Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore | Page 9

"Goosie!" she cried, "when will you learn that I don't always mean
all that I say! Old Sharp-eyes didn't really open my bundle. Come over
here and see what was hidden in it."
She opened the parcel of gaily-flowered cotton, and began to unfold the
goods.
"There!" she cried when the last fold was loosed, and six packages
were proudly displayed.
"Good gracious!" cried Arabella, "I don't see how you got inside the
door with all those things, for I saw her pinching your bundle, and
you'd think that she must have felt those little parcels even if they were
wrapped inside that cloth."
"Well, you may be very sure she didn't feel them, for if she had, I'd
never had them to show you."
It was, indeed, a fixed rule at Glenmore that pupils, except by special
permission, should bring no food into the building, the reason being
that plenty of good food was provided at meal times, and eating
between meals was forbidden.
Patricia's idea of a "treat" was a variety of all sorts, but never a thought
had she as to whether the articles that she chose would combine well.
Arabella, often annoyed with indigestion, gazed at the "treat" that
Patricia had placed upon the little table, and wondered how she would
feel when she had eaten her share.
And eat it she must, for Patricia never would forgive her if she did not.
More than that, she must not refuse anything, because Patricia would
consider that a sure sign that her "treat" had failed to please, and for a
week at least, would talk of Arabella as ungrateful.
* * * * *

In a room farther up the corridor, Vera and Elf were laughing and
chuckling over much the same trick as that which Patricia had played,
only that Vera and Elf had brought a huge parcel into the house, and
had not been questioned regarding it.
It was late afternoon when Vera had returned from the village. Dorothy
saw her far up the road, and wondered why she walked so slowly, but
as she neared the gateway, it was evident that she carried a heavy
parcel. Her storm-coat had a deep cape, but it only partly hid the
bundle.
She looked up toward the window where Dorothy stood, laughed, and
made a gesture to indicate that she was going around to the rear of the
house.
"Nancy, what do you suppose the girls are up to?"
"Vera has just come from the village with a bundle twice as big as the
one Miss Fenler found Patricia bringing in, and she has gone around
toward the back door with it."
"She's trying to dodge Miss Fenler," Nancy said.
"But, Nancy, she can't get to her room from the back way. The back
door leads into the kitchen. There's no back stairway."
"I know that," Nancy said, "but Vera isn't going around the house for
the sake of a walk. She's intending to get in the back way I do believe. I
wonder if she has coaxed one of the maids to help her. Come on, down
the hall to the big window that has a balcony under it. We'll see if she
really gets in."
Dorothy clasped Nancy's outstretched hand and they ran softly along
the hall, reaching the window just in time to see a bulky-looking bundle
swinging from a rope, and occasionally bumping against the house as it
made its way slowly upward.
On the ground stood Vera eagerly looking up, while, from the window

of their room Elf reached out, desperately struggling to draw the heavy
bundle up to the window sill.
"Don't stand there looking up at me!" she said in a voice hardly above a
whisper. "Come up here before somebody sees you." Vera lost no time
in doing as Elf said, while Dorothy and Nancy wasted not a moment,
but sped down the hall, and once safely in their room, sat down,
laughing at what they had seen.
Meanwhile, Vera raced along the hall, and into her room, flew to the
window and soon the precious bundle lay on the floor, the two girls
bending over it.
"Oo-oo! Cream-cakes! A box of fudge, frosted cake!" cried Elf, then.
"What's in this tin can?"
"Oysters," said Vera, "and we'll have a hot stew to-night after every one
is in bed!"
"My! But how can we cook it?" Elf asked.
"In the can," said Vera. "That's easy 'nough. There's a pint of oysters,
and three pints of milk all shaken up together in that two-quart can. We
can heat it over the gas jet. I'm sure they'll cook all right."
"Why, Vera Vane! It will take hours to make it boil over that gas jet. I
guess we'll enjoy taking turns holding it,