Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains Part 7

"Every one has gone somewhere," she thought; "didn't any one stay at home?"

She stood for a moment in the doorway, wondering what to do. Suddenly her face brightened, and she clapped her hands.

"The very thing!" she said, and she turned and hastened to her room to find her latest gift.

It was a beautiful book of fairy tales, and although it had been given her over a week ago, she had read but a few of the stories. Mrs. Dainty had sent to the city for the book, and ever since the day of its arrival Dorothy had been wild to read it.

Something had been planned for each sunny day, and as the weather had continued fair, the book had been opened but a few times, and then for only a brief glance at the tales or the ill.u.s.trations.

Mrs. Dainty had gone to the village, a ride of about an hour from the hotel, and Aunt Charlotte was still occupied with her letters.

Nancy was sealing and stamping the envelopes, as Dorothy pa.s.sed the door.

"I'm going over to the little 'birch arbor,'" she said. "I'm taking my new fairy book for company."

"I'll come, too, just as soon as I've finished these envelopes," said Nancy, and she began to work faster.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "OH, WHAT A LOVELY, _LOVELY_ STORY!" SAID DOROTHY.--_Page 67._]

The "birch arbor" was not an actual arbor, but it was a lovely spot, and the birches were exceptionally fine. Nancy and Dorothy had often been there together, and they had given it the name.

A tiny mountain brook ran through it, and it was a lovely spot in which to enjoy legends or fairy tales.

In a few moments Dorothy had reached the place, and when she had seated herself, she opened the book where a fine picture showed the prince, whose father had given him three wishes as his only inheritance, and then had sent him out to seek his fortune.

Twice she had commenced to read the story, and had been obliged to lay it aside. Now, with only the bees and the b.u.t.terflies hovering about her, she read the fascinating tale.

It proved to be even more charming than she had expected.

The prince was tall, and dark, and handsome, and his heart was so good and true, that Dorothy felt that he richly deserved the beautiful princess whom he finally won.

Her eyes sparkled as she read of the great court wedding.

"And the lovely princess looked more beautiful than ever in her wedding gown of cloth of gold, thickly set with diamonds, and her crown of diamonds and sapphires."

"Oh what a lovely, _lovely_ story!" said Dorothy, as she turned the page.

"Tiny princes carried her train, and as the happy pair reached the palace gates, and were about to enter the royal coach, the blare of trumpets sounded, as the guards in blue and gold played a gay fanfare."

"Toot! Toot! Toot!"

Dorothy sprang to her feet.

It was as if those silver-toned trumpets had sounded close beside her. A moment more, and a huge automobile appeared from behind the trees and shrubbery, and slackening its speed, came, at last, to a standstill, and an old lady leaned out to question her.

"Are we going in the right direction, my dear, to reach the Hotel Cleverton?"

Dorothy walked toward the car, and looked up into the hard, old face.

"This little road is _right_," said Dorothy, "but the broad road that leads out of this one is not so rough, and it is a _little_ shorter."

"There, Minturn, I _said plainly_ that I believed we could get there quicker some other way!"

"You are _sure_ about the Cleverton?" the old lady asked. "You _know_ where it is?"

"I'm staying there with mamma, and that truly is the right way," said Dorothy, her soft eyes looking up into the hard, old face.

"I guess I can trust you," the old lady said, not smiling, but looking a bit less stern.

"Now, Minturn, we'll _try_ to reach the hotel, sometime before dark!"

she said curtly.

Puffing and whirring the big automobile started off up the road, the old lady sitting stern and erect, as if she thought her driver needed watching, and she was determined to keep a sharp eye upon him.

"Why, how queer!" said Dorothy. "She didn't even say 'good-bye,' or 'good-morning.' Perhaps she was very tired, and forgot,"--then after a moment she added, "but my beautiful mamma _never_ forgets."

She went back to the pretty spot where she had been reading, and sitting down, opened the book, but she could not keep her mind upon the stories.

The strange face of the old lady seemed to look at her from the printed page.

How small and sharp her eyes had been, and how she asked the same question again and again. Did she doubt the answer given her?

All these, and many more questions puzzled Dorothy, and with the open book lying upon her lap, she looked off where the sunlight lay upon the gra.s.s.

She was still sitting thus when a merry voice aroused her, and she turned to see Nancy running toward her.

"Oh, Dorothy!" she cried. "You ought to have been up at the hotel just a few moments ago. A new guest came, and she was so cross, it _must_ be that she didn't want to come. But if she truly _didn't_ want to, then why _did_ she?"

"Why, Nancy, who wouldn't think it fine to come up here to the mountains, and stay at the Cleverton?" said Dorothy in surprise.

"Well, you wouldn't have thought the old lady was glad to be there, if you'd seen her," said Nancy.

"Oh, was it an old lady that you were talking about?" Dorothy asked quickly.

"Yes, and you ought to have seen her eyes snap when she scolded her chauffeur. She told him she might have arrived an hour before just as well as not, and she kept right on scolding to herself, all the way up to the piazza, and, Dorothy, she looked so cross, I wouldn't wonder if she was scolding up in her room now!"

"She must be the same one that was here just a little while ago,"

Dorothy said, "and she asked me to tell her the nearest way to the Cleverton. When I told her, she made the man rush off over the road, and she was scolding him when they left here. Perhaps she was tired, and will feel pleasanter when she has rested."

"Perhaps," agreed Nancy, "but I know Aunt Charlotte and your mamma don't act that way when they are tired."

Dorothy could not dispute that, and soon the two little girls were enjoying the fairy book together.

"Now, this is the story I've just been reading," said Dorothy, "and this is the picture of the prince. Isn't he handsome?"

"Oh, yes," said Nancy, "and doesn't he look like Flossie's Uncle Harry?"

"Why, he _does_, truly," cried Dorothy. "I'll show the picture to Flossie, and I'm sure she'll say it looks ever so much like him."

"Oh, she will," agreed Nancy.