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Dorothy at Oak Knowe   By: (1843-1910)

Book cover

First Page:

DOROTHY AT OAK KNOWE

by

EVELYN RAYMOND

New York Hurst & Co., Inc. Publishers

THE DOROTHY BOOKS

By EVELYN RAYMOND

These stories of an American girl by an American author have made "Dorothy" a household synonym for all that is fascinating. Truth and realism are stamped on every page. The interest never flags, and is ofttimes intense. No more happy choice can be made for gift books, so sure are they to win approval and please not only the young in years, but also "grown ups" who are young in heart and spirit.

Dorothy Dorothy at Skyrie Dorothy's Schooling Dorothy's Travels Dorothy's House Party Dorothy in California Dorothy on a Ranch Dorothy's House Boat Dorothy at Oak Knowe Dorothy's Triumph Dorothy's Tour

COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY THE PLATT & PECK CO.

[Illustration: "EVER RIDE IN AN OX CART"? Dorothy at Oak Knowe. ]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE 9

II. UNFORTUNATE BEGINNINGS 24

III. PEERS AND COMMONS 39

IV. THE GILPINS HAVE A PARTY 55

V. THE FRIGHT OF MILLIKINS PILLIKINS 69

VI. AT THE FALL OF THE MAIDEN'S BATH 85

VII. ALL HALLOW EVE FESTIVITIES 102

VIII. PEER AND COMMONER 117

IX. THE NIGHT THAT FOLLOWED 133

X. OPEN CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL 148

XI. WHAT CAME WITH THE SNOW AND ICE 164

XII. JOHN GILPIN JOINS THE SPORT 182

XIII. A BAD DAY FOR JOHN GILPIN 193

XIV. EXPLANATIONS ARE IN ORDER 206

XV. MRS. JARLEY ENTERTAINS 221

XVI. A PERPLEXING PROBLEM OF LIFE 232

XVII. COMMENCEMENT; AND CONCLUSION 249

DOROTHY AT OAK KNOWE

CHAPTER I

ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE

"This way for the Queen!"

"Here you are for the Duke of Connaught! Right this way!"

"Want the Metropole, Miss?"

"Room there, stupid! She's from the States any fool could see that! I'm from your hotel, little lady, the American. Your luggage, Miss, allow me?"

If Dorothy's hands hadn't been too full, she would have clapped them over her ears, to drown the cries of the hackmen who swarmed about her as she stepped from the train at the railway station in Toronto. As it was, she clung desperately to her bag and shawlstrap, which the man from the American hotel seemed bound to seize, whether or no.

But her heart sank and it was a forlorn little girl, indeed, who looked anxiously around seeking some face on which might be a smile of welcome. But nobody paid any attention to her, except the obstreperous hackmen, and in a sudden fright she let fall the tears she had so bravely kept back until then. It had been a long and lonely journey, but she had been assured that she would be promptly met and cared for when it ended. Now, amid all the throng of travelers and those who awaited them, not one was looking for a "dark haired girl in navy blue" and the tears fell faster as she cried aloud:

"Oh! what shall I do! What shall I do!"

Even the hackmen had forsaken her in pursuit of other, more promising patrons. The short autumn day was at its close and in the growing darkness her fright increased and her usual common sense left her. But, as she spoke, a hand was laid upon her shoulder and a rather gruff voice demanded:

"Why, little stranger, what's a troublin' ye?"

Dorothy winked her tears away and looked up into the face of an old man, whose gray beard swept his breast while his head was entirely bald. He wore a long blue smock, carried an ox goad in one hand and a canvas bag in the other. He looked as kind as he was homely and Dorothy answered quickly:

"I'm lost, I guess... Continue reading book >>




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