COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS
"Isn't it too delicious," exclaimed Tavia, excitedly.
"Delightful," answered Dorothy. "I hope hereafter you will never doubt
the goodness of your fairy godmother."
"Or that of my fairy godsister," added Tavia.
"And Aunt Winnie is to do all your shopping. Your mother asked her to
get everything you will need. The money you received from the railroad
company for the loss of your hair in the accident has been put aside by
your father for your education. So you cannot longer boast of that
romantic poverty you have been holding over my poor, innocent head,"
and Dorothy gave her friend a "knowing squeeze," that kind of embrace
that only girl friends understand fully.
"I can scarcely realize it," pondered Tavia, "not to have you leave me
here all alone! Why, Doro, I could not sleep nights, worrying about
what would become of me in this hamlet without you."
"And I was equally tortured with worries about what would become of me,
when I could not tell you all my troubles. Especially when I thought
of having to--"
"Fight the Green Violet alone! I don't blame you. But I am just dying
to know what use she will make of the muskmelon story. I met Alice
yesterday and she felt dreadfully about the way Viola acted. She is
coming over to apologize to you as soon as she can do so without
carting the vegetable along. Pity they did not name her cucumber
instead of violet--the green would match her better. I am going to
call her 'Cuke' hereafter! Short for cucumber, you know."
"Oh, that would be unkind," objected Dorothy.
"Unkind nothing," replied the impulsive one. "I wish I could think of
a good rhyme for her new name. I would pass it around--"
"Now, Tavia, you must not keep me worrying about the mischievous things
you intend to do at Glenwood. Remember that is one of the
stipulations--you are to be very, very good."
"I feel a sore spot under my shoulder blade now," declared Tavia,
putting her hand back. "Wings as sure as you live, just feel!"
"But do you realize it, we have only this week? We must be in Glenwood
next Monday."
"All the better. I cannot wait. Won't it be too gloriotious?" and
Tavia again indulged in "steps," her favorite outlet for pent-up
sentiment.
"The boys are coming over to-morrow afternoon," announced Dorothy, "I
had a note from Ned this morning."
"Goody," exclaimed Tavia, coming to a full stop with a twirl that stood
for the pedal period. "Another ride?"
"No, I'm afraid not. Ned said he and Nat were going to spend the
afternoon with us."
"Well, it will be fun anyway. It always is when the boys get jollying.
I am afraid I do love boys--next to you, Doro, I think a real nice boy
is the very nicest human possible."
"Next to me? On the other side you mean?"
"No, on the second side, the boy is on the outside of the argument.
You are always first, Doro."
Meanwhile the news, that Dorothy and Tavia were to leave Dalton for a
school in New England, had spread among their former school companions.
Alice MacAllister, Sarah Ford, May Egner and a number of others had
held a little consultation over the matter and decided that some sort
of testimonial should be arranged to give their friends a parting
acknowledgment of the regard and esteem in which Dalton school girls
held Tavia Travers and Dorothy Dale. Of course Tavia was never as
popular as Dorothy had always been--she was too antagonistic, and
insisted upon having too much fun at the expense of others. But, now
that she was leaving them, the girls admitted she had been a "jolly
good fellow," and they would surely miss her mischief if nothing more.
May Egner wanted the committee of arrangements to make the affair a
"Linen Shower" such as brides are given.
"Because," argued the practical May, "it will be so nice to have a
lovely lot of handkerchiefs and collars. No one can have too many."
"Well, we can include the shower if you like," said Alice, who was
chairman, "but I vote for a lawn party, with boys invited."
"A lawn party with boys!" chorused the majority, in enthusiastic
approval.
"I think it would be a charity to let the Dalton boys come to
something," declared Sarah Ford. "If we leave them out all the time,
by and by, when we want someone to take us home on a dark night--"
"When you stay chinning too long with Roberta," interrupted a girl who
knew Sarah's weakness for "dragging along the way."
"Well, you may be out in the dark some time yourself, Nettie, and it is
very nice to have--"
"A very nice boy--"
"Order! Order!" called the chairman. "We have voted to invite them
and--"
"It's up to them," persisted Nettie Niles, who, next to Tavia Travers,
had the reputation and privilege of using more slang than any other
well-bred girl in Dalton.
"It is to be a lawn party then," declared the chairman, with befitting
dignity. "And we have only one day to arrange the whole thing."
"I'll collect the boys," volunteered the irrepressible Nettie.
"Then you are appointed a committee of one to invite all the nice boys
in the first class," said Alice, much to the surprise of the joker.
"And not any other?" pouted Nettie. "If I should run across a real
nice little fellow, with light curly hair, and pale pink cheeks,
and--and--"
"New tennis suit," suggested someone, who had seen Nettie walking home
with a boy of the tennis-suit description.
"Oh, yes," agreed the chairman, "I forgot to include Charlie. He is
not now at Dalton school, but of course, Nettie, you may invite
Charlie."
"Thanks," said Nettie, determined not to be abashed by the teasing.
"We will have cake and lemonade," proposed May Egner.
"I'm glad I only have to bring boys," said Nettie aside, "I couldn't
bake a cake to save me."
"And I'll bring a whole pan of fresh taffy," volunteered Sarah.
"Put me down for two dozen lemons," offered May Egner, who seemed to
think the entire success of a lawn party depended upon the refreshing
lemonade.
"Where shall we have it?" asked Alice.
The girls glanced around at the splendid lawn upon which the little
meeting was being held. It was the MacAllister place, and had the
reputation of being well-kept besides affording a recreation ground for
the family--the secret of the combination lay in the extent of the
grounds: they might be walked upon, but were never trampled upon. Mr.
MacAllister made it a rule that games should be kept to their
restricted provinces, as the tennis court and croquet grounds: other
games should never be indulged in on the range close to the house or
near the paths. "Plenty of room to play tag in the orchard," he would
tell the children, and this plan kept the place in an enviable
condition.
"The schoolyard is awfully dry and dusty," remarked Nettie in answer to
the question of a site for the party.
"You are welcome to come here," said Alice, modestly.
"Oh, that would be splendid!" declared May, whereat all the others
voiced similar sentiments.
It was promptly decided that the invitation to hold the affair on the
MacAllister grounds should be accepted with thanks, and as there
remained not many hours of the day to attend to arrangements, as the
next afternoon would bring them to the test, the girls hastily
scattered to begin their respective duties in the matter.
Viola Green was present at the meeting. Alice had told her of its
purpose, and as only a few days remained of the time allotted Viola to
remain at Dalton, Alice was not sorry when her visitor pleaded another
engagement.
That engagement consisted of a promise to walk through the Green with
Tom Burbank--he, too, was a stranger in Dalton, spending a week of his
holiday with the Bennet family.
Viola could boast of a well-filled trunk of stylish clothes, and in no
other place, of the many she had visited during her vacation, had this
wardrobe shown to such advantage as in Dalton. Even the attractive
linens that Alice was invariably gowned in (except on Sundays, when she
wore a simple summer silk), seemed of "back date" compared with the
showy dresses Viola exhibited. They were stylish in that acceptance of
the term that made them popular, but were not distinctive, and would
probably be entirely out of date by the following summer.
On this particular afternoon Viola wore a deep blue crepe with shaded
ribbons, a dress, according to the feminine ethics of Dalton, "fit for
a party."
Tom Burbank sported white flannels, a very good summer suit indeed, but
a little out of the ordinary in Dalton. It was not to be wondered at,
then, that the appearance of these two strangers attracted some
attention on the Green. Neither could it be doubted that such
attention was flattering to Viola, a stylishly dressed girl often
enjoys being credited with her efforts.
"Wasn't that the greatest," Tom was drawling to Viola, "about those
folks riding in the police wagon."
"Disgraceful, I should say," replied Viola, emphatically.
"And the fellow in the--farmer's duds. Wasn't he a sight?" and the
young man chuckled at the thought of Nat in the overalls and jumper.
"And those two girls are going to Glenwood--the boarding school I
attend!" and Viola's lip curled in hauteur.
"The dickens they are! I--beg your pardon, but I was so surprised,"
said Tom.
"I don't blame you. I was equally surprised myself. In fact, I guess
everyone was--they made up their minds so suddenly. I suppose--" Then
Viola stopped.
"Well, what do you suppose?"
"Perhaps I shouldn't say it--"
"Why not? Can't you trust me?"
"Oh, it wasn't that. But it might seem unkind."
"Nonsense," and the young man gave Viola a reassuring look. "A thing
said in good faith is never unkind."
"I'm so glad you feel that way. Alice is so different, and I have been
just dying to talk to somebody--somebody who would look at things as I
do. Sometimes I am almost homesick."
"I suppose you are," said the youth, falling a victim to the girl's
coquetry as readily as water runs down hill. "A fellow is never that
way--homesick, I mean; but for a girl--"
"Oh, yes," sighed Viola, "this visiting is not all it is supposed to
be. Alice is a lovely girl, of course, but--"
"A trifle high flown," said Tom, trying to help the faltering girl with
her criticism.
"And so strangely fascinated with that Dorothy." Viola toyed evasively
with the stick of her parasol. "Of course she is a pretty girl--"
"Too yellow--I mean too blondy," said Tom, feeling obliged to say
something against Dorothy.
"Do you know her cousin, Nat White?"
"Not very well, I only met him the other night. But he seems like a
decent fellow."
"I cannot imagine any boy allowing two girls to get in such a
predicament," said Viola, "feeling her way" to further criticism.
"It was rough, but then you see he was not with them, he had gone to
the blacksmith shop to get something fixed, I believe."
"Oh, they were alone!" and Viola had gained one point. "Was it really
melons, do you suppose?"
"So he said, but he seemed to take the whole thing as a joke. Ginger!
It was funny to go out in a red flyer and come back in a Black Maria,"
and Tom laughed at his own attempt at a pun.
"Then, when the cousin came back the girls were in the police patrol?
That accounts for it. I could not possibly see how any young fellow
could allow girls to get into such a scrape," persisted Viola.
"Yes," said Tom vaguely, not being at all particular as to what was the
nature of the remark he had given acquiescence to.
"But to be arrested!" went on Viola.
"Were they arrested?" asked Tom in surprise.
"Why, of course," declared Viola. "Didn't Mr. White say so?"
"Oh, I suppose he did. That is--I really had not looked at it that
way. I thought it was some kind of joke."
But Tom had said, "Yes," Nat told him they had been arrested! And Tom
Burbank never intended to say anything of the kind! Viola Green with
her pretty clothes and pretty looks had "put the words into his mouth
and had taken them out again!"
"We must be going!" said Viola, leaving her seat beside the little fish
pond in the park. "I suppose I shall see you at the lawn party?"
"If I am invited?"
"Then I invite you now. You need not say you got my invitation before
the others were out--but be sure to come!"