“What is the name of the school?” asked Katy. Her voice sound a good deal like a sob.
“The girls call it ‘The Nunnery.’ It is at Hillsover, on the Connecticut River, pretty cold, I fancy; but the air is sure to be good and bracing. That is one thing which has inclined me to the plan. The climate is just what you need.”
“Hillsover? Isn’t there a college there too?”
“Yes: Arrowmouth College. I believe there is always a college where there is a boarding-school; though why, I can’t for the life of me imagine. That’s neither here nor there, however. I’m not afraid of your getting into silly scrapes, as girls sometimes do.”
“College scrapes? Why, how could I. We don’t have any thing to do with the college, do we?” said Katy, opening her candid eyes with such a wondering stare that Dr. Carr laughed and replied: “No, my dear, not a thing.”
“The term opens the third week in April,” he went on. “You must begin to get ready at once. Mrs. Hall has just fitted out Cecy: so she can tell you what you will need. You’d better consult her, to-morrow.”
“But, papa,” cried Katy, beginning to realize it, “what are you going to do? Elsie’s a darling, but she’s so very little. I don’t see how you can possibly manage. I’m sure you’ll miss us, and so will the children.”
“I rather think we shall,” said Dr. Carr, with a smile, which ended in a sigh; “but we shall do very well, Katy; never fear. Miss Finch will see to us.”
“Miss Finch? Do you mean Mrs. Knight’s sister-in-law?”
“Yes. Her mother died in the summer; so she has no particular home now, and is glad to come for a year and keep house for us. Mrs. Knight says she is a good manager; and I dare say she’ll fill your place sufficiently well, as far as that goes. We can’t expect her to be you, you know: that would be unreasonable.” And Dr. Carr put his arm round Katy, and kissed her so fondly that she was quite overcome and clung to him, crying,—
“O papa! don’t make us go. I’ll frisk, and be as young as I can, and not grow middle-aged or any thing disagreeable, if only you’ll let us stay. Never mind what Cousin Olivia says; she doesn’t know. Cousin Helen wouldn’t say so, I’m sure.”
“On the contrary, Helen thinks well of the plan; only she wishes the school were nearer,” said Dr. Carr. “No, Katy, don’t coax. My mind is made up. It will do you and Clover both good, and once you are settled at Hillsover, you’ll be very happy, I hope.”
When papa spoke in this decided tone, it was never any use to urge him. Katy knew this, and ceased her pleadings. She went to find Clover and tell her the news, and the two girls had a hearty cry together. A sort of “clearing-up shower” it turned out to be; for when once they had wiped their eyes, every thing looked brighter, and they began to see a pleasant side to the plan.
“The travelling part of it will be very nice,” pronounced Clover.
“We never went so far away from home before.”
Elsie, who was still looking very woeful, burst into tears afresh at this remark.
“Oh, don’t darling!” said Katy. “Think how pleasant it will be to send letters, and to get them from us. I shall write to you every Saturday. Run for the big atlas,—there’s a dear, and let us see where we are going.”
Elsie brought the atlas; and the three heads bent eagerly over it, as Clover traced the route of the journey with her forefinger. How exciting it looked! There was the railroad, twisting and curving over half-a-dozen States. The black dots which followed it were towns and villages, all of which they should see. By and by the road made a bend, and swept northward by the side of the Connecticut River and toward the hills. They had heard how beautiful the Connecticut valley is.
“Only think! we shall be close to it,” remarked Clover; “and we shall see the hills. I suppose they are very high, a great deal higher than the hill at Bolton.”
“I hope so,” laughed Dr. Carr, who came into the room just then. The hill at Bolton was one of his favorite jokes. When mamma first came to Burnet, she had paid a visit to some friends at Bolton, and one day, when they were all out walking, they asked her if she felt strong enough to go to the top of the hill. Mamma was used to hills, so she said yes, and walked on, very glad to find that there was a hill in that flat country, but wondering a little why they did not see it. At last she asked where it was, and, behold, they had just reached the top! The slope had been so gradual that she had never found out that they were going uphill at all. Dr. Carr had told this story to the children, but had never been able to make them see the joke very clearly. In fact, when Clover went to Bolton, she was quite struck with the hill: it was so much higher than the sand-bank which bordered the lake at Burnet.
There was a great deal to do to make the girls ready for school by the third week in April. Mrs. Hall was very kind, and her advice was sensible; though, except for Dr. Carr, the girls would hardly have had furs and flannels enough for so cold a place as Hillsover. Every thing for winter as well as for summer had to be thought of; for it had been arranged that the girls should not come home for the autumn vacation, but should spend it with Mrs. Page. This was the hardest thing about the plan. Katy begged very hard for Christmas; but when she learned that it would take three days to come and three days to go, and that the holidays lasted less than a week, she saw it was of no use, and gave up the idea, while Elsie tried to comfort herself by planning a Christmas-box. The preparations kept them so busy that there was no time for any thing else. Mrs. Hall was always wanting them to go with her to shops, or Miss Petingill demanding that they should try on linings, and so the days flew by. At last all was ready. The nice half-dozens of pretty underclothes came home from the sewing-machine woman’s, and were done up by Bridget, who dropped many a tear into the bluing water, at the thought of the young ladies going away. Mrs. Hall, who was a good packer, put the things into the new trunks. Everybody gave the girls presents, as if they had been brides starting on a wedding journey.
Papa’s was a watch for each. They were not new, but the girls thought them beautiful. Katy’s had belonged to her mother. It was large and old-fashioned, with a finely wrought case. Clover’s, which had been her grandmother’s, was larger still. It had a quaint ornament on the back,—a sort of true-love knot, done in gold of different tints. The girls were excessively pleased with these watches. They wore them with guard-chains of black watered ribbon, and every other minute they looked to see what the time was.
Elsie had been in papa’s confidence, so her presents were watch cases, embroidered on perforated paper. Johnnie gave Katy a case of pencils, and Clover a pen-knife with a pearl handle. Dorry and Phil clubbed to buy a box of note-paper and envelopes, which the girls were requested to divide between them. Miss Petingill contributed a bottle of ginger balsam, and a box of opodeldoc salve, to be used in case of possible chilblains. Old Mary’s offering was a couple of needle-books, full of bright sharp needles.
“I wouldn’t give you scissors,” she said; “but you can’t cut love—or, for the matter of that, any thing else—with a needle.”
Miss Finch, the new housekeeper, arrived a few days before they started: so Katy had time to take her over the house and explain all the different things she wanted done and not done, to secure papa’s comfort and the children’s. Miss Finch was meek and gentle. She seemed glad of a comfortable home. And Katy felt that she would be kind to the boys, and not fret Debby, and drive her into marrying Alexander and going away,—an event which Aunt Izzie had been used to predict. Now that all was settled, she and Clover found themselves looking forward to the change with pleasure. There was something new and interesting about it which excited their