Elsie Marley, Honey | Page 8

not understand.
"Shake us up in a box, you know," the other explained, her dimples
very conspicuous, "and you come out Elsie Moss and I, Elsie Marley,
without the honey. You go to live with Reverend John Middleton and
I'll go to New York and try to persuade your Cousin Julia to let her
supposed relative study for the stage. What could be better? It's simply

ripping and dead easy. Neither of them has seen either of us. Uncle
John would draw a prize instead of me, and--I'd be awfully good to
your cousin, Elsie-Honey."
Really to grasp a conception so daring and revolutionary took Elsie
Marley some time. But when she had once grasped it, she considered it
seriously. It did not seem to her, even at first, either unreasonable or
impossible. Indeed, influenced by the enthusiasm of the other girl, she
began to feel it both reasonable and fitting. In a way, too, it was only
natural. For after all, the girl had always had her way made smooth for
her, and this appeared only a continuation of that process. She certainly
didn't want to go to Cousin Julia's, and she liked the idea of living in
the quiet parsonage of the aristocratic country town.
Indeed, she agreed to the proposal more readily and unquestioningly
than a girl of more imagination or experience could have done. For her
part, Elsie Moss foresaw certain complications, though in truth only the
most obvious ones. They discussed these gravely, yet with much
confidence. Indeed, an older person must have been both amused and
amazed at the youthfulness, the inexperience, and the ignorance of life
the girls exhibited, at their utter unconsciousness that they were not
qualified to act as responsible human beings and shuffle blood
relationships about like pawns on a chess-board.
"There's certainly nothing about it that even my stepmother could
object to," Elsie Moss concluded. "Nobody's being cheated: they are
both going to get what they would really choose if they had a chance,
and to escape what might be very uncomfortable, and so are we. We're
both Elsies, and about the same age, and have brown eyes: if Uncle
John were to take his pick, wouldn't he take a quiet, dignified, ladylike
Elsie, instead of a harum-scarum one with short hair that was mad for
the stage? And Aunt Milly being rather frail, I should have driven her
to drink, while you're used to an invalid aunt. Isn't it just wonderful?
The more I think of it, the righter it seems. I almost feel now as if it
would be wrong not to do it, don't you?"
Like one in a dream, Elsie Marley assented. She was almost giddy at
the swift flight of the other's imagination. She listened spellbound

while Elsie Moss spun plans, able herself to contribute nothing but
assent and applause. Under skilful questioning, however, she related all
the Pritchard traditions and family history that Cousin Julia might be
expected to be familiar with, and endeavored in a docile manner to
learn enough of Moss and Middleton annals to take her part in the
Middleton household.
Elsie Moss possessed a certain sort of executive ability which enabled
her to make the practical arrangements for carrying through the plan.
Quite self-reliant, she planned to accompany the other to Boston to
make sure that all went well, going thence herself to New York. After
consultation with the conductor in regard to time-tables, she sent a
telegram asking Miss Pritchard to meet a later train. The change in the
destination of their respective luggage was more difficult to effect, but
she accomplished that also, and both girls changed cars for Boston.
Indeed, presently it seemed as if the only difficult part of the whole
affair would be the parting from each other. They were to write
frequently, of course, and not only for the sake of mutual information;
but it seemed, particularly to the pale Elsie, who had never had a friend,
cruelly hard to have to be separated so soon from this most charming
companion. She gazed at her wistfully, unable to express herself.
The other Elsie, as quick, nearly, to read as to express feeling, and
naturally the more impulsive, answered from her heart.
"Oh, we'll see each other often, we'll just have to, Elsie-Honey," she
cried. "And anyhow, we'll want to compare notes and brush up on our
parts. We'll visit back and forth. You come to New York and I----"
She stopped short.
"My goodness, that'll never do! I can never come to Enderby. You'll
have to do all the visiting, honey. I'm the very image of my mother, and
I'd give it all away."
"Oh," said the other feebly.

"You've noticed that I have dimples, I suppose?" inquired the other
gloomily.
Elsie could not deny it,