MISTAKEN IDENTITY
Mrs. Hobbs came back to Dorothy as she had promised, and also, as she had promised, she did open a window.
This open window was Dorothy's hope. If she could only slip out of it, and drop to the little piazza below!
Mrs. Hobbs had brought up a cup of warm milk, and a slice of toast. Dorothy took it thankfully, and felt stronger.
"You feel better now?" asked the woman. "I have to go over the hill for berries—we have a great crop to-day, and Josh had to go away on business." If only Dorothy knew what business! "Do you think you'll be all right if I fetch you something to read?"
"Why, of course. I feel very well to-day, and I shall be glad to sit by the window and read," said Dorothy.
"Here's a book. I got it off last year's Christmas tree, but I ain't had no time to read it." She handed Dorothy a volume bound in red and inscribed "Myrtle and Ivy." There was nothing to show whether it was an agricultural guide, a spiritual retreat, or a love song.
"It's a pretty book," said Dorothy, "and I am sure I shall enjoy it."
"Yes, then I'll be off. Only let me tell you one thing dear," and the woman came up very close to Dorothy, "you must promise me not to try to get away until I can take you to the station. Josh has the wagon."
"All right," replied Dorothy with an amused smile. "Why should I try to get away?"
"Don't know, dear, only I must have your promise."
Dorothy felt queer—she had reason to be grateful to Mrs. Hobbs, and to give a promise would involve an obligation. Yet she must make her escape. Some disturbance downstairs saved the girl further anxiety on the question of the promise. Mrs. Hobbs ran down to the door, and she did not return.
The summer morning hours sent in their greeting through the small window that opened above the porch. Dorothy was nervous, she must leave just as soon as she saw Mrs. Hobbs disappear over the hill, when she would be out of the sight of the house. And her purse was gone! Well, once out on the clear roadway, surely some one would befriend her. What a dreadful thing it was to be a prisoner! And not to know why she was imprisoned! Her beautiful hair had not been combed in two days. Dorothy did the best she could to make it smooth with her side comb, but the depth of the hair, and the size of the comb, made the matter of actual hair-dressing a difficult task. But there was fresh water in the basin, and she could wash, which was one comfort. "If only I had my purse," she thought, "with my little looking glass. Well, it will scarcely matter how I look—so long as I do not attract attention."
As if Dorothy could help attracting attention!
Mrs. Hobbs's generous form had dropped behind the hill. There was nothing to wait for now, Dorothy must get out of that window.
The window frame was that sort that runs to the roof and has not far to go. It was really not half a window, but it was large enough for the girl's slim form to slip through. It was no distance to the roof, then she could slide down the post.
Dorothy was out. She sat upon the roof and with a careful move slid toward the edge.
She must stop near a post, as she could not stand up!
Yes, what blessing! She was directly above the post!
Dorothy was not an athlete, but she was always able to climb. She swung around the post—down—down—to the ground!
But no sooner had her feet touched the welcome earth that a shrill scream startled her!
She was puzzled and alarmed until she saw a big, green parrot in a cage. And the bird was screeching to the limit of its capacity. Mrs. Hobbs could hear it! Should Dorothy throw a mat from the porch over its cage!
No, the door was opened, the bird was out,—and it was actually flying at Dorothy!
"Mama! Mama!" it yelled. "Come quick! Come quick!"
Snatching up a stick, Dorothy made an attempt to strike the green thing as it flapped toward her. But she could not hit it! And if she turned to run it would likely settle its claws into her head. Yet she must run! Mrs. Hobbs—
Without time for further thought Dorothy did run; down the lane, and into the road.
The parrot had not followed! Dorothy was out on the road, she could surely get back to camp now. Oh, how glorious it was!
Gratefully she raised her eyes to the clear sky. Her heart sent up its thanks—to the Friend who is never hidden from those who seek Him.
"And there comes a carriage," she told herself, as a rumbling of wheels took her attention. "Perhaps the driver will give me a lift."
The wagon was hidden from view as the road turned sharply just under the oaks. Dorothy waited. Yes, and there was a young woman in the carriage. Wasn't that fortunate?
The carriage turned so close to Dorothy that she had no need to take a single step to hail it. And it was almost stopped, yes; it did stop now.
The young woman in the carriage was garbed in white—a nurse.
"Is this the Hobb's place?" she asked of Dorothy.
"Yes," replied the girl in surprise.
Then the nurse jumped out of the carriage. She looked keenly at Dorothy.
"Do you—stop there?" she asked curiously.
"I have been stopping there," answered Dorothy, now completely mystified by the young woman's manner.
"Is your name——"
"My name is Dorothy Dale, and for some reason I have been—hidden away from my friends," said Dorothy bravely. "I was just about to ask you to assist me to get back to them. I was in camp at Everglade."
"Why, of course I will assist you!" replied the nurse in the most affable manner. "Get right into the carriage, and we will have you back at camp in no time." Dorothy hesitated. The nurse consulted a small note book.
"Come right in, dear. We are going straight down to Everglade," and she touched Dorothy's arm to urge her.
"Strange, I feel so nervous about falling into traps," said Dorothy honestly, looking deeply into the eyes that were investigating every feature of her own fair face. "But you see I did fall, literally, and——"
"Of course, and you were hurt." Dorothy could not understand that caressing manner. It was identical with that exercised by Mrs. Hobbs. "Now, come," and Dorothy did step into the carriage. "We will drive along quickly, so that we may reach camp before luncheon. James, hurry your horse."
For a few moments Dorothy felt as if she must collapse. The strain of her escape from the old house, then her fright from the bird, and her fear that Mrs. Hobbs would overtake her. And now to be actually riding back to camp! What would her friends say to her? Oh, how good it would be to relieve them of all their anxiety, and to be really going back well—comparatively well, at any rate.
"I've had quite a time of it these last two days," she remarked, glancing timidly at the figure in white beside her, "but it seems all things come out right—if we only have patience."
"But I wouldn't talk dear—the sun has been warm, and you are quite overheated. Wouldn't you like to rest your head here, on my lap?"
Dorothy sat up erect. This was surely unheard of. Who was this nurse? Where was she taking her?
"I am perfectly well, thank you," she said in the firmest tones she could command, "and I really would like to know where we are going? Why do you treat me as if I were ill or a child?"
"There, there," and the nurse touched Dorothy's hand. "Of course you are perfectly well, and of course, we are going to camp. James, is your horse asleep?"
But Dorothy was frightened. There was something mysterious in it all. Another wagon approached. It drew slowly along.
Mr. Hobbs!
Dorothy's heart gave a leap as his old wagon stopped! The nurse put her head out of the little curtained window and made signs to him.
"All right! All right!" he replied. "Yes, that's her!"
"That's her!" repeated Dorothy. "That's me! What is this trick? Let me out of this carriage instantly, or I will call for help!"
"If you do not keep quiet, I shall be obliged to restrain you," said the nurse. "Miss Harriwell, we are taking you back to the sanitarium. I am your new nurse."
"Sanitarium! New nurse! Miss Harriwell! I am Dorothy Dale, and I have never been inside a sanitarium!"
The carriage dashed into a driveway! A big brownstone building confronted them.
A corps of nurses hurried out to the path!
When Dorothy saw them she fainted!