Dolly, of her own accord, turned in at the gate of an unusually beautiful place. There are no fine lawns in Florida. In this case, the lack of such green was made up by a waving ma.s.s of blooming cardinal phlox, behind which was an orange grove in full bearing. In the well-cultivated grounds there were many inviting drives through avenues of trees.

"What are we going in here for?" asked Beth.

"Do you think it a pretty place?" returned Mr. Davenport.

"I never saw a prettier place. It's grand."

"Guess who owns it."

"How should I know? I don't know any people in Florida."

"You know the Davenports. They are to live here. I bought the place this morning."

Beth could hardly believe her father. He had, indeed, greatly surprised her. That she was to be a little Florida lady henceforth, hardly seemed possible. She thought she must be a fairy-story princess, and that the fairies were vying with one another in showering upon her the good things of life.

"I'm so happy, I don't know what to say or do. Why, if a good fairy offered to grant me three wishes, I shouldn't know what to ask. I have everything," declared Beth.

"There aren't any fairies, and you know it. So what's the use of talking about them," interrupted practical Marian.

"Mamma says our thoughts are the real fairies," returned Beth, nothing daunted, and added, "papa has given me plenty of good ones to-day."

"I was in great luck to secure this place," said Mr. Davenport. "It had just been put on the market as Mr. Marlowe, the former owner, was called North by the death of his wife. The agent brought me out this morning, and I was so delighted with it that I would look no farther.

I found the t.i.tle all right, and so I signed the papers at once."

CHAPTER II

The New Home

The house on the place just described was a rambling two-storied building with many porches--a typical vine-covered Southern cottage.

It was picturesque from every side, and seemed to have no prosaic back.

Marechal Niel roses, and honeysuckles, and some tropical vines, climbed over latticework almost to the roof. There were, also, many trees near the house, some of which were rare.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Beth's new home. (Ill.u.s.tration missing from book)]

A colored woman bustled out of a side door, and looked down the road leading to the gate through which the Davenports' carriage had entered.

Evidently, she was no common negro, but had served "quality" all her life--a typical old-time mammy. A red bandanna was drawn tightly over her short curly wool. Her dress was of flowered calico, and around her neck was a brilliant-hued shawl. A neat gingham ap.r.o.n covered her skirt. Her face broke into a smile, and she pointed to the palm-lined driveway.

"Yo' t.i.tus--yo' Glory--Indianna--all yo' n.i.g.g.ahs come hyere. De new ma.s.sa and missus am comin'," she called.

Out from the house, from the fields, from the quarters, they came trooping; old and young; weazened and pretty; black and yellow; all rolling their gleaming black eyes in the direction of the carriage which they saw come to a sudden standstill.

"What's de mattah?" they cried, and one young darky started down the road to see. He beheld January descend from the carriage, and walk to a persimmon tree and pluck some of the fruit.

The darky wondered what was to be done with the fruit that he knew was still green. His curiosity made him sneak up within earshot.

January returned to the carriage, and handed the fruit to Beth. The darky heard him say:

"I wouldn't eat dem, Missy Beth, if I wuz yo'. Dey am powerful green."

To her the little round fruit looked very tempting, especially the light yellow ones. Therefore she did not heed him. She selected one, but, instead of taking a dainty nibble, she put the whole fruit into her mouth, and bit down on it. Immediately, she set up a cry, and spit out the persimmon. "Ow-ow-ow, how it puckers!"

January chuckled, and, before driving on, he said: "I tole yo' so, Missy Beth."

Marian laughed until she was tired. "Beth, if you are drawn up inside the way your face is outside, it must be terrible."

"It is. It is." But she did not receive any sympathy. Even Mr.

Davenport laughed at her. He had told her not to have January get them, but she had insisted on having her own way.

"Beth," he said, "I hope this may teach you a lesson. You must not taste things that you know nothing about."

Her mouth was still so drawn up that she did not care to do any more tasting--at least, not for the present. When she thought n.o.body was looking, she let the rest of the persimmons roll out of the carriage.

"What do they all do?" asked Beth as the carriage came to a standstill, and she noted the waiting negroes. As January helped her out, he chuckled, and swelled visibly with pride. "Dey all work for us, Missy Beth. She's de boss," he added in a low tone pointing to the colored woman with the bandanna. "Dat's Maggie; yo'd bettah make up with her."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Maggie, a typical old-time mammy.]

The darkies courtesied. Their manners were of the old school. Beth ran up to Maggie.

"I hope you'll like me, Maggie, for I know I'll like you."

Maggie's face beamed. "Of cou'se, honey, I jes' kan't help likin' yo'.

Yo'se de sweetest little missy I knows," and then she added: "Ma.s.sa, I'se 'sidered yore proposition, an' me an' t.i.tus 'cided to stay."

"All right, Maggie. You can show Mrs. Davenport and the children around the house."

Marian was willing to go with her mother, but Beth hung back.

"I don't care for the house. I want to see the front yard and river.

May I go, papa?"

"If you'll come back in half an hour, you may go."

"All right, papa," and Beth was off like a flash around the corner of the house. She was impatient to see everything in that half hour. She felt that she needed a thousand eyes. The trees bewildered her. There were so many varieties she had never seen before--magnolias with their wonderful glossy foliage; bamboos with their tropical stalks covered with luxuriant green; pomegranates; live-oaks and water-oaks; the wild olive with its feathery white blossoms, and many others.

The moss on the oaks swayed back and forth, seeming to murmur, "Beth, these trees are the best of playfellows. Climb up here with us. We'll have great fun," but she would not heed them. There was too much to see.

All of a sudden, she stopped perfectly still. She thought there must be a fairy up in one of the trees with the most wonderful voice she had ever heard. Such singing, she thought, was too sweet to be human.

She looked up and beheld a bird of medium size, and of plain plumage.

It c.o.c.ked its little head to one side, and eyed the child as if it knew no fear. It sang on undisturbed.

"Beth," this is what the warbler said to her, "come up into this beautiful tree with us. Stay with us." The enticement of the bird, added to the fascination trees had for her, was almost too much for so little a girl to resist. However, she put her fingers into her ears, and ran on. But, she did not escape temptation thus. Countless beds of roses, of geraniums, and of many other flowers tempted her to linger, and gather the fragrant blossoms, but, still she did not succ.u.mb, for there was greater beauty ahead. She beheld a lovely avenue formed of orange trees and red and white oleanders trimmed to a perfect archway. The winter had been a mild one. Not only did luscious ripe oranges cling to the trees, but green fruit was forming, and there was, also, a wealth of fragrant blossoms. The oleanders, too, were coming into bloom.

Beth stopped for a moment to draw in some of the wonderful fragrance that filled the air. No perfume is more delightful than that of orange blossoms in their native grove. The fruit, too, looks more tempting on the trees. The glistening green leaves are just the right setting for the golden yellow b.a.l.l.s. Beth wished to stop and eat some of the fruit, but again she proved firm. She ran on and on under the shade of the archway that extended a quarter of a mile at the very least. She ran so fast that her breath shortened and her cheeks flamed.

At the end of the avenue was an arch of stone covered with climbing Cherokees spread in wild confusion. Beth did not stop to gather any of the pure, fragrant blossoms, for right in front of the arch was a wharf leading out on the beautiful St. Johns. The river was from one to two miles wide at this point. It glistened and rippled under the brilliant sunshine. As Beth ran out on the wharf, she thought she had never seen a sight more charming.