CHAPTER VII
AN EARLY ESCAPADE
Marjorie and Kitty occupied the room that had been Marjorie's the summerbefore. Another little white bed had been put up, and as the room waslarge, the girls were in no way crowded.
Kitty admired the beautiful room, but in her quiet way, by no meansmaking such demonstrations of delight as Marjorie had when she first sawit. Also Kitty felt a sort of possession, as she would return later andoccupy the room for the whole summer.
"Lots of these things on the shelf, Midget, I shall have taken away," shesaid, as the girls were preparing for bed that same night; "for they'reyour things, and I don't care about them, and I want to make room for myown."
"All right, Kit, but don't bother about them now. When you come back inJune, put them all in a big box and have them put up in the attic until Icome again. I only hope you'll have as good a time here as I had lastsummer. Molly Moss and Stella Martin are nearer my age than yours, butyou'll like them, I know."
"Oh, I know Molly, but I don't remember Stella."
"You'll prob'ly like Stella best, though, 'cause she's so quiet andsensible like you. Molly's a scalawag, like me."
"All right," said Kitty, sleepily, for she was too tired to discuss theneighbors, and very soon the two girls were sound asleep.
It was very early when Marjorie awoke the next morning. Indeed, the sunhad not yet risen, but the coming of this event had cast rosy shadowsbefore. The east was cloudily bright, where the golden beams were tryingto break through the lingering shades of night, and the scattering cloudswere masses of pink and silver.
When Marjorie opened her eyes, she was so very wide awake that she knewshe should not go to sleep again, and indeed had no desire to. The daysat Grandma's would be few and short enough anyway, and she meant toimprove every shining minute of them, and so concluded to begin beforethe minutes had really begun to shine.
She hopped out of bed, and, not to wake Kitty, went very softly to thewindow, and looked out. Across the two wide lawns she could see dimly theoutlines of Stella's house, half-hidden by trees, and beyond that shecould see the chimneys and gables of Molly's house. She watched the sunpoking the tip edge of his circumference above a distant hill, and thebright rays that darted toward her made her eyes dance with sympatheticjoy.
"Kitty," she whispered, not wanting to wake her sister, yet wishing shehad somebody to share with her the effect of the beautiful sunrise.
"You needn't speak so softly, I'm wide awake," responded Kitty, in hermatter-of-fact way; "what do you want?"
"I want you, you goosey! Hop out of bed, and come and see thisgorgiferous sunrise!"
Slowly and carefully, as she did everything, Kitty folded back thebedcovers, drew on a pair of bedroom slippers, and then put on a kimonaover her frilled nightgown, adjusting it in place and tying its blueribbon.
"Gracious, Kit! What an old fuss you are! The sun will be up and over andsetting before you get here!"
"I'd just as lieve see a sunset as a sunrise, anyway," declared Kitty, asshe walked leisurely across the room, just in time to see the great redgold disc tear its lower edge loose from the hill with what seemed almostto be a leap up in the air.
But once at the window, she was as enthusiastic in her enjoyment of thebreaking day as Marjorie, though not quite so demonstrative.
"Put on a kimona, Midget," she said at last; "you'll catch cold flyingaround in your night dress."
"Kit," said her sister, unheeding the admonition, and sitting down on theedge of her bed as she talked, "I've the most splendiferous plan!"
"So've I," said Kitty; "mine is to go back to bed and sleep tillbreakfast time."
"Pooh! you old Armadillo! Mine's nothing like that."
"Why am I an Armadillo?" asked Kitty, greatly interested to know.
"Because you want to sleep so much."
"That isn't an Armadillo, that's an Anaconda."
"Well, you're it anyway; and it ought to be Armadillo, because it rhymeswith pillow! But now, you just listen to my plan. Seem's if I justcouldn't wait any longer to see Molly and Stella, and I'm going to dressright, straight, bang, quick! and go over there. Come on."
"They won't be awake."
"Of course they won't; that's the fun of it! We'll throw little pebblesup at their windows, and wake them up, and make them come out."
"Well, all right, I will." Kitty reached this decision after a fewmoments' consideration, as Marjorie felt sure she would. Kitty usuallyagreed to her older sister's plans, but she made up her mind slowly,while Midget always reached her conclusions with a hop, skip, and jump.
So the girls began to dress, and in a very few minutes they werebuttoning each other's frocks and tying each other's hair ribbons.
Marjorie had invented a way by which they could tie each other's hairribbons at the same time, but as it oftenest resulted in pulled hair andbadly made bows, it was not much of a time-saver after all.
"But I do think, Kit," she said, "being in such haste this morning, wemight manage to button each other's dresses at the same time. Stand backto back and let's try."
The trial was a decided failure, and resulted only in a frolic, afterwhich the buttoning was done separately and successfully.
"And anyway, we're not in such a hurry," commented Kitty, "and don't evertry that stunt again, Mopsy. My arms are nearly twisted off!"
"All right, Kit, I won't. Now are you ready? Come on; don't make anynoise; we don't want to wake anybody."
They tiptoed downstairs, and as a greater precaution against waking thesleeping grownups, they went through the kitchen, and out at the backdoor, which they easily unbolted from the inside.
"We'll have to leave this door unfastened," said Marjorie. "I hope noburglars will get in."
"Of course they won't; burglars never come around after sunrise. Oh,isn't it lovely to smell the fresh morningness!"
Kitty stood still, and sniffed the clear, crisp air, while theexhilarating effects of the atmosphere caused Marjorie to dance andprance in circles round her quieter sister.
"When you've sniffed enough, come on, Kit," she said, dancing away towardStella's house.
Kitty came on, and soon they stood on the greensward directly beneathStella's bedroom window.
The morning was very still, and the Martins' house looked forbidding,with its silent, closed-up air. It was not yet half-past five, and noteven the servants were stirring.
Marjorie's courage failed her. "I guess we won't try Stella first," shewhispered to Kitty. "Stella's so scary. Once I just said '_boo_' ather, and she cried like fury. If we fire pebbles at her window, like asnot she'll think it's a burglar and have yelling hysterics."
"Burglars don't throw pebbles to wake people up."
"Well, Stella's just as likely to think they do. You never can tell whatStella's going to think, or what she's going to do, either. Anyway, let'sgo to Molly's first; you can't scare her."
"All right," agreed Kitty, and hand in hand the two girls trudged on tothe next house.
"I believe I'll get up every morning at five o'clock," said Marjorie; "itis so fresh and green and wet."
"Yes, it's awful wet," said Kitty, looking at her shoes; "but it's adelicious kind of a wetness. Dew is awful different from rain."
"Yes, isn't it; dew makes you think of fairies and,--"
"And spiders," said Kitty, kicking at one of the spider webs with whichthe grass was dotted.
"Well, I think spiders are sort of fairies," said Marjorie, lookinglovingly at the glistening webs; "They must be to weave such silky,spangly stuff."
"They weave it for the fairies, Mops. They weave it in the night; andthen about sunrise, the fairies come and gather up the silky, spanglystuff, and take it away to make their dresses out of it. See, they'remost all gone now."
"Pooh! the sun dried them up."
"No, he didn't; the fairies came and took them away. Of course you can'tsee the fairies, and that's why people think the sun dries up the webs."Kitty spoke as one with au
thority, and into her eyes came the farawaylook that always appeared when her imagination was running riot. For areally practical child, Kitty had a great deal of imagination, but thetwo traits never conflicted.
"This is Molly's window," said Marjorie, dismissing the question offairies as they reached Mr. Moss's house.
"Why don't you whistle or call her?" suggested Kitty.
"No, that might wake up her father and mother. And besides, throwingpebbles is lots more fun. Let's get a handful from the drive. Get bothhands full."
In a moment four little hands were filled with pebbles.
"Wait a minute," said thoughtful Kitty; "let's pick out the biggest onesand throw them away. Some of these big stones might break a window."
So the girls sat down on the front steps and carefully assorted theirpebbles until at last they had their hands filled with only the tinieststones.
"Now the thing is to throw straight," said Marjorie.
"You throw first," said Kitty, "and then I'll follow."
Like a flash, Marjorie's right hand full of pebbles clattered againstMolly's window, and was swiftly followed by a second shower from Kitty'sright hand. Then they shifted the pebbles in their left hand to theirright, and, swish! these pebbles followed the others.
But though the Maynard children were quick, Molly Moss was quicker. Atthe first pebbles she flew out of bed and flung up the window, raisingthe sash just in time to get the second lot distributed over her own faceand person.
"Oh, Molly, have we hurt you?" called out Kitty, who realized first whatthey had done.
"No, not a bit! I knew the minute I heard the pebbles it was you girls.I'm awful glad to see you! Shall I get dressed and come out?"
"Yes, do!" cried Marjorie, who was hopping up and down on one foot in herexcitement. "Will it take you long to dress?"
"No, indeed; I'll be down in a jiffy. Just you wait a minute."
It might have been more than a minute, but it wasn't much more, when thegirls heard a rustling above them, and looked up to see Molly, fullydressed, climbing out of the window.
"Oh, Molly, you'll break your neck!" cried Kitty, for Molly was alreadydescending by a rose trellis that was amply strong enough for a climbingrose, but which swayed and wabbled frightfully tinder the weight of aclimbing girl.
However, Molly didn't weigh very much, and she had the scrambling abilityof a cat, so in a few seconds she was down on the ground, and embracingthe two Maynard girls both at once.
"You're perfect ducks to come over here so early! How did you get away?"
"Slid out the back door," said Marjorie; "isn't it larky to be around soearly in the morning?"
"Perfectly fine! How long are you girls going to stay?"
"Not quite a week, I think," said Kitty, and Marjorie added, "So we wantto cram all the fun we can into these few days, and so we thought we'dbegin early."
"All right," said Molly, taking her literally, "let's begin right now."
"Oh, we can't do anything now," said Marjorie, "that is, nothing inp'ticular."
"Pooh! yes, we can! It's only about half-past five, and we don't havebreakfast till eight, do you?"
"Yes, Grandma has it at eight," said Marjorie, "but, gracious, I'll bestarved to death by that time! I'm so hungry now I don't know what todo!"
"I'll tell you what," began Kitty, and upon her face there dawned thatrapt expression, which always appeared when she was about to proposesomething ingenious.
"What?" cried Midget and Molly, both at once.
"Why," said Kitty, impressed with the greatness of her own idea, "let'shave a picnic!"
"Picnic!" cried Marjorie, "before breakfast! At half-past five in themorning! Kit, you're crazy!"
"No, I'm not crazy," said Kitty, seriously, and Molly broke in, "Ofcourse she isn't! It's a grand idea!"
"But you can't have a picnic without things to eat," objected Marjorie.
"We'll have things to eat," declared Kitty, calmly.
"Where'll you get 'em?"
"Kitchen."
"Kit, you're a genius! Prob'ly Eliza's pantry is just chock-a-block withgood things! And as I know they were made for us, we may as well eatsome now."
Then Molly had an inspiration. "I'll tell you what," she cried, "let's goon the river! in the boat!"