"It has been a great day for me," said Fee, slowly. "I don't mind telling you people, now, that that disappointment in the fall took the heart and interest all out of my studies; but now"--he straightened himself up, and his voice rang out--"_now_ I have hope again, and courage, and you'll see what I can do. Thanks don't express my feelings; I'm more than thankful to aunt Lindsay!"

"So 'm I," I piped up, and I meant that; I was beginning to feel better about it.

"Thankful, more thankful, most thankful," Phil said, pointing his finger at Nora, then at me, then at Felix; "and here am I, the 'thankfullest'

of all."

There was a break in his voice that surprised us; and to cover it up, he began some more of his nonsense. "High time for us--the _pater's_ little infants--to be a-bed," he said, laughing. "Come, Mr. Boffin, make your adieux and prepare to leave

"'The gay, the gay and festive scene; The halls, the halls of dazzling light.'"

And suddenly, catching Fee in his arms, he ran lightly up the stairs with him, calling back to us: "'Good-night, ladies! good-night, ladies!

good-night, ladies! I'm going to leave you now!'"

XVIII.

EXPERIENCES AT ENDICOTT BEACH.

TOLD BY BETTY.

Nora insisted that it was "exceedingly kind" of the Ervengs, and "a compliment" to me, and all that sort of thing, to invite me to spend a month with them at their country place. Well, perhaps she was right: Nora is _always_ right,--in her own estimation; all the same, I didn't want to go one step, and I am afraid I was rather disagreeable about it.

You see I had been looking forward to going to the Cottage with the others; and having to start off for an entirely different place at only a few hours' notice quite upset me. At the Cottage, Nannie takes charge while Miss Marston is away for her holidays, and she lets us amuse ourselves in our own way, as long as we are punctual at meals,--papa insists on that,--and don't get into mischief. One can wear one's oldest clothes, and just _live_ out of doors; what with driving old Pegasus, and riding G. W. L. Spry, and boating, fishing, crabbing, wading, and playing in the sand, we do have the jolliest times! Now, instead of all this fun and freedom, I was to be packed off to visit people that I didn't know very well, and didn't care a jot about. Of course I knew Hilliard _pretty_ well,--he's been at the house often enough! I didn't mind him much, though he is provokingly slow, and so--well, _queer_, for I could speak my mind right out to him if I felt like it; but it seemed to me that Mr. Erveng must always remember that silly escapade of mine whenever he looked at me, and I was sure that Mrs. Erveng regarded me as a rough, overgrown tomboy. Somehow, when I am with her I feel dreadfully awkward,--all hands, and feet, and voice; though these things don't trouble me in the least with any one else. I did wish that she had invited Nora to visit her instead of me.

When I saw my old blue flannel laid with the things to go to the Cottage, and only my best gowns put into the trunk I was to take to the Ervengs', it suddenly rushed over me that I would have to be on my company manners for a whole month! and I got so mad that it would have been a relief to just _roar_,--the way Kathie does.

Nannie was away, and the others didn't seem to understand how I felt; in fact, Nora aggravated me by scolding, and saying I ought to feel highly delighted, when I knew that deep down in her heart she was only too thankful that _she_ hadn't been asked. Jack was the only person that sympathised with me,--dear old Jackie-boy! I'm beginning to think that there is a good deal to Jack, for all he's so girlie.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IN THE DRAWING-ROOM CAR."]

The Ervengs called for me the morning after papa and Nannie had gone to the mountains,--right after breakfast,--and I can a.s.sure you it was dreadfully hard to keep back the tears when I was telling the family good-bye; and when I was seated in the carriage, right under Mr. and Mrs. Erveng's eyes, I got the most insane desire to scream out loud, or burst the door open and jump out: I had to sit up very straight and set my lips tight together, to keep from doing it.

That feeling wore off, though, by the time we got settled in the drawing-room car, and I was three seats from Mrs. Erveng,--I managed that,--with Mr. Erveng and Hilliard between us. It was a marvel to me the way those two waited on Mrs. Erveng; in watching them do it I forgot about myself. Her chair must be at just such an angle, her footstool in just such a position, and the cushions at her back just so many, and most carefully arranged; and if she stirred, they were all attention immediately. And they were like that the whole month that I was at Endicott Beach, though it seemed to me sometimes that she was very exacting.

Now with us, though we love one another dearly, and, as Phil says, would go through fire and water for one another if need be, particularly if any one were ill, still we're not willing to be imposed on _all_ the time, and we do keep the different ones up to the mark, and stand up for our individual rights,--we've _got_ to where there are so many. But the Ervengs aren't in the least like us; and I think that, in some ways, Hilliard is the very oddest boy I've _ever_ known.

To begin with, he is so literal,--away ahead of Nora; he took so many things seriously that I said in joke that at first I didn't know what to make of him. I used to get _so_ provoked! He doesn't understand the sort of "chaffing" that we do so much at home, and he is slow to get an idea; but once it's fixed in his mind, you needn't think he's going to change,--it's there for the rest of his natural life. He could no more change his opinion about things as I do than he could fly. Perhaps he thinks I'm frivolous and "uncouth,"--as Nora sometimes says I am. Well, let him; who cares? _I_ think _he_ is a regular old poke, though he is better than I thought at first; but you'll hear all about it. Of course Hilliard was polite, and all that, when he came to our house, but I didn't always see him; in fact, I used to keep out of the way on purpose, many a time: so I didn't really know what sort of a boy he was until I went to stay at the beach.

Well, as soon as Mrs. Erveng was comfortably settled, Hilliard came over to me with a big soft cushion in his hand. "May I put this at your back?" he asked. "It's a tiresome journey to Boston, and we've got quite a ride after that to reach Endicott Beach; so let me make you as comfortable as possible."

Now if he had come up and simply put the cushion on the back of my chair, the way Phil, or Felix, or Jack would have done, I wouldn't have minded at all,--I like cushions; but to stand there holding it, waiting for me to give him permission, struck me as being very silly. I knew he expected me to say yes, and instead of that I found myself saying, "No, I thank you,"--I could hear that my tone was snippy,--"I can get on very comfortably without a cushion." Our boys, or Max, or even Murray Unsworth would have said, "Oh, come now, Betty!" and just slipped the cushion behind me, and I'd have enjoyed it, and made no more fuss. But not so this individual. He looked helplessly at me for a minute, then laid the cushion down on his mother's travelling satchel; and there it reclined until we reached Boston.

'Twas the same way with getting me things to eat. With all the excitement that morning, I had very little appet.i.te for breakfast, so by lunch time I was _very_ hungry; and when Mrs. Erveng opened her box of sandwiches, I felt as if I could have eaten every one in it,--but of course I didn't. They were delicious; but, oh, so small and thin!

Mr. Erveng did not take any,--he never takes a mid-day meal. Mrs.

Erveng ate two, trifling with the second one as if tired of it. I ate three,--when a _dozen_ would not have been too many! Hilliard disposed of four, and then went out to get his mother a cup of tea,--I suspect he had something more to eat in the restaurant. He asked, in a tone as if he meant it, "Mayn't I bring you a cup of tea?"

But I despise tea, so I answered, "No, I thank you," for the second time. Mr. and Mrs. Erveng were talking to an acquaintance who had come up, and actually Hilliard hadn't the sense to offer me anything else, and I _couldn't_ ask. Having sisters is certainly a great thing for a boy, as I've told Jack scores of times; why, for all that he is so shy, Jack could have taken twice as good care of a girl as Hilliard did of me, just because he has had me to train him.

Presently Mrs. Erveng pa.s.sed the lunch box over to me. "_Do_ take another sandwich, Betty," she said kindly, "and some cake."

But by this time no one else in the car was eating, and I didn't want to be the only person,--I hate to have people stare at me while I'm eating,--so I refused. The open box remained by me for some time,--'twas all I could do to keep from putting out my hand for a sandwich; then the porter came by, and Mr. Erveng handed it to him to take away.

Hilliard talked to me as we flew along, in his deliberate, grown-up way, but pleasantly; if I had not been so hungry and homesick, I might have been interested. But by and by the hunger wore off, and by the time we reached Endicott Beach I had a raving headache; but I said nothing about it until after dinner, for Mrs. Erveng was so tired out that she had to be looked after and got to bed the very first thing, and that made a little fuss, though her maid Dillon, who had come on the day before, was there to a.s.sist her.

The house is very prettily furnished and arranged,--almost as prettily but more simply than Mrs. Erveng's rooms in New York.

After dinner Hilliard showed me a little of the place, which is _very_ pretty, and quite unlike anywhere else that I have been. There's a queer scraggly old garden at the back of the house, and in front a splendid view of the beach, with the ocean rolling up great booming waves. Before very long I got to like Endicott Beach very much; but this first afternoon, though the sunset was most gorgeous, I felt so miserable that I could take interest in nothing. Oh, how I longed for home!

Presently Hilliard said, "I'm afraid you are dreadfully tired,--you look so pale. I should have waited until to-morrow to show you the place; I have been inconsiderate--"

"I have a headache," I broke in shortly; then all at once my lips began to tremble. "I wish I were at home!" I found myself exclaiming; and then the tears came pouring down my face.

"Oh, I am so sorry! so _very_ sorry! What can I do for you?" began Hilliard. "Oh! mayn't I--"

I was so mortified that I got very mad; I hate to cry, any way, and above all before this stiff wooden boy! I threw my hands over my face, and turning my back on him, started for the house, walking as fast as I could, stumbling sometimes on the uneven beach.

But Hilliard followed close behind me. "I'm _so_ sorry!" he repeated.

"Why didn't you let me know sooner? May I--"

I got so provoked that I wheeled round suddenly on him,--I think I startled him. "Oh, _do_ stop _asking_ people if you 'may' or 'mayn't do things for them,"--I'm afraid that here I mimicked his tone of voice.

"_Do_ the things first, and then ask,--if you must. I declare, you don't know the very first thing about taking care of a girl; why, our Paul could do better."

Hilliard stood stock still and stared at me; his sleepy eyes were wide open, and there was such a bewildered expression on his face that it just set me off laughing, in spite of the tears on my cheeks, and my headache.

"I am exceedingly sorry if I have neglected--" he began stiffly; but before he could say any more I turned and fled.

I fancied I heard his footsteps behind me, and I fairly flew along the beach, into the house, and up to my room, where I began undressing as quickly as I could. But before I was ready for bed, Mrs. Erveng's maid brought a message from her mistress. She was so sorry to hear that I was not well; was there nothing that she could do for me? "Please say that I am going to bed; that will cure my headache quicker than anything else," I called through the keyhole, instead of opening the door. I had a feeling that the Ervengs would think me a crank; but I had got to that pitch that afternoon where I didn't care what anybody thought of me.

Then Dillon went away, and I got into bed.

But I couldn't sleep for ever so long: you see the sun had not yet set, and I'm not used to going to sleep in broad daylight; besides, I was very unhappy. As I lay there looking at the brilliant colours of the sky, I thought over what I had said to Hilliard, and the oftener I went over it, the more uncomfortable I got; for I began to see that I'd been very rude--to insult the people I was visiting! I wondered if Hilliard had told his mother what I said; and what she thought of me? Would she send me home? I had declared to Nora that I would behave so badly as to be sent home before the visit was over, but I had not really meant it. I got all worked up over the horrid affair, and if I had had then enough money to pay my expenses to New York, I really think I should have been tempted to climb out of the window, or make my escape in some way or other,--I dreaded so having to face the Ervengs in the morning.

After a long while I fell asleep, and dreamed that Mr. and Mrs. Erveng were holding me fast, while Hilliard stuffed sandwiches down my throat.

But by the next morning my headache was gone, and the sunshine and beautiful view from my window made me feel a new person, though I still dreaded meeting the Ervengs. Usually I dress quickly, but this morning I just dawdled, to put off the evil moment as long as possible. It seemed so strange not to have Nannie, or Miss Marston, or Nora, or any one to tell me what to say or do; I really felt lost without dear old Nannie. I would have been delighted to see her that morning,--we have such nice talks at home while we are dressing!

Before I left home, Nora said particularly, "Now, Betty, _do_ remember that your ginghams are for the mornings and your thinner gowns for the afternoons. Don't put on the first frock that comes to your hand, regardless of whether it is flannel, gingham, or _organdi_. You know you haven't a great many clothes, so _please_, I beg of you, for the reputation of the family, take care of them, or you will not have a decent thing to wear two weeks after you get to the Ervengs'."

I was provoked at her for saying this, but I could not resent it very much, for--though I love pretty things as well as anybody does--somehow accidents _are_ always happening to my clothes. Nurse says it's because I am too heedless to think about what I have on, and perhaps it is: yet, when I remember, and try to be careful, I'm simply _miserable_; and it does seem too silly to make one's self uncomfortable for clothes,--so I generally forget.

But this morning I looked carefully over the ginghams that Dillon had unpacked and hung in the closet in my room, and finally, taking down the one I considered the prettiest, I put it on; I wished afterward that I had chosen the plainest and ugliest.

As I said, I was taking as much time as possible over my dressing, when I happened to think that breakfast might be ready, and the Ervengs waiting for me,--papa says "to be late at meals, particularly when visiting, is _extremely_ ill-bred;" then I rushed through the rest of my toilet, and raced down the stairs, not thinking of Mrs. Erveng's headache until I reached the foot of the steps.

I was relieved to find no one in the parlour, or in the room across the hall, where the table was set for breakfast. But as I stepped out on the broad front piazza, Hilliard rose from the hammock in which he had been lying, and came forward with such a pleasant "Good-morning!" that I felt surprised and ashamed.