The Mandie Collection : Volume 11 by Lois Gladys Leppard

Author:Lois Gladys Leppard
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Children’s stories, North Carolina—History—20th century—Fiction, Orphans—Fiction, Christian life—Fiction, Family life—North Carolina—Fiction, American, JUV033010, JUV033000, Mystery and detective stories
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Published: 2012-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Errors

Mandie couldn’t think about a single other thing all weekend. Finally Monday morning came and Mandie once again asked Uncle Cal to go to her grandmother’s house, not far from the school in Asheville, North Carolina, and take a message that she urgently needed to see her.

“We’ll stay right here in the parlor until you come back, Uncle Cal,” Mandie told the old man. She and Celia didn’t have a class scheduled for another hour.

“I’ll hurry right back, Missy,” Uncle Cal told her, heading for the front door.

And this time he returned with a note for Miss Prudence, asking that Ben, Mrs. Taft’s driver, pick up the two girls at the school at four o’clock and bring them to her house for supper. She sent Mandie a separate note explaining that she was arranging for their visit.

Mandie had a hard time keeping her mind on the classes she had to attend that day. She was wishing for the time to come to go to her grandmother’s house. Celia didn’t have much hope that Mrs. Taft could really do anything about her not being accepted at the College of Charleston.

Late that afternoon the girls joined Mrs. Taft in her parlor.

“Now, what is this all about, Amanda? What is so urgent?” Mrs. Taft asked, looking from one girl to the other.

“Oh, Grandmother, Celia was not accepted at the College of Charleston because they said her application was too late and they were filled up,” Mandie began, hurriedly speaking without even taking a breath.

Mrs. Taft turned to look at Celia. “Why, my dear, was your application really too late to be considered?” Mrs. Taft asked.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what this letter says,” Celia replied, taking the letter from her pocket and handing it to Mrs. Taft.

Mrs. Taft read the letter and then asked, “Well, what is your mother going to do about it?”

“I wrote her a letter but of course it’ll take the mail a while to get to her,” Celia replied.

“Mail? Does your mother not have a telephone?” Mrs. Taft asked.

“No, ma’am, not yet. The electricity has not been run all the way out in the country to our house yet,” Celia explained.

“Grandmother, since you are right here for us to talk to I thought perhaps you could do something about this,” Mandie suggested.

“No, Amanda, that would not be proper without having consulted Celia’s mother,” Mrs. Taft said. “But I have another idea. We’ll just ask our sheriff here to call the sheriff near your home, Celia, and give Jane the news. Our sheriff has a phone and I’m sure yours must have, too. I must get around to having a telephone installed here in my house. I’ve just been so busy since they ran the wires out this way I haven’t had time to do it.” She suddenly stood up. “Therefore we must hurry down to the sheriff’s office and talk with him before he goes home to supper.”

“Yes, ma’am,” both girls said as they followed her into the hall.

Mrs. Taft had timed it just right.

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