TOO MUCH PARTY
Betty shared a room with Bobby. The single beds were separated by a
table on which an electric drop light and the water pitcher and glasses
were placed.
Betty's first impulse was to snap on the light, but as she put out her
hand, Esther grasped her wrist.
"It's only me," she whispered, her teeth chattering with fright. "Don't
wake Bobby up."
"Are you cold?" asked Betty, sitting up anxiously. "Perhaps you were too
warm dancing. Do you want to get into bed with me?"
It was a warm night for October, and Betty was at a loss to understand
Esther's shivering.
"I can't find Libbie!" Esther cried. "Oh, Betty, I never thought she
would do it, never."
Betty reached for her dressing gown and slippers.
"Don't cry, or you'll wake up Bobby," she advised the sobbing Esther.
"Come on, I'll go back with you. Don't make a noise."
The girls occupied three connecting rooms, and Esther and Libbie had
slept in the end of the suite. To reach it now, the two girls had to go
through the room where Louise and Frances lay slumbering peacefully.
Betty breathed a sigh of relief when they gained Esther's room and she
closed the door carefully and turned on the light.
Esther's bed, madly tumbled, and Libbie's, evidently occupied that night,
but now empty, were revealed.
Esther dropped down on the floor, wrapping her kimono about her, and
regarded Betty trustfully. She was sure her friend would straighten
things out.
"Where is Libbie?" demanded Betty. "What is she doing?"
"I don't know," admitted Esther unhappily. "But I tell you what I
think--I think she's eloped!"
Esther was only eleven, and as she sat on the floor and stared at Betty
from great wet blue eyes, she seemed very young indeed.
"Eloped!" gasped Betty. "Why, I never heard of such a thing!"
"She's always talking about it," the younger girl wailed, beginning to
cry again. "She says it's the most romantic way to be married, and she
means to throw her hope chest out of the window first and slide down a
rope made of bedsheets."
"Well, I think it's very silly to talk like that," scolded Betty. "And,
what's more, Esther, however much Libbie may talk of eloping, she hasn't
done it this time. All her clothes are here, and her shoes and her hat.
Here's her purse on the dresser, too."
"I never thought of looking to see if her clothes were here," confessed
Esther. "But then, where is she, Betty?"
"That's what I mean to find out," announced Betty, with more confidence
than she felt. "Come on, Esther. And don't trip on your kimono or walk
into anything."
They tiptoed out into the wide hall and had reached the head of the
beautiful carved staircase when they saw a dim form coming toward them.
Esther nearly shrieked aloud, but Betty put a hand over her mouth in
time.
"Who--who, who-o-o are you?" stammered Betty, her heart beating so fast
it was painful.
"Betty!" Bob stifled a gasp. "For the love of Mike! what are you doing at
this time of night?"
"Esther's here--we're hunting for Libbie," whispered Betty. "She isn't in
her room."
"So that's it!" For some reason unknown to the girls Bob seemed to be
vastly relieved. "I was just going after Mr. Littell," he added.
"But Libbie is lost! Maybe she is sick," urged Betty.
"She's all right," declared Bob confidently. "You see, I couldn't go to
sleep, and after I'd been in bed about an hour I got up and sat by the
window. I was staring down into the garden, and all of a sudden I saw
something white begin to move and creep about. I watched it a few moments
and I got the idea it was a burglar or a sneak thief, it kept so close to
the house. I came down to call Mr. Littell and bumped into you."
"Do you suppose it is Libbie?" chattered Esther. "Why would she go into
the garden in the middle of the night?"
"Walking in her sleep," explained Bob. "I've heard it is dangerous to
waken a sleep-walker suddenly. Perhaps you'd better call Mrs. Littell,
Betty, and I'll sit here on the window seat and see that she doesn't walk
out into the road."
The two girls hurried off and tapped lightly on Mrs. Littell's door. That
lady hurriedly admitted them, her motherly mind instantly picturing
something wrong.
"It's Libbie," said Betty softly. "Bob saw her from his window in the
garden and he thinks she's walking in her sleep. We don't want to
frighten her. What can we do?"
"I'll be right out," said Mrs. Littell reassuringly. "Libbie's mother
used to walk in her sleep, too. I think I can get the child into bed
without waking her at all."
In a few moments she came out, a heavy corduroy robe and slippers
protecting her against the night air.
"Esther, lamb, you stay here in the hall with Bob," she directed her
youngest daughter. "You won't be afraid with Bob, will you, dear? I don't
want too many to go down or we may startle Libbie."
Betty crept downstairs after Mrs. Littell, the soft, thick rugs making
their progress absolutely noiseless. Not a step in the well-built
staircase creaked.
They found the chain and bolt drawn from the heavy front door. Libbie had
evidently let herself out with no difficulty. From the wide hall window
Bob and Esther watched breathlessly.
"Just go up to her quietly and take one of her hands," Mrs. Littell
whispered to Betty. "I'll take the other, and, if I'm not mistaken, we
can lead her into the house."
Libbie stood motionless beside a rosebush as they approached her. Her
eyes were wide open, and her dark hair floated over her shoulders. In her
white nightdress, the moonlight full upon her, she looked very pretty and
yet so weird that Betty could not repress a shiver.
Mrs. Littell did not speak, but took one of the limp hands in hers, and
Betty took the other. Libbie made no resistance, and allowed them to
draw her toward the house. They crossed the threshold, led her upstairs,
past the quivering Esther and Bob huddled on the windowseat, and into the
bedroom she had so unceremoniously left.
Then Mrs. Littell lifted her in strong arms, put her gently down on the
bed, and Libbie rolled up like a little kitten, tucked one hand under her
cheek and continued to sleep.
"Now go to bed, children, do," commanded Mrs. Littell. "Bob, I'm so
thankful you saw that child--she might have wandered off or caught a
severe cold. As it is, I don't believe she has been out very long. What's
the matter, Esther?"
"Can I come and sleep with you?" pleaded Esther. "I'm afraid to sleep
with Libbie. She might do it again."
"I don't think so--not to-night," said her mother, smiling. "However,
chicken, come and sleep with me if you'll rest better."
Betty awoke and went in later that night to see if Libbie had vanished
again, but found her sleeping normally. In the morning the girl was much
surprised to find she had been wandering in the garden and betrayed
considerable interest in the details. Betty decided that it would be
better to omit Esther's belief that she had eloped, and Libbie was
allowed to remain in blissful ignorance of the action her youthful cousin
attributed to her.
The last day sped by all too soon, and what the Tucker twins persisted
in pessimistically designating the "fateful Thursday" was upon them.
"I don't know why you sigh so frequently," dimpled Betty, who sat next to
Tommy Tucker at the breakfast table. "I'm very anxious to go to school.
Don't you really like to go back?"
"It's like this," said Tommy, the "dark Tucker twin," solemnly. "From
four to ten p.m. (except on drill nights) I like it well enough, and from
ten, lights out, till six, reveille, I'm fairly contented. But from nine
to four, when we're cooped up in classrooms, I simply detest school!"
Teddy, the "light Tucker twin," nodded in confirmation.
"I suppose we have to be educated," he admitted, with the air of one
making a generous concession to public opinion, "but I don't see why they
find it necessary to prolong the agony. Any one who can read and write
can make a living."
"Perhaps your father hopes you'll do a bit more than that," suggested Mr.
Littell slyly.
This effectually silenced the twins, for their wealthy father was a
splendid scientist who had made several explorations that had contributed
materially to the knowledge of the scientific world, and he had lost the
sight of one eye in a laboratory experiment undertaken to advance the
cause for which he labored.
The Littell car carried the twelve to the station soon after
breakfast, and though Shadyside and Salsette, unlike many of the large
northern schools, ran no "special," the few passengers who were not
school bound found themselves decidedly in the minority on the "9:36
local" that morning.
"Remember, Betty, you and Bob are to spend the holidays with us," said
Mrs. Littell, as she kissed her good-bye. "If your uncle comes down from
Canada, he must come, too."
"All aboard!" shouted the conductor, who foresaw a lively trip. "No'm,
you can't go through the gate--nobody can."
The crowd of fathers and mothers and younger brothers and sisters
pressed close to the iron grating as the train got under way. On the
back platform the Tucker twins raised their voices in a school yell that
would have horrified the dignified heads of the Academy had they been
there to hear it.