threatened to cast all other interests in the shade. Florence and
Eleanor had started to one school after Easter, and Rock to another.
Eleanor was welcomed back with open arms by most of the girls, but
Olive and Janet still held aloof, and did not join her special company
of friends. "She's so stuck up, now that she has a pony, that she
can hardly see," Eleanor heard Janet say one day, for Eleanor was not
above giving her head a little toss and looking supreme contempt at the
speaker whenever they met. "And it isn't because I've a pony," she told
Florence, "but I just despise her anyhow."
That very day Miss Reese made an announcement which set all the class
astir. "Since I do not expect to return to you next year, girls," she
said, "I thought we would have a little frolic before we part, and I
have planned to go a-Maying. But not on the first of May," she added.
"We will wait till it is warm enough to go with no danger of taking
cold. Now, I think it would be pleasant to try to have a real May
party, with a May-pole and a May-queen and all that. Each one of you
will be privileged to invite one guest, a boy if you like, for we must
have some boys along, and two weeks from to-day will cast votes for the
queen. That will give you time to think the matter over so you will not
decide hastily. I do not think we shall want to select the prettiest,
nor the wealthiest, but the one who shows the most loving disposition
or the most conscientious work, or some quality of mind or heart to
commend her." Not a girl but hoped that she would be selected, and not
one but felt that this was one of the most exciting events that she had
ever looked forward to.
"Oh, Florence, suppose one of us should be chosen," said Eleanor, as
the two were walking home from school. "Wouldn't it be perfectly lovely
to wear a flower crown and be dressed in white and carry a sceptre. Are
you going to invite any one?"
"Why, yes, I think I will invite Rock, unless you want to."
"Oh, no, so long as he comes it will not make any difference. Oh, don't
you hope you will be chosen?"
Florence was obliged to confess that she did hope so, but just how
greatly she desired the honor not even Eleanor knew. Florence loved
everything romantic, and it seemed to her that to be a May-queen
must be the summit of human bliss. She had been so short a time at
the school that she hardly dared to believe that she would stand a
chance of being chosen, much as she longed to be. She saw that her
Cousin Eleanor was very popular and that she would be one of the first
favorites. Olive Murdoch was an excellent student and was very careful
about obeying rules, and she was in many respects the most attentive
girl in the class. She had numerous friends, too, for where Olive liked
any one she could make herself very agreeable, and had the qualities
which made her a leader. Indeed, before the week was out, it looked as
if the two who would receive the most votes were Olive and Eleanor.
"I shall vote for you," Eleanor told Florence.
"And, of course, I shall vote for you," Florence returned. "Oh, Dimple,
if Olive Murdoch is chosen I don't believe I shall care to go to the
May party. I should hate to call her fair queen and all that. Are we to
vote for the maid of honor?"
"I don't know. Miss Reese hasn't said anything about it, but if we can
choose the one we most want, and if I should be queen, I shall want
you, of course."
"And I shall want you."
At last came the day when the votes were to be given. Twenty little
girls, with hearts beating fast and with hopes high, cast in their
votes; a box to receive them stood on Miss Reese's desk. It seemed
to the children, as they sat there with the odor of apple-blossoms
drifting in through the open windows, and the fair May green before
them as they looked out, that Miss Reese never had been so long over
anything. She separated the slips of paper into small heaps and
carefully counted each one over more than once.
At last she looked up, and smiled to see the little eager faces. "Olive
Murdoch, seven votes; Eleanor Dallas, six; Florence Graham, three;
Edith West, two; Leila Clark, two; Elsie Vail, one."
"Oh," came a little murmur from the class and Olive's face wore a
triumphant and self-satisfied expression, while Eleanor and Florence
looked at each other, reading in one another's face the disappointment
written there.
Suddenly Miss Reese spoke again: "Why, this is not right; there should
be but twenty votes and there are twenty-one. Some one has given two
votes. Now, shall we vote over again? Shall I call upon each girl to
announce her choice? or, since there seems to be no doubt but that
Olive Murdoch and Eleanor Dallas have received the greatest number of
votes, shall we consider them the candidates and let the class vote
over again for one or the other of these two girls? All in favor of
this last plan please raise their right hands." Up went most of the
right hands and Miss Reese nodded approvingly.
"Now," she said, "each girl can write her choice on a slip of paper and
bring it to me, and then there will be no mistake. Jessie, give out
these slips." A little flush arose to Olive's cheeks and she whispered
something to the girl next her, who nodded in reply.
The room was so still that the singing of a robin outside in the
apple-tree seemed the only sound to be heard. Then one by one the
girls came forward with their slips of paper. Miss Reese read each one
silently, and as Olive's turn came she looked up with a queer little
smile at the girl who dropped her eyes and went back to her seat with
a flushed face. Miss Reese again counted the votes. "This time we have
just twenty," she said. "There are for Eleanor Dallas twelve votes; for
Olive Murdoch, eight." Every girl turned and looked at Eleanor whose
face turned a rosy red and in her confusion she said quite loud enough
for them all to hear, "Oh, Florence, I wish it had been you."
Miss Reese rapped on her desk. "Now," she said, "I think it will be
best to take a different way to choose the maid of honor. Let each girl
think of whom she would like and give her reason for it. I think that
will make it quite interesting. You may begin, Elsie."
"I think Olive should be the one because she came so near being the
queen," said Elsie.
Miss Reese nodded to the next girl who said she thought that some girl
who had received no vote should be chosen.
Then came one who said: "I think Florence Graham, because she is a
stranger here, and she isn't going to stay very long. I think it would
be more polite to choose her." This seemed to strike the most of them
favorably, and in the end Florence was made supremely happy by being
elected maid of honor, and this important matter being settled, there
were other questions to be discussed and the May party in all its ins
and outs was talked over.
Although there were some disappointed little souls, as a rule all
were well satisfied that the choice of queen had fallen where it did.
Eleanor was radiantly happy and yet she could not help feeling sorry
for Olive, who had counted upon being the favored one, and who gave
Eleanor a look of scorn as she passed her. "She needn't look so," said
Florence indignantly. "It was perfectly fair, and every one says so. I
haven't a doubt but that she voted for herself," which, if the truth
were known, was true, and, indeed, it was also true that the extra vote
on the first ballot was cast by Olive. If Miss Reese suspected this
she never said so, but she did know that Olive's name was on the slip
of paper which she brought up, and that was why she gave Olive the
quizzical little smile, for no other girl in the whole school had voted
for herself.
Rock was jubilant when he heard the decision. "Hurrah for Queen
Eleanor!" he cried. "I am just delighted, and all the more that you got
ahead of Olive Murdoch."
But Eleanor looked sober when he said this. "She's dreadfully
disappointed," she said, "and I'm awfully sorry for her. She studied
real hard and does her lessons so well. I sort of think that she
should have been chosen."
"Why, Dimple Dallas," exclaimed Florence. "I don't see how you can say
that."
"I do think so. She is the best scholar in the school."
"Yes, and she's the hatefullest and the slyest." Florence was too loyal
to Eleanor to believe any good of Olive.
"Well, anyhow, Jessie is a nice child and I like her," Eleanor
maintained. "She was never mean to me once, and if you were not to
be my maid of honor I should choose her next." This Eleanor said to
Jessie, and furthermore, invited her to go with Florence, Rock and
herself to gather flowers for the arbor under which the queen was to
sit. Great masses of mountain laurel, wild honeysuckle and other spring
blossoms they carried home in the little pony-cart, and long garlands
were woven for the arbor.
"Won't you come and help us make the wreaths?" Eleanor asked Jessie.
"I should like to," she answered, "but mamma said I was to come right
home as soon as we got back from the woods. I have had a lovely time,
and I'd like to stay," the child repeated wistfully. "I just love that
little pony."
"You shall drive with us whenever you want to," Eleanor assured her, as
she bade her good-bye.
Eleanor was very thoughtful all the rest of the day, even when she and
Rock and Florence were busy over the crown for the May-queen to wear
the following day.
[Illustration: "BUSY OVER THE CROWN FOR THE QUEEN TO WEAR"]
"We'll keep some of the prettiest bunches to trim our dresses with,"
said Florence. "Bubbles, bring us a basin of water to put them in. I
shall have a little bunch on each shoulder and you can have the same,
Dimple. Oh, where did you get those lovely lilies of the valley?"
"Mr. Atkinson sent them to me. I met him on the street and he was
asking me about the May party."
"Where are they going to set up the May-pole?" Rock asked.
"Just back of Mr. Atkinson's; in that pretty meadow with the grove at
one end."
"What a lovely place!" exclaimed Florence. "Where are you going,
Dimple?"
"I'm just going to speak to mamma." And a moment later she entered
her mother's room with a very serious face.
"What is the matter with the May-queen?" her mother asked.
Two tears started to Eleanor's eyes and she hid her head on her
mother's shoulder. "I want to be May-queen so much," she said in a
stifled voice.
"Well, dearie, I don't see anything to grieve you in that."
"Do you think I ought to give up to Florence or Jessie? It seems mean
not to give them the chance."
Her mother smiled. "I don't think you are called upon to do anything
of the kind. You were chosen fairly by the class, and you have no more
right to refuse than if a presidential candidate were to say: 'Mr.
So-and-so wants so much to be president. I'll give my place to him.' It
is very kind of my little girl to think of such a thing, but I don't
think it would do. Let the matter rest as it is. Every one will have a
good time, and next year, or upon some other occasion, perhaps Jessie
will have another chance."
"But Florence won't."
"Maybe she will. We might have a May party of our own next year in
Florence's honor, and then she could be queen and Jessie maid of honor,
if that would do."
"Oh, mamma, that is a lovely plan for you to think of, I feel real
comfortable now."
And, therefore, with not a cloud to mar their pleasure the children
started off for the May party. The little pony, which they had named
Spice, wore a garland around his neck, and when Eleanor, dressed in
white, with her maid of honor by her side, appeared in the little
flower-decked pony-cart, a shout arose from the children, and with one
accord they began to sing "God save the Queen."
Then Eleanor was helped down by two of her gentlemen-in-waiting, and
was conducted to her throne; her crown was placed upon her head and her
sceptre in her hand. Then a merry, merry time they had dancing around
the May-pole, weaving in and out with their many-hued ribbons. The
lookers-on in Mr. Atkinson's garden said it was the prettiest sight the
town had seen in a long time.
After this they played games and sang songs and romped and ran and
searched the woods for wild flowers till it was time for feasting.
When each basket was opened a store of good things appeared; these were
spread out upon the grass, and the little queen was served first. But
as she was eating her ice cream, she saw a pair of sparkling black eyes
peeping through the fence. "Oh, there is Bubbles," she exclaimed. "Poor
little Bubbles."
"What is your Royal Highness' wish concerning her?" asked Rock with
quick wit, as he dropped upon one knee. "Is it yon sable maiden who has
attracted your Majesty's notice?"
"Yes, it is. I wish she could have some of these good things."
"Where is the Premier?" asked Rock. "Oh, there she is. Miss Reese,
her Majesty, the Queen, desires a consultation." And Miss Reese came
forward.
"There is Bubbles," the queen said in very familiar language. "Please,
Miss Reese, can some one take her some ice cream and cake? Is there
enough?"
"An abundance. I will see that she has some," was the reply.
"May it please your Majesty, I will undertake the errand," said Rock.
"Do you send me in quest of the hand-maid who has found favor in your
sight?" Rock's language was a funny mixture of courtly and Scriptural
expressions.
"Yes, do go, Rock, there's a dear." And Bubbles was made supremely
happy by a generously piled up plate of cake and ice cream.
For some reason Don had taken a sudden liking to Rock, in spite of the
latter's snubs and his coolness toward him. Rock was a bright boy with
a ready wit and much ingenuity, and Don, with the admiration a small
boy so often feels for a larger one, followed him around upon this May
day until Rock, at first annoyed, was finally sorry for the smaller boy
and began to pay him some attention, and to Eleanor's surprise, she saw
the two hobnobbing like old friends before the day was out.
Whether it was on Rock's account or not, it is true that when the
queen's chariot, as Rock called it, was driven up for Eleanor and
Florence, no one was louder in his cheers than Don, and despite the old
grievances, Eleanor could not help being pleased by this evidence of
Don's good-will, and she drove off as happy as a little girl could be,
followed by shouts of "Long live Queen Eleanor!" Spice shaking his mane
and evidently in high feather at such a frolic.
"Has my dear daughter had a happy day?" asked Eleanor's mother as she
kissed her good-night.
"So happy, mamma." There was little pause, then Eleanor said: "Don has
to pick strawberries all day Saturday, for Mr. Snyder, and Rock is
going to help him. May Florence and Bubbles and I go too? We can take
Jessie and get through a lot."
"I cannot allow you to pick berries all day, dear, but you may spend
a part of the afternoon in that way if you want to. Rock can do as he
chooses, of course, but, how comes it that you are asking permission
for Bubbles?"
"Don likes us all now," returned the child, "and Bubbles says if we
pick for him, why, she will too, but I don't believe Olive will ever
care for any of us."
"Perhaps she will. If one goes right along and does the best she knows
how, after a while even her enemies will see her as she really is.
What do you think Cousin Ellen said to me to-day when we stood together
in Mr. Atkinson's garden looking at the May party?"
"I don't know. What did she say, mamma?"
"She said: 'Eleanor makes a very sweet little queen, doesn't she?'"
"Oh, mamma, truly?"
"Yes, truly. I think Mr. Snyder and Doctor Sullivan and--Don, perhaps,
have had something to do with her change of opinion. At all events, we
may hope that even Olive will be friends with you yet."
Eleanor shook her head, but just then Florence called, "Queen Eleanor,
your Majesty, aren't you ever coming to bed? What makes you stay so
long?"
"'Cause I'm so happy," answered Eleanor, after a last "Good-night!"