"All right, let us; I don't care how much fun we have with them, the more the better," returned Lucindy. No sooner said than done; over their clothing they stretched the dresses, and jerked and settled them into the proper set. Shouts of laughter greeted every ridiculous pose and awkward stumble, and certainly nothing could be more provocative of merriment than their appearance. They trailed the dresses over the stubble in mock dignity; they improvised a dance, and went through all the grotesque changes they could invent. Their comments and jokes were most spicy and personal, and in all Lucindy led.

After a good time enjoyed in this way, the fun lost its point and novelty, and they threw the dresses in a heap on the gra.s.s, and sat and chatted over the gossip connected with the school at the cross roads. The afternoon was wearing on, and Lucindy thought it time to produce her good things, and taking up the dresses, ran along to the house.

In getting through the bars she dropped the mull overskirt and did not perceive her loss. Gretchen saw it, and running after, brought it back. Lucindy hung the dresses up in their places, certainly not improved by the airing they had had; but chancing to look out of an upper window, she was horrified to see down the road the identical team that Mrs. Randolph had hired, and as true as the world, they were coming home!

She rushed down, and abandoning the lunch, ran as fast as she could to the field, and as she approached, this was the sight that met her gaze:

Gretchen was strutting about with a dock leaf held over her head for a parasol, and trailing the beautiful mull overskirt on the ground, endeavoring to realize the feelings of a fine lady in a trailed dress.

"Gretchen! Gretchen!" screamed Lucindy, as loudly as she dared. "Hide it! hide it! Mrs. Randolph has come home!"

Carrie jumped, and lifting Gretchen from it, secured the skirt, and Lucindy grasped it and rolled it in a small ball and hid it in the hazel bushes. Then they held a hurried consultation, and decided it was best for Lucindy to go back immediately; but, as it was now impossible to restore the skirt to its place in the wardrobe, they urged her to put it in some unfrequented spot, until a favorable opportunity came to get it back. Lucindy now feared her aunt would arrive without warning, and, although loth to part without the long antic.i.p.ated treat, they walked quickly down the path by the fence toward the road.

"What on the face of the earth will I ever do with this thing?"

whispered Lucindy, for the first time betraying fear. "I can't get it back to-night, that's as plain as the nose on your face. Oh, grief!

she may inquire after it as soon as I go in! It'll be just like my luck for her to want to wear it to-night. Maybe she expects some one to spend the evening with them, and that's what brought them back so early. Let me see--Auntie will find it if I put it anywhere about the house or barn; I must not be found out in this, because if I am, Auntie wont give me the present she promised. I'll tell you, Carrie, you take it and put it down the hole in the tree, under the tin box.

No one has ever found out that place; it will be safe there until I go for it to-morrow."

This was immediately decided upon, and the girls went sulkily home.

The skirt was forced down into the tree, and the tin box placed on top, and they trudged slowly homeward.

As Lucindy approached the house, she began to see more and more the serious dilemma in which she was placed, and her face hardened visibly as she thought.

"I'll deny the whole thing if I'm cornered; perhaps Mrs. Randolph will live through the disappointment of not wearing her dress for once. I have to live all the time without such dresses."

Just then she heard her aunt calling her, and she knew that some unlooked-for occasion had brought them home before evening.

"Lucindy, we must hurry up the tea; the folks are going to spend the evening at Judge Brander's. The team is waiting to take them there.

Mrs. Randolph saw me in the village, and told me."

Lucindy did not answer, but went in and about her duties as usual.

Presently Mrs. Randolph called for Mrs. Gimson to come up stairs, as she wished to speak to her. Lucindy felt that now the discovery had been made, and strengthening her purpose, to deny all, worked on, quietly waiting for developments.

In a few moments, her aunt came down in great excitement, and told her that someone had been in the house, while they were away, and had stolen Mrs. Randolph's elegant India mull overskirt, and had almost ruined her other dresses, as the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs were broken and destroyed, and some of them were gone entirely.

"It must have been when I went for water; I noticed that there were two tramps going down the road, a man and woman."

"Oh, Lucindy, you should have locked the door!"

"Why, aunt, I never lock the doors when I go after water. I suppose you'll put the blame of it on me!" Here Lucindy began to cry. "I think you are a very strange woman to leave no one but a girl alone in a house, with such valuable things; it's a wonder the robbers didn't kill me; my coming in frightened them away. I've no doubt they thought it was the hired man," Lucindy continued to cry.

Mrs. Gimson never suspected her niece of such systematic deception.

The well was a short distance from the house, and that accounted for the fact that nothing else was missing, as they had not had time, and also that the other dresses had been rudely dragged to get them down.

She believed Lucindy's story. Mrs. Randolph could not account for the plight in which she found her clothing, and bewailed her loss, as being particularly annoying at this juncture.

Nothing more was said, and, after taking tea, they started for the Judge's, leaving Mrs. Gimson in a greatly perturbed state of mind. She knew that this unfortunate thing would get abroad and discourage patrons. Desirable boarders would avoid her house in future.

Lucindy, never uttering a comforting word to her aunt, went up to her room with an air of injured innocence that hurt her aunt quite as much as any thing she had undergone. During the early part of the evening a violent thunder storm came up, and Mrs. Randolph did not return. The next morning it still rained, and there was no excuse for Lucindy's going out, and the dress could not be secured. Mrs. Randolph returned at noon, and informed Mrs. Gimson that she had been invited to visit, for the rest of the summer, at Judge Brander's, and would leave Mrs.

Gimson's the next day.

Just as soon as Lucindy could be spared, she ran down to the tree post-office, put a note into the tin box, and returned. This, Carrie Hess got as soon as recess came, and the scheme worked out successfully, as the event proved.

Barry, Hattie's brother, was standing by the shrubbery gate, when a little barefoot boy sidled up, and attracted his attention by his curious behavior--he finally spoke:

"I say, them Hitalyans stuffed yer mother's clothes inter a tree down here; I found it this mornin'."

"What do you mean?" asked Barry, not fully understanding the boy.

"That ere tree, don't yer see?" and the boy pointed to the girls'

post-office, that stood out dimly down the road.

"Is it there now?" asked Barry.

"I do'no, I seed it there this mornin'."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A LITTLE BAREFOOT BOY SIDLED UP AND ATTRACTED HIS ATTENTION.]

"Wait till I go and tell my mother," said Barry, and he ran into the house.

In a moment Mrs. Randolph and Mrs. Gimson were at the gate, but the boy had disappeared. "Go down, Barry, and see if what he says is true," said his mother. He ran off, and returning after a little time, brought the overskirt, rolled up in a soiled bundle, as the rain had soaked it and the decayed wood had stained it.

"Yes, I think it must have been those tramps," said Mrs. Randolph.

"They hid it there, expecting to come for the rest of it the next day.

They'll be disappointed. I'll be gone."

The boy was Carrie Hess's brother, and the ruse had worked; entirely turning off all suspicion from Lucindy.

Mrs. Gimson lost her summer boarders and Lucindy returned to school.

This unprincipled girl, however, learned the hard lesson, in her after life, that ingrat.i.tude to benefactors, and unfaithfulness to trust, meet a sure retribution, even if they appear to succeed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A MIDNIGHT ATTACK.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: {AS NIGHT CAME DARKLY DOWN--BIRDS; A WOMAN AND CHILD; TREES.}]

[Ill.u.s.tration: {A CHERUB AND BIRDS.}]

AS NIGHT CAME DARKLY DOWN.

The night came darkly down; The birdies' mother said, "Peep! peep!

You ought to be asleep!