Betty's Happy Year Read online

  X BETTY CRUSOE

  It happened most conveniently that when Betty was invited to spend a dayand a night at Lena Carey's, her mother was also just about to go for ashort visit to a friend who lived only a few stations beyond, on the samerailroad.

  "So we can start together," said Betty, gleefully, "and then I can getoff at Pleasant Hill, and you can go on to Mapleton."

  "You're sure they'll meet you at the station?" said Mrs. McGuire.

  "Oh, yes, indeed. Lena wrote that they would meet me in their newmotor-car. I shall take only a suitcase,--that will hold enough clothesfor such a short stay,--then I won't have to bother with a trunk."

  So Betty packed a pretty organdie afternoon dress, a dainty chiffonevening frock, and her night things, and the two travelers started on anearly morning train.

  The Careys were in their summer home at Pleasant Hill, and, afterspending the night there, Betty was to go on next day and join her motherat Mapleton.

  The arrangement was satisfactory, as Betty would have to travel aloneonly the few miles that separated the two places.

  It was a lovely day, and in her neat blue traveling-suit and straw hatBetty was a very pretty and contented-looking little tourist. Shechattered to her mother all the way, and when the train stopped atPleasant Hill, she kissed Mrs. McGuire good-by, and followed the porter,who carried her suitcase from the car.

  Betty watched the cars round the curve, and then turned to look for theCarey motor. She didn't see it at first, but, as the railroad station wasset rather high, and there were steps near by, she assumed the street wasbelow the street-level and she must go down the stairs.

  But it did seem as if Lena might have come down to welcome her, for astrange railroad station is always a bit confusing to a new-comer.

  Not seeing a porter, or indeed any one, about, Betty picked up hersuitcase and started down the stairs.

  At the bottom she saw a pleasant shaded road, but very few signs ofcivilization. However, Lena had told her that Pleasant Hill was merely a"jumping-off place," but that their own cottage there was delightful.

  Betty didn't mind the lack of people or buildings in general, but she didmind the absence of the Careys. She couldn't understand it, for she knewshe was expected; but she concluded they must have been delayed for somereason, and she had nothing to do but wait.

  Just at that moment, she saw a man driving by in an old farm-wagon.

  "Wait a minute!" she called, for he was nearly past.

  "Hey! what do you want?" the man called back, but he stopped his team,and waited as Betty came down the steps.

  "Excuse me," she said politely, "but have you seen a motor-car around thestation?"

  The man ruminated.

  "Wal, no, miss, I hevn't. Leastwise, not to-day."

  "But I mean to-day--just now. I'm expecting the Careys to meet me. I justcame on the train."

  "Ye did, hey? Well, that 'ere train was a good half-hour late. So, if sobe's them Careys was here, like as not they got tired o' waitin' an' wentaway again."

  "Where is the Carey place, do you know?"

  "Wal, yes'm, I do know. It's a matter o' three miles along the hill road.I'll take you out thar myself if ye like. It'll cost you a quarter,though--and I'm not very busy."

  So she climbed up on the wagon-seat, and the old farmer turned his horseand off they went.

  It was mostly uphill, and therefore slow going, but at last they came insight of a white house nestling in a tangle of green shrubbery and brightflowers.

  "How pretty!" exclaimed Betty; "is that the Carey place?"

  "It be," vouchsafed the taciturn one, and Betty asked no furtherquestions.

  They drove in at the green, arched entrance, and up a winding road to thehouse. It was a truly summery dwelling, with large windows, wideverandas, screens and awnings.

  The farmer climbed slowly down from his seat, slowly took Betty'ssuitcase and set it on the porch.

  Leaving her suitcase on the steps, she went up on the porch and rang thedoor-bell.

  While awaiting an answer she let her gaze stray over the surroundinglandscape.

  It was wonderfully beautiful, and, as Betty had a passion for pure color,the clear cobalt sky, the various bright and deep greens of the trees,the smooth gray of a little lake, and the purple of the distant hillsthrilled her color-loving soul.

  "They couldn't have found a lovelier spot," thought Betty, "and," sheadded to herself, "if ever I find them, I'll tell them so."

  Her ring at the bell had not been answered, and she turned back to thefront door to find it as tightly closed as ever.

  "Well, I like the Careys' notions of hospitality," she said grimly, asshe rang the bell again, this time somewhat more forcibly.

  Still the door did not open, and Betty felt decidedly puzzled.

  Again she rang the bell, and could hear for herself its long, buzzingring. But nobody answered it, and though she felt sure everything wouldsoon be all right, yet she began to feel a little queer.

  "I know it's the right house," she thought, "for here's Lena's fan in thehammock. That's the fan I gave her, so she must have left the houselately."

  Greatly puzzled, Betty went around to the back part of the house.

  She knocked and banged on the kitchen door, but received no response ofany sort. She tried the door, but it was evidently locked and would notopen.

  She peered in at a window, but all she could see was some dishes piled onthe kitchen table.

  "Well, I do declare!" she said aloud, "if this isn't a lovely way toreceive an invited guest!"

  Though unwilling to admit it, even to herself, Betty was feelingdecidedly disturbed. There was a mistake somewhere, that was quiteevident. She knew the mistake was not hers, for Lena had written carefuldirections about her journey, and had said the motor would meet thetrain.

  Resolving to ring the bell again, Betty went slowly back to the frontdoor.

  The landscape did not appear quite so attractive as it had at first, andBetty was conscious of a queer depression about her heart.

  "I'm not scared!" she assured herself; "I won't be scared! They _must_ bein the house. Perhaps they're--perhaps they're cleaning the attic!"Though not very probable, this seemed a possibility, and Betty pushed thebell with force enough to summon even people busily absorbed in work. Butnobody came, and in despair Betty gave up the attic theory.

  Half involuntarily, for she had no thought of its being unlocked, sheturned the knob of the front door. To her surprise, it opened readily,and she stepped inside.

  "Well, for goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. "Now, they must be at home, orthey would have locked the front door."

  Then she called: "Lena! Lena, where are you?"

  But no one answered, and her voice reverberated in what was unmistakablyan empty house.

  Betty gave a little shiver. There is something uncanny in being the onlyoccupant of a strange house.

  An undefined sense of fear took possession of her, and she stoodhesitating in the hall, almost determined to go no farther.

  Had it been a dull, cloudy day, or nearing dusk, she would have scurriedout, but in the bright, cheerful sunlight it seemed absurd to feelafraid.

  Still, it was with a loudly beating heart that she stepped into a largeroom opening off the hall.

  It was evidently the family living-room, and the familiar things aboutreassured her somewhat.

  Several books which she looked into bore Lena's name on the fly-leaf, anda light shawl, which she recognized as Mrs. Carey's, was flung carelesslyover a chair-back. Somehow these homelike touches comforted Betty, andshe ventured further explorations.

  The dining-room was in order, and Betty could not tell whether any onehad eaten recently or not. But in the kitchen pantry she noted remnantsof breakfasts, which were fresh enough to denote having been placed therethat morning. The ice-box showed fresh milk and various cold viands, andwhen Betty discovered that the kitchen clock was t
icking, she concludedthat all was well.

  "For it's one of those little tin clocks," she observed, "that have to bewound every day. So the Careys have just stepped out since breakfast, butwhy they took all the servants with them, I don't know. Family picnic, Isuppose, with no thought of their arriving guest!"

  Wandering back to the front rooms, Betty started to go up-stairs, andthen stopped. Suppose something awful had happened!

  She paused with her foot on the lowest stair.

  "Lena!" she called again, "Lena!"

  But there was no answer, and, with a sudden impulse of bravery, Betty ranup-stairs and peeped into the first bedroom she came to. It was, withoutdoubt, Lena's own room.

  She recognised her kimono flung on the bed, and her little Japaneseslippers, which had evidently been kicked off across the room. SurelyLena had dressed in a hurry.

  Cheered by these visible signs of her friend's recent presence here,Betty went on through the other rooms.

  She found nothing unusual, merely the sleeping-rooms of the Carey family,fairly tidy, but by no means in spick-and-span order.

  In fact, they looked as if the whole family had gone away in haste.

  "To meet me at the station, I suppose," cogitated Betty. "Well, I'm here,and I can't help it, so I may as well make myself at home. I think I'llbring my suitcase up, and select a room, and put on a cooler dress."

  She went down-stairs more blithely than she had come up. It was all verymysterious, to be sure, but there had been no tragedy, and the Careysmust come back soon, wherever they might have gone.

  She paused again in the living-room, and sitting down at the open piano,she sang a few lively little songs.

  Then, feeling quite merry over her strange experience, she went out tothe front porch for her suitcase.

  It was just where she had left it. Nobody was in sight. She gazed againover the lovely, serene landscape, and, taking the suitcase, she went,singing, up-stairs.

  The guest-room was easily recognized and Betty felt at liberty toappropriate it for her own use. She was an invited guest, and if nohostess or servant was present to conduct her to her room, she must lookafter her own rights.

  "I'm just like Robinson Crusoe," she chuckled to herself. "I'm strandedon a desert island, with not a human being near. But, luckily, there'sfood in the pantry, for really, with all these exciting experiences, I'mgetting hungry."

  She opened her suitcase and shook out her pretty dresses. Then shechanged her traveling-frock for the light organdie, and having bathed,and brushed her hair, she felt rather better.

  "Well, it's nearly noon," she said, looking at her watch, "and, as I'veno one to consult but myself, I may as well have an early luncheon. Ifthe Careys come in while I'm eating, I'll invite them to lunch with me."

  So down-stairs Betty went, smiling to think of herself as Betty Crusoe.

  But as she passed the door of the living-room and glanced inside, hersmile faded.

  Her eyes grew big with amazement, her cheeks turned pale, and a shiver offear shook her.

  On the table lay a man's hat!

  "It _couldn't_ have been there when I was in here before," she thought,"for I looked into those books, and now the hat's on top of them!"

  It was a forlorn old hat, of light-gray felt, but soiled and torn, andBetty's frightened heart told her that it was the hat of some marauder,and not of any member of the Carey family.

  With a sudden scream, which she could not repress, she ran and hid behinda large Japanese screen in the corner of the room.

  "Who's there?" called a man's voice from the hall. It was a loud, gruffvoice, and poor Betty shook and shivered as she crouched behind thescreen.

  "Who's there?" repeated the voice, and Betty heard heavy footsteps comingin at the living-room door.

  Then there was silence. The man was apparently awaiting Betty's nextmove. Then he said again: "Who screamed just now? Where are you?" andsomehow this time his voice did not sound quite so ferocious. But Bettyhad no intention of answering, and she squeezed into her corner, hopingthat he would go away.

  Then suddenly the whimsical idea came to her that, as she was personatingRobinson Crusoe, this was probably the Man Friday who had arrived. Thisamused her so much that she giggled in spite of her fear. The man heardthe smothered sound, and going straight to the screen, he pulled itsuddenly away.

  Betty, who was sitting on the floor, looked up to see a stalwart youngman of a college type staring down at her. His costume of summer outingclothes was informal, but at once betokened he was no marauder. Also, hishandsome, sunburnt face and frank blue eyes showed a kindly thoughsurprised expression.

  Betty was reassured at once, and, truly glad to see a human being of herown walk in life, her face broke into smiles and merry dimples, as shesaid:

  "Hello, Man Friday!"

  "Who are you?" was his bewildered response, and then remembering himself,he added: "I beg your pardon; may I assist you to rise?"

  He took Betty's hand, and in a moment she had jumped up from hercrouching position, and stood facing him.

  "I'm Betty Crusoe," she said; "I'm stranded on a desert island, and ifyou're Man Friday, I hope you'll protect me from cannibals or bears orwhatever wild beasts abound here."

  "Oh, I know you," said the young man, smiling. "You're Miss BettyMcGuire."

  "I am. I'm a guest of the Careys--only--the Careys don't seem to behere!"

  "No, they're not. I'm Hal Pennington, at your service. I'm called Pen orPenny for short,--sometimes Bad Penny."

  "I'm sure that's a libel," said Betty, smiling at his kind, honest face.

  "It is, I assure you, for I'm good as gold. Well, I, too, am a guest ofthe Careys, and, as you so cleverly observe, they don't seem to be here!"

  "Where are they?"

  "Well, you see it was this way. All the servants took it into theirfoolish heads to leave at once. They decamped last night. So this morningthe Careys started off in the motor-car to bring home a lot of new ones."

  "But why didn't they come to the station for me, as they arranged?"

  "Oh, they telegraphed you last night not to come till next week."

  "And I didn't get the telegram!"

  "Thus that explains all! How did you get here?"

  "In a rumbly old wagon of a kind farmer. The front door wasn't locked, soI walked in and made myself at home. Are you staying here?"

  "Yes, for a week. I'm sketching some bits of woodland, and I stayed athome to-day rather than go with them to stalk servants. Now, let mesee,--this is rather a complicated situation. Shall I, by virtue of priorresidence, be host and welcome you as my visitor, or would you ratherappropriate the house as your own, and let me be your guest?"

  His jolly, boyish face seemed to show that he thought the whole affair agreat joke, and Betty fell into the spirit of it.

  "When do the Careys return?" she asked.

  "Mrs. Carey said they'd surely be home by three o'clock, and I couldforage in the pantry to keep myself from starving."

  "All right," said Betty; "I'll be hostess, then, until she comes. You'veheard Lena speak of me?"

  "Gracious, yes! I've heard you so highly lauded that I doubt if you canlive up to the angelic reputation she gives you!"

  "Oh, yes, I can," said Betty, laughing. "Now I'll be Betty Crusoe, andthis house is my desert island. You're Man Friday, and you must doexactly as I say."

  "I live but to obey your decrees," said young Pennington, with a deepbow.

  "Good! Now, first of all, I'm starving. Are you?"

  "I even starve at your command. I am famished."

  "I believe you are, really. Let's see what we can find."

  Together they went to the pantry, and found cold chicken and peach-pie, abowl of custard, and various odds and ends of tempting-looking dishes.

  "Let's set the table first," cried Betty, gleefully. "Do you know wherethe dishes are?"

  "I've never really set the table," Pennington said, "but I'm quite surethe dishes are in the sideboar
d or the glass cupboard."

  "How clever you are!" said Betty, laughingly; "I do believe you'reright!"

  They easily found linen, silver, and glass, and Betty set the tabledaintily for two.

  "Now," she said, "I'll get the luncheon. A man's only a bother in thekitchen. You go and do your sketching until I call you."

  But Hal Pennington was not so easily disposed of.

  "No," he said; "I'll gather some flowers, and then I'll arrange them as adecoration for our feast."

  "Do," said Betty, "that will be lovely!"

  Hal went out to the garden, and returned with gay blossoms, which hearranged deftly and with good taste on the table.

  "What are you doing?" he said a little later, as he drifted into thekitchen, where Betty, with her sleeves rolled back, was whisking away atsomething in a bowl.

  "Making a salad; don't you like it?"

  "Love it! Let me help."

  "You can't help, I tell you. Go away, Man Friday, until I call you."

  "No, please let me help," coaxed Hal. "I just love to cook. Pooh, maybeyou think I don't know how! See here, I'll make an omelet!"

  Before Betty knew what he was about he had broken several eggs into abowl.

  "Oh, don't!" she cried, laughing at his misdirected energy. "We don'twant an omelet! We've bushels of things to eat already!"

  "Then I'll make coffee," said Hal, quite unabashed. "These eggs will dofor coffee just as well."

  "Not six of them, goose!" cried Betty.

  "Why, yes, you always put eggs in coffee."

  "Oh, just one, or part of one, to clear it!"

  "Well, if one's good, more's better; anyway, I'm going to make coffee."

  Taking a white apron from a nail, Hal tied it round himself, andproceeded to make what turned out to be really good coffee, though heused only a small portion of the eggs in it.

  "You are a good cook," said Betty, as she watched his experiencedmovements.

  "Sure! I learned how in camp. All our fellows know how to cook."

  The luncheon was daintily served. Betty had garnished the salad withnasturtium leaves and red blossoms, and edged the platter of cold chickenwith a wreath of parsley.

  They had taken out the Careys' best china and cut glass, and the tablelooked lovely indeed.

  "My! What a spread!" said Hal, looking admiringly at it. "I didn'tsuppose you could do things like that."

  "Why not?" said Betty, turning wondering eyes on him. "What made youthink I couldn't?"

  Hal reddened a little, but said honestly:

  "'Cause Lena said you're such a fearfully rich girl, and I sort ofthought you'd be--oh, you know--above fussing in the kitchen."

  Betty laughed merrily.

  "I love fussing in the kitchen," she said, "and I think every girl oughtto know how to cook. At least she ought to have sense enough to gettogether a cold luncheon like this when everything's provided."

  "Yes, I know; but you've made everything look so pretty. I want to eatdishes and all!"

  Betty dimpled with pleasure at his praise, and they sat down to thepretty feast, to which they did full justice.

  "I wonder when the Careys will come," Betty remarked, as they lingeredover the coffee.

  "I wish they'd never come," said Hal. "I think it would be fine if wewere really castaways, and nobody ever came to rescue us. Just likeRobinson Crusoe and his Man Friday."

  "But we haven't any goat," said Betty, laughing. "The goat was one of theprincipal characters, you know."

  "Well, likely a goat would wander in some day. I say, can you sing?"

  "Yes," said Betty, smiling as she thought of how she had sung when shefirst entered the house; "I sing some songs pretty well."

  "I wager you do. Let's go in by the piano and sing duets."

  "Didn't you hear me singing this morning? I sat down at the piano when Ifirst arrived."

  "No; I was out sketching. I only came in the house a few minutes before Ifound you."

  "Let me see your pictures, won't you?"

  "Sometime, yes. Let's go and sing now."

  "No, we must clear the table first. It's so untidy to leave it. But youneedn't do it; I hate to see a boy doing girl's work."

  "Oh, pshaw, it isn't girl's work exactly, if you play you're camping orpicnicking or something like that. I'm going to help, and you can't stopme!"

  Hal had begun already to take out the dishes, and Betty gave him a mocksigh, as she said:

  "I don't think my Man Friday obeys me as well as he promised to."

  "'Cause I only obey when I want to," he responded, and in a short timethe table was cleared and the food put away.

  "We won't wash the dishes," said Betty, as she piled them neatly on thekitchen table. "If Mrs. Carey's going to bring a lot of servants at threeo'clock, they'll want something to do."

  So they went to the piano, and soon discovered that they knew a number ofthe same songs.

  Hal had a good voice, and they sang away with all their youthfulenthusiasm, making such a volume of sound that it could be heard abovethe chug-chugging of the approaching motor-car.

  "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Lena, as they whizzed up to the house."That's surely Betty McGuire's voice! No one else sings like that."

  "And that's Hal singing with her," said Mrs. Carey, as a masculine voiceblended with Betty's soprano.

  Then Lena sprang from the car, and rushed to greet Betty, and all sortsof apologies and explanations followed.

  "I'm not a bit sorry!" said Hal, as Mrs. Carey reiterated her regret atthe misunderstanding; "I've had a jolly time, and now Lena's come I don'tsuppose I'll be able to get a word in edgewise with Betty Crusoe, all theevening!"

  "You will, if I have anything to say about it," said Betty, flashing oneof her brightest smiles at her Man Friday.