Miss Drayton knew better. She was disturbed at learning from one of Mr. Patterson's brief, matter-of-course letters that Anne had been sent to an orphanage. If she had known the plan beforehand, she would have had Anne sent to her. But as the step was taken, she accepted it and Anne slipped out of her life.
Pat had a jolly summer. Camp Riverview was on New River, where, a clear mountain stream, it begins its journey to the ocean. The boys' tent was pitched on a level, grassy glade with rolling hills, cleared or wooded, behind it. Across the river rose rocky bluffs where dwarfed oaks struggled for a foothold. There were seven boys in the camp and the wholesome young man who had them in charge was like a big brother. There were two or three hours of daily study in which the boys were coached for their autumn examinations. The remainder of the day was free for sport—boating, fishing, swimming, tramps, and rides. One good time trod on the heels of another.
The boys took walking tours through the picturesque country, following the narrow, roundabout mountain roads, or scrambling up steep paths, or making trails of their own. They visited Mountain Lake, set like a clear, shining jewel on the mountain-top. They climbed Bald Knob and gazed down on lovely valleys and outstretched mountains, range rising beyond range. Time fails to describe the varied pleasures and interests of the holiday, the close of which sent Pat, brown and sturdy, to Woodlawn Academy. There he remained until the passing days and weeks and months brought again vacation time. In June his father would return from Panama, and after a few weeks at home Pat was to go with his Aunt Sarah to the Adirondacks.
CHAPTER XVI
But we must go back to Anne, whom we left telling fairy tales to an audience across the hedge. A rainy afternoon a few days later, a trim nurse-maid brought a note to Miss Farlow. It was from Mrs. Marshall who lived in the brown-stone house next door, asking that a little girl whose name she did not know, a child with a big rag doll called Honey-Sweet, might come to spend the afternoon with her children. Her little boy, just recovering from typhoid fever, was peevish at being kept indoors. He begged to see the girl who had entertained him a few days before by telling fairy tales. A visit from her would be a kindness to a sick child and an anxious mother.
"It is Anne Lewis that is wanted," said Miss Farlow. "I don't know about letting her go. Visiting interferes with the daily tasks. I think it better not to—"
"Please'm," entreated the bearer of the note, hastening to ward off a refusal, "do, please'm, let the little girl come. He's that fractious he has us all wore out. And he do say if the little girl don't come he'll scream till night."
"Why doesn't his mother punish him?" asked Miss Farlow.
"Punish him! Punish Dunlop!" exclaimed Martha, in amazement.