busy, and then Dorothy will tell you her plans. Maybe you could baste up the seams of this skirt,” handing the skirt to Alfaretta, who immediately began to sew up the seams.
Dorothy then unburdened herself of the good news and told Alfy how Mr. Ludlow, her manager, had written for her to be in New York on Tuesday, the 27th, and be ready to play at a concert on Thursday, and shortly after to start on her trip. Then, best of all, how besides a very liberal salary, she could have accompanying her, with all charges paid, her dear Aunt Betty and a companion. Would Alfy be the companion?
Alfaretta was astonished and delighted, and her joy knew no bounds. She felt sure Ma Babcock would allow her to go. Such wonderful vistas of happiness the plan suggested, it was long before the subject was exhausted.
Aunt Betty then told Alfaretta that she and Dorothy were making some simple little dresses for Dorothy’s use while away.
“But, Aunt Betty,” asked Alfy, “what are you going to wear?”
“Why, Alfy,” replied Aunt Betty. “I have ordered a black serge suit for traveling, and some neat white waists. Then I am having Mrs. Lenox, Frau Deichenberg’s dressmaker, make me a couple of fancy dresses, too, both of them black, but one trimmed more than the other.”
“And Alfy, Mrs. Lenox is making me a couple of dresses, too. One pink one for the very best, and one white one for the next best. These I shall have to wear at some of the concerts,” added Dorothy.
“I