.
stood wickedly enjoying their discomfiture, and was at last rewarded by hearing Luella say: “Well, I guess I’ve said all I want to say, anyway; so you needn’t ring them up again. I’ve got to go out boating now.” The receiver at the shore clicked into place, and the connection was cut off.
Then the young man hung up the receiver at the Midvale end of the line, and sat down to think. Bit by bit he pieced together the story until he had very nearly made out the true state of affairs. So they were ashamed of him, and were trying to get away. Could it be possible that they had been the people that got on the train as he got off? Was that girl with the loud voice and the pongee suit his cousin? The voice over the telephone seemed like the one that had called to the girl in the pony-cart. And had his eyes deceived him, or were there three plates on the breakfast-table that morning? Poor Aunt Crete! He would give her the best time he knew how, and perhaps it was also set for him to give his cousin a lesson.
CHAPTER III
A WONDERFUL DAY
Aunt Crete woke up at last from an uncomfortable dream. She thought Carrie and Luella had come back, and were about to snatch Donald away from her and bear him off to the shore.
She arose in haste and smoothed her hair, astonished at the freshness of her own face in the glass. She was afraid she had overslept and lost some of the precious time with Donald. There was so much to ask him, and he was so good to look at. She hurried down and was received warmly. Donald’s meditations had culminated in a plan.
“Sit down, Aunt Crete; are you sure you are rested? Then I want to talk. Suppose we run down to the shore and surprise the folks. How soon could you be ready?”
“O dear heart! I couldn’t do that!” exclaimed Aunt Crete, her face nevertheless alight with pleasure at the very thought.
“Why not? What’s to hinder?”
“O, I never go. I always stay at home and attend to things.”
“But that’s no reason. Why couldn’t things attend to themselves?”
“Why, I couldn’t leave the house alone.”
“Now, what in the world could possibly happen to the house that you could prevent by staying in it? Be reasonable, dear aunt. You know the house won’t run away while you are gone, and, if it does, I’ll get you another one. You don’t mean to tell me you never go off on a vacation. Then it’s high time you went, and you’ll have to stay the longer to make up for lost time. Besides, I want your company. I’ve never seen the Eastern coast, and expect to enjoy it hugely; but I need somebody to enjoy it with me. I can’t half take things in alone. I want somebody my very own to go with me. That’s what I came here for. I had thought of inviting you all to go down for a little trip; but, as the others are down there, why, we can join them.”
Aunt Crete’s face clouded. What would Luella say at having them appear on her horizon? The young man was all right, apparently, but there was no telling how angry Luella might be if her aunt came. She knew that Luella preferred to keep her in the background.
“I really couldn’t go, dear,” she said wistfully. “I’d like it with all my heart. And it would be specially nice to go with you, for I never had anybody to go round with me, not since your mother was a girl and used to take me with her wherever she went. I missed her dreadfully after she was married and went West. She was always so good to me.”
The young man’s face softened, and he reached his hand impulsively across the table, and grasped the toil-worn hand of his aunt.
“Well, you shall have somebody to go round with you now, auntie; that is, if you’ll let me. I’m not going to take ‘No’ for an answer. You just must go. We’ll have a vacation all by ourselves, and do just as we please, and we’ll bring up at the hotel where Aunt Carrie and Luella are, and surprise them.”
“But, child, I can’t!” said Aunt Crete in dismay, seeing his determination. “Why, I haven’t any clothes suitable to wear away from home. We were all so busy getting Luella fixed out that there wasn’t any time left for mine, and it didn’t really matter about me anyway. I never go anywhere.”
“But you’re going now, Aunt Lucretia,” said he; “and it does matter, you see. Clothes are easily bought. We’ll go shopping after breakfast to-morrow morning.”
“But I really can’t afford it, Donald,” said his aunt with an air of finality. “You know I’m not rich. If Carrie weren’t good enough to give me a home here, I shouldn’t know how to make two ends meet.”
“Never mind that, Aunt Crete; this is my layout, and I’m paying for it. We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning. I’ve got some money in my pocket I’m just aching to spend. The fact is, Aunt Crete, I struck gold up there in the Klondike, and I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.”
“O!” said Aunt Crete with awe in her voice at the thought of having more money than one knew what to do with. Then shyly, “But——”
“But what, Aunt Lucretia?” asked Donald as she hesitated and flushed till the double V came into her forehead in the old helpless, worried way.
“Why, there’s lots of canning and house-cleaning that has got to be done, and I don’t really think Carrie would like it to have me leave it all, and run away on a pleasure excursion.”
Righteous indignation filled the heart of the nephew. “Well, I should like to know why she wouldn’t like it!” he exclaimed impulsively. “Has she any better right to have a vacation than you? I’m sure you’ve earned it. You blessed little woman, you’re going to have a vacation now, in spite of yourself. Just put your conscience away in pink cotton till we get back—though I don’t know whether I shall let you come back to stay. I may spirit you off with me somewhere if I don’t like the looks of my cousin. I’ll take all the responsibility of this trip. If Aunt Carrie doesn’t like it, she may visit her wrath on me, and I’ll tell her just what I think of her. Anyhow, to the shore you are going right speedily; that is, if you want to go. If there’s some other place you’d rather go besides to the Traymore, speak the word, and there we’ll go. I want you to have a good time.”
Aunt Crete gasped with joy. The thought of the ocean, the real ocean, was wonderful. She had dreamed of it many times, but never had seen it, because she was always the one who could just as well stay at home as not. She never got run down or nervous or cross, and was ordered to go away for her health; and she never insisted upon going when the rest went. Her heart was bounding as it had not bounded since the morning of the last Sunday-school picnic she had attended when she was a girl.
“Indeed, dear boy, I do want to go with all my heart if I really ought. I have always wanted to see the ocean, and I can’t imagine any place I’d rather go than the Traymore, Luella’s talked so much about it.”
“All right. Then it’s settled that we go. How soon can we get ready? We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning bright and early, and get a trunkful of new clothes. It’s always nice to have new things when you go off; you feel like another person, and don’t have to be sewing on buttons all the time,” laughed Donald, as if he was enjoying the whole thing as much as his aunt. “I meant to have a good time getting presents for the whole family; but, as they aren’t here, I’m going to get them all for you. You’re not to say a word. Have you got a trunk?”
“Trunk? No, child. I haven’t ever had any need for a trunk. The time I went to Uncle Hiram’s funeral I took Carrie’s old haircloth one, but I don’t know’s that’s fit to travel again. Carrie’s got her flannels packed away in camphor in it now, and I shouldn’t like to disturb it.”
“Then we’ll get a trunk.”
“O, no,” protested Aunt Crete; “that would be a foolish expense. There’s some pasteboard boxes up-stairs. I can make