Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains Part 3

The young groom had heard Nancy's story, and he felt a deep interest in the little girl, who once had been a waif.

Now, his pleasant face wore a smile as he followed Dorothy, and saw how firmly the little figure stuck to the saddle, and rode as if girl and pony were one and inseparable.

They reached the "Spring," a spot whose beauty drew all travellers to it, and artists lingered there to paint, and thus perpetuate its charm.

Romeo looked down at the clear stream that reflected his figure so perfectly.

"He wants a drink," said Dorothy; "lead him to a good place, Thomas, please."

He helped her to dismount, and then led the pony to a shady spot where he could drink, and enjoy the cool, clear water.

Dorothy at once commenced to gather some of the lovely wild flowers that grew near the water's edge, but farther up the stream.

"These are different from any that I've ever found here," she thought.

Her hands were nearly filled with the lovely blossoms, and she was reaching out to grasp an especially pretty one, when a strangely familiar voice, just behind her, said:

"I think I see some one I've _often_ seen before!"

Dorothy turned, and a little cry of surprise and pleasure escaped her lips.

There were Mrs. Barnet and dear little Flossie coming toward her, while very near her was the owner of the voice, Flossie's handsome, merry-hearted Uncle Harry! Just behind him was his lovely young wife, and the baby in charge of a maid.

"Oh, I _am_ glad, _so_ glad to see you!" cried Dorothy. "And Flossie Barnet, did you know you were coming up here, when I said 'good-by' to you and Molly Merton at Merrivale?"

"I didn't know _surely_, but I _almost_ knew," Flossie admitted, "but Uncle Harry said, 'Don't tell 'til you _know_,' and I didn't _truly_ know until after you were gone."

"Well, it's fine to have you here," said Dorothy, "but I do truly b'lieve it's almost nicer to be surprised, and have you;" and she threw her arm around Flossie, as she walked beside her.

Tall, handsome Uncle Harry thought he saw a chance for a bit of a joke.

"I wonder why some one isn't surprised to see _me_?" he said.

"Oh, I am," said Dorothy, "and glad, too."

"Well, thank you," said Uncle Harry; then with a face that he tried to make sad, he said:

"But I know you aren't as glad as you were to see Flossie, because,--you didn't put your arm around _my_ waist!"

He had tried to look very glum, but his blue eyes were laughing.

Big, handsome Uncle Harry could not look woebegone, and the two little girls laughed at his attempt.

"The barge is taking our party over to the 'Cleverton,' and I see you have the pony, Dorothy," said Uncle Harry. "Will you run a race with the barge?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Dorothy, "and Romeo will come in ahead!"

"If he does," said Uncle Harry, "I'll surely decorate him with a blue ribbon!"

With many a laugh and jest, and much guessing as to which would be the winner, the merry party clambered into the barge; Dorothy mounted Romeo, and they were off over the road, on the way to the hotel.

The horses, like the average barge horses, were not beauties, but they saw the pony rush forward, and they made an effort at speed. They plunged forward, at what, to them, seemed a reckless pace, but the fine, handsome Romeo shot past them, his nostrils dilated, and his eyes bright with excitement. Dorothy's gay laugh rang out as she pa.s.sed them, and Uncle Harry, as he looked after the flying figure, exclaimed:

"The little fairy! I believe no other child could ride so fearlessly as that!"

Often she looked back, as she sped over the road. Try as they would, the old horses could not overtake her.

As soon as the barge appeared in sight between the trees, she touched Romeo lightly with her whip-stock, and then she laughed gaily as he plunged forward, the old barge rattling along far behind.

She did not permit Romeo to again slacken his pace, and thus arrived at the Cleverton before the barge was in sight, so slow had been its progress.

"Oh, Nancy!" she cried, "Who _do_ you think has come?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: OFTEN SHE LOOKED BACK, AS SHE SPED OVER THE ROAD.--_Page 31._]

"Who has come?" Nancy asked. "Where are they?"

"I mean you can't guess who is coming, and there they come now, Nancy, just look!"

Nancy did look, saw the barge swinging around the curve of the road, saw a tiny handkerchief waving, and then a sweet little face looked out to smile at her.

"Oh, it's Flossie Barnet!" cried Nancy, joyfully, "and her mamma, and,--why, yes it _is_! It's Flossie's Uncle Harry!"

He heard the cry, and heard the welcome in her voice.

"Yes, it's Flossie's Uncle Harry, and all the other little girls' Uncle Harry who care to claim him for an uncle," he said, with a laugh, as he lifted his little niece down from the barge.

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad he came, too," said Dorothy, upon hearing which, he turned and lifting his hat, bowed, thus acknowledging the compliment that she had paid him. His eyes twinkled with pleasure, for he loved children, and he valued their regard. He was a big, manly fellow, with a warm heart, as loving, and as merry as that of a child.

The Barnet party added much to the pleasure of little events and entertainments at the Hotel Cleverton. Flossie became, at once, a favorite with the other children, and her charming mother was deservedly popular with all.

Uncle Harry, who possessed a fine voice, willingly sang whenever a musical program was arranged for an evening, while his lovely young wife, who was an accomplished pianist, played his accompaniments, or rendered solos, thus generously adding to the pleasure of the other guests.

"I tell you what it is," said old Mr. Cunningham, "that big bank of clouds hanging over that mountain means rain, and plenty of it, I believe."

"I think you are right," said Uncle Harry, "and if we _do_ have a three days' rain, as we sometimes do, we shall have to use every effort to keep things humming, and so forget the storm."

They had been sitting on the piazza, and talking of the days of uninterrupted suns.h.i.+ne that they had enjoyed, when, in a few minutes, the blue sky had been hidden, as if by a thin, pearly veil, while hanging over the mountain was the ma.s.s of leaden clouds that had seemed to prophesy rain.

"Oh, _I_ don't want it to rain," wailed Floretta, who stood near them, her pretty face puckered into a most unpleasant frown.

"I'm afraid the weather can't be arranged especially for you," said Mr.

Cunningham.

He, like all the guests, was very tired of the child who was either whining, or boisterously, rudely gay. Just at this point, Mrs. Paxton came out on the piazza, a small note-book and pencil in her hand.