Lucile Triumphant. Elizabeth M. Duffield
her.”
“And leave us home?” Evelyn interrupted.
“Exactly,” said Lucile, firmly. “As I said before, I’ll go to meet her and bring her here. Then I’ll take her upstairs to get her things off and tell her you girls will be here right away.”
“And we’re to be hidden in some other room, I suppose,” Marjorie ventured.
“Uh-huh. Then I’ll get her down into the living-room and make her comfortable in front of the fire——”
“Let us hope it’s a cool day,” Margaret interjected.
“We’ll hope so,” agreed Lucile. “We will have plenty of cool days yet, anyway, before spring sets in in earnest, 29 and maybe the day after to-morrow will be one of them. I’ll get her to sit there, even if it is warm.”
“What then, Lucile?” asked one of the girls. “I have a feeling that the most interesting part is yet to come.”
“It is,” said Lucile. “You see, I’ll be talking to her so hard that she won’t notice what’s going on around her much—that is, if you are careful. Then you come in, one by one, on your tip-toes and sit in a semicircle behind her.”
“Oh, that will be a lark,” cried Evelyn. “And are we to wait till she finds us out?”
“That’s what I was going to tell you,” said Lucile. “When you all get settled, I’ll put my hand up to my hair like this, and then you begin to sing, very softly, ‘Oh, fire——’ ”
“That will be splendid, Lucy; it will seem almost like old times,” cried Margaret. “How did you manage to think it all out so beautifully?”
“Oh, it was simple enough,” said Lucile. “The only thing is, do you all like it?”
Lucile was very well satisfied with the reception of her plan a moment later. The girls were enthusiastic and overwhelmed her with questions until she was obliged for the second time that morning, to say, “One at a time, please.”
When, finally, all the arrangements were complete and satisfactory, one of the girls discovered it was after noon.
“Girls,” exclaimed Evelyn, dismayed, “we’ve used up the whole morning just talking.”
“Why, what time is it?” asked Margaret, feeling for her watch.
“It’s twelve fifteen,” announced Evelyn, impressively.
“Time I was going home,” Marjorie declared, jumping up. “Where’s my hat?”
“It’s inside with Evelyn’s,” Lucile answered. “If I hadn’t taken care of them there would have been nothing 30 left resembling a hat. I’ll get them,” she added, and ran into the house.
In a moment she returned with a hat in each hand.
“What did you want to wear them for, anyway?” she said, as they started off. “You didn’t really need them, and just think of all the work you made me.”
“Oh, they just wanted to show them off,” laughed Gertrude Church.
“Humph, we know why they pretend to criticize us, don’t we Marjorie?” queried Evelyn, with a knowing wink.
“Sure; they’re jealous,” was the laconic reply, at which all the girls laughed scornfully.
“We’d have to have something better than that to be jealous of,” scoffed one.
“Then we’ll see you Monday, Lucy,” called Jessie, as they started off down the street. “Maybe before,” she added.
“I can stand it,” laughed Lucile. “Come early Monday, anyway, all of you, and don’t forget what I told you.”
“We won’t,” they called; “don’t worry!” And, indeed, she had no need for anxiety, for the thought that filled the girls’ minds to the exclusion of everything else was:
“Our guardian is coming Monday—oh, why is it so far away?”
31
CHAPTER V
AS THOUGH ON WINGS
The eventful day had come at last over a wait that seemed an eternity to the impatient girls. The long school-day was endless and, in spite of all good resolutions, they could not keep their thoughts from wandering to the alluring picture they had conjured up. A picture wherein figured an open-grate fire, Miss Howland—for so they had thought of her even after her marriage—their own dear guardian, turning suddenly to see her camp-fire girls in their old familiar costume waiting to welcome her. How would she look? What would she say? These were the thoughts that persisted in haunting them through the long school-day and refused to be shaken off.
At last it was three o’clock and the girls gathered on the campus, books in hand, eagerly anxious to be off.
“Are we all here?” said Jessie, looking about.
“All but Grace; she’ll be here any minute, I guess.”
The prophecy proved correct, and soon the whole of camp-fire Aloea, except the one who was to play the most important part, was swinging at a great rate down the road to their meeting-place. Lucile had been excused a few minutes earlier on the plea that she was to meet her guardian. The few minutes’ grace would give her time to see that the fire was lighted and attend to the hundred and one minor details that would set things running smoothly.
Rain had been threatening all day, but now the welcome sun burst through the clouds so suddenly that the girls were surprised.
“Say, that came in a hurry, didn’t it?” remarked Marjorie. “Oh, I’m so glad.” 32
“Who isn’t?” Jessie rejoined. “The rain would have made everything so gloomy, just when we wanted it brightest.”
“It seems as if the sun knew Miss Howland was coming and just couldn’t help shining,” said Margaret, with a face so like the sun itself in its radiant brightness that Marjorie, who was near her, threw her arm about the slight form, saying, lovingly, “Even if the sun hadn’t come out, Margaret, I don’t think we’d have missed it much with you around.”
“Don’t you remember what Miss Howland always used to say about there being a great deal more credit in being happy and sunny on a gloomy day than a bright one?” put in Eleanor.
“Yes; but, though I’ve tried very hard to look cheerful when the rain has spoiled all my chances for a good time, I’m very much afraid I don’t often succeed,” said Evelyn, with a rueful smile.
“I can’t imagine you in the doleful dumps for very long, Evelyn,” said Ruth. “I’ve never seen you anything but happy yet.”
“Oh, you don’t have to live with her, Ruth,” said Jessie. “If you did, and I’m glad for your sake you don’t, you would soon change your opinion.”
“I’d like to know what you know about it, anyway,” Evelyn retorted, gaily. “You’ve never lived with me—that I know of, at any rate.”
“To change the subject,” Marjorie broke in, “there’s Lucile waving to us to hurry. I guess she has something to tell us before she goes to the station.”
They broke into a run and in another minute had surrounded Lucile.
“I’m glad you came just as you did,”