BERYL'S BIRTHDAY PARTY
PERCY'S bruised and sprained foot healed slowly, and the doctor
enjoined rest for many days to come. It was no small trial to the
active, restless youth to be thus kept a prisoner in his room; but he
bore the confinement with tolerable patience. His injuries brought him
much attention and commiseration. Miss Burton continued his faithful
nurse, and dressed his wounds, and waited upon him with gentle care and
skill. Mr. Hollys showed the greatest solicitude for his comfort, and
even Miss Hollys made a daily visit to his room to enquire how he felt,
and whether there were anything she could do for him. To the latter
query, which was merely formal, Percy always responded by a decided
negative. Once, by way of experiment, he offered to unbandage his
wounded limb for her inspection, whereupon the lady hastily retreated,
declaring that she should faint if she saw so dreadful a sight.
Perhaps Percy found his chief consolation during the monotonous course
of these days in the visits which Coral and Beryl paid him. The
children's society seemed to amuse him greatly, and he coaxed Miss
Burton into shortening their school hours, that he might see more of
them. They managed to play dominoes beside his couch, and he began to
initiate Beryl into the mysteries of backgammon; and after declaring
repeatedly that it was a stupid game, and had no fun in it, she
discovered its fascination, as she came gradually to understand it.
With such diversions, the hours passed swiftly, and Friday drew
near—the day so eagerly anticipated—without Beryl's gaining the least
clue to the "splendid idea" which Percy was determined to keep from
her. It was very tantalising to be thus in the dark regarding it. She
was sure that Miss Burton was in the secret, and she fancied that her
father also shared it.
Mr. Hollys received several large packages from Plymouth, concerning
the contents of which he refused to satisfy Beryl's curiosity. She
knew that these packages were carried into Percy's room and unpacked
there; and she shrewdly guessed that they had some connection with her
birthday fête, as Percy chose to call it. But she could only whisper
her conjectures to Coral, and wait patiently for time to reveal the
mystery.
All Thursday the children were in the greatest excitement. They
deserted Percy, in their eagerness to watch the various preparations
for the grand event of the morrow, which were going on in the
household. Cook quite entered into the spirit of the thing, and used
her utmost skill in the making of cakes and tarts for the children's
treat. A delicious smell of baking came from the kitchen, and the
children, stealing frequently through the baize door, were delighted
by seeing tins full of crisp, brown buns, or the most tempting of jam
tarts lifted out of the oven. The occasion called for a large supply of
such dainties, since general invitation had been given to the village
children, and all who could come would be sure to avail themselves of
it.
When they had seen what was doing in the kitchen, and tasted some of
the good things, in order to judge if they were fit to set before their
guests, Coral and Beryl would wander out of doors to watch Andrew's
operations. He was making himself useful in various ways; they saw
him hang a fine swing in the empty barn at the back of the house,
and proceeded to test its soundness without loss of time. Then they
followed him about the garden, and gave him much advice and assistance,
with which he could easily have dispensed, as he arranged tables and
seats for the expected guests.
"What shall we do if it rains?" exclaimed Coral, when they had seen all
the tables firmly set.
"Oh, it won't rain!" exclaimed Beryl.
And Andrew being a weather-wise man, was able to assure them that there
was little cause to fear rain for the next forty-eight hours.
"Well, Duchess," exclaimed Percy, when the children came to his room
that evening to say "good-night"; "is everything arranged to your
satisfaction?"
"Oh yes," replied Beryl; "everything is perfect. Andrew has made the
most delightful swing in the barn, and cook has made the most delicious
cakes and tarts, and everything is scrumptious. Isn't that the word you
say?"
"Not at all the word for a duchess to use," said Percy gravely.
"Well, I don't care if it's not. I'm not a duchess, and I hate to be
called so!" said Beryl. "Oh, I wish to-morrow would make haste and
come. I am sure I shall not be able to sleep for thinking of it."
"I say, Beryl," said Percy, "what do you think your father has been
suggesting? He thinks I might be got downstairs to-morrow, and lie in
state on a sofa on the lawn, so as to see something of the fun. What do
you say to that?"
For a few moments Beryl did not know what to say. The idea of Percy's
watching and commenting upon all that went on did not readily fall in
with her preconceived notions of the treat. She was silent.
"Oh, I see," said Percy; "you would much rather I kept upstairs out of
the way of everything."
"No, I would not, Percy," exclaimed Beryl, with sudden decision. "I
should like you to be there."
"You don't mean that?" he returned.
"Yes I do. I always mean what I say," replied Beryl with dignity.
"Then why didn't you speak sooner?" said Percy.
"Because I was thinking," said plain-spoken Beryl; "I was not sure at
first whether I should like your being there. But now I think that it
will be very nice."
"What a queer creature you are, Beryl!" exclaimed Percy laughing.
"Oh, well, if you are going to call me names, I'll go to bed at once,"
said Beryl. "Good-night."
But though she pretended to be offended, she went away feeling
perfectly good-tempered. She had now not the least remnant of enmity
towards Percy in her heart.
Restless and impatient though Beryl felt, her young, healthful fatigue
prevailed over excitement, and she slept soundly that night.
The morning dawned as fresh and beautiful a September morn as any one
could desire. The early breeze was cool and bracing; but by the middle
of the day, the sun had gained great power, and all agreed that the
weather was perfection, being neither too hot nor too cold.
Beryl and Coral were in the garden, ready to receive their guests, a
full half-hour before the time appointed; but they had not long to
wait, for scarcely one child arrived late, and many, in their eagerness
to come, were unpunctual on the safe side.
The young guests made rather a formidable crowd as they gathered
on the lawn. There were no less than eighty children of all ages,
ranging from four to fifteen. For the first few minutes there was much
shyness and constraint manifested by the young visitors; but Beryl,
with Miss Burton's help, soon put an end to that. Parties were formed
for croquet, hide-and-seek, and other games. The swing proved a great
attraction, and was never once empty the whole afternoon. When Mr.
Hollys and Andrew wheeled Percy on to the lawn, an hour later, the
garden was echoing with the shouts of merry voices, and every one
seemed thoroughly happy.
Delightfully engaged though she was, Beryl yet managed to slip out
of the game in order to run and greet Percy, and enquire if he were
comfortable on his couch under the walnut tree. The attention pleased
him, though he would not let her stay more than a minute by his side,
but sent her back to her guests.
The scene changed at five o'clock. By that time, the tables under the
trees had been loaded with ample supplies of bread, cakes, tarts, ripe
fruit, and rich Cornish cream. The servants brought large urns of
hot tea and milk, and the young people, small and great, having been
comfortably placed, began to enjoy the good things set before them.
Beryl presided at one table, Coral at another, and Miss Burton at the
third. Mr. Hollys passed to and fro, and saw that every one was cared
for. Miss Hollys also came to look on.
It was indeed a pleasant sight to watch the children's honest enjoyment
of the feast. They came from their active games in the open air with
hearty appetites. But though hungry, they showed no greediness.
Poor and untaught though they were, they were not ill-mannered. The
honest Cornish race of which they came, though blunt in speech, and
rough in deed, has a certain innate refinement of its own. Mr. Hollys
was charmed with the behaviour of Beryl's guests.
"I have seen children of the upper classes whose breeding would be
put to shame by the manners of these youngsters," he remarked to Miss
Burton. She was too busy at the moment to do more than assent to his
words; but she noted the remark, and hoped to turn it to good account
at some other time.
It was not at tea-time that the children's enjoyment reached its
highest point. That was gained later in the evening, when daylight
faded and the stars looked out from the pale sky.
Then, at last, Percy's grand mystery was divulged, and Beryl learned
what had been the contents of the curious-looking packages which had
excited her curiosity. They were cases of fireworks, the best that
could be obtained, and such as none of the children at Egloshayle had
ever seen. The wonder and delight of the young people surpassed all
bounds when, under Percy's direction, the first rocket was shot into
the air, and breaking, shed a glorious shower of many-coloured stars.
Some of the little ones were rather frightened by the noise and glare;
but they quickly forgot their fear when they saw the pretty stars, and
stood holding out their little hands to catch them when they fell to
earth. They were sorry to find that this was impossible. There was a
large supply of rockets of various kinds, famous Catherine wheels, and
other imposing illuminations. Percy had made a capital selection of
fireworks, and had not miscalculated the pleasure their display would
give.
It was a delightful surprise to Coral and Beryl, and they enjoyed
the sight quite as much as their guests. The garden rang with joyous
acclamations as one wonder succeeded another. Nor was this all. When
the fireworks were burnt out, and in the dim light the children could
scarcely see each other's faces, suddenly lights began to gleam
here and there amongst the foliage, and it appeared that Andrew, in
obedience to Percy's orders, had been fastening bright-coloured Chinese
lanterns at short distances along the garden walks.
With these brightly burning, the garden looked like a scene from
fairyland. The novel illumination was hailed with the greatest
satisfaction by all, and the children thoroughly enjoyed their last
merry romp on the lawn. Then, when they had refreshed themselves with
a repast of milk and cakes, the guests began to take their leave. The
elder ones withdrew with evident reluctance; but their tiny brothers
and sisters were growing tired and sleepy, and it was already past the
hour at which their mothers expected them to return.
So with hearty good-will, and some rough attempts at thanks, Beryl's
little scholars and their friends wished her and Coral good-night, and
went gladly home to tell their parents what a wonderful time they had
had.
Beryl and Coral were left tired out with the fatigue and excitement of
entertaining and enjoying, but very pleased with the success of their
party. Nothing could have gone off better, as they declared again and
again. Every one had been pleased. There was absolutely no cause for
regret.
"Well, Beryl, my darling,"' said her father, putting his arm around her
as they walked together to the house, "has your birthday party come up
to your expectations? Have you enjoyed it as much as you thought you
would have?"
"Oh yes, papa, as much, and more," exclaimed Beryl; "nothing could be
more delightful. It has been the happiest day of my life. How good of
Percy to think of those fireworks? And the lanterns too!—who thought of
them?"
"It was all Master Percy's planning," said Mr. Hollys; "you must thank
him for the illuminations."
Beryl felt as if she could not thank him properly. How much he had
contributed to the enjoyment of her guests! And she had actually wished
him away, thinking that he would spoil everything! What a change had
come over her feelings towards Percy within the last few days!