The great day came, and the evening of the day; and June dressed Daisy
for the party. This was a simple dressing, however, of a white cambrick
frock; no finery, seeing that Daisy was to put on and off various things
in the course of the evening. But Daisy felt a little afraid of herself.
The perfected arrangements and preparations of the last few days had,
she feared, got into her head a little; and when June had done and was
sent away, Daisy kneeled down by her bedside and prayed a good while
that God would help her not to please herself and keep her from caring
about dress and appearance and people's flatteries. And then she got up
and looked very wistfully at some words of the Lord Jesus which Juanita
had shewed her first and which she found marked by Mr. Dinwiddie's
pencil. "The Father hath not left me alone; _for I do always those
things that please him_."
Daisy was beginning to learn, that to please God, is not always to seek
one's own gratification or that of the world. She looked steadily at the
words of that Friend in heaven whom she loved and wished to obey; and
then it seemed to Daisy that she cared nothing at all about anything but
pleasing him.
"Miss Daisy--" said June,--"Miss Nora is come."
Away went Daisy, with a bound, to the dressing-room; and carried Nora
off, as soon as she was unwrapped from her mufflings, to see the
preparations in the library.
"What is all that for?" said Nora.
"O, that is to shew the pictures nicely. They will look a great deal
better than if all the room and the books could be seen behind them."
"Why?"
"I suppose they will look more like pictures. By and by all those lights
on the stand will be lighted. And we shall dress in the library, you
know,--nobody will be in it,--and in the room on the other side of the
hall. All the things are brought down there."
"Daisy," said Nora looking at the imposing green baize screen, "aren't
you afraid?"
"Are you?" said Daisy.
"Yes--I am afraid I shall not do something right, or laugh, or
something."
"O, but you must not laugh. That would spoil the picture. And Mrs.
Sandford and Preston will make everything else right. Come and see the
crown for Ahasuerus!"
So they ran across the hall to the room of fancy dresses. Here Ella
presently joined them with her sister, and indeed so many others of the
performers that Preston ordered them all out. He was afraid of mischief,
he said. They trooped back to the library.
"When are they going to begin?" said Nora.
"I don't know. O, by and by. I suppose we shall have tea and coffee
first. People at a party must get through that."
To await this proceeding, and indeed to share in it, the little company
adjourned to the drawing-room. It was filling fast. All the
neighbourhood had been asked, and all the neighbourhood were very glad
to come, and here they were, pouring in. Now the neighbourhood meant all
the nice people within ten miles south and within ten miles north; and
all that could be found short of some seven or eight miles east. There
was one family that had even come from the other side of the river. And
all these people made Melbourne House pretty full. Happily it was a
very fine night.
Daisy was standing by the table, for the little folks had tea at a
table, looking with a face of innocent pleasure at the scene and the
gathering groups of people, when a hand laid gentle hold of her and she
found herself drawn within the doctor's arm and brought up to his side.
Her face brightened.
"What is going on, Daisy?"
"Preston has been getting up some tableaux, Dr. Sandford, to be done by
the young people."
"Are you one of the young people?"
"They have got me in," said Daisy.
"Misled by your appearance? What are you going to play, Daisy?"
Daisy ran off to a table and brought him a little bill of the
performances. The doctor ran his eye over it.
"I shall know what it means, I suppose, when I see the pictures. What is
this 'Game of Life?'"
"It is Retsch's engraving," Daisy answered, as sedately as if she had
been forty years old.
"Retsch! yes, I know him--but what does the thing mean?"
"It is supposed to be the devil playing with a young man--for his soul,"
Daisy said very gravely.
"Who plays the devil?"
"Preston does."
"And who is to be the angel?"
"I am to be the angel," said Daisy.
"Very judicious. How do you like this new play, Daisy?"
"It is very amusing. I like to see the pictures."
"Not to be in them?"
"I think not, Dr. Sandford."
"Daisy, what else are you doing, besides playing tableaux, all these
days?"
"I drive about a good deal," said Daisy. Then looking up at her friend
with an entirely new expression, a light shining in her eye and a
subdued sweetness coming into her smile, she added--
"Molly is learning to read, Dr. Sandford."
"Molly!" said the doctor.
"Yes. You advised me to ask leave to go to see her, and I did, and I got
it."
Daisy's words were a little undertone; the look that went with them the
doctor never forgot as long as he lived. His questions about the
festivities she had answered with a placid, pleased face; pleased that
he should ask her; but a soft irradiation of joy had beamed upon the
fact that the poor cripple was making a great step upwards in the scale
of human life. The doctor had not forgotten his share in the permission
Daisy had received, which he thought he saw she suspected. Unconsciously
his arm closed upon the little figure it held and brought her nearer to
him; but his questions were somehow stopped. And Daisy offered no more;
she stood quite still, till a movement at the table seemed to call for
her. She put her hand upon the doctor's arm, as a sign that it must hold
her no longer, and sprang away.
And soon now all the young people went back again to the library. Mrs.
Sandford came with them to serve in her arduous capacity of dresser.
June attended to give her help.
"Now what are we going to do?" whispered Nora in breathless excitement.
"What is to be the first picture? O Daisy, I wish you would get them to
have my picture last of all."
"Why, Nora?"
"O because. I think it ought to come last. Aren't you afraid? Whew!
lam."
"No, I don't think I am."
"But won't you want to laugh?"
"Why?" Daisy. "No, I do not think I shall want to laugh."
"I shall be too frightened to laugh," said Jane Linwood.
"I don't see, Daisy, how you will manage those queer wings of yours,"
Nora resumed.
"I have not got to manage them at all. I have only to keep still."
"I can't think how they will look," said Nora. "They don't seem to me
much like wings. I think they will look very funny."
"Hush, children--run away; you are not wanted here. Go into the
drawing-room--and I will ring this hand bell when I want you."
"What comes first, aunt Sandford?"
"Run away! you will see."
So the younger ones repaired to the drawing-room, for what seemed a
weary time of waiting. Nora expressed her entire disapprobation of being
shut out from all the fun of the dressing; she wanted to see that. She
then declared that it would be impossible to shew all the twelve
pictures that evening, if it took so long to get ready for one. However,
the time was past at length; the signal was given; the lights in the
drawing-room were put down, till the room was very shadowy indeed; and
then, amid the breathless hush of expectation, the curtain that hung
over the doorway of the library was drawn back.
The children thought it was fairy-land.
Frederica Fish sat there facing the company, quaintly dressed in antique
costume; and before her knelt on one knee two grand-looking personages,
very richly attired, presenting a gilt crown upon a satin cushion. Lady
Jane Grey and the lords who came to offer her the kingdom The draperies
were exceedingly well executed and did Mrs. Sandford great credit. They
were the picture.
"Isn't she _beau_-tiful!" Nora exclaimed under her breath.
"Isn't it like a picture!" said Daisy.
"How funnily those boys kneel and twist themselves round!" said Jane.
"Who are they?"
"Daisy, wouldn't you like to be dressed every day like that?" said Nora.
"I don't think it would be convenient," said Daisy. "I think a white
frock is nicer."
"O but it makes people look so handsome! Frederica looks like--she is a
real beauty! I should like to be dressed so. Daisy, don't you suppose
queens and ladies, like those in the pictures, _are_ always dressed so?"
"I suppose they put on nightgowns when they go to bed," said Ella
Stanfield soberly. "They can't _always_ be dressed so."
"O but, I mean, when they are up. And I dare say they wear beautiful
nightgowns--Daisy, don't you think they do? I dare say they have
splendid lace and ribands; and you can make a white dress very
handsome, if you put plenty of lace and ribands."
"O it's gone!" exclaimed Jane and Ella. The curtain had fallen. The
company clapped their hands and cheered.
"What's that for?" said Nora.
"That means that they like it, I suppose," said Daisy. "You will have to
go now, Nora, I know. Little Red Riding-Hood comes next. Come--we'll all
go."
"Horrid Little Red Riding-Hood!" said Nora. "I hate that picture!"
"Why do you hate it?"
"Because!--It is nothing but a red hood."
Mrs. Sandford's bell sounded.
"O Daisy!" said Nora as they went, "won't you get them to leave Esther
to the last? They will do whatever you ask them. Do!"
"Why, Nora?"
"O because!--"
What Nora's "because" meant, Daisy did not know; that it had reference
to some supposed advantage of place, was pretty certain. Daisy stood
thinking about it while she saw Nora dressed, and then ran into the
drawing-room to take the effect of the tableau. The curtain was
withdrawn; Daisy was astonished; she had no idea that Nora could be so
changed by a little arrangement of lights and dress. The picture was
exceeding pretty. Nora's black hair and bright cheeks peeped out from
under the shadowing red cardinal, which draped her arms also--Mrs.
Sandford had mysteriously managed it. She had got over her hatred of the
part, for she looked pleased and pleasant; and the little basket in her
hand and the short petticoat and neat little feet completed a tidy Red
Riding-Hood. The applause was loud. "Lovely!" the ladies said. "What a
sweet little thing! how beautiful she looks!" Nora did not smile, for
that would have hurt her picture; but she stood with swelling
complacency and unchanging red cheeks as long as the company were
pleased to look at her.
"Who is that, Daisy?" asked her father, near whom Daisy had stationed
herself.
"It is Nora Dinwiddie, papa."
"She is a pretty little girl. When does your turn come?"
"I do not know, papa."
"Not know! Why I thought all this was your affair."
"O no, papa; it is Preston's affair."
Off ran Daisy however when the curtain fell, or rather when it was
drawn, to see the getting ready of the next tableau. There was something
of a tableau on hand already. June stood holding up a small featherbed,
and two little figures in white nightgowns were flying round, looking
and laughing at two exceedingly fierce, bearded, moustached,
black-browed individuals, on whose heads Mrs. Sandford was setting some
odd-looking hats.
"Who are those, Nora?" said Daisy to Little Red Riding-Hood.
"Daisy, did you like it? did I stand well?"
"Yes, I liked it very much; it was nice. Nora, who are those two?"
"Why one of 'em is Preston--I don't know who the other is. Daisy, did
you ask about Esther?"
Could it be possible that Preston had so transformed himself? Daisy
could hardly see that it was he. His fellow she did not recognize at
all. It was big George Linwood.
"Now are the little princes ready?" said Preston. "Because we will
finish up this business."
"O you won't let the featherbed come down on us?" cried Jane Linwood.
"If you don't be quiet and keep still, I will," said Preston. "Let only
your eye wink or your mouth move to smile--and you are an unlucky
prince! I am a man without mercy."
"And I am another," said George. "I say, old fellow, I suppose I'm all
right for that French pikeman now, hey? After this smothering business
is attended to."
"You think the trade is the thing, and the costume a matter of
indifference?" said Preston. "In the matter of morals I dare say you are
right;--in tableaux before spectators it's not exactly so. Here
June--hand on your big pillow there--"
Mrs. Sandford was laughing at him, and in fact there was a good deal of
hilarity and some romping before the actors in the tableau could be
settled in their places.
"Don't keep us long," said Preston. "I never knew before what an
uninteresting thing a featherbed is--when you are obliged to hold it in
your arms. Everything in its place, I find. I used to have a good
opinion of them."
Daisy ran back to the drawing-room, and was utterly struck with wonder
at the picture over which all this fun had been held. It was beautiful,
she thought. The two children lay so naturally asleep, one little bare
foot peeping out from under the coverings; and the grim faces that
scowled at them over the featherbed with those strange hats
overshadowing, made such a contrast; and they were all so breathlessly
still, and the lights and shadows were so good; Daisy was disposed to
give her verdict that there never was a play like this play. The
"Princes in the Tower" was greatly applauded.
"Have you asked about my picture?" said Nora, who stood beside Daisy.
"No, I have not had a chance."
"Do, Daisy! I want that to be the last."
Daisy thought she was unreasonable. Why should Nora have the best place,
if it was the best. She was not pleased with her.
The next picture was Marie Antoinette; and that drew down the house.
Frederica Fish had nothing to do but to stand as she was put, and Mrs.
Sandford had seen to it that she stood right; another person might have
done more in the picture, but that was all that could be got from
Frederica. Her face was coldly impassive; she could come no nearer to
the expression of the indignant queen. But Preston's old woman, and
Theresa's pretty young French girl; one looking as he had said, with
eyes of coarse fury, the other all melting with tenderness and reverent
sympathy; they were so excellent that the company were delighted.
Frederica's handkerchief, it is true, hung daintily in her fingers,
shewing all the four embroidered corners; Mrs. Sandford had not seen it
till it was just too late; and Preston declared afterwards the "fury" in
his face was real and not feigned as he glared at her. But the company
overlooked the handkerchief in favour of the other parts of the picture;
and its success was perfect.
"Alfred in the neat-herd's cottage" followed next, and would have been
as good; only that Nora, whose business it was to blow her cheeks into a
full moon condition over the burnt cakes, would not keep her gravity;
but the full cheeks gave way every now and then in a broad grin which
quite destroyed the effect. Preston could not see this, but Daisy took
her friend to task after it was over. Nora declared she could not help
it.
"You don't know how it felt, Daisy, to keep my cheeks puffed out in that
way. I couldn't do it; and whenever I let them go, then I couldn't help
laughing. O, Daisy! is my picture to be the last?"
"I will see, as soon as I can, Nora." Daisy said gravely. It was her own
turn now, and while Mrs. Sandford was dressing her she had no very good
chance to speak of Esther. How wonderfully Mrs. Sandford arranged the
folds of one or two long scarfs, to imitate Sir Joshua Reynolds'
draperies. Preston declared it was beautiful, and so did Hamilton Rush;
and when the little helmet with its plumes was set on Daisy's head, Mrs.
Sandford smiled and Preston clapped his hands. They had still a little
trouble to get Dolce into position. Dolce was to enact the lion, emblem
of courage and strength, lying at Fortitude's feet. He was a sensible
dog, but knowing nothing about playing pictures, naturally, did not
immediately understand why it should be required of him to lie down
there, on that platform of green baize, with his nose on his paws.
However, more sensible than some animals of higher order are apt to be,
he submitted patiently to the duty of obedience where he did not
understand; and laid down accordingly his shaggy length at Daisy's feet.
The curtain was drawn aside, and the company shouted with delight. No
picture had been so good yet as this one. The little grave figure, the
helmet with its nodding plumes in mock stateliness; the attitude, one
finger just resting on the pedestal of the broken column, (an ottoman
did duty for it) as if to shew that Fortitude stood alone, and the
shaggy St. Bernard at her feet, all made in truth an extremely pretty
spectacle. You could see the faintest tinge of a smile of pleasure on
the lips of both Mr. and Mrs. Randolph; they were silent, but all the
rest of the people cheered and openly declared their delight. Daisy
stood like a rock. _Her_ mouth never gave way; not even when Dolce,
conceiving that all this cheering called upon him to do something, rose
up and looking right into Daisy's face wagged his tail in the blandest
manner of congratulation. Daisy did not wince; and an energetic "Down,
Dolce, down!"--brought the St. Bernard to his position again, in the
very meekness of strength; and then the people clapped for Daisy and the
dog together. At last the curtain fell.
[Illustration]
"Well, that will do," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Dolce--you rascal!" said Preston, as the great creature was now wagging
his tail in honour of his master,--"how came you to forget your business
in that style, sir?"
"I do not think it really hindered the effect at all, Preston," said
Mrs. Sandford. "Daisy kept her countenance so well."
"Yes,--if Fortitude had smiled!--" said Theresa, "Mrs. Sandford, is it
out of character for Fortitude to smile?"
"It would be out of character for Portia, just at this crisis--so take
care of her."
"What made them make such a great noise, Daisy?" said Nora while Daisy
was getting undressed.
"I suppose they liked the picture," said Daisy.
"But they made a great deal more noise than they did for anybody else,"
said Nora.
"I suppose they liked the picture better than they liked any of the
others," said Ella Stanfield. "I know they did, for I was in the other
room. Come, let's go see this picture!"
"Not you, Daisy," said Mrs. Sandford as the children were running
off--"I want you. Priscilla comes next."
So Daisy had to stay and be dressed for Priscilla. She missed Portia and
Bassanio. It was not much missed, for her little heart began to be
beating with excitement; and she wished very much that Priscilla might
be as much liked as Fortitude. The dressing was an easy matter, for the
costume had been prepared for her and a gown and vandyke made on
purpose. Would Alexander dare to wink this time, she wondered? And then
she remembered, to her great joy, that he could not; because his face
would be in full view of the people behind the scenes in the library.
The little brown spinning-wheel was brought on the platform; a heap of
flax at which Priscilla is supposed to have been working, was piled
together in front of it; and she and Alexander took their places. The
curtain was drawn aside, and a cry of pleasure from the company
testified to the picturesque prettiness of the representation. It was
according to the fact, that Priscilla should be looking in John Alden's
face; it was just at the moment when she is supposed to be rebuking him
for bringing to her his friend's suit and petition. Thinking herself
safe, and wishing to have the picture as good as possible, Daisy had
ventured to direct her eyes upon the face of Alexander Fish, who
personified the Puritan suitor. To her horror, Alexander, wholly
untouched by the poetry of the occasion and unawed by its hazards, dared
to execute a succession of most barefaced and disagreeable winks right
at Priscilla's eyes. Poor Daisy could not stand this. Forgetting her
character and the picture and everything, her eyes went down; her
eyelids drooped over them; and the expression of grave displeasure would
have done for a yet more dissatisfied mood of mind than Priscilla is
supposed to have known at the time. The company could not stand this,
either; and there burst out a hearty chorus of laughter and cheers
together, which greatly mortified Daisy. The curtain was drawn, and she
had to face the laughing comments of the people in the library. They
were unmerciful, she thought. Daisy grew very pink in the face.
Cinderella was the next picture, in which she had also to play. Dresses
were changed in haste; but meanwhile Daisy began to think about
herself. Was she all right? Mortified at the breaking of her picture;
angry at Alexander; eager to get back praise enough to make amends for
this loss;--whom was little Daisy trying to please? Where was the
ornament of a meek and quiet spirit now? was it on?
They had after all given her place in the Cinderella tableau; she was
one of the two wicked sisters; and she looked dissatisfied enough for
the character. She wanted to get away to be alone for two minutes; but
she had this part to fill first. It is very hard to play when one's
heart is heavy. Daisy could not go on so. She could not bear it. Without
waiting till June could undress her, she slipped away, the moment the
curtain was drawn, and ran across the hall to the dressing room. People
were coming and going everywhere; and Daisy went out upon the piazza.
There, in a dark spot, she kneeled down and prayed; that this terrible
spirit of pleasing herself might be put away from her. She had but a
minute; she knew she must be back again immediately; but she knew too it
takes but a minute for ever so little a prayer to go all the way to
heaven; and the answer does not take any longer to come, if it pleases
God. Daisy was very much in earnest, and quite well knew all that. She
went back to the library feeling humbled and ashamed, but quiet. The
library was all in commotion.
Nora was begging that Esther might be put off till the last. Mrs.
Sandford and Preston objected. They chose that it should come next.
"Here is Priscilla," said Hamilton Rush,--"I beg pardon! it is
Cinderella's wicked sister--I don't know what _her_ name was. Let us
have your vote, my angel; I will address you in your prospective
character; will you put on your wings at once? Or shall we get done with
the terrestrial first? What do you say?--I hope you are going to make
Miss Stanfield the queen, Mrs. Sandford; she has done one part so well
that I should like to see her in another."
"Why, you are going to be Ahasuerus yourself!" said the lady.
"Am I?" said Hamilton; who it must be noticed had not met for the
practisings as often as the other people, being held not to need them.
"Then I must respectfully be allowed to choose my own queen. I vote for
Miss Theresa."
"It is a capital idea," said Preston.
"I think so too," said Mrs. Sandford. "Theresa, my dear, I wonder we did
not think before of something so much to our advantage; but these
children seemed to have got the picture into their own hands. You will
do it far better. Come! let me robe you."
"I would rather be Vashti," murmured Theresa. "I don't like submissive
characters. Mrs. Sandford, Vashti is far more in my line. Go off, boys,
and get ready! What a pity we didn't think of having Vashti, Mrs.
Sandford."
However, Theresa made no objection to be dressed for Esther.
"Who will be your supporters? Ella is too short. Jane and Nora?--Where
is Nora!"
Nora was in the furthest corner of the room, seated in gloom.
"Nora!--"
"I am not going to play any more--" said Nora.
"You must come and be one of the queen's women--I want you for that."
"I am not going to play--" repeated Nora; but nobody heard except Daisy.
"I am Esther myself! nobody else has any right to be it. I have
practised it, and I know how to do it; and I am Esther myself. Nobody
else has any right to be Esther!"
Daisy stood by in dismay. She did not know what comfort to bring to this
distress.
"I won't play at all!" said Nora. "If I can't be Esther I won't be
anything. You have all the good things, Daisy! you have all the
prettiest pictures; and I might have had just this one. Just Esther. I
just wanted to be Esther! It's mean."
"Why you've been plenty of things I think," said Jane Linwood, coming
near this corner of gloom.
"I haven't! I have been that hateful prince in the tower and
Cinderella's ugly sister--only hateful things."
"But you were Little Red Riding-Hood."
"Red Riding-Hood!" exclaimed Nora in unspeakable disdain. "Red
Riding-Hood was nothing at all but a red cloak! and Daisy wore feathers,
and had the dog--"
And the vision of Queen Esther's jewels and satin gown and mantle here
overcame Nora's dignity if not her wrath: she began to cry.
"But won't you come and be one of the queen's maids? _they_ will be very
nicely dressed too," Daisy ventured gently.
"No!--I won't be anybody's maid, I tell you," sobbed the disconsolate
child.
"Bring her along, Daisy," Mrs. Sandford called from the other side of
the room.--"I am almost ready for her."
Daisy made another vain effort to bring Nora to reason, and then went
sorrowfully to Mrs. Sandford. She thought tableaux were on the whole a
somewhat troublesome amusement.
"Will I do, Mrs. Sandford?" she said. "Nora does not want to play."
"In dudgeon, hey?" said the lady. "I expected as much. Well Daisy--I
will take you. I might perch you up on a foot-cushion to give you a
little more altitude. However--I don't know but it will do. Theresa will
be letting down her own height."
"I think I am letting myself down altogether, Mrs. Sandford, in allowing
Ahasuerus to pick me out in that lordly style. But never mind--I shan't
touch his sceptre any way. Boys, boys!--are you ready?"
"Splendid, Theresa!" said Preston as he came in. "Splendid! You are the
very thing."
"I am diamonds and satin, you mean. I thank you. I know that is what I
am at present."
"You look the character," said Hamilton.
Theresa made him a mock little courtesy. It was admirably done. It was
the slightest gesture of supercilious disdain--excellent pantomime. The
boys laughed and shouted, for Theresa's satin and diamonds gave effect
to her acting, and she was a good actor.
This picture had been delayed so long, that at last hearing the shout of
applause behind the scenes, the audience began to call for their share.
In haste, but not the less effectively, Theresa and the rest threw
themselves into attitude and the curtain was pulled aside. Daisy wished
she could have been in the drawing-room, to see the picture; she knew it
must be beautiful; but she was supporting one jewelled arm of Queen
Esther and obliged by her duty to look only at the Queen's face. Daisy
thought even that was a good deal to look at, it was so magnificently
surrounded with decoration: but at the same time she was troubled about
Nora and sorry for her own foolishness, so that her own face was
abundantly in character for the grave concern that sat upon it. This
picture met with, great favour. The people in the library were in much
glee after it was over; all but Daisy and Nora.
"It is all spoiled!" said the latter. "The evening has been hateful. I
wish I hadn't come."
"O Nora! don't say that," Daisy urged. "The pictures are almost over
now; and then we shall have supper."
"I don't want supper! I only wanted to be Queen Esther and you said I
might. It was the prettiest picture of the whole lot."
"But I couldn't help it, Nora."
"I could have done it just as well as Theresa! She didn't look handsome
a bit."
"O Nora, I think she did--for a picture."
"She didn't a bit; the things she had on looked handsome."
Daisy was called away. Her last dressing was to be done now, and the one
of which Daisy was most doubtful. She was to stand for the angel in the
"Game of Life." Other people had no doubt about it. Mrs. Sandford was
sure that the angel's wings would make a good representation, which
Daisy was slow to believe; near by, they looked so very like gauze and
pasteboard! They were arranged, at any rate, to appear as if they grew
out of her shoulders; she was arrayed in flowing white draperies over
her own little cambrick frock; and then she was ready. Hamilton came in.
He was to be the young man in the picture. Daisy liked his appearance
well. But when Preston followed him, she felt unspeakably shocked.
Preston was well got up, in one respect; he looked frightful. He wore a
black mask, ugly but not grotesque; and his whole figure was more like
the devil in the picture than Daisy had imagined it could be. She did
not like the whole business at all. There was no getting out of it now;
the picture must be given; so the performers were placed.
Hamilton and Preston sat on two sides of a chess-board, and behind them
the little angel stood watching the game. Mrs. Sandford was right. By a
skilful placing and shielding of the lamps, the lights were thrown
broadly where they ought to be, on faces and draperies, leaving the
gauze wings of the angel in such obscurity that they just shewed as it
was desired they should. The effect was extremely good, and even
artistic. The little angel herself was not in full light; it was through
a shade of gloom that her grave face of concern looked down upon the
game on the chess-board. Truly Daisy looked concerned and grave. She
thought she did not like to play such things as this. One of the
figures below her was so very wicked and devilish in its look; and
Hamilton leaned over the pieces on the board with so well-given an
expression of doubt and perplexity,--his adversary's watch was so
intent,--and the meaning of the whole was so sorrowfully deep; that
Daisy gazed unconsciously most like a guardian angel who might see with
sorrow the evil one getting the better over a soul of his care. For it
was real to Daisy. She knew that the devil does in truth try to bewitch
and wile people out of doing right into doing wrong. She knew that he
tries to get the mastery of them; that he rejoices every time to sees
them make a "false move;" that he is a great cunning enemy, all the
worse because we cannot see him, striving to draw people to their ruin;
and she thought that it was far too serious and dreadful a thing to be
made a _play_ of. She wondered if guardian angels did really watch over
poor tempted souls and try to help them. And all this brought upon
Daisy's face a shade of awe, and sorrow, and fear, which was strangely
in keeping with her character as an angel, and very singular in its
effect on the picture. The expressions of pleasure and admiration which
had burst from the company in the drawing-room at the first sight of it,
gradually stilled and ceased; and it was amid a profound and curious
silence and hush that the curtain was at length drawn upon the picture.
There were some people among the spectators not altogether satisfied in
their minds.
"How remarkable!" was the first word that came from anybody's lips in
the darkened drawing-room.
"Very remarkable!" somebody else said. "Did you ever see such acting?"
"It has all been good," said a gentleman, Mr. Sandford; "but this _was_
remarkable."
"Thanks, I suppose you know to whose management," said the soft voice of
the lady of the house.
"Management is a good thing," said the gentleman; "but there was more
than management here, Mrs. Randolph. It was uncommon, upon my word! I
suppose my wife came in for the wings, but where did the _face_ come
from?"
"Daisy," said Mr. Randolph as he found his little daughter by his side
again,--"are you here?"
"Yes, papa."
Her father put his arm round her, as if to assure himself there were no
wings in the case.
"How do you like playing pictures?"
"I think I do not like them very much--" Daisy said sedately, nestling
up to her father's side.
"Not? How is that? Your performance has been much approved."
Daisy said nothing. Mr. Randolph thought he felt a slight tremor in the
little frame.
"Do you understand the allegory of this last tableau, Daisy?" Dr.
Sandford asked.
"I do not know what an allegory is, Dr. Sandford."
"What is the meaning of the representation, then, as you think of it?"
"This last picture?"
"Yes."
"It is a trial of skill, Dr. Sandford."
The room was still darkened, and the glance of intelligence and
amusement that passed between her friend and her father, their own eyes
could scarcely catch. Daisy did not see it. But she had spoken
diplomatically. She did not want to come any nearer the subject of the
picture in talking with Dr. Sandford. His mind was different, and he
went on.
"What is the trial of skill about, Daisy?"
The child hesitated, and then said, speaking low and most unchildlike--
"It is about a human soul."
"And what do you understand are the powers at work--or at play?"
"It is not play," said Daisy.
"Answer Dr. Sandford, Daisy," said her father.
"Papa," said the child, "it isn't play. The devil tries to make people
do wrong--and if they try to do right, then there is a--"
"A what?"
"I don't know--a fight, papa."
Mr. Randolph again felt a tremor, a nervous trembling, pass over Daisy.
"You do not suppose, my darling," he said softly, "that such a fight
goes on with anything like this horrible figure that your cousin Preston
has made himself?"
"I do not suppose he looks like that, papa."
"I do not think there is such a personage at all, Daisy. I am sure you
need not trouble your little head with thinking about it."
Daisy made no answer.
"There is a struggle always going on, no doubt, between good and evil;
but we cannot paint good and evil without imagining shapes for them."
"But papa,--" said Daisy, and stopped. It was no place or time for
talking about the matter, though her father spoke low. She did not want
even Dr. Sandford to hear.
"What is it, Daisy?"
"Yes," said the doctor, "I should like to know what the argument is."
"Papa," said Daisy, awesomely,--"there is a _place_ prepared for the
devil and his angels."
Mr. Randolph was silent now. But he felt again that Daisy was nervously
excited, by the quiver that passed over her little frame.
"So you think, Daisy," said the doctor leaning towards her,--"that the
white and the black spirits have a fight over the people of this world?"
Daisy hesitated, struggled, quivered, with the feeling and the
excitement which were upon her, tried for self-command and words to
answer. Mr. Randolph saw it all and did not hurry her, though she
hesitated a good deal.
"You think they have a quarrel for us?" repeated the doctor.
"I don't know, Dr. Sandford--" Daisy answered in a strangely tender and
sober voice. It was strange to her two hearers.
"But you believe in the white spirits, I suppose, as well as in the
other branch of the connection?"
"Papa," said Daisy, her feeling breaking a little through her composure
so much as to bring a sort of cry into her voice--"there is joy among
the angels of heaven whenever anybody grows good!--"
She had turned to her father as she spoke and threw her arms round his
neck, hiding her face, with a clinging action that told somewhat of that
which was at work in her mind. Mr. Randolph perhaps guessed at it. He
said nothing; he held her close to his breast; and the curtain drew at
that moment for the last tableau. Daisy did not see it, and Mr. Randolph
did not think of it; though people said it was very good, it was only
the head and shoulders of Theresa Stanfield as an old country
schoolmistress, seen behind a picture frame, with her uplifted finger
and a bundle of rods. Theresa was so transformed that nobody would have
known her; and while the company laughed and applauded, Daisy came back
to her usual self; and slid out of her father's arms when the show was
over, all ready for supper and Nora Dinwiddie.
There was a grand supper, and everybody was full of pleasure and
complimentary speeches and discussion and praise of the tableaux. That
was among the elder portion of the company. The four or five children
were not disposed to such absolute harmony. Grapes and ices and
numberless other good things were well enjoyed, no doubt; but amidst
them all a spirit of criticism was rife.
"Daisy, your wings didn't look a bit like real wings--" said Jane
Linwood.
"No," echoed Nora, "I guess they didn't. They were like--let me see what
they were like! They were like the wings of a windmill."
"No, they weren't!" said Ella. "I was in the drawing-room--and they
didn't look like a windmill a bit. They looked queer, but pretty."
"Queer, but pretty!" repeated Nora.
"Yes, they did," said Ella. "And you laughed when you were Red
Riding-hood, Nora Dinwiddie."
"I didn't laugh a bit!"
"It is no matter if you did laugh, Nora," said Daisy;--"you got grave
again, and the picture was very nice."
"I didn't laugh!" said Nora; "and if I did, everybody else did. I don't
think the pictures I saw were at all like pictures--they were just like
a parcel of people dressed up."
Some gay paper mottoes made a diversion and stopped the little mouths
for a time; and then the people went away.
"Well Daisy," said Mrs. Gary,--"how do you like this new entertainment?"
"The pictures? I think they were very pretty, aunt Gary."
"How happened it that somebody else wore my diamonds?" said her
mother,--"and not you. I thought you were to be dressed for Queen
Esther?"
"Yes, mamma, so I was at first; and then it was thought best--"
"Not by me," said Preston. "It was no doing of mine. Daisy was to have
been Esther, and she herself declared off--backed out of it, and left me
to do as best I could."
"What was that for, Daisy?" said Mrs. Gary. "You would have made an
excellent Esther."
"What was that for, Daisy?" said Mrs. Randolph. "Did you not like to be
Esther?"
"Yes, mamma--I liked it at one time."
"And why not at another time?"
"I found out that somebody else would like it too, mamma; and I
thought----"
Mrs. Randolph broke out with a contemptuous expression of displeasure.
"You thought you would put yourself in a corner! You were not manager,
Daisy; and you must remember something is due to the one that is. You
have no right to please yourself."
"Come here, Daisy," said her father, "and bid me good night. I dare say
you were trying to please somebody else. Tell mamma she must remember
the old fable, and excuse you."
"What fable, Mr. Randolph?" the lady inquired, as Daisy left the room.
"The one in which the old Grecian told the difficulty of pleasing more
people than one or two at once."
"Daisy is ruined!" said Mrs. Randolph.
"I do not see how it appears."
"She has not entered into this thing at all as we hoped she would--not
at all as a child should."
"She looked a hundred years old, in the Game of Life," said Mrs. Gary.
"I never saw such a representation in my life. You would have said she
was a real guardian angel of somebody, who was playing his game not to
please her."
"I am glad it is over!" said Mrs. Randolph. "I am tired of it all." And
she walked off. So did Mr. Randolph, but as he went he was thinking of
Daisy's voice and her words--"There is joy among the angels of heaven
whenever anybody grows good."