Three Little Cousins Part 20

"Not my Miss Ainslee?" cried Molly in surprise.

"Your Miss Ainslee."

"Oh, I'm jealous," said Molly. "Oh, Polly, to think you will have her all to yourself. Oh, dear!"

"But you will not be here, honey," said her aunt, "and besides it is better for Miss Ainslee that she should go, for the doctor thinks she cannot get along in the east, and that she must either stop teaching or go to another climate. She isn't ill exactly, but it is better that she should not wait till she is. So you see----"

"Oh, I see, but I am sorry all the same," said Molly dolefully.

"And I am tremendously glad," said Polly. "I liked Mr. Perkins very well, but Miss Ainslee is such an improvement on him. Is she to go out with us, Aunt Ada?"

"Yes."

"Then that is what Uncle d.i.c.k meant when he said it concerned him. He was thinking how nice it would be to travel all that way with her."

"He's looking further than that," remarked Miss Ada with a smile. "If things keep on this way I don't believe she will ever come east again to live, Polly."

"She won't if I can help it," said Uncle d.i.c.k from the doorway. "What do you think of our scheme, Pollywog?" he asked as he caught Polly and tousled her.

"I think it is grandiferous," replied Polly, squirming out of his grasp. "But you'd better behave yourself, Mr. d.i.c.ky-Pig, or I'll tell on you."

"Just see how she gets me in her power," said Uncle d.i.c.k to his sister.

"I'll not be safe a moment from that wicked child's malicious tales."

"Don't you call me a wicked child," said Polly darting at him. "Now for your nose."

"Spare me! Spare me!" cried her uncle, putting up both hands. "I'll be good, Polly; I will indeed, but if you spoil my features, how can you expect Miss Ainslee ever to like me? If you'll promise to be good and say nice things about your dear uncle, I'll let you be bridesmaid."

"Oh, d.i.c.k, you silly boy!" expostulated his sister. "Don't fill the child's head with such notions. He hardly knows Miss Ainslee, Polly, and it will make her so uncomfortable that she will leave, in a month, if your Uncle d.i.c.k keeps up this sort of nonsense."

This hushed up Master d.i.c.k and he began to ask Polly such silly questions as: "What is the result of half a dozen ears of corn and a pint of Lima beans?"

"You can't add ears and pints," protested Polly stoutly.

"Oh, yes, you can," returned her uncle jauntily. "Luella does it often and the result is succotash."

Polly made a contemptuous mouth at him.

He laughed and went on. "Here's another. When apples are ten cents a quart how much are blueberries?"

"Why, why--they're just the same. Aren't they?" Polly appealed to her Aunt Ada.

"The blueberries are less; they're always less; they're smaller, you see," her uncle answered.

"That's no answer at all," said Polly in a disgusted tone. "I won't play," and she stalked off to join her cousins.

Yet, as the poet Burns says: "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley," and, after all, things did not turn out exactly as was at first expected; for when the children had made their rounds to say good bye to Ellis and Myrtle, Leona, Ora and the rest, and when they were actually on the boat with c.o.o.ney safe in a big basket, Uncle d.i.c.k pulled some letters out of his pocket and began to look them over. "I found these in our box this morning when I went into the post-office,"

he said. "There's one for you, Ada, and here's one for me from Arthur." He glanced down the page. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, "this settles your hash, Miss Molly."

"What do you mean?" asked Molly, leaving her seat and coming over to him.

"Why, listen. This is from Mary's father. 'A turn in the business which brought me over, compels me to remain at least three months longer, so I am accepting John Perrine's kind offer to keep my little girl till I am ready to go back home. I am sure the dry climate of Colorado will complete the good work of the summer and that I shall be able to take Mary home with her health entirely established.'"

Polly rushed tumultuously at Mary and gave her a hearty squeeze. "I'm going to have you! I'm going to have you!" she cried. "Won't we have good times?"

Molly sat with a very grave face looking on. Her uncle smiled down at her. "Looks as if you were out of it, doesn't it, Mollykins?" he said.

Molly turned a mournful countenance upon him and gave a long sigh. "I s'pose mother and I will not be going to England at all," she said.

"I' s'pose' not," said her aunt. "In fact I am quite sure of it." She put down the letter which she was reading. "There is a change of plans all around, Molly dear, and you're not left out, as you will see. You know, my dearie, that your mother was taking the opportunity of visiting England because your father expected to make a business trip which would keep him away from home all winter, and your parents had concluded to rent their house to some friends. Now that the house is actually rented and you are not going to England your mother will go with your father, and you, Molly, my kitten, will go to Colorado that you may still have your lessons and be in good hands. Your father and mother will stop for you on their way home. As for me----"

Molly did not wait for the last words, but rushed over to where Mary and Polly with heads together were excitedly talking over the plans for the coming winter. Molly precipitated herself upon them in a tumult of excitement. "I'm going, too! I'm going, too!" she cried.

"Where? Where?" exclaimed Polly.

"To Colorado! to Colorado, with you and Mary!" chanted Molly.

A squeal of delight from Polly was followed by one scarcely less joyful from Mary, and then the three took hold of hands and danced around the steamboat cabin till they dropped in a heap at the feet of their aunt and uncle.

"Just think," said Molly when she had recovered her breath. "We'll all be together just as we were this summer, you, Polly, and Mary and Uncle d.i.c.k and Aunt Ada."

"You must count me out, Molly," said her Aunt Ada. "I shall do no more than see you all safely at the ranch, and then I am going to spend the winter further south with my dear friend Janey Moffatt who has been married a whole year and whom I have never yet visited. I have just had this letter setting the time for me to come. I think Miss Ainslee and your Aunt Jennie can keep you three in order."

"If not, there am I," put in Uncle d.i.c.k scowling savagely.

"As if you----" began Polly. But he made a dive at her and she disappeared behind a pillar of the cabin.

"Now," said Miss Ada, "it is just as I said: there will be no difficulty in deciding where c.o.o.ney is to go, and to tell you the truth, my dears, I think he will thrive better in a cool climate than anywhere else, for with their fluffy coats, these little c.o.o.n cats are liable to fall ill and die where it is too warm for them. The ranch will be just the place for him." So c.o.o.ney's future was a.s.sured and in time he reached his new home safely, none the worse for the long journey, during which he was tenderly cared for. Luella had gladly taken charge of Cosey, promising to return to Miss Ada the next summer and to bring the little cat with her.

"Even if I'm married," she said, "Granville says I may live with you summers, Miss Ada, whilst he's off fis.h.i.+ng."

When Molly had spent two weeks with her parents and Mary had seen her father, the three little girls were ready to set out upon their longer journey, though it must be confessed that at the last Molly found it hard to say good-bye, and Mary looked rather grave. Polly, however, reminded Mary that there would be no Miss Sharp at the ranch, and Uncle d.i.c.k whispered to Molly that he didn't see how any one could be other than happy at the prospect of spending part of each day in Miss Ainslee's company, and from that began to make such delightful plans that in a short time they were happy in thinking of the good times ahead of them. Uncle d.i.c.k promised to provide each with a safe little broncho to ride. Aunt Ada told them that their Aunt Jennie had put three small beds in her biggest room, so that the little girls could room together. Miss Ainslee told Molly confidentially that it made all the difference in the world to her that she was to have one of her own little pupils with her, and Polly, who really loved c.o.o.ney more than either of the others, was so delighted at not having to give him up that she was ready to share him generously with her cousins, and always lifted him over into Mary's or Molly's lap whenever one of them said: "Now, Polly, you have had him long enough."

Altogether the long journey was not unpleasant, and when the travelers at last arrived, though they were weary, they were very happy, and that night cuddled down in their little white beds while around their dwelling place towered up the great mountains, steadfast as the friends.h.i.+p which was born that summer in the hearts of the three little cousins and which lasted their lifetime.