The four Corners in California

by Amy Ella Blanchard

NAN'S NEW FRIEND

The telephone bell rang just after breakfast on the morning following the departure of Mary Lee and Jack for the Sanders ranch. Nan answered it. "Who is it?" she asked. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Roberts. It's Nan. You want to speak to me? Well, here I am. Lovely. I'm so glad. How old is she? That's nice. How long is she going to stay? Why, yes. I'll ask mother. Just hold the line, please." She rushed off to Mrs. Corner. "Mother, mother," she cried, "Mrs. Roberts wants me to come over there to spend the day. Mr. Roberts' niece from Boston is there. She came last night to stay a week while her mother and father go somewhere else. She's just my age, Mrs. Roberts says. May I go?"

"What about your practicing and your lessons?"

"I'll practice this evening, and I'll do double lessons to-morrow, if you say so. Mary Lee and Jack aren't having lessons this week and I don't see why I should."

"Very well, then you may be excused for to-day from lessons, but you must make up your practicing."

"All right," and Nan danced off to tell the señorita that there was to be a holiday. "I don't suppose you mind in the least," she said. "I should think you would hate to teach stupid me."

"I do not hate, no, but I shall then be able to make a visit to an old friend of my aunt's."

"Then that just suits all around," and she whirled out. "What shall I wear, mother?" she asked, putting her head in at the living-room.

"Shall you always be a baby, Nan?" said her mother, with a smile. "Wear that little blue and white check frock. Is Jean going?"

"Mrs. Roberts didn't say so, and you know Jean can't walk; she can only hobble."

"Then we shall have to try to do something to entertain her. We can take her to drive and get her some postal cards to send to Jack and Mary Lee."

Having donned her blue and white check, Nan set forth, pleased at the prospect of a new acquaintance. At the door of Mrs. Roberts's morning room she met a slim, angular girl, with very blue eyes, rather a long nose and neutral brown hair, of the tint described as mouse color.

"Ah, here you are, Nan," said Mrs. Roberts kissing her. "This is our niece Charlotte Loring. I hope you will be friends."

Nan shook hands warmly. "I'm awfully glad you've come," she said cordially. "My sister, Mary Lee, is away for a week, and I don't know any girls of my age here. Don't you think California is great?"

"It seems rather interesting," returned Charlotte, "though I haven't been here long enough to judge."

Nan turned to Mrs. Roberts. "What shall I show her? Has she seen everything?"

"I believe Mr. Roberts made the rounds with Charlotte this morning," replied Mrs. Roberts. "Suppose you just go down on the veranda and talk till after I have looked after my housekeeping. This afternoon I thought we would have a drive and show Charlotte some of the beauties of Los Angeles, our City of the Angels. Its real name, you know, Charlotte, is Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Angeles, Our Lady, the Queen of the Angels. You wouldn't believe what a little place it was thirty years ago."

"I like the Spanish names they give to the California places; it makes it seem much more foreign," said Nan. "I brought my work, Mrs. Bobs," she swung the little bag on her arm. "I'm trying to do callado, but I make a poor fist of it beside Mary Lee."

"May I ask what is callado?" said Charlotte.

"It is the name our governess gives to drawn work. She does the most intricate things; they are perfectly lovely, but I can't begin to do as well as my sister. Mine isn't worth looking at. Fancy work isn't my forte. What's yours?"

"Oh, really, I don't know," returned Charlotte. "I prefer music to any other accomplishment."

"Oh, do you? Good! That's my best love, too. I am trying to play duets with the señorita and it is such fun, though I am not an advanced student. I've not been taking lessons very long. We are doing some fascinating Spanish dances now, and it is such good practice, for you have to skurry around to keep the right tempo. Do you think you have a voice? I am wild to sing as well as to play, but I don't know what sort of pipe I shall develop. The señorita says if I sing anything it will be contralto, but I have my doubts of having any voice at all. Come on down. If you love music we'll be friends at once."

This common bond did unloosen their tongues and did away with Charlotte's apparent reserve, therefore in a few minutes they were chatting pleasantly on the veranda. Nan was a good talker and Charlotte a good listener. The contrast between Nan's drawl and Charlotte's quick crisp Northern mode of speech amused Mrs. Roberts as she heard their chatter.

"I am studying at the Boston Conservatory," Charlotte told Nan.

"That is where my Aunt Helen wants me to go, and perhaps I shall. Mother is a little doubtful, but Aunt Helen believes in a very broad education and thinks it will do us good to go up north for a year. I believe I'd rather stay out here, though."

"Oh, but surely you would prefer Boston," said Charlotte.

"But why? Of course you like it because it is your home, but I don't believe I should care to go there so very much."

Charlotte looked as if she had uttered a heresy. "I presume you have never been there," she replied as if that were sufficient reason for such an extraordinary statement.

"No, I have not, and perhaps you haven't been to Virginia and wonder why I prefer that to any place on earth," said Nan laughing and then she returned to music as a safer subject than local preferences. "Do you like the Spanish music?" she asked. "Just now I am wild about it."

"I prefer the German," Charlotte made answer.

"I like the German, too. Aunt Helen says that after a while I shall like it the best of all. She says when we get through school she wants us to go abroad and that then I shall just get soaked in music."

"Perhaps you will study in Berlin."

"Maybe. I don't know yet. I haven't got so far ahead as that."

"Of course you have heard opera. Which one do you like best?"

"Never have heard one. I am wild to."

"Oh, then you have a great deal ahead of you."

"Have you heard many?" asked Nan, quite envious.

"Oh, dear, yes. I go several times a season, and always to the Boston Symphony. I have not heard all the Wagner operas, but I shall."

At once Charlotte appeared much more grown up than Nan's self. It was very young ladyish to go to operas and to Symphony concerts. "Tell me all about where you live," Nan went on. "I like to know about people's homes; I can get them into my mind better when I know."

"We live just out of Boston, at Brookline; it is a lovely place with many handsome residences. We have quite a lot of ground and a pretty garden. You know the suburbs of Boston are very beautiful."

"So I have heard," said Nan applying herself to her work.

"Father wanted we should go into Boston about two years ago but mother wouldn't hear of leaving Brookline."

"I shouldn't think she would. I can't see how any one could like rows of houses with tiny yards and no gardens. We don't live near any large city; ours is just a college town. Our house is old and we have a lot of ground, too, and a garden. Dear me, to think of the muddy roads and the cold and all that while here we are sitting out of doors under vines in full bloom. Aren't the flowers in this part of the country wonderful?"

"Very. Where do you go to school, Nan? Is your name Anna, by the way?"

"No, it's Nancy, just Nancy, with Nan for short. I used to like Nannette till Aunt Helen told me about a maid she had in Paris who was very dishonest; her name was Nannette, so now I'm plain Nancy, very plain," she added laughing.

"Oh!" Charlotte looked at her, surprised that she should allude to her appearance in such a light manner. She didn't think Nan at all plain with her starlike eyes and glowing color, but if Nan herself thought so, it was a very outspoken thing for her to mention it. Charlotte was used to taking such things more seriously. Yet under Nan's graciousness and readiness to make friends Charlotte quite thawed out, and before the day was over was laughing and talking as naturally as in her own home while Mr. Roberts nodded to his wife approvingly.

"I knew Nan would be the very one to bring Charlotte out," he said. "Once you get underneath that rigid exterior there's a good sweet kernel to find. I hope they'll see a lot of each other."

This Mrs. Roberts determined they should do, and not a day passed but the two girls were together during some part of it. In the morning they played duets, in the afternoon they read or walked or drove, and more than one night Nan stayed with Charlotte. One afternoon Nan proposed that they should take their books and go to a spot she called the Fairy Dell. "You don't know how lovely it is there," she said. "It's not far, and there are all sorts of things growing; mosses for fairy couches and tiny rose-colored toad-stools for seats, then there are lots of fairy flowers and little gnome-like corners."

Charlotte laughed. "You are so imaginative," she said.

"I get ever so much fun out of it," returned Nan. "I'm glad I am not matter-of-fact. What books shall we take? I have a lovely illustrated edition of 'An Old-fashioned Girl,' that was given me at Christmas; we might take that. Do you like the Jungle books and the 'Just So Stories'? Jean and Jack have those."

Charlotte decided on the "Just So Stories" which she had not read and Nan went to get the book from Jean who was very ready to lend it.

"Where are you going, Nan?" she asked.

"To the Fairy Dell with Charlotte," responded Nan.

"Oh, mayn't I go?" begged Jean.

"With that weak little ankle? Better not. You might fall over some of the fairy snares or into the holes of the gnomes," said Nan as she ran out with the book.

Jean looked after her wistfully. This was not the first time Nan had mentioned the Fairy Dell and Jean had long been consumed with a desire to see it. Nan was always so mysterious about it and always made some excuse not to take her little sister with her when she went there. It must be a wonderful place, Jean thought, and even if one did not see fairies it would be something to see where fairies lived. So regardless of her lame ankle, Jean resolved to follow, and when Nan started forth with Charlotte she limped at a safe distance behind. But before the little ravine was reached one came to a house set by itself with a large garden around it. By the time the two older girls reached it Jean was far behind and her lame ankle began to pain her. Yet she kept on as she saw the others descend the hill at the side of the house and gathered up new strength to press on. It would never do to give up now when she had come this far. But just as she reached the gateway of the big house a large dog stalked out and stood barring the way. If there was one thing above another that Jean was afraid of it was a strange dog, and she stood stock still gazing fearfully at this guardian of the mysterious dell.

At last, plucking up her courage, she dashed past him and at once he followed barking loudly. Jean turned her head to see him loping after her and her terror increased. Stumbling, hobbling, crying, she rushed on, the dog barking and gaining upon her. It was horrible, she thought. Would she never reach the spot where Nan was? "Nan! Nan!" she cried wildly. "Oh, Nan, come help me. Drive him away! Drive him away!"

At last Nan heard. She was just looking around for a comfortable spot in which to settle down, that she and Charlotte might read undisturbed, when Jean's cries reached her. "I believe that's some one calling me," she exclaimed running back to the point at which they had entered the dell. Then she saw Jean crying with fear and almost falling as she ran, the big dog close upon her heels. "Why, Jean, Jean," called Nan, "what is the matter?"

"The dog! the dog!" gasped Jean. "Oh, drive him away!"

"Why, he won't hurt you," said Nan. "Nice doggie, come here."

Jean shrieked with terror. "Send him away! Send him away!" she cried.

"Go home, Don," ordered Nan, pretending to pick up a stone to fling at him, and the dog turned tail and started off. Once he stopped and looked back as if wondering why this acquaintance, who had always been friendly, should suddenly turn against him and show a distaste for his company. Nan gathered up Jean in her arms. "Why, you poor little hop-pity-go-kick, what did you come all this way for? Is anything wrong at home? Did mother send you?"

"No," sobbed Jean. "I wanted so much to see the Fairy Dell. I never did see it, you know, and I was there at home all by myself, with nobody to play with, and I just thought I would come."

"You ought to have told me you were coming," said Nan, "and I could have advised you how to pass the Guardian Dog. I could have told you the charm. You saw how quickly he went when I told him; that was because he knew I'd tell the fairies if he didn't."

"Oh, Nan," said Charlotte, "how can you?"

"How can I what? Charlotte doesn't know about the fairies as we do," she whispered to Jean, "and she doesn't believe in the Guardian Dog. Don't you know all fairy dells have some sort of guardian? Sometimes it's an owl; sometimes another kind of bird or beast. This one has a dog, but he wouldn't hurt you unless you came to steal the fairy treasures. He had to find out why you were coming to his fairies' dell without being invited."

Jean looked so troubled that Charlotte said, "What nonsense, Nan. How can you make her believe such stuff?"

"We like to believe it," said Nan, comfortably. "Now let me set you down here, Jean," she said, as she picked up her little sister in her arms. "I am afraid you're giving your lame ankle a set-back. Rest it on that mossy cushion and we'll read to you about 'The Cat that walks by herself.' I'll go over to that tree and whisper a charm first, so the fairies won't be offended at your coming." She gravely took her way to the tree and whispered loud enough for Jean to hear:

"Fairies bright, fairies light,

Hiding from us out of sight,

She who seeks your fairy dell

Is a friend who loves you well."

"There," she said, "that is all right. Now let us read."

Charlotte looked at her with a tolerant smile. "How babyish," she said. "I really think you half believe it all yourself."

"Of course I do," said Nan, coolly, as she opened the book before her and began to read.

"I want to see the fairy beds and cushions and things," whispered Jean.

"Hush-sh," returned Nan. "You must be quiet so they'll get used to your being here. After a while I will show you."

She was as good as her word and when the story was finished she took Jean mysteriously to little holes in the ground, to crevices in the rocks, to overshadowed corners, till the child's fancy was filled with imaginary beings who peopled the fairy dell.

But when they started home the little girl lagged painfully. "This will never do," said Nan. "You've overtaxed your ankle, Jean, and you'll have to get home some other way than by walking all the distance. She's too heavy for us to carry, don't you think, Charlotte? I'm afraid our wrists would give out if we tried to take her lady-to-London. I'll tell you what; Suppose you go on ahead and ask Carter Barnwell to come around with his automobile for us, and I will stay with Jean. You can come back with him to show him where to find us."

"Oh, but I don't know him," said Charlotte, shrinking back. "I have met him only once."

"Never mind that," said Nan. "He knows all about you and he will be right ready to come."

But Charlotte would not be persuaded. It was more than she could stand to be required to ask a favor of a strange young man.

"Then," said Nan, "if you don't mind staying with Jean I'll go for Cart. He's pretty sure to be at the house at this time of day." Charlotte much preferred this arrangement and Nan set off for Jean's relief.

But for once Carter was not on hand and Nan was perplexed. She did not want to tell her mother lest the blame be laid on Jean for following her and upon Nan herself for leaving her little sister out of her afternoon's plans. "She'll say I ought to have stayed at home and entertained her," she told herself, "but I forgot she would be all alone. I thought maybe Clarence would come over, but now Jack isn't here he doesn't seem to care to." She stood in the garden trying to decide what to do when she espied Li Hung hanging out his dish towels. She would confide in him. "Jean's down in the woods and can't get home," she said. "She's walked so far that her ankle won't stand any more."

Li Hung didn't understand sufficiently well and Nan began again. "Little galee, Jean. Ankle hurt in woods. Can't get home. How carry her, Li Hung?"

He nodded. "Me callee lil galee," he said, nodding. "Allee lite. Come 'long."

He went into the house and brought out a strong bamboo basket which could be carried hamper-wise upon his back. He displayed it triumphantly. "Babee," he said, grinning. "Lil galee babee."

Nan laughed. It pleased her mightily to use this odd method of carrying Jean home and she sallied forth with Li Hung to the spot where Jean and Charlotte waited. Here she explained the plan.

"You'll not allow her to be carried through the streets that way?" said Charlotte quite shocked. "She is not a baby."

"She is our baby," returned Nan, "and I think it is a fine way."

"But I shouldn't like any one to see us going through the street. Such a queer procession."

"You don't have to," said Nan tossing up her chin. "You can go by yourself. I'm not ashamed to be seen with my sister when she is not able to walk."

"Oh, but can't you go with me some other way home, and let the Chinaman carry Jean?"

"No, I can't," returned Nan shortly.

"But I don't know the way."

"It's quite direct, but, if you like, you can follow on half a square behind us and nobody will suspect that you belong to our disreputable company," returned Nan, and she marched ahead without another word, keeping close by Jean while Charlotte followed at a respectable distance. Nan never once turned her head and having reached her own gate did not stop to say good-bye.

"That was fine, good, very good, Li Hung," she told the Chinaman, "Little galee get home allee lite. Li Hung good boy." And Li Hung beamed.

Jean was swung lightly down from her queer carriage, and was ready with her thanks to her carrier.

"It was just like being in China," said Nan to her, "wasn't it? I wish we had a jinrikisha, though this is next best. I should never have thought of it and I think Li Hung was very clever. It was a real coolie way of doing, but I had to laugh to see how people stared."

If Jean had any feeling of embarrassment Nan's approval of the matter did away with it, and the child declared it was fun. "I liked being carried along on Li Hung's back that way," she said. "I wouldn't mind doing it again. Where's Charlotte, Nan?"

"I don't know nor care," was Nan's curt rejoinder.