Dorothy's Tour. Raymond Evelyn

dear.”

      Dorothy, taking the two packages and kissing her aunt, murmured: “You dear, dear Aunt Betty. I must see what’s inside.”

      She carefully opened the first and exclaimed as she drew forth a long pair of white gloves, “Oh, goody, goody. Just what I have been longing for.” And then opening the second package she found it contained a very beautiful Irish crochetted collar. “Aunt Betty! You dear, dear Aunt Betty. Just think how fine this will look with my gray coat. Just like all the girls we see here in New York. You are the best aunt ever a girl had.”

      Dorothy then gathered up her treasures and took them with her into the next room to put them away.

      Aunt Betty went into Alfy’s room and said, “Alfy dear, if you will give me your coat I will help you sew the collar on it so you can wear it this afternoon.”

      “Oh! that will be fine! I can wear it to the concert. And can I wear the red hair ribbon Ma Babcock bought me from Liza Jane’s?” said Alfy.

      “Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling,” rang the telephone bell. Dorothy rushed across the room to answer it and found that Mr. Ludlow was waiting for her below in a taxicab.

      “Good-bye, Aunt Betty, dear,” called Dorothy; then running into her Aunt’s room she kissed her several times. “You will all surely come. I do need you all there.”

      “We’ll be there in plenty of time, Dorothy dear,” answered Aunt Betty. “Now run along girlie, and don’t forget your violin.”

      “Here it is,” cried Alfy from the next room, “I’ll bring it to you.”

      “You’re a dear, Alfy,” called Dorothy, who by this time was already in the hall.

      Mr. Ludlow escorted Dorothy to the taxicab, getting in with her and, shutting the door, he directed the driver to go to Carnegie Hall.

      “Well, Dorothy, child,” asked Mr. Ludlow, “is everything all right? You are not scared, are you? You just try to do your best and everything will be fine.”

      “I’m not scared, I’m sure of that; but do you think the people will like me?” questioned Dorothy.

      “Sure of that, my dear, sure of that. All you must do is just be your very own self,” laughed Mr. Ludlow. “But here we are and we must get out.”

      The driver stopped the cab and they quickly descended and walked into the building.

      “Now, Dorothy, I am going to show you around the place. Just follow me,” directed Mr. Ludlow.

      Dorothy looked at the large room and the many chairs and said hesitatingly, “Will it be crowded?” – and when Mr. Ludlow said he hoped so, she sighed and murmured: “My, what a lot of people I shall have to please!” then she added softly to herself, “Jim, Alfy and Aunt Betty; they will surely be pleased and the rest will, too, if I can make them.”

      Mr. Ludlow then led Dorothy to the stage and made her walk up and down and all over the place so that she would get familiar with it.

      “Mr. Ludlow,” asked Dorothy, “where shall I stand?”

      “Right about here,” answered Mr. Ludlow, walking to the front of the stage and a little to the left. “Don’t face directly front.”

      “Is this right?” asked Dorothy, taking the position Mr. Ludlow requested.

      “That will do, – that will do just right,” answered Mr. Ludlow. “Now come inside and I will take you to see some of the noted artists who are going to play or sing.” He led Dorothy in from the stage and through a long narrow passage which terminated in a large room where there were numerous chairs, tables and couches. Dorothy noticed three or four girls talking together in the center of the room but those in other groups all seemed to be older.

      Mr. Ludlow walked over to the group in the center of the room and addressing a small, fair girl, said, “Good afternoon, Miss Boothington.”

      The girl turned and seeing Mr. Ludlow, exclaimed, “Mr. Ludlow, I am so glad you are here. I did want you to hear my singing and criticize. You will, will you not?”

      “Miss Boothington, that shall be as you please. But now let me present you to a little friend of mine. This,” remarked Mr. Ludlow, turning to Dorothy, “is Miss Dorothy Calvert, and Dorothy, this is my ward, Miss Ruth Boothington. Miss Boothington sings, and will be one of our companions on your trip.”

      “I am so glad to meet you, Miss Calvert,” replied Miss Boothington.

      “As we are to be so much together, please call me Dorothy if you will,” interrupted Dorothy.

      “And you will call me Ruth,” Miss Boothington remarked. “I know we shall have some very fine times together. And you are a solo violinist?”

      “Yes, I play the violin,” answered Dorothy. “Are you going to sing to-day?”

      “Yes,” answered Ruth. “At least I am going to try to.”

      “Here, here. That will never do, Miss Ruth. You should have said that you would sing. Of course you would sing,” remarked Mr. Ludlow. Turning to Dorothy, he said, “Well, Dorothy, I think I shall leave you here with Miss Boothington. I guess she can take care of you. I am going to the front and will sit with your Aunt Betty.”

      With that Mr. Ludlow left the two girls and walked out and around front where he looked for Aunt Betty.

      “Is this the place? My, ain’t it big!” exclaimed Alfy, as Aunt Betty and Jim followed her to the door.

      “I have our tickets here,” remarked Jim, presenting them to the doorkeeper.

      “I guess we shall have to go right in and get our seats,” added Aunt Betty. “Keep close to me, Alfy, and Jim, you see that Alfy doesn’t get lost.”

      They were at last ushered into a large box on the right side of the house.

      “My, what a lot of seats. Is there going to be people in all of them?” asked Alfy, leaning so far out of the box that she almost fell over the rail.

      “Here! You sit still,” sharply corrected Jim. “And, Alfy, try to act like a young lady, not like a back-woods little girl. Sit still.”

      Alfy reluctantly subsided and appeared to be rather angry. Aunt Betty, noticing this said, “Watch me, Alfy, and do as I do and you will be all right.”

      “Good-afternoon, Mr. Ludlow,” said Jim, making room for him.

      “Good-afternoon, all,” answered Mr. Ludlow, seating himself next Aunt Betty.

      “Did you come to keep us company all the afternoon?” asked Aunt Betty. “Or did you just wish to hear Dorothy play?”

      “I thought you wouldn’t mind if I sat with you,” replied Mr. Ludlow. “I have quite a few young friends who are to help entertain us this afternoon. I do hope you shall enjoy them.”

      Ruth had, in the meantime, presented Dorothy to the other girls in the group, and they all chattered gayly for a while.

      Ruth glanced at her watch, and drawing Dorothy aside, said, “Let’s sit down quietly for a few minutes, and say nothing at all. It always helps to calm you and give you self-possession.”

      The girls walked to a far end of the room and sat down, keeping silent for several minutes.

      Then Ruth broke the silence by asking, “Where is your violin, Dorothy?”

      “I guess it’s over there where we were standing before,” replied Dorothy, rising and making her way quickly to the spot. But no violin was visible.

      “My!” exclaimed Ruth. “What did you do with it?”

      “Oh,” lamented Dorothy, “I don’t know.”

      “Where did you have it last?” questioned Ruth.

      “I had it home in the hotel,” moaned Dorothy, most in tears. “I remember I did bring it. Alfy handed it to me and I took it in the taxi.”

      “In