Dorothy's Tour
“And, dear,” said Aunt Betty, “you know, Dorothy, the people go to the concerts to hear you play, not to see what you wear and I have always liked my little girl best in just this kind of white dress. Now, dear, go down and practice awhile so as you will be able to play just the best you know how to when you go to Herr Deichenberg to take your lesson. For, Dorothy, you will not have many more lessons from Herr before you go away. And maybe if we finish up some of this sewing I will let Alfaretta go with you to Herr’s for your lesson. Frau Deichenberg said that Herr was not feeling very well and had a bad cough, so that when I was there night before last she said, ‘Maybe Miss Dorothy would not mind coming here for her lesson.’ I told her you would come.”
With that Dorothy walked slowly from the room, very much worried about her dear Herr Deichenberg, as she knew he was getting old and was afraid his cough might develop into something worse. She reached the music room and practiced faithfully for more than an hour.
When she had put the violin away and was about to leave the music room, some one called her. She turned and saw Jim on the veranda outside the window, and crossing the room and lifting up the French sash she said, “What is it, Jim?”
“I just wanted to tell you something,” the boy answered. “While you were practicing, Gerald Banks came up here in his automobile. He wanted to see you. I told him he couldn’t as you were very busy practicing.”
Dorothy liked to have Jim assume authority over her in this manner, and questioned gayly: “Well, Father Jim, what did he want?”
“He just wanted to take you autoing in the morning,” Jim replied, “so I went upstairs to Aunt Betty and told her.”
“Dear, thoughtful Jim,” interrupted Dorothy. “What did Aunt Betty have to say?”
“Aunt Betty said,” replied Jim, “that he could come around about ten o’clock to-morrow morning and take you and Alfy to Herr Deichenberg’s when you could take your lesson. Then – well, I guess I won’t tell you. I will let you be surprised. You wait and see!”
“Oh, Jim! Please, please tell me? I must know now, really I must. Please, please,” begged Dorothy.
“I shan’t tell,” remarked Jim, slowly walking away from her.
“Jim! Jim!” called Dorothy, running after him. “Dear Jim, please, please tell me.”
“Girls certainly are curious creatures,” soliloquized Jim, as Dorothy had turned on her heel and was walking quickly toward the door, saying to herself, but loud enough for Jim to hear, “Well, Aunt Betty will tell me, I’m sure.”
“Aunt Betty. Oh, Aunt Betty!” called Dorothy as she burst into the sewing room where Aunt Betty and Alfy were still sewing. “Jim says – oh, I mean, you must tell me what the surprise is for to-morrow. He said Gerald would take me to Herr Deichenberg’s for my lesson in the morning and then he wouldn’t tell me any more.”
“Well, can’t my little girl wait till then and see what more, for herself? That’s much better than having some one tell you,” remonstrated Aunt Betty.
“I’ll tell you, Dorothy,” said Alfy.
“You will?” interrupted Dorothy, “you dear.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Dorothy. I was going to say – what was I going to say?” said Alfy. “I know. I said I’d tell you – well, I meant to say I would tell you that a surprise isn’t a surprise if you know beforehand.”
“I thought you were going to tell me,” remarked Dorothy, “but you didn’t even intend to.”
“I guess my little girl will have to wait,” severely murmured Aunt Betty, kissing Dorothy, who by this time was standing very near her aunt’s chair.
“Well,” said Dorothy, “I guess I shall have to.” So she sat down and took up her sewing again.
All three carefully sewed in silence for some time till Aunt Betty said: “Dorothy, girl, I think you could try on this dress, now.”
“Certainly,” replied Dorothy. “I am sure I ought to be quite willing.”
Aunt Betty and Alfy fitted the dress carefully, altering the seams in the shoulders and cutting out the neck some. Before they had stopped sewing they had nearly finished this dress and had two others well under way.
Putting away their sewing carefully so as they could start again early in the morning, they all went to their rooms to dress for dinner.
They had a quiet meal after which Dorothy played for them awhile, and then they all sang songs, each choosing the songs they liked best. Thus they spent a quiet but most enjoyable evening. They retired early as Alfy was quite tired after her long journey and wanted to get a good night’s sleep.
They had an early breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup of which Alfy was very fond, and soon after, the three were busy again in the sewing room. There they stayed, quietly working and talking, Alfy telling of the little Babcocks, till it was time for the girls to get ready for the automobile ride. Dorothy had apparently forgotten all about the surprise for she never even mentioned it at all.
“Alfy,” said Dorothy, when they were most ready, “when we get to Herr Deichenberg’s you must be very quiet as I take my lesson and not say anything at all. You know Herr does not like to be disturbed while he gives a lesson. You will find many curious things to look at, and if you want to ask about any of them, you just remember what you want to ask about and tell me after.”
Alfy promised, and in a few minutes the girls heard Gerald toot his automobile horn. Quickly they ran, waving good-bye and throwing kisses to Aunt Betty, who was looking out of the second story window. With Jim seated beside Gerald, they started.
Dorothy told Gerald the direction to take and after a very short time they drew up at Herr Deichenberg’s little cottage. The girls descended and bade Jim and Gerald good-bye.
“Oh, Dorothy,” Gerald called back, “when shall I return for you?”
Dorothy, greatly surprised, questioned, “You are coming back, Gerald?”
“Surely.”
“Oh, goody, goody. Be here at twelve o’clock. That will bring us back home in time for lunch at one o’clock.”
Alfy, who thought the previous ride had been to short altogether, exclaimed “Oh, I’m so, so, so glad. We can have another ride. Oh, Dorothy, I do just love automobiling, I really do.”
Frau Deichenberg came to the door just then and ushered the two girls into the cozy living-room where they laid aside their wraps. “Herr is in the studio,” murmured Frau. “He is awaiting you there, Miss Dorothy.”
“I’ll go right up,” answered Dorothy. “Now Frau Deichenberg, do not bother with Alfy at all. She can amuse herself till I finish.” With that Dorothy ascended the stairs and Frau, after excusing herself by saying she must tend dinner as they always had dinner at noon – Herr wanted it so – left Alfy alone.
Alfy roamed about the room and examined all kinds of curios, – queer baskets, curious vases, old fans and precious paintings and etchings. So quickly did the time pass that she never noticed Dorothy as she came into the room.
“Well, Alfy, all ready to go home?” chirped Dorothy from behind her.
“Well, well, I never knew you were through. When did you come into the room, just now?” asked Alfy.
“Yes, Alfy, just now, and if I’m not mistaken, there is Gerald tooting his horn outside – he must be hailing us,” remarked Dorothy. The girls quickly donned their coats, bid good-bye to Frau, and departed.
Dorothy exclaimed in delight, “Look, look, Alfy, its dear Aurora, she must have come too! Oh, you dear, dear girl, I am so glad to see you!” And Dorothy embraced her, fondly kissing her several times. “Alfy, this is Aurora Banks, Gerald’s sister. Aurora, you have heard me speak of Alfaretta many times, I am sure.”
“Oh, I am so glad to know you,” heartily responded Aurora, “Dorothy is always talking of you.”
“Well, Jim, now I know what the surprise is,” laughed Dorothy, “its Aurora.”
“Now, that’s all wrong,” warned Gerald, “altogether wrong.”
“No it isn’t, is it Jim?” remarked Dorothy.
“Well, yes and no,” tactfully put in Jim. “The real surprise is this, – Aunt Betty has ordered a luncheon for all of us, a farewell luncheon for you, Dorothy, and we are all invited; so let’s hurry home. I’m hungry for one.”
“And I – I am most near starved,” cried Alfy.
The young people reached home just as luncheon was ready, and my! what a luncheon it was; all declared there never was a finer.
CHAPTER IV.
IN NEW YORK
“Good-bye – good-bye – dear old Bellevieu,” sang Dorothy. “Good-bye all for a long, long time, for to-day has my career begun.”
Aunt Betty looked sadly at the dear old home and felt very loathe to part from it and its comforts.
Then all, Dorothy, Alfaretta, Jim and Aunt Betty, waved fond farewells to the faithful old force of servitors who stood lined up in the doorway.
“Oh, Jim, boy,” wailed Alfaretta, “we will soon be in New York and then I shall have to say good-bye to you for, goodness only knows how long it will be before I see you again.”
“That’s right, Alfy dear,” replied Jim, “always look for trouble. Just think of the good times we’ll all have in New York before Dorothy really starts to travel.”
“Well, I suppose I might have thought of that, but I didn’t,” answered Alfy.
“There is only a short drive now to the station,” added Aunt Betty, “and I think you could get our tickets, Jim. Take this money and get four tickets for New York on the noon train, I think we have plenty of time to catch it.”
“I am so sorry that Herr and Frau are not with us. I just hate to go without him. It hardly seems right, does it, Aunty,” asked Dorothy.
“You know, Dorothy, that Herr has a very bad cold, and such a cough, I am quite worried about him. He would have come in spite of all that but Frau would not let him. I think Frau Deichenberg did a wise thing in keeping him home,” replied Aunt Betty.
“Seems as if I am not going to have a very happy start,” lamented Dorothy. “I wanted Herr to hear me play and criticise.”
“Dorothy, girl, cheer up. That’s no way to be when you are about to start on a career,” sternly admonished Jim. “You have every reason to be happy.”
In the rush and excitement of getting the tickets and finding out just when and where the train came in, Dorothy forgot her sorrow. They all bid good-bye to Metty, who had driven them to the station and who drove away mourning to himself as he went, “Deedy, deedy. Lonesome, ve’y, ve’y lonesome will ole Bellevieu be wi’out de Misses and de li’le Misses dere.”
They were at last all seated on the train and quickly were speeding toward New York. Dorothy and Alfaretta were sitting together talking happily of the people in the car and of the passing, ever changing scenery. Aunt Betty and Jim were in the seat just in back of them. Suddenly the latter reached into his pocket and procured a letter, handing it to Aunt Betty to read, explaining he had written the Edison Co., of New York, and that that was their answer.
Aunt Betty carefully read the letter through and turning to Jim, asked, “What are you going to do about it, my boy?”
“That’s just what I would like to know,” answered Jim. “I always wanted to go to college, and have saved as much as I could, but I can’t quite see my way clear to go there yet. I have studied very hard all along and have learned a great deal about electricity. The books Mr. Winters left me have helped me very much, but I am very far behind in some subjects required for entrance to college. My languages are very poor as is my history, and I write a very poor hand.”
“Well, Jim,” answered Aunt Betty, “I am sure I do not know just what I would have you do in this case. The offer is for work in the – what department is it?”
“The position is in the department of installation as assistant to the superintendent. The company is a very desirable one to be in. I have heard that they are very fair and that one who works well stands good chances,” replied Jim.
“I think we had better talk this over with someone before you decide one way or the other,” added Aunt Betty. “Maybe Mr. Ludlow could tell us something of it.”
“I would have to live in New York,” remarked Jim, “and where I do not know.”
“I should see that you were well established in your new place before I left New York,” Aunt Betty said.
“You are always so good, Aunt Betty,” answered Jim. “The salary they have offered me is not very large, but is is twenty-five dollars a week.”
“Did Mr. Sterling have anything to do with trying to get you the place, Jim?” asked Aunt Betty.
“Yes and no,” responded Jim. “I used a letter from him for reference.”
“Well,” rejoined Aunt Betty, “I think we had better leave the matter open and not say anything more about it till we talk it over with Mr. Ludlow. Don’t say anything to the girls as yet for it will be quite a surprise for them.”
By this time the train was nearing New York and Dorothy asked Aunt Betty if they had not better get fixed up. Quickly gathering their things together, they left the train to find Mr. Ludlow waiting for them.
Mr. Ludlow expected to take Aunt Betty and Dorothy right to the Martha Washington, where they could stay till Dorothy was ready to start on her tour, but Jim presented a new problem for the Martha Washington was a hotel for ladies only and no men can stay there. So calling a couple of taxicabs, he hustled Dorothy, Aunt Betty and Alfaretta in one, and taking the other with Jim he ordered the man to drive to the Prince Arthur. They reached their destination very quickly and Mr. Ludlow arranged for rooms for all. Leaving them in the possession, so to speak, of a bell-boy, he departed, saying he would see them early in the morning for a little while to tell Dorothy briefly what she would have to do for the next few days.
The bell-boy conducted Alfaretta, Dorothy and Aunt Betty to the seventh floor, where, unlocking a door, he disclosed to them three very nice connecting rooms, and leaving them there he took Jim down the hall a few doors and showed him his room.
Once inside the room, Alfy murmured faintly three or four times, “Oh!”
“What’s the matter, Alfy?” asked Dorothy.
“I just can’t get used to elevators,” replied Alfy. “What nice rooms” – walking through them – “three rooms” – looking at them again – “two bedrooms – one parlor.”
“Two bedrooms and one sitting room,” corrected Dorothy. “You take the single bedroom, Aunt Betty, and Alfy and I can use the double one.”
Alfy picked up her things and took them to the smaller bedroom and taking off her hat and coat and hanging them in the closet, she started immediately to unpack. “What a lovely room ours is,” remarked Alfy, “it’s such a pretty pink and white.”
Aunt Betty took off her things and Dorothy insisted she go in the sitting room and stay there till they had unpacked everything.
Shortly they heard a knock at the door. Alfy ran to open it. It was Jim. Coming into the room, he said, “I have a nice little room, but as I finished unpacking my things I thought I would come in here and see how you were.”
“We are all settled now,” said Aunt Betty. “Dorothy and Alfy have been quite busy. But children, come now, we must all dress for dinner. When you are ready, Jim, come back here.”
Jim was ready in no time, so he went into Dorothy’s sitting room and waited there, reading a magazine. Very shortly the girls were ready and they all descended into the large dining room.
Alfy, clinging to Dorothy’s hand, said, “Oh, Dorothy dear, I am quite scared. What shall I do?”
“Do just as I do,” whispered the more experienced Dorothy, quietly leading Alfy into the room. Odd it is that those accustomed to hotel life are inapt to think of the trepidation of the novice or new comer.
The head waiter conducted them to a table in the corner, then handed them his bill of fare.
“What would you like to have?” Aunt Betty asked Alfaretta.
“Oh, dear, most anything suits me, just what I would like to have I can’t think. I want just what Dorothy orders,” answered Alfy.
“Well, Dorothy girl,” said Aunt Betty, turning to her, “what will it be?”
“I would like – oh, let me see. Can we have oysters, Aunt Betty?” asked Dorothy. “Then steak and baked potatoes. For salad just plain lettuce with French dressing.”
“Yes, that will do very nicely, dear, and we can have ice cream for dessert,” answered Aunt Betty, who gave the order to the waiter. Shortly after they were served and all voted that they were enjoying a delightful repast.
“What kind of ice cream would you like, Alfy?” asked Aunt Betty.
“Strawberry,” promptly answered Alfy, “it’s so nice and pink.” “Chocolate for me,” cried Dorothy. “And for me, too,” joined in Jim. “I think I shall have plain vanilla,” added Aunt Betty, laughing.
When dinner was over and a very pleasant meal it was, they all went up to Dorothy’s sitting room for a quiet evening.
“Oh, Dorothy and Aunt Betty, I had just the best dinner I have ever had. I must, I just must write it all to Ma Babcock, she will sure want to tell it at Liza Jane’s.” With that Alfy crossed the floor and entered her room where she wrote a long, long letter home telling her mother of the wonders of a New York hotel.
“Ting-ling-ling-ling,” bussed the telephone in the hall. Dorothy answered the call saying, “Hello. Oh! Why we are all up here. Where? Oh, yes, in the sitting room. Yes. Yes. Now? All right. Good-bye.” Turning to Aunt Betty, Dorothy said, “It’s Mr. Ludlow.”
“What did he want, dear?” asked Aunt Betty.
“He is coming right up here,” replied Dorothy. “There, that’s him now. Didn’t you hear a knock?” Opening the door she found Mr. Ludlow there. “Come in, Mr. Ludlow.”
Mr. Ludlow came in and deposited his gloves, cane and hat on a vacant space upon the table, then he sat down and turning to Dorothy said: “I suppose, little girl, you are very, very curious to know where you are going to play to-morrow – no, not to-morrow – the next day.”
“Yes, I am,” timidly responded Dorothy.
“Well, I am going to give you a treat. To-morrow I am going to ask Aunt Betty to take all you young folks to a matinee. I hope I have picked out a play that will suit you all. I have chosen ‘Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.’ I suppose you are quite familiar with the little heroine, Dorothy.”
“No, Mr. Ludlow, I am sorry to say I do not know her.”
“Oh dear, Dorothy didn’t I get you the book to read?” asked Aunt Betty.
“Yes, Aunt Betty,” answered Dorothy, “but Molly took it home with her. She wanted something to read on the cars.”
“Well, well, never mind, you will enjoy the play all the more for not having read the story. Here are the seats, Mrs. Calvert. And, Dorothy, I would like you to notice the naturalness of the characters in the play, and profit by it. Naturalness and ease mean a great deal for you, – self possession – poise, my dear.”
“What about the concert? Where is that? When? Here I am asking questions faster than you can answer them,” remarked Dorothy.
“In time, in time, my dear,” responded Mr. Ludlow. “Thursday I will call for you here and take you with me to Carnegie Hall, where, my dear, you will render two pieces. The rest of the concert has been arranged for, and the small part left for you will not scare you, but only help to get you used to playing before large audiences. Now, Dorothy child, what would you like to play? This time you can choose your own pieces.”
“I should like to play what Aunt Betty and Jim like best,” answered Dorothy; “they hear me play oftener than anyone else.”
“My choice is ‘Das Gude vom Lied,’ by Schuman,” replied Aunt Betty.
“And mine is ‘Rondo a capriccio,’ by Beethoven,” said Jim.
“All right, all right, they will suit exactly,” added Mr. Ludlow.
“Mr. Ludlow,” remarked Aunt Betty, “I would like to take up a few minutes of your time when you are finished with Dorothy.”
“I shall be through in just a few minutes, madam,” answered Mr. Ludlow.
“Do you want me to play again in New York?” questioned Dorothy.
“Yes, just once more, my dear,” answered Mr. Ludlow. “That is on Saturday night at the Hippodrome, at 8.15 p. m. It’s a benefit concert for the blind babies of New York. Many famous people are offering their talent. You do not mind playing there, do you? Your future plans we will discuss later, but that will be all for now. No – I shall have to know what you are going to play there. May I suggest that ‘Southern Medley’ you play so well, and one other piece, say Shubert’s ‘Serenade.’ Now have a good time to-morrow and be ready at one o’clock sharp, on Thursday.”
“What I wanted to say, Mr. Ludlow, was concerning Jim. He is thinking of taking a business proposition with the Edison Company as assistant in the department of installation,” added Aunt Betty.
“Why, really, Mrs. Calvert, I hardly know much about that line of business, but judging from hearsay I should say that Jim was very lucky indeed to get such an offer,” answered Mr. Ludlow. “Haven’t you any business friends in New York?”
“Why Mr. Ford, the railroad man might help,” announced Jim from his corner.
“By all means see Mr. Ford,” said Mr. Ludlow. “It’s getting very late and I must go.”
“I will be ready for you in time on Thursday. And thank you, oh so much, for the tickets for to-morrow,” replied Dorothy.
CHAPTER V.
THE CARNEGIE HALL CONCERT
“Oh, dear, what a lazy girl I am. Nine o’clock and I have not had breakfast. What day is it? Thursday, – and Mr. Ludlow coming here at one o’clock. I must hurry for I must practice some,” murmured Dorothy to herself.
“Dorothy girl, are you still in bed?” called Aunt Betty from the next room.
“I’ll be with you in just a minute, Aunty dear. I’m most ready. Oh, Alfy, please help me, – please,” called Dorothy.
“All right,” replied Alfy, “do you need me to do up the back of your dress?”
“Yes, and that’s all. I’m so late. I did want to write Frau this morning, too,” said Dorothy crossly. “Come, let’s go to breakfast.”
After breakfast Dorothy practiced and Aunt Betty and Alfaretta took a walk and visited some of the large stores where they did a little shopping, Aunt Betty buying the girls each a pair of long white gloves and an Irish-lawn collar at Altman’s.
Dorothy was all dressed and waiting for them when they got home. She had on a very simple white dress, one they had made, with just a touch of pink, a small pink bow, at the waist, and a pink hair ribbon. She had practiced the two compositions thoroughly and felt that she knew them perfectly. True, she did feel a slight bit nervous, but in her past experience when she had her violin in her hands she lost self-consciousness and became wrapped up in her music.
“Dorothy,” called Alfy, “we are home, and, see, Aunt Betty bought me these. They are so pretty and I always did want them. I’m so glad I have them. But you go to Aunt Betty, she has something for you.”
“You are a funny girl, Alf,” answered Dorothy. “You have been talking away and I haven’t any idea what you were trying to get at. Aunt Betty, where are you?”
“In the sitting room, dear,” answered Aunt Betty.
“What is Alfy talking about, Aunt Betty?” asked Dorothy, walking into the room.
“This and this,” replied Aunt Betty, holding up two packages. “These are for you, dear.”
Dorothy, taking the two packages and kissing her aunt, murmured: “You dear, dear Aunt Betty. I must see what’s inside.”
She carefully opened the first and exclaimed as she drew forth a long pair of white gloves, “Oh, goody, goody. Just what I have been longing for.” And then opening the second package she found it contained a very beautiful Irish crochetted collar. “Aunt Betty! You dear, dear Aunt Betty. Just think how fine this will look with my gray coat. Just like all the girls we see here in New York. You are the best aunt ever a girl had.”
Dorothy then gathered up her treasures and took them with her into the next room to put them away.
Aunt Betty went into Alfy’s room and said, “Alfy dear, if you will give me your coat I will help you sew the collar on it so you can wear it this afternoon.”
“Oh! that will be fine! I can wear it to the concert. And can I wear the red hair ribbon Ma Babcock bought me from Liza Jane’s?” said Alfy.
“Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling,” rang the telephone bell. Dorothy rushed across the room to answer it and found that Mr. Ludlow was waiting for her below in a taxicab.
“Good-bye, Aunt Betty, dear,” called Dorothy; then running into her Aunt’s room she kissed her several times. “You will all surely come. I do need you all there.”