Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer — Part 147

“You haven’t got to if you don’t want to, little Blue Robin,” declared her friend, who perhaps suspected how things were. “But I tell you what, friend Nathalie—” emphatically—“if I had a nice little voice like a certain Robin I know, with big brown eyes, and knew how to use those big eyes and that sweet little tru-al-lee of a voice by telling people stories, or talking to them—it’s all the same—well, I’d waste no time in accepting that offer. And then, too, see what pleasure it would bring Nita and her mother, too, for that matter. Of course, I’m a man and look at things from a commercial point of view; ah, here we are!” And then with a cheery farewell the doctor helped the girl out of the car and Nathalie walked slowly up the path.

To Nathalie’s surprise, her mother thought as the doctor did about the matter. She was not hurt at all, but overjoyed to think that Nathalie was clever enough to earn money that way.

“Why, Nathalie,” she mused, pleasantly, “you can do lots of things with the money you earn. It probably won’t be much, but it will give you pin-money, and a few necessities. Perhaps it will pay your way to camp!”

“Now, Mumsie,” laughed the girl with a trill of glee in her voice, “remember about counting your chicks before they’re hatched!”

She turned and ran swiftly up-stairs, and after imparting her good news to Dick, she sat down and penned her note to Mrs. Van Vorst, all her doubts and fears at rest. And she knew what she would do with the money, it came like a flash into her mind as she looked up and saw Dick plodding through an official-looking document.

After the note was mailed, there were just a few minutes left to run over and tell Mrs. Morrow what had transpired in regard to the lawn for the Flag Drill, and to announce, with joy shining in every feature, that they could have the drill on the fourteenth. Then came a few minutes at Helen’s, where the news was also told, two surprises, Nathalie declared, after she had unburdened herself to that young lady of the many things she had been bottling up for the last few weeks.

But Nathalie’s day of surprises was to bear more fruit, for about five o’clock the postman delivered a package by parcel post, a big box that had a very mysterious look about it. “I don’t see what it can be?” she soliloquized, as she looked at the address. And then, “Oh, Mother, do you know where the scissors are?” as she found that her fingers were too unsteady with haste to untie the string.