Elsie Marley, Honey | Page 9

though denial was evidently what the other
craved.
The latter sighed deeply. "Then they're just as plain as ever, and would
give me away first thing," she said. "Dad used to say he had never seen
such big dimples as mother's, and that mine were just like 'em. He said
if I had straight yellow hair and blue eyes, any one that had seen her
would know me. Oh, dear, aren't you lucky to have nothing
conspicuous about you? I'm sure you're not the image of any one,
Elsie-Honey, and you'll come to see me often enough to make up, won't
you?"
"Oh, yes, Elsie, unless he--Mr. Middleton--should object to my coming
to New York alone?"
"You'd better begin right away calling him Uncle John, so as to get
used to it as soon as you can," suggested the other. "And I'm sure he
won't object. I'm sure from his letters that he's not an old fuss, and it's a
straight trip with no changes from Boston to New York. And Cousin
Julia and I will meet you at the Grand Central!"
She grinned at her own cheek, as she called it, and the other Elsie
smiled happily.
"Just the same, I'm more than sorry not to be able to come to Enderby
to visit," Elsie Moss declared. "You know it would be simply stunning
practice, playing the stranger in my uncle's house--something like the
real wife in 'East Lynne,' you know."
"I never saw 'East Lynne.'"
"Dear me, I cried quarts and bucketsful over it. It's the most tragic play!
If I had time I could show you how it goes. I always act things out over
and over after I've seen them, making up words where I don't remember
them. But, alas! we haven't any time to spare with what we've got

ahead of us, have we, honey? Now we must arrange for meeting
Uncle--no, I must call him Mr. Middleton."
On a sudden the girl clasped her hands in apparent distress.
"Oh, I never thought!" she cried. "It won't even be safe for Uncle John
to see me at the station in Boston. Well, I shall have to drop behind and
keep perfectly sober. I'll just watch out to see that everything's all right
with you, and then I'll skidoo. Dear me, I hope I don't look so awfully
unlike the Marleys as to frighten Cousin Julia?"
Had she said the Pritchards, Elsie would have been in a quandary; as it
was, her face brightened.
"She never knew the Marleys, and there aren't any now," she said. "She
knows only the Pritchards."
"Hooray! I shall harp on the Marleys morning, noon, and night!"
"She'll like you," observed Elsie wistfully. "You know she spoke in her
letter of young life."
"I shall adore her, dear old thing!" cried the warm-hearted girl. "And
Uncle John will adore you. He adored my mother, who was quiet and
deep like you. He was always sending her rare things, and pitying her
because she was poor and longing to send her money, though dad
wouldn't have that."
The appearance of an expressman warned them that they were nearing
Boston.
"You're perfectly sure that you're willing to exchange New York for
Enderby?" demanded Elsie Moss suddenly.
"Oh, yes, indeed, Elsie."
"And you don't yearn for Cousin Julia?"
Elsie Marley half smiled. "Oh, no," she declared.

But the other was determined not to take any undue advantage.
"Now listen," she said; "if after you see Uncle John you don't fancy him,
just say the word or nudge me or wink and I'll swap back without a
word. I'll simply step up and say, 'Oh, Uncle John, you've kissed the
wrong girl!' though, of course, he may be too dignified to kiss at a train.
And then I'll introduce you properly."
They sped on. Soon a trainman entered to say that the next station was
Boston and request them not to leave any articles in the car. They said
good-by to each other before the train stopped, kissing warmly like real
friends. Then Elsie Moss tied a large, dark veil over her hat and well
down over her forehead and eyes. It looked as inappropriate for the hot
day as the scowling expression she assumed to cloak the dimples was
ill suited to her charming little face.
As they alighted, and a handsome, distinguished-looking gentleman in
grey clerical garb advanced to meet them, she fell behind. Raising his
hat, he took the hand of the girl who was not his niece.
"And this is Elsie?" he said in a fine, kindly voice.
She murmured a weak affirmative. He kissed her affectionately, took
her portmanteau from the porter, and turned to the girl who had come
from the car with her.
"And this is your friend, Elsie?" he