Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains Part 2

"Would you dare to give Mr. Cunningham some bluebells for his b.u.t.tonhole?" said Nancy. "I'd like to, but _I_ wouldn't dare."

"I don't know," Dorothy said. "I'd like to, too, and he 'most always has a rosebud, but sometimes he doesn't. When we get back, if he's on the piazza, and hasn't a bud in his b.u.t.tonhole, I'll try to dare to offer him some of these blossoms."

Dear little Dorothy! She wondered if she would be rewarded with a frown!

Floretta and her mother were not there, neither was Mrs. Dayne, but in a shady corner sat Mr. Cunningham.

Nancy ran in to take her flowers to Aunt Charlotte and Mrs. Hermanton.

Dorothy hesitated. She would have been even more timid, had she known how recently he had been offended.

He looked up from his book, frowned, then smiled and nodded pleasantly.

He had thought that Floretta had returned, and was pleasantly surprised to see Dorothy, instead.

Softly she crossed the piazza until she stood beside him.

"May I give you a few of these bluebells for your b.u.t.tonhole?" she said.

"They're only wild flowers, but they're pretty ones," she added, fearing that, after all, he might not care for them.

"Why, thank you, my dear. I surely would like them, especially as they are offered me by a real little lady."

He placed the cl.u.s.ter that she offered him in his lapel, as he spoke, and looked to Dorothy for approval.

"They are wild flowers, truly," he said, "but I think they are quite as attractive as the buds I have been wearing," and Dorothy was glad that she had offered them.

CHAPTER II

A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE

THREE weeks had pa.s.sed, and as nearly every day had been fair, the guests at the Cleverton had lived out of doors, appearing at the hotel at meal-time, and at night.

Other wild flowers beside the bluebells were blossoming gaily, peeping up from the gra.s.s as if offering a welcome to all who looked at them; and even great rocks and ledges held tiny blossoming plants in their crevices.

The pony, Romeo, had come to the mountains with the family, and seemed to enjoy the outing.

Every morning Dorothy and Nancy went for a drive, and Romeo tossed his mane, and pranced as if to show his delight.

One morning the pony was standing at the porch, waiting for his little mistress, who soon came running down the stairs.

Floretta was standing in the hall, spinning a top.

A sign on the wall plainly stated that children must not play in the hall, but that did not disturb Floretta.

Deftly she wound the string, and the great top fell to the floor, where it hummed and spun as rapidly as if a boy's hand had flung it.

She picked it up, and again wound it, this time throwing it with even greater force.

"Look! Look!" she cried. "I b'lieve it spins faster every time I throw it!"

Dorothy looked over the bal.u.s.ter at the humming top, but said nothing.

She knew that Floretta had seen the notice; indeed a number of the children had stood in the hall when it had been tacked up.

Looking up at Dorothy, Floretta noticed the whip in her hand.

"Riding?" she asked.

"Yes, for a little while," said Dorothy. "It's a lovely morning, and I mean to see how quickly Romeo will take me to the 'Spring.'"

"I wouldn't care to ride horseback," said Floretta, rudely.

"You won't care to spin tops in this hall if Matson catches you," cried a shrill voice, from an upper hall.

"Pooh! I'm not afraid of Matson," Floretta said, boldly, looking up at the boy who had tried to frighten her.

"Oh, aren't you?" said the boy in a teasing voice. "Well, he manages this hotel, and he'll _make_ you stop if he catches you!"

"You stop, Jack Tiverton!" cried Floretta.

"You'll be the one to stop!" said Jack, with a loud laugh.

Dorothy crossed the hall, stepping around Floretta, who stood exactly in the way.

Looking back, she saw Floretta show the tip of her tongue to Jack, while Jack, not to be outdone, made a most outrageous face.

"I wish they weren't so horrid!" Dorothy said to herself, as she left the hall.

Having mounted Romeo, with the groom's aid, she rode off down the lovely, shady road, the man on his horse, following at a respectful distance.

She touched the pony lightly with her whip, and he responded by breaking into a gentle gallop.

Dorothy's bright curls flew back from her flushed face, and she laughed as she flew over the road.

The groom watched her admiringly, and marvelled that so small a girl could be such a perfect little equestrienne.

The ride had brightened her eyes, and she always looked smaller than she really was when mounted upon Romeo.

He was a handsome animal, with flowing mane and tail, and the groom spoke truthfully when he muttered:

"Them two makes a high-bred pair. Miss Dorothy is a girl 'ristycrat, an'

the little hoss is a hoss 'ristycrat, if ever there was one."

The groom had been in the service of the Dainty family but a few months, but in that time he had become devoted to the little daughter of the house. All the servants loved Dorothy, and were almost as fond of Nancy Ferris.