The Girl Scouts at Rocky Ledge Part 7

Young and simple minded as was Nora, she was fully conscious of a difference of opinions regarding her management. Jerry was surely siding with her, even in her whims, whereas Ted, mother-like, felt the necessity of giving advice.

That was it. She had never before known anything the least bit mother-like. Would she find the relations.h.i.+p too irksome?

There was the hint of a tear in her blinking eye when she pulled the kinky tape out for Jerry and felt it snap back into its leather case.

After all, things were not exactly as she had pictured them at the Nest.

First, she was dragged down from her attic--she felt now she had been dragged down in the very middle of the night by that great, big Vita, and now, there were those horrid Girl Scouts being held up as examples for her to follow and imitate. Well, she would never be a Scout. Each time the question presented itself she felt more decidedly against it.

She would always have big Cousin Jerry to stand by her, and if Cousin Ted----

"Want to come to town with me, dear?" called the owner of the name she was opposing.

"Sure she does. She is going to ride Cyclone. Aren't you, Bobbs?" This was from Jerry.

"I couldn't ride a big horse," faltered the confused girl.

"We will go in our handsome ca--our little tame flivver," interrupted Ted. "When you want to ride a horse you will have plenty of time to practice." Mrs. Manton had a.s.sembled her tools. Nora marvelled at the strong hands that could so skillfully wield the sharp hatchet and the dangerous-looking tr.i.m.m.i.n.g knife. Into the loop at her belt Ted carelessly slipped the glittering tools, and as she did so Nora recalled the sight of the dainty hands she had been accustomed to admiring. What would the ladies who visited the school say to a person like Cousin Ted?

They were ready to leave for the cottage. Over the hill the Girl Scouts were calling their mysterious "Wha-hoo," and to Nora it sounded like a call to battle. What had at first been merely an indifference was now a.s.suming the proportions of actual dislike. How was Nora to know she was a very much spoiled little girl? And how was she to guess what the cost of her change of heart would mean to her?

She was a total stranger to the word "sn.o.b." Her training had been one straight line of avoiding this, that, and the other thing; but as for doing this, that and everything, no place was given in the curriculum.

Mrs. Manton, herself a product of the most modern college, knew the weakness of little Nora's character at a glance, but to introduce strength and purpose! To bend the vine without crus.h.i.+ng the tendrils!

This very first day was marked with a danger signal. If Nora slighted the Scouts, they who came almost daily to Ted for information and companions.h.i.+p, there was sure to be trouble. It was this surety that prompted Ted to say with decision:

"The sooner Nora gets acquainted the happier she will be."

Meanwhile the girls of Chickadee Patrol had all but forgotten about the stranger. They were after specimens and had discovered more than one new bird's nest. Cameras were clicking, notes being taken, and so many interesting matters were being attended to, it was not strange that the sight of one little girl in a pretty blue frock, with a disdainful expression on her otherwise attractive face, might have been forgotten for the time.

If there were really fairies in those woods they should have intervened just then, for it would have been so much easier for Nora to have met the Scouts as companions, whereas she, holding away from the very idea of organization, kept building up a dislike which threatened to cause her much unhappiness.

The woodlands were broad enough for both to roam, but it was inevitable that both should meet some day, and, under what circ.u.mstances?

CHAPTER VI

A PRINCE IN HIDING

When Nora wrote to Barbara she drew word pictures of the beauties at Woodland Wilds. She shed a tear of real joy when writing about Cousin Jerry and Captain, and when she fondly recited the virtues of Cousin Ted she felt she put more in that one word "Motherly" than could otherwise have been conveyed.

It was in the writing of that letter that she took account of her actual self, for in wording it she had naturally summed up.

"I am not just sure whether I entirely suit or not," she told Barbara.

"Sometimes I feel so different. Of course they all love me, even Vita the cook, and I love them fondly, but don't you know, Babs, you always told me I saw 'foohey' and you would not explain what it was to be that way? But I guess I am, whatever it is, for a lot of alterations have already been ordered," she wrote.

"My new outdoor clothes have arrived," the letter ran, "they are of brown cloth" (she avoided the use of the word khaki) "and they will stand a lot of hard wear. Cousin Jerry says we get them that color and so we won't scare the birds and other woodland creatures. They are supposed to think we are part of the landscape."

Nora then told of the attic, and its chest of treasures, and added she expected to try on a couple of outfits the very first day she was free from accompanying the surveying party.

All of which showed the visitor was "taking root," as Jerry would have said.

A long tramp out in a marshy territory was to be undertaken by the two veterans, Ted and Jerry, but because of the bad footing Nora was not asked to go along. This provided the very opportunity Nora had been waiting for, and hardly had the reliable old flivver "fluvved" away, then she hurried up to the attic in search of a costume.

"Come on, Cap," she whispered, eluding Vita, but unwilling to go up in the attic alone. She had not forgotten the suspicions of her first night.

Too glad to obey, Cap led the way, and presently Nora forgot even the "spook cabinet" in her interest over the open costume chest.

Things were mussed and musty, rumpled and wrinkled and crinkled; but what colors and what a lot of bright tinsel!

"Oh joy," she exclaimed, dragging from the tangles a real Fauntleroy costume. "I have always wanted to see how I would look dressed in this sort of outfit," she thought, for the black velvet "knickers," the little velvet jacket, and the lace blouse were all there, and yes, there was a wonderful, bright silk scarf to go around the waist.

The cap was prettiest of all, and it was resting on Nora's yellow curls before Cap could possibly make out what the whole proceedings meant. He stood over in his corner and blinked, but Nora insisted on having his opinion.

"Isn't it wonderful, Cap? And don't you like Nora in it?" she demanded.

He gave one of his peculiar exclamations rather louder than she had expected, and to prevent the sounds from reaching Vita's ears, Nora put both arms around Cap's neck and hugged him into silence.

She was very much excited. Ever since her arrival at the Nest she had been planning a private masquerade, and now the time had come for her to indulge in it.

Fanciful dream child that she was, the character of little Lord Fauntleroy had always strongly appealed to her, and as for most girls the boy's costume had a peculiar charm for her heroic ventures into the world of make-believe.

"We'll take them down stairs," she told Cap. "We can dress much more comfortably in my room."

Poking her head out to make sure Vita was not around, she tucked the velvets and laces into her arms and hurried to the next floor. Seldom had she locked the hall door, but she did so now, dismissing Cap peremptorily, for there was no need of his protection on the second floor.

"I suppose it's too big," she reasoned, when the little knickers were pulled up as high as the b.u.t.ton and b.u.t.ton hole line. Yes, it was big, this costume had been worn by a gay lady at a big country club dance, and little Nora was scarcely a sample of the personality for which the jaunty outfit had been created.

But mere size did not worry her. It was effect that she craved. The lacy blouse fell into place quite naturally, and it did look boyish, while the overblouse of black velvet completed the Fauntleroy picture.

"If the buckles would only stay buckled," she sighed, trying for the third time to fasten the knee straps and keep them that way. It was not pretty at all to have them slink down below her knees, like an untidy schoolboy; and a pin had no possible effect on the heavy, velvety finish.

"I know," breathed Nora, "I'll roll them." And she did that skillfully; for in the season just past many and many a sock had she rolled and they had stayed, although Barbara never could acquire the same knack.

It was all finally finished, and she inspected herself in the mirror, slanted to the very last angle to show the full length. A pat of the cap, a brash of the tie and a swish of the flying scarf gave the finis.h.i.+ng touches.

Really Nora made "a perfectly stunning" little Lord Fauntleroy. Had she been more accustomed to the sayings of the day she might well have exclaimed, "All dressed up and no place to go," but her culture admitted of no such expressive parlance. Instead, she asked herself in the looking gla.s.s: "Wonder if I dare go outside? It is so comfortable to wear this style"; and she skipped around as every other girl on earth has ever done the very moment she felt relieved of the trammel of skirts.

The morning was unusually quiet. Vita must be away picking greens, the surveyors were miles out, and there was no one but Cap to criticise. Why shouldn't she stroll out grandly in her princely costume?

She did. The birds twittered and the rabbits scurried and the pet squirrel stood up and begged. But Nora was not feeding the animals this morning, instead, she flounced her lace sleeve in a most courtly gesture and pa.s.sed on to the cedar tree grove. Cedars seemed more appropriate for velvets than did the other wild trees; besides, no underbrush grew in the cedar grove, and it was much safer for costly finery.

On the rustic seat Nora felt exactly as she had felt the day Miss Baily took her to sit for her picture, except that she crossed her legs comfortably now, whereas, then, she was not even allowed to cross her hands.

Presently the actress removed her (his) cap and poised it on the arm of the chair. Did Lord Fauntleroy go out in his grounds alone? Perhaps she should have called Cap to go along.

Then came thoughts of Nannie. Why must she, little Nora, always be so far away from that pretty mother? And why did the picture life--the make-believe--charm her like some secret failing? Did other girls really like the horrid brown uniforms never pictured in books, that is, never, until very lately? So raced her unruly thoughts.