CHAPTER IX
THE WISHING-WELL
"Isn't it funny to think that we stopped at the very place to wish, andnever knew it?" said Valerie, as they ran along the foot path that wouldtake them back, the shortest way to the wall, and the wishing-well.
"Not so 'funny' as that we'd take so much time and trouble to wish whenwe get there," said Betty.
"Why is it odd?" Valerie asked, stopping squarely in front of Betty, andlooking at her with round eyes.
"Oh, because we're acting exactly as if we believed in the old well,"Betty said, looking a bit annoyed, yet keeping straight on toward thewall.
"Well, of course we're not so silly as to _really_ and _truly_ believeit could grant our wishes, but it's no harm to try," responded Valerie.
Betty laughed.
"Oh, we don't believe it all, Yet we _must_ believe a little We _b'lieve_ the water boils When the steam comes from the _kittle_.
"It's dark inside the drum, Yet we hear the drumming well, But that we wished beside the wall We'll never, never tell."
"Where did you hear those verses?" Valerie asked.
"That's a funny song my brother sings. I made the second verse to fitto-day."
"Why, Betty Chase! Who'd think you could make poetry?" cried Valerie,looking Betty over, as if it were the first time she had ever seen her.
Betty laughed gayly.
"I guess Mrs. Marvin would tell you it wasn't poetry. Don't you remembershe told us the other day that many people could write verses, but thatverses were not always _poetry_?"
"Well, all the same, I like the funny verses," Valerie said, "and herewe are at the wall again."
"And here's luck to us, and our wishing!" cried Betty.
She sprang up on the wall beside Valerie, and for a moment the two satthinking.
It was Valerie who first spoke.
"I've been trying to think what to wish for," she said, "and now all atonce I know. Mother told me to work hard this year, so as to stand highin my class, and Aunt Phyllis said if I could finish in June withninety per cent. average she'd give me a beautiful ring. Yes, that'swhat I'll wish for by the old well, and after I've wished it, I'll workharder than ever so that my wish will come true. Well, why do youlaugh?" she asked, looking not only amazed, but rather vexed at Betty,who could not stop laughing even when she saw that Valerie was far fromthinking it a joke.
"Well, what have I said that is so awfully funny?" she asked sharply.
"Don't be provoked, Valerie," Betty said, but her shoulders shookalthough she tried to check her laughter.
"I was only thinking," she continued, "how generous you were to help theold well out so nicely. Just as soon as you've wished, you'll startright out to work hard enough to just _make_ the wish come true, wellor no well, and I do believe, if your aunt gives you the ring, you'llforget how hard you worked, and you'll be saying: 'I do more than halfbelieve in the wishing-well!'"
Valerie was never long angry, and she laughed as she answered:
"Well, Miss Wise-one, are you going to wish, and then sit back and waitto see if it 'comes true'?"
"I'll wish just for fun, but I don't believe what she said about the oldwell any more than you do, Valerie Dare. We'd be silly to even thinkthat an old well had any power to grant wishes," Betty said, but Valerielaughed again.
"Then why did we bother to sit on this wall and wish?" she said.
"We might just as well wish while we're waiting along the road."
"Come on!" cried Betty. "You wished on the wall beside the well, andI'll wish as we walk along, and we'll see which gets what she wishedfor."
"All right," agreed Valerie, "but I _do_ hope you'll get yours, Betty."
"I'm as likely to, as if I'd kept sitting by the well," Betty said, "forI wish for what just _couldn't_ happen."
"Why Betty Chase! Why don't you wish for something that you've a_chance_ of getting," said Valerie, stopping squarely in front of Betty.
"Because I have everything I want but one thing," was the quiet reply.
"And that one thing is--what?" queried Valerie.
"I love Dorothy Dainty, and I don't want to say 'good-by' to her whenschool closes. I'd like to be where she is this summer, but that_couldn't_ be. You see our summer home is lovely, and we go there everyyear. Father and mother like the country better than the shore, but Ilike the beach, and the water best. Dorothy and Nancy will go home toMerrivale, but whether they spend the summer there, or go away to someother place, it won't make much difference to me. It's not likely tohappen that they'll come to the quiet little town where we are to spendthe summer."
Betty's merry face now wore such a sober expression that Valerie said:
"Well, I still say I wish you'd wanted something that really couldhappen."
At that moment some one appeared just around a bend of the road, someone wearing the gayest of colors, and with her a little old-fashionedfigure in a dark brown dress.
"Look! Patricia and Arabella are coming this way, and they look as ifthey were planning something great. Just see how close together theirheads are! I don't know Arabella very well, but when Patricia is 'up to'anything, it's pretty sure to be mischief."
"Oh, I don't know," Valerie. "It's just as likely to be some way she'splanning for a chance to show off."
Betty laughed.
"Did you hear Vera Vane telling about the afternoon that Patriciaknocked at her door, and said that she had come to 'make a call'?"
"I didn't hear that," said Valerie. "What did she do?"
"She was wearing all the rings and bangles that she owned, and in herhand was a card-case, just as if she were grown up. She sat on the tipedge of her chair, and she kept taking out her handkerchief, andshaking it because it was drenched with perfumery, and when she went,she emptied the card-case on the table, and Vera counted the cards. Say,Patricia had left _fifty_. Wasn't that funny?"
"Hush--sh!" breathed Valerie, "she might hear you."
Patricia rushed forward, while Arabella, as usual, hung back, preferringto stare at Betty and Valerie through her spectacles, rather than have alittle chat.
She wanted to watch their faces, and see if they were greatly surprisedwith the news that Patricia had to tell.
"Guess where we're going!" Patricia cried, "but you couldn't guess, soI'll tell you. We're going over to the well, the one that's called thewishing-well," she explained, "and we mustn't tell what we mean to wishfor, 'cause if you tell, you wouldn't get your wish. Did you know that?"
Betty said that she had not heard that.
"I'll tell you to-morrow just how to find it, but we can't stop now.There isn't time."
"Late!" cried Valerie. "I guess you two are late. We think we have tohurry to get to Glenmore on time, and you are going away from schoolevery minute. Why don't you go to the well, if you want to, to-morrow."
Arabella thought that they ought to turn back, but Patricia seized herhand, and the two commenced to run.
"They'll be a half-hour late," said Valerie, looking after the flyingfigures.
"And 'The Fender' will be waiting for a chance to scold them when theycome in," said Betty.
As they pushed the gate open, they saw a little figure disappearingaround the corner of the house.
"That was Ida Mayo," said Valerie.
"I didn't see her face. Are you sure it was Ida?" Betty asked.
"Oh, it was Ida," Valerie answered, "and I do wonder why she stays inher room all the time. If she happens to come down when the girls areout, she runs, the moment she sees any of us coming."
"It's a long time ago that she was sick," Betty replied, "but she mustbe all right by this time. I wonder why she ran when she saw us? Wedon't know her well enough to stop her to talk. She's bigger than weare, and she's three classes above us."
"Who told you she stayed in her own room all the time?" continued Betty.
"Patricia Levine said so," Valerie said.
"Why, Valerie Dare, you know Patricia tells--well--thin
gs that aren't_really_ true," said Betty.
"Well, we don't see Ida, now, as we used to," Valerie said.
"That might just happen," said Betty.
It happened that what Patricia had said was true.
The so-called "beautifier" had injured the skin so severely that itrequired time to heal it.
Mrs. Marvin had said that Ida was feeling far from well, which was true.
Her vanity had prompted her to do a foolish thing, and she had sufferedfor it, both because of her painful face, and because in hernervousness, she had cried until completely tired out.
Mrs. Marvin had talked with her kindly and wisely, she had let old Judytake her meals up to her room, and she had personally given her privateinstruction, for she pitied the silly girl, and sought to keep curiousones from annoying her.
Ida had hastened away when she had seen the two younger girls comingbecause there still were traces on her cheeks of the burning caused bythe patent "beautifier," and she seemed more afraid of the comments ofthe younger girls, than of her own classmates.
As the two girls entered the hall they saw that the tall clock markedthe time as quarter-past five.
"Fifteen minutes to fix up just a bit," said Betty. "Come on!"
They raced up the stairs and soon reached their room.
Valerie was ready first, because Betty had found a letter waiting forher, and promptly sat down to read it.
"You'd better not stop to read it," cautioned Valerie, "for when we camein we had only fifteen minutes to--"
But just then Betty gave a little cry of delight.
"Oh-oo! Just listen to this!" she cried. "Father says we are to go tothe shore this summer just for a change, and already he has rented thesummer place." She clapped her hands, and laughed with sheer happiness.
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that to-night. I do believe I'll dream aboutit," she said.
The half-hour for social chat was over, and dinner was half through whenPatricia and Arabella entered the dining-room.
All eyes were turned upon them.
Patricia held her chin very high, and looked as if she were thinking: "Iknow I'm late, but what of that?" She was assuming a boldness that shedid not feel, whereas Arabella was absolutely natural. She feltfrightened, and looked--just as she felt.
"Wouldn't you like to know what they wished?" whispered Valerie, towhich Betty whispered in reply:
"I'd like to know, but they wouldn't tell us."
It was a fixed rule at Glenmore that the pupils must be present at thesocial half-hour, and then be sure of being prompt at six, the dinnerhour. Patricia and Arabella were the first to break that rule.
* * * * *
There was to be a week's vacation, and all but four of the pupils wereto spend it at home.
They were Patricia and Arabella, Dorothy, and Nancy.
Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte were still traveling, and Mrs. Vane hadasked Vera to bring Dorothy and Nancy home with her for the week.Already they had planned enough pleasure to last a month, and Vera wasstill racking her busy brain to think of other things that they mightdo.
The pupils were welcome to remain at Glenmore if they wished, andPatricia had decided that that was just what she would do.
Arabella had hesitated. She was fond of her father, and she had intendedto go home for the week, but Patricia had declared that they would stayat Glenmore, and Arabella was no match for Patricia, so it was settledthat they would remain at the school.
The week at Vera's home opened charmingly.
Mrs. Vane had given the week over to Vera and her three little guests.
"It isn't quite a week," she said when she greeted them, "for you havearrived Monday afternoon, and you must leave Saturday morning. Thatgives us Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and we must make eachday delightful."
"It always is delightful here," said Dorothy, "and it seemed so good tocome to you when mother was away."
Mrs. Vane drew Dorothy closer. She knew that at heart, sweet Dorothy wasa bit homesick.
"We'll have a pleasant little home evening with music and games," shesaid, "and you'll all feel rested by to-morrow. I'll not tell what I'vein store for to-morrow. That is a secret," she said.
Of course Vera coaxed, and the others tried to guess, but Mrs. Vaneremained firm, only laughing as their guessing grew wilder.
"Mother truly can keep a secret, but I can't," said Vera. "I mean tokeep it but first thing I know, I'm telling it."
"We all know that," said Elf, and Vera joined in the laughter of theothers.
Tuesday was fair, and Mrs. Vane, at lunch looked at the four brightfaces before her, Vera, a small copy of herself; Elf, whose mischievousface was truly elfish; Nancy, whose gypsy beauty always pleased, andDorothy, blue-eyed, fair-haired, whose lovable disposition shone fromher eyes, and made her sweet to look upon.
"We shall take a trip to Fairy-land this afternoon," she said, "andmust start directly after lunch."
That was all that she would tell, and as they motored up one busystreet, and down another, she enjoyed watching their eager faces, andlistening to their chatter.
Fairy-land proved to be a wonderful play, depicting Elf-land withfairies, water nymphs, elves and witches, goblins, and gnomes, withexquisite scenery, beautiful costumes, and graceful dancing that heldthem entranced, from the time that the curtain went up until the grandmarch of the fairies at the finale.
The "grown-ups" in the audience were delighted, so it was not strangethat Mrs. Vane's party was spellbound.
Of them all, Nancy best understood the perfect art of the dancing. Shehad been drilled in those dainty steps, and she saw how cleverly eachdid her part.
It was an afternoon of enchantment, and when the play was over, the gaylittle party howled along the broad thoroughfare toward home and theytalked of the beautiful fairy play, and the graceful girls who haddanced as nymphs.
The four days passed so quickly that when Saturday dawned, it seemedhardly possible that it was time to return to Glenmore.
There had been a wonderful exhibition of paintings for Wednesday, a hugefair for Thursday at which Mrs. Vane bought a lovely gift for each as asouvenir.
Thursday they had motored out beyond the city where willows were showingtheir misty green, and gay little crocus beds were in bloom. They hadstopped for lunch at a pretty restaurant that looked for all the worldlike a rustic cottage, and then had returned to find Rob Vane waiting togreet them, as they drew up to the house.
"Hello!" he called to them before they had alighted.
"How is this, that a fellow gets a week's vacation, and comes home fromschool to find only servants to greet him?"
"Why, Robert, I am glad enough to have you home for a week. I thoughtyou were to stay at school for extra coaching?"
"That's what I wrote in my last letter," said Rob, "but I passed exams.with flying colors. I was nervous, and feared I wasn't prepared, butsay! I was needlessly scared, for I not only 'passed,' but snatched theprize for mathematics."
"I am proud of you, Robert, and your father will be pleased," Mrs. Vanesaid, her fine eyes shining.
"And I'm proud of you, Rob," cried Vera, rushing at him, and claspingher arms about him.
"Hi, Pussy Weather-vane, it's good to have a little sister," said Rob,swinging her around until she was dizzy.
"Are you glad to see me, too?" he asked, laughing at her flushed cheeks,and touzled, flaxen hair.
"Oh, Rob! _So_ glad, even if you do shake me up until I look wild," Verasaid, clinging to his arm, and dragging him toward the little guests.
"I dare to say he's the best brother in the world because neither one ofyou has a brother, so you won't be offended."
"Spare my blushes, Vera," cried Rob. "Say, girls, I'm mighty glad to seeyou. How long are you to stay? A week?"
"We are going back to Glenmore Saturday," Dorothy said, "and we start atnine in the morning. There is no one at the Stone House but theservants, and it was so lovely to com
e home with Vera."
"It surely was the best thing that you could do," Rob replied earnestly,for he knew by a slight quiver in her voice that Dorothy was a bithomesick.
Nancy heard the odd little quiver when Dorothy was speaking, and shehastened to speak of cheery things.
"We've had just the dearest visit, and we've been to the theater, to abig fair, to see a hall hung with beautiful pictures, and how we haveenjoyed it all!" she said.
"I'll do the entertaining to-morrow," said Rob. "I'll take you all tosee something that will be no end of fun."
"What will it be, Rob?" Vera asked, but Rob tweaked her curls, andlaughed.
"That's my secret," he said, and they had to be satisfied with that.