_The Masque Ball_
The gay young set at Green Falls to which Linda belonged had planned
nothing for that afternoon except the regular swim, for the ball would
be late, and the donning of their costumes would take a good deal of
time. Linda, however, even passed up the swim in favor of a nap, for
she was very tired. Besides, she had no desire to meet Ralph at the
lake or anywhere else.
Like all the social affairs at this charming resort, the masque
ball--the greatest event of the season, with the possible exception
of the field day at the close--began early. Dinner at the Carltons
was over by half-past seven, and, after assuring herself that Linda's
costume was to her satisfaction, Miss Carlton left the bungalow. She
was a patroness, of course, and she wanted to get to the Casino early,
to pass final judgment upon the decorations and the music.
Harriman Smith arrived at half-past eight, in a taxi, for as one of
the poorer members of the crowd, he did not possess a car of his own.
Linda, in the filmy dress of the fairy queen, with a crown of golden
stars about her hair, welcomed him into the bungalow.
"Linda!" exclaimed the young man, in positive awe. "I never saw anyone
so beautiful in my whole life!"
She smiled shyly, pleased at the compliment. But of course as yet he
had not seen the other girls in their costumes!
"It's the dress," she explained modestly. "If there's any credit, it
should go to Aunt Emily. She selected it.... I like your costume, too,
Harry. You're Robin Hood, aren't you?"
"Yes--I'm glad you can recognize me, anyway.... But Linda, seriously, I
just know you'll take the prize for the most beautiful woman!"
"I didn't know there was a prize."
"Of course there is. And for the most handsome man. And the best
dancers--and the funniest.... Probably some more I don't remember....
But I guess you never think much about prizes."
"I do about some prizes," she admitted. "Cups for endurance flights,
and high altitudes--and things like that!"
"Naturally--trust you to be up on anything connected with airplanes. I
suppose you'll be winning some of them yourself sometime. But when it
comes to social events----"
"Well, you're often the same way, Harry," she teased. "Look at the
parties you passed up last winter, just because of your engineering
course!"
The boy smiled, not at all displeased by the observation, for he was
a youth who took his studies seriously. Unlike Maurice Stetson and
Ralph Clavering, who seemed interested only in the fraternities and the
sports at college, he went there with the idea of working. And he liked
Linda all the better for recognizing his ambition and understanding it.
"But we oughtn't to stand here talking, forgetting all about your
taxi," Linda reminded her companion. "Why don't you dismiss it, and
take my car?"
"A queen mustn't drive!" he protested. "And you wouldn't like me to run
your car----"
"I don't mind you, Harry. You're never careless. It's people like
Maurice that I can't bear to see handle it."
"I don't blame you one bit," he said, and realizing that she would
really prefer to go in her own roadster, he did as she suggested.
All the way to the Casino they both carefully avoided any mention of
Kitty Clavering's loss, or, in fact, of anything distasteful--even
the quarrel with Ralph and the change of plans which had thrown them
together as partners. Linda asked him how the different members of the
crowd had paired off, and Harry told her as much as he had happened to
learn at the lake that afternoon. Kit and Maurice were of course going
together, and Dot Crowley and Jim Valier--the smallest and the tallest
members of their set. Sara Wheeler had promised Jackson Stiles, and
Harry seemed to recall that Sue Emery was accompanying Joe Sinclair. He
did not mention Louise and Ralph.
It was just a little before nine when they reached the Casino, gayly
lighted with Japanese lanterns, and decorated with flowers and
streamers. The wide French windows of the dance hall were all thrown
open, and the huge verandas were as beautifully lighted as the inside
of the Casino. Strains of music floated out from the orchestra, which
was already in place. Upstairs there would be bridge tables for the
older members of the party and the supper would be served on the
roof-garden.
As the couple entered the wide doors of the Casino, a surging of
pride swept through the young man because of the girl at his side. In
spite of her mask, people must recognize Linda Carlton, so stately, so
lovely, so charming! With what wisdom her aunt had chosen that costume!
The girl was every inch a queen.
In the dressing-room there was naturally a great deal of excitement,
for the girls were all trying to identify each other. Linda spotted
Louise immediately--dressed as an Egyptian Princess. Her costume was
unusual, daring; she stood out among all the others as a sunflower
might among a bunch of spring blossoms. And of course she wore huge,
odd, earrings.
"Linda, you're sweet!" she cried, starting forward to kiss her chum,
and stopping just in time as she remembered the make-up on her lips,
and the amount of time she had consumed putting it there.
"Sh!" warned Linda. "Don't give me away!"
"I won't, darling. But everybody will know you anyhow. Come on--you
couldn't possibly improve yourself! And we must hurry. I hear them
lining up now for the grand march."
A laughing, happy group, the girls made their way back to the ballroom
where their partners claimed them. It amused Linda--and yet it hurt
her a little, too--to see Ralph Clavering lead Louise away without even
seeming to notice her. But Harry Smith was right there too, as if to
protect his partner from any unpleasantness.
The music of the grand march rolled out triumphantly, and the couples
fell into step, circling the big room, and walking past the committee
on the raised platform, whose members were to pass judgment on the
costumes for the awarding of the prizes. As Linda walked demurely at
Harry's side, past this intent, solemn body of men and women, she never
lifted her eyes. She was all the more amazed when, a couple of minutes
later, she heard a childish voice cry out above the music.
"Does 'ou fink me cute?" and, turning about, Linda recognized Dot
Crowley, dressed as a little school-girl, and actually calling
attention to herself. Of course everybody laughed; you just had
to smile at Dot. And her long-legged partner, Jim Valier, dressed
appropriately as Uncle Sam, looked so out-of-place at her side.
The costumes were really marvelous; if Linda had not come for any
other reason than to see them, it would have been worth while. There
were several hundred people at the ball the proceeds of which were
given entirely to charity, and though there were naturally many
repetitions--numerous George and Martha Washingtons, Pierrots and
Pierrettes, clowns and gypsies, there were also many unusual ones.
But although she did not realize it, there was no one in that whole
assembly so charmingly beautiful as Linda Carlton.
The grand march consumed almost an hour, after which the judges
withdrew to make their decisions, and then the dancing began.
The floor was perfect and the music excellent; Linda fell into step
with her partner and gave herself up to the enjoyment the pastime
always afforded her. Whenever she had a good partner like Harry--or
Ralph--she always experienced a marvelous sensation of floating along
to the strains of the music, a sensation that somehow reminded her
of flying. And then they passed Ralph and Louise, and Linda wondered
whether the former would ask her to dance.
After that she danced with all the boys she knew, in turn--all except
Ralph. Even when Harry managed a dance with Louise, while Linda was
dancing with a stag, Ralph did not cut in. But this did not spoil her
good time, for she felt that she had been in the right, championing
Ted, even though her father was on the other side.
Ralph's avoidance of her niece had not escaped Miss Carlton's eyes,
and she sighed. Why was there always some drawback to rich people, she
wondered? But perhaps Ralph would get over his childishness when he
grew older. And in the meantime Linda did not lack for attention.
Just before the party went up to the roof for supper, the prizes were
awarded. Linda Carlton won first prize for the women--and, ludicrous
as it was, Ralph Clavering, as King Arthur, was selected first among
the men. They walked across the floor together, Linda giving him a shy
smile. To Louise and Harry, and Miss Carlton, who knew about the tiff,
the coincidence was very amusing.
Two other guests whom Linda did not know were awarded the prizes for
the funniest costumes, and, to their own amazement, Louise and Ralph
were called out as the couple who had given the best exhibition of
dancing. There was no shyness as these two stepped forward. Ralph,
looking roguish, held out his arms and whistled a tune, and as Louise
slipped into them, they waltzed across the floor.
The supper was gorgeous in every detail: the food was excellent,
the service perfect. Linda felt that she had never been to quite so
magnificent a party before.
"You do like all this, don't you, Linda?" asked her partner, as they
finished their ice-cream, molded in fancy forms, like small dolls
or figurines, in pastel colors. "You really like parties? Because I
sometimes wonder----"
"I love them," replied the girl, her eyes shining. "That is, when they
come once or twice a summer, like this. But I would get awfully tired
of them if I had nothing else."
"But next winter," he reminded her, "when you are a débutante----"
"I'm going to try not to be," she interrupted. "If I can slide out of
it, without hurting Aunt Emily's feelings. I want to go to a ground
school, and study aviation seriously."
"You mean make it your life work?" he asked, respectfully.
"Yes--seriously."
But it was no time to talk; the music had started again, and everybody
wanted to make good use of the last, best hour of the party.
And so for all that evening, Linda Carlton was the care-free, popular
girl that her Aunt Emily loved her to be.