Chapter 7 THE PARTY

Lights blazed from every window of the stone house, the great garden was brilliantly lighted, even the twinkling stars overhead seemed brighter than usual, as if they knew of the party, and were laughing as they watched the little guests arriving.

Lightly they stepped from their carriages, and flew up the steps as if their feet had wings.

What was their surprise to see the manservant, at the door as usual, to be sure, but in a fine old suit of livery that made him look like an English serving-man of many, many years ago.

Yes, there was the maid in the hall in a cute Watteau costume, a tiny lace cap on her head, and a kerchief over her flowered gown. She presented her salver, and each little guest laid a card upon it, with the name of the character which she represented. These were merely to be kept as souvenirs, that later Dorothy might look them over, and see what a variety of noted personages had called to do her honor.

They were not to be announced, for while the names of the girls' costumes would not tell which girl wore it, the characters that the boys took would of course be male personages.

So the little guests tripped through the great hall, and into the long drawing-room, where another surprise awaited them.

There stood handsome Mr. Dainty in royal robes, as a king, his beautiful wife in velvet and ermine as his queen, and gentle Aunt Charlotte as lady-in-waiting.

How quaint the little figures looked in their long, cloak-like dominoes of red, blue, pink, green, white, lilac, and indeed every known color and tint.

As they each extended a little hand, they peeped at host and hostess through the eyeholes in their dominoes, and if they were recognized, they did not know it.

Now and then a ripple of stifled laughter told how greatly they enjoyed their disguise.

When all had been greeted, Mrs. Dainty raised her sceptre, and when the little figures were all attention she spoke.

"Dear little subjects, we are happy to have you with us, and for a short time we wish you to wear the long dominoes which keep us guessing who you are. And now we will listen to some music, and while you listen you shall enjoy a wealth of royal bonbons."

At a signal from the queen the little Watteau maid entered, followed by five other maids in similar costumes, each bearing trays of candies.

At the same moment sweet strains of music sounded through the room, coming from behind a group of palms and flowering plants.

The bonbons were delicious, and the merry music set little feet tapping beneath the long cloaks.

Two figures sat very close together. One wore a bright yellow cloak, the other domino was a quiet tan color. They were Arabella and Patricia, and while they sat eating their bonbons, they talked softly, that no one might hear them. A little figure in a long red cloak leaned against the wall, listening to the music, and at the same time watching the two who talked together.

It was Reginald who watched them, and his eyes twinkled as he whispered:

"I just know that those two are girls, and they've gone and told each other who they are. I'd like to know who they are, too, and I guess I'll walk over there."

He made his way across the room, and soon was standing just behind them.

The musicians were playing a sprightly polka. A triangle marked the measures, and Reginald's red shoe tapped the floor beneath his long red cloak.

The two who sat upon the divan were talking in what they thought to be a very low tone, but when suddenly the music ceased, Patricia's voice could be plainly heard,

"Why, Arabella!" she said, and then, surprised at hearing her own voice, she said no more.

Reginald laughed softly, and Patricia turned to look at him, but of course could not guess who the red-cloaked figure might be. Oh, it was fun to be hiding behind the gay-colored dominoes! It was almost like hide-and-seek.

And now the beautiful queen was speaking.

"We will have a pretty march now," she said. "My king and I will lead, my lady-in-waiting will follow me, while you, my merry subjects, shall form, two by two, and march to grandest music. After the march, the dominoes shall be cast aside, and then-" she paused, then laughing gaily she concluded, "then I shall know who my guests are."

The trumpet's blare told all to be ready! The king and queen came down from their red velvet throne, the stately lady-in-waiting followed, and then the bright-hued figures, two by two, marched like a moving rainbow after the tall figures who led.

Around the great drawing-room in graceful figures the gorgeous little procession moved. How bright their colors appeared, the light shimmering upon a pink cloak beside a blue one, a green cloak walking with a yellow one, a scarlet one with a white, a buff one with bright cherry-hued domino!

But the greatest excitement came when, after the march, the colored cloaks were cast aside, and the laughing playmates were revealed.

"Did you know me?"

"Did you guess who I was?"

"Did you know you were talking to me?"

These were the questions which they asked each other, and the gracious king and queen looked down upon their merry courtiers, and admired their brilliant costumes.

And what a variety there was! First of all, Dorothy, as an elf in gauze and spangles, was a lovely sprite to look upon.

Near her stood Nancy, dressed as a shepherdess. Dorothy's cousin, Russell Dalton, made a charming page, while his sister, Aline, was a flower girl. Reginald strutted about in an early Spanish costume, and he had chosen his own dress.

"I can't look old enough for Ponce de Leon," he had said, "but I want a suit like the one he wears in the painting that hangs in the hall."

His wish had been granted, and he looked like a tiny cavalier about to sally forth in search of fortune, or undiscovered countries.

Mollie Merton made a pretty Red-riding-hood, while, as usual, close beside her, stood Flossie Barnet as Little Bo-Peep.

"Anybody'd know I'm Bo-peep, because I've this crook in my hand," said Flossie, "but look at Nina and Jeanette; what are they?"

"We're Spring and Summer," Jeanette answered with a laugh at Flossie's little puzzled face, "I am a rose, and she's a crocus," she continued, "and have you seen Katie Dean yet? She's a lovely butterfly. There she is now."

They all turned to look at Katie as she came toward them. She was indeed a dainty butterfly. Her frock of yellow gauze matched her wings, which were edged with gold, and as she ran toward them, she looked as if she might fly if she wished.

Arabella looked very demure as a little Puritan, and really, Patricia's showy Spanish costume was becoming.

There were many more guests, and all were in beautiful costumes. The room was alive with color, and when, later, they danced to merry music, it seemed, indeed, a joyous carnival.

The games came next, and how they played! And of all the games they found one very old one to be the most delightful. Some one asked if they might play it, and thus it happened that the king announced that the next would be "A Journey to Nubia."

The maids entered, and quickly placed two rows of chairs, back to back, down the centre of the room, placing one less chair than there were children.

When the music sounded they were to march around and around the rows of chairs, but when the music should stop abruptly, they must rush to get a seat. The one child who would be left standing must pay a forfeit.

A stirring march was played, and the children walked around the chairs, and every time that they came to the end of the line they paused, believing that the music would cease, but the musicians played on and on. The laughing children marched gaily, when, in the middle of a lively strain, the music stopped, and they rushed for seats.

It was Nancy who found no chair, and she knew that she must pay a forfeit.

"What shall I do?" she asked, and Russell, who liked Nancy, asked if he might set the task for her.

He was given permission, and turning to her he said: "I'll ask something, Nancy, that I know you can do. I'll beg you to dance for us."

"Oh, you need not beg," Nancy said sweetly, "if they will play a waltz, I'll gladly dance for you."

Softly they played a bewitching melody, and Nancy, running out to an open space, danced till those who watched her were wild with delight. And when the dance was finished they crowded around her, crying in wonder:

"Oh, Nancy, how can you do it so gracefully?"

"You wouldn't wonder if you only knew how long I studied, and how many hours I practised," she said.

"I couldn't dance like that if I practised for ten years," said Russell.

"I don't believe he could," laughed his sister Aline, "his talent is surely not for dancing, for only the other day he told me that at dancing-school, just as sure as he tried not to step on his partner's toes, he always trod on his own."

"It's just what I do," agreed Russell, joining in the laughter that greeted Aline's words.

Again and again they marched around the double row of chairs, and each time the one caught standing was made to pay a forfeit, to the delight of all the others.

For the next game they clasped hands and formed a great ring. Dorothy, in the centre, extended her arms as she sang this verse:

"As around you gaily dance,

I must see if, just by chance,

In your ring which has no end,

You do hold my dearest friend.

Yes, my truest friend I see,

Nancy, dearest, come to me."

Nancy ran into the circle, and the others, clasping hands, danced around them singing gaily:

"See the happy, merry two,

One with brown eyes, one with blue,

One is dark and one is fair,

Which of us will join them there?"

It was Nancy's turn now to choose a friend from the ring, and she at once chose Flossie.

Flossie was the youngest of the little guests, and she was delighted to be so soon chosen.

Unnoticed by the children, several new arrivals had entered the room. They were a few of Mrs. Dainty's nearest neighbors who had been invited to come in during the evening and see the merrymaking.

As Flossie stood in the centre of the ring with Dorothy and Nancy, she looked toward the playmates who circled around them, and was about to choose Mollie, when she spied Uncle Harry, and she laughed with delight. He was dressed as an English squire of an early century. Quickly she whispered to Dorothy.

"May I, oh, may I?" she asked.

"Yes, oh, do," laughed Dorothy.

"I choose you, Uncle Harry," she cried, "oh, come quick."

Never too dignified to have a bit of fun, and always ready to please the children, he hurried forward and entered the ring.

"As if I'd lose a moment in joining three such charming young ladies," he said, while the laughing children danced yet faster around the merry four.

How handsome he looked as he stood among his little friends. A brave, athletic young man he was, with a heart full of love for the children, who returned his affection with interest.

"Now, Uncle Harry, it's your turn to sing," said Flossie. "Do you know the verse you ought to sing?"

"I don't believe I do know the one which belongs in this game, but I'll sing one of my own," he said with a laugh.

"You are so charming, all in a ring,

Hardly I know of which siren to sing,

Yet if I must choose, then it shall be

Mollie, bright Mollie to come unto me."

His was a fine voice, and he sang his improvised verse to the music of one of his favorite songs, "Beautiful Dreamer."

"Oh, I wish you had to sing ever so many verses," Jeanette said impulsively, and he bowed to her earnestly spoken compliment.

They had paused for a moment to rest, and for a time their hands were unclasped. Patricia thought that this was just her chance. She touched Arabella's arm.

"Come," she whispered, and Arabella followed.

It happened that no one noticed that the two had left their playmates, and soon they were flying around in a circle, singing their verses, and choosing as before.

The conservatory was brightly lighted, and the perfume of the flowers was rich and heavy. The fountain plashed in its shallow basin, and it seemed like a glimpse of fairyland. Patricia looked about to see if any one had followed them, but no one was near.

"Now this is what I'm going to show you," she said. "You see that one lovely fountain?"

Oh, yes, Arabella saw that.

"Well, there's two fountains, and I know where the other one is. I'll let you try to find it first, and if you can't find it, I'll show it to you."

"How do you know where it is?" questioned Arabella.

Patricia looked very important.

"I know, because I do know," she said.

Arabella looked into this corner, and peeped into that, and between them they managed to tip over some small pots of valuable plants, but the music and laughter in the drawing-room prevented any sounds in the conservatory from being heard. At last Arabella was disgusted.

"I don't believe there's two fountains," she said.

"Then I'll show you," said Patricia, "and I'll tell you how I know. Just see here," and she pointed to the jet of water which flew high in air, letting fall a veil of mist and spray.

"That's where the butler turns the water on to set the fountain playing. I was in here once when I saw him turn that little thing round, and I saw the water fly right up in a minute."

Arabella watched Patricia closely.

"But where's the other fountain?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh, you'll see in a second. Come over here," Patricia said, laughing softly.

"There! that's another fountain."

"There!" she said, pointing to a pipe that ran along the floor beneath a shelf filled with flowering plants; "that's another fountain, and I should think they'd have both playing when they have a party."

"That's not a fountain!" said Arabella.

"Well, I guess I know, and so will you in a second, for I'm going to set it going. See here!"

"Fizz-z-sss!"

A cloud of steam filled the little conservatory, and the two frightened girls screamed with terror, believing that nothing less than an explosion had happened. The servants rushed in and quickly turned off the steam, while Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte, who had hastened to the rescue, tried to quiet the fear of the mischief-makers.

Not a word was said of the beautiful plants which were now completely ruined, and Mrs. Dainty's kindness made Patricia feel ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and no one had ever before heard her say that.

Arabella was fairly hysterical, laughing and crying at the same time, but Aunt Charlotte at last succeeded in calming her, and when the little banquet was announced, they joined the other children, and were as happy as any of the merry party that marched out to the great dining-room.