THE FANCY BALL.
The best cure for anxiety, short of removing it altogether, is plenty of
work. Molly came down from her interview with Jane Macalister with a
sickening sense of coming disaster filling her heart. Hers was not a
particularly hopeful nature. By nature she was inclined to look at the
dark side rather than at the bright. She had plenty of courage and was
unselfish to a fault; but when she arrived in the hall now and found all
the rest of the children gathered round Hester and was greeted by peals
of excited laughter and shouts of excited joy, she would have given a
great deal to have been able to run away and hide herself.
This was impossible, however; she was dragged into the eager group of
children, and was obliged not only to listen to their remarks, but to
make suggestions of her own. In the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Lorrimer,
Molly had to decide whether the ball-room could be used or not. She
would have given the world to say no, but scarcely dared to do this with
all those eager delighted faces gazing at her.
"I am sure mother will consent," she said after a pause. "I will write
to her to-day and ask her; but I think we may act as if her consent were
already given. Now, shall we come to the ball-room and see what is
necessary to be done?"
"Oh, what a darling Molly you are," exclaimed all the other Lorrimers in
a breath. She found herself whirled in their midst to the old
ball-room, and the rest of the morning was spent in eager and animated
discussion.
This magnificent old room was apart from the rest of the house. It was
entered by a covered way from one of the drawing-rooms; but this
entrance had long been closed, and the room itself--since the family
purse had become so low--was only made use of as a play-room for the
children in wet weather, and as a place for all kinds of lumber and
rubbish. Hester and Molly were neither of them artistic in their tastes
or ideas, but they were intensely practical in all they said and did.
Molly proposed that the room should be first cleared out and thoroughly
cleaned, and that early on the following morning Annie Forest should
come and see it. The room was lit by seven tall Gothic windows, and had
a high arched roof of oak. Round the windows the thick ivy which only
years can produce hung in heavy masses. Some of this must be cleared
away, and some light draperies must relieve the dark tone of the walls.
The gallery was pronounced sufficiently sound for the band to stand
there, and Annie's original idea of placing Nora in the gallery as a
sort of queen of the ceremonies was superseded by a better one. She was
to have a special throne made for her at the other end of the ball-room.
There she would not only see perfectly, but would also be seen. It
seemed simple enough to have a ball in such a lovely room, and Hester
arranged to send some men over that very afternoon to begin the work of
clearing out the rubbish.
"We don't wish to take possession of the Towers," she said. "We only
want the loan of the ball-room, and of this delightful lawn just
beyond, where we can put up a marquee or tent."
"No, no," exclaimed Molly, "it must be all or nothing. You know how big
our entrance hall is, Hester, and those great half-empty drawing rooms.
The whole ground floor is to be at your disposal. If we do it at all,
let it be a real merry-making. It will be nice to have a merry-making
once again at the Towers."
Molly sighed as she spoke. Hester glanced at her, and the remark in her
father's letter flashed through her brain.
While the others were planning and talking at least twenty words to the
dozen, Nell was looking solemnly up at the tall windows with an
expression of ecstacy on her small face. Boris came up presently and
pulled her hand.
"What are you in a brown study for?" he asked.
"Oh, Boris," she exclaimed, flashing round on him; "it is more a white
dream than a brown study. Fancy this room all lit with Chinese lanterns
and the moon outside, and us sitting up until twelve o'clock, and music,
Boris, and everybody dancing. The story books will have come true--oh,
it will be too lovely."
"I'm thinking of the supper," said Boris. "I expect I'll get awful
peckish sitting up so late. I hope there'll be jellies--I love jellies;
don't you, Nell?"
"Yes; I heard Hester say there was to be a real band. I wonder if
they'll play any of the airs out of _Faust_. I do so love the Soldier's
Chorus, don't you?"
"Yes; I'll march to it when I'm big. Nell, do you think I'll be allowed
to have as many cakes as I wish, and _pate de foie gras_? I tasted it
once and 'twas ripping."
"I like it, too, rather," said Nell in a contemplative voice. "I mean to
be a fairy in the dance, though, and I'll have wings. Wings! how I wish
they'd bear me upward."
"Oh, do come out," exclaimed Boris. "I want to show you my dove's cage;
it was ever so musty, but I've cleaned it out, and it's as sweet as a
nut now."
The children left the room, and a few moments later Hester and Molly
returned to the Grange.
That evening Annie Forest had a very comprehensive scheme drawn out with
regard to the proposed characters which the different members of the
party were to adopt. Molly would make an ideal shepherdess. Hester was
to be in white, and was to represent St Agnes. Nora was to be Queen of
the Fairies, and Nan little Bo-Peep. Annie had not yet decided on her
own character, but was strongly inclined to act the part of a gipsy.
Annie further suggested that it would save a great deal of trouble and
have a decidedly pretty effect if all the girls under twelve years of
age were dressed as white fairies, with wings, and all the boys of the
same age as brownies. She considered that so many fairies and brownies
would have a very picturesque effect, and would help to throw up the gay
_bizarre_ colours of the older girls and boys.
Her suggestion was immediately adopted, and Hester and Molly sat down
then and there to write invitations.
Besides the Lorrimers, about a hundred and forty other children were
invited, and the girls expected that quite sixty or seventy of these
would take the parts of fairies and brownies.
"You don't know how relieved the mothers will be," exclaimed Annie.
"When people have no imagination it is the most difficult thing in the
world to think of a dress for a fancy ball which has not been adopted
dozens and dozens of times before. Please keep the notes open for a
moment, Hester, for I mean to slip into each of them some very simple
directions with regard to the dress, which will insure our having a
certain amount of uniformity."
Annie was in her element now, and even Molly was constrained to admire
the absolute genius which she showed in all matters which required tact
and brisk, quick work. Annie could write fluently, and her little slips
of paper, with their simple and plain directions, were soon ready, and
Molly and Hester set to work making copies of them as fast as they
could. The letters of invitation were all posted before they went to bed
that night. Nora shut her eyes to dream of herself as queen of the
fairies, and Molly and Hester sat down to write letters which required a
little more thought than the invitations which had just been got
through. Hester wrote--
"DEAR FATHER,
"I am sorry you are still away; I like to feel that I am of use to
you. Whenever you come back you will have a hearty welcome from me.
We are all well here and the weather is splendid; even Nora is
quite well, although the doctor says she must lie on her back for
some weeks longer. Annie is still with us, and Molly has been
staying here to help look after Nora; not that she is wanted much
for that post, for Annie is the most indefatigable nurse, and Nora
simply adores her. But Molly is great company for me and I am
delighted to have her, she is such a dear girl. I hope what you say
about Squire Lorrimer is not true. I can see that Molly is very
anxious, and the Squire and Mrs. Lorrimer have just gone to London,
which is quite unusual. There is evidently something the matter,
but none of the children have been told what it is. How I wish you
could help the Squire, father. I know you are very very rich, and
oh, it will break Molly's heart if they have to leave the dear old
Towers. Now, I must talk to you about Nan's birthday. We are going
to have a children's ball in the old ball-room at the Towers. It is
going to be quite lovely. Annie is designing our dresses. She makes
us all quite enthusiastic, she has such exquisite taste. I hope you
will come home in time to see us in our pretty dresses. I am to be
St. Agnes, and Annie says that I shall look like a dream! Did you
ever think that your sensible Hetty would talk such folly?--Your
affectionate daughter,
"HESTER THORNTON."
Hester finished her letter, folded it up, and addressed it. She then
glanced towards Molly, whose fair head was bent low over the sheet of
paper which she was filling. She wrote--
"DARLING MOTHER,
"I went to the Towers this morning with Hester and found that you
had gone. Is anything the matter? Oh, if I had been at home you
might have told me. I can't bear either you or father to have a
burden that I don't share. I feel anxious and unhappy, but I will
try very hard to be brave. Nonie is getting on so nicely, and Annie
Forest is very kind to her. Mother, darling, there is going to be a
great big party on the fifteenth, Nan's birthday, and Hester and
Nora and Annie and I are very anxious that it should be a
children's ball--a fancy ball, you know, mother, and that it should
be held in our beautiful old ball-room. It is the Thorntons' party,
and they will go to all the expense, but they haven't a big room
like ours, so I thought we might lend them the big hall and the
drawing-rooms and the ball-room, and they are beginning
preparations already. If by any chance you or father object, will
you send me a telegram to-morrow? I wish I could kiss you
good-night.--Your most loving
"MOLLY."
Molly's letter was also directed and stamped, and when these important
epistles had been taken to the post, the whole household went to bed.
That is, with one exception.
Annie Forest, notwithstanding her gaiety and the high spirits she had
been in all day, had a care upon her mind.
It was three weeks now since the day when Mrs. Martin had pawned Mrs.
Willis's beautiful ring for the small sum of thirty shillings. That
thirty shillings had purchased cambric and embroidery and lace, and even
a few knots of coloured ribbon, to make three charming frocks for Nora
Lorrimer, but alack and alas, though the frocks lay neatly folded up in
their drawer waiting to be worn on the first festive occasion, poor
Annie had not the faintest idea how to get back the ring. That morning's
post had certainly been an important one. It had not only brought a
letter for Hester which had nearly turned the heads of two households,
but had brought Annie two epistles of a profoundly and painfully
interesting character. One was from her father, telling her that he must
postpone sending her her usual birthday present for a time, and the
other was from Mrs. Willis herself. Mrs. Willis wrote from Paris. She
was staying there for a short time on her way home, and asked Annie to
send her the diamond ring without delay by registered post. The ring was
of a very antique pattern and she wished to have it copied for a wedding
present for one of her pupils.
"Try and post it to me at once, dear," she said, "for I shall not
be in Paris after Saturday. I return to London that day and shall
very likely accept Hester Thornton's invitation to come to the
Grange for a few days. You shall then have the ring back to make
your finger look smart for the remainder of your visit. I am
writing in great haste in order to catch this post, so do not fail
me, my love. The ring will be perfectly safe if you register it.
My dear love to Hester and Nan, and much to yourself.--Your
affectionate
"M. WILLIS."
Annie had glanced her eyes quickly over the contents of this disquieting
letter at breakfast time, but it was only now, in the solitude of her
own room, that she ventured to take it out and study it. What was she to
do? How could she possibly get the ring out of pawn without any money to
redeem it? She dared not confide this trouble to Mrs. Martin. She
thought and thought until her head ached and her bright eyes looked
dull.
What kind of man was the pawnbroker? Why were pawnbrokers called uncles?
Was it because they were really good-natured and helpful? She wondered
if it might be possible for her to induce the pawnbroker to let her have
the ring out on condition that she paid for it by instalments? If he
really was quite a good-natured order of uncle, he might consent to such
an arrangement. Annie felt, however, that it would be useless to get
Mrs. Martin to make such terms with him.
"She was very proud about him," thought Annie. "She did not wish to go
to him at all. I'm afraid he's disagreeable. I'm afraid he's not the
sort of man who would help a girl out of a difficulty. What _shall_ I
do? The ring _must_ go to-morrow if Mrs. Willis is to do anything with
it before she leaves Paris. It ought to have gone to-day, but to-morrow
is the very last, the very last chance. We are all going to Nortonbury
to-morrow to buy the materials for the dresses. Oh, suppose I go and see
the pawnbroker and tell him of my difficulty, and assure him that I will
honestly pay him back that money if he will only let me have the ring
again. I have four shillings still in my purse, and father's sovereign
will be certain to come sooner or later. I could show uncle father's
letter, he would then see that I was not humbugging. I expect he would
like me to call him uncle, as it seems to be _the_ name. Yes, I really
think I will go, but I must on no account whatever let Mrs. Martin or
Molly or Hester know anything about this. I should rather like to
confide in Nora, for she would think it no end of a lark; but if I did,
the poor darling would know that I had got into all this trouble on
account of her dresses, and that would simply never do. Yes, there seems
nothing for it but to visit my uncle, the pawnbroker."
Annie presently laid her head on her pillow and went to sleep.
When she awoke in the morning she still thought an appeal to the
pawnbroker the only available solution of her difficulty. The girls were
much excited about their gay shopping, and the landau was ordered to be
round at an early hour to convey Hester, Nan, Molly, and Annie to
Nortonbury. Nora had to resign herself to the company of her nurse, but
her thoughts were so full of pleasurable anticipations that under the
circumstances she did not mind the loss of her favourite Annie.
Before starting, Annie ran quickly round to Mrs. Martin's rooms.
"Here I am," she exclaimed in her bright way. "I have just rushed up to
say good morning to you before we start. You have heard of all the fun
that we are going to have, haven't you, nursey?"
"Folly, I call it," said nurse. "Throwing away good money on fallals and
wings and clouds. Miss Nan was up here last night so late that I
thought I'd never get her to bed, bamboozling me with stories of all the
children round the country being turned into fairies, which you know,
Miss Annie, is sheer nonsense and impossible to do, and Miss Nora, who
has narrowly escaped her death, is to lie on rose leaves with clouds
under her. The folly of it is beyond belief, even if it can be done,
which I sincerely hope it can't. In old days people took their pleasures
properly. Children were kept in the nursery and were sent early to bed,
and young ladies were presented to her Gracious Majesty the Queen, and
then went to balls in good stiff silks and no wings nor clouds about
'em. They met the gentlemen they were to marry at the balls, and then
there was a proper wedding breakfast and all the rest, as it should be.
I don't hold with the scarum days of the present."
"Look here, nursey," exclaimed Annie, "the fairies will look lovely, and
I'll show you myself how innocent and simple the clouds are, and as to
the wings, I'll make a pair for you if you like."
"No, thank you, Miss Annie, I hope I know what's due to myself."
"Well, I must run away," continued Annie. "You know we're just off to
Nortonbury."
"So I hear, miss."
"It was to Nortonbury you went when you sold my ring; you were a dear to
do it."
"I wouldn't do it for no one else, miss, and I don't know even now how I
came to demean myself by such a job."
"Was," said Annie in an almost trembling voice, "was the uncle very
disagreeable, then?"
"Miss Forest, such a word oughtn't to pass your lips."
"Why so, nurse? I cannot imagine why you dislike such helpful people."
"We won't argue the point," said nurse; "the subject is not suited to
the young."
Annie fidgeted. Nan's voice was heard down stairs shouting for her.
"Nurse," she said in sudden desperation, "I want to get the ring back;
tell me the name of the uncle."
A look of relief came over Mrs. Martin's face.
"I'd be glad if you had that valuable ring again," she said. "Have you
got the money for it? It would be thirty-two shillings; thirty shillings
for the loan and two shillings interest."
"Annie, we're all waiting," shouted Nan.
"Oh, do tell me the address," said Annie.
"You had better let me get the ring out of pawn for you, miss."
"No, no, I must get it to-day."
"Have you got the money, Miss Forest?"
"What would be the use of going if I hadn't?" prevaricated Annie.
"Well, but you're not going to take my young ladies to a pawnbroker's?"
"No, I promise not to take any of them; I'll go alone, quite alone. You
may trust me, really. Oh, nursey, nursey, I'm in such trouble."
Again the bright lovely eyes and sweet voice did their work.
Mrs. Martin fumbled for her keys, and taking a small piece of blue paper
out of her work-box, put it into Annie's hand.
"There," she said. "I'm sorry I ever made or meddled with this thing.
Mind you don't take one of my young ladies with you."
"I promise," said Annie. She thrust the paper into her pocket and rushed
from the room.