A HOLIDAY PARTY
Sprite could not wait to dress on the morning after the party. Softly
she crept across the floor to the chair over which she had hung her
frock.
From the folds of its girdle she drew the tinted paper, and opening
it she read: "Captain Atherton is to offer a prize to the boy or girl
who has highest rank at Christmas time. Try for it, and I believe that
you will obtain it. Will not that delight your dear father and mother?"
"I _will_ try!" she whispered, "and oh, if it is possible, I'll get
it, just to repay them for letting me have this lovely Winter. I wonder
if it is to be a medal!"
It was her first morning at the home of John Atherton, and as she
looked around the pretty chamber, she knew that she could be very happy
there.
She had enjoyed her stay at Sherwood Hall.
Now commenced another visit with dear Rose Atherton as her companion,
and Sprite wondered why such great good fortune had been given her.
Once she had been a dear little lass by the sea, with two loving
parents, but no playmates. Now, she had Princess Polly, and Rose,
beside ever so many little schoolmates, and she was being cared for
by Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood, and Captain Atherton, who had asked her to
call him, "Uncle John."
"I'm having so much pleasure," she whispered, "that I want to send
some down to the 'Mermaid's Cave.' I'll begin _to-day_ to work for the
prize!"
She seemed unusually quiet at breakfast, and Uncle John wondered if
she were tired from the excitement of the night before, or if she were
a bit homesick.
Gently he questioned her, and she laughed so gaily that at once his
fears were allayed.
"I'm not tired, and not a bit homesick," she said, "but I've been
thinking that I mustn't waste one single minute before Christmas. I
mean to win that prize, and to do that I'll have to work very hard."
"Why, Sprite!" cried Rose, "you've been working hard ever since school
opened."
"I have," she said quietly, "but I'll have to work harder still, and
I'm willing to, if I have to work day and evening."
"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Rose, "she won't have to do that. Her lessons
are _almost_ perfect now. A little more study, and she will easily be
at the head of the class."
It was announced that day at school that Captain John Atherton had
offered a prize for the best average, and Sprite gasped when the teacher
said;
"The prize is well worth working for. It is a large prize for any boy
or girl to win. It is fifty dollars in gold! Now work for it! You will
all gain by trying, for while but one can win the prize, every scholar
who works for it, has higher scholarship, and has acquired more
knowledge than if he had not entered the competition."
The pupils were greatly interested, and it was evident that many
intended to strive for the prize. Harry Grafton, on the way home from
school, turned quickly to look at Rob as he asked;
"What's Gwen Harcourt doing these days?"
"I've no idea," Rob answered in a careless manner, and if he had spoken
his thoughts, he would have said that he did not greatly care.
"Well, she's not going to school, and what is queerer than that, she
isn't coming over here to tell us all about it," Harry said.
There were other matters of greater interest to be talked of, and the
two boys soon forgot Gwen.
Gwen Harcourt never allowed herself to be long forgotten, and one
bright afternoon, she decided to run off by herself and have a little
fun of the kind that she liked best.
She stopped first at Aunt Judith's cottage.
She could not have told why she chose first to call there. Aunt Judith
and the little maid had gone down to the parsonage for a call, and
Gwen knocked until she was tired, then paused on the step, trying to
decide where next she would call.
"Stupid that everyone is in school, and won't be out for an hour!" she
said.
Then her eyes brightened.
"I know where I'll go!" she cried.
She turned from the avenue into a pretty street, and ran along until
she reached a house that set a little farther back than the others.
"There's a lady who lives here who looks pleasant, and I've always
meant to see the inside of her house," thought Gwen. "I can stay a
little while there, and be just in time to meet the other girls when
they come out of school."
She rang the bell.
No one came to the door. After waiting a few moments she rang again.
Again she waited, listening for approaching footsteps. Then she stooped,
and tried to peep through the keyhole. She turned, a crafty light in
her eyes, and she nodded until her curls danced as she softly said;
"What if the door isn't locked? And what if I should walk right in,
and sit down? What would happen?"
She looked elfish as she asked the questions, a smile parting her lips.
Carefully she turned the knob and then, a gentle push opened the door,
and on tiptoe, she entered, making her way along the hall to a room
where the sunlight streamed across the floor.
The hall had been dark, and coming suddenly upon the broad band of
sunlight, Gwen was almost blinded, and for a few seconds, she did not
see other objects in the room. A chair stood near the door, and she
climbed upon it, squirming around, and sitting down as if it were
exactly what she had come intending to do.
She wondered why the house was so still.
She also wondered where the pleasant faced lady was. She felt strangely
nervous, and a bit afraid.
She could not have told why she felt afraid to move, and so sat
absolutely still. Her eyes roved from one object to another, first
looking at the pictures on the wall, then the ornaments upon the mantel,
then the lamp upon the table just before her, then,--
Between the lamp, and a tall vase that stood near it, a pair of eyes
were looking sharply at her.
Gwen clutched the arms of her chair, caught her breath in terror, and
then screamed.
"Strange that I can't read without being interrupted by a child who
knows no better than to poke her impudent little nose in here,
uninvited!"
The voice low and angry made her tremble with fear, and she slid from
the chair, raced out through the hall, ran down the street, never once
looked behind her.
"I won't _ever_ go _anywhere_ again, unless somebody asks me to," she
said to herself. Who that ever had known Gwen would believe that she
could refrain from doing just the same thing, the first time that her
curiosity prompted her? She had been frightened, and, for the moment,
would have promised anything.
The man, a studious, quiet man, with an unpleasant disposition, had
been annoyed when Gwen had interrupted his reading.
Knowing little of children, he had not dreamed that he would frighten
her, and when she ran out, he simply turned another page, and continued
reading.
He had wished her to fully realize that she was an intruder, and when
she turned and ran, he felt that she understood.
The first person that she met was the private teacher who, for the
past few weeks had been endeavoring to have at least a few hours each
day devoted study.
Gwen had refused to look at a lesson book in the forenoon, and when
afternoon had arrived, she had left the house to escape instruction.
"Miss Gwen, I've been looking everywhere for you, and your mamma is
really quite nervous, because you've been gone so long. Where have you
been?" the young woman asked.
"I don't _have_ to tell you," Gwen replied rudely, "but I will because
I want to. I made some calls, and the last one was funny, and queer
too. I was frightened _some_, and I ran out of the house where a cross
man just shouted at me!"
"Was he a neighbor?" the teacher asked, looking curiously at Gwen.
"Of course not," cried Gwen. "What fun would it be to call on neighbors?
I'd rather go to houses where I _don't know_ the people, just for the
sake of seeing what they look like, and how their houses look."
The young teacher was not surprised. That very morning, soon after
breakfast, upon returning to her room, she had found Gwen on her knees
searching her trunk. Gwen had neither blushed, nor looked abashed.
"I wanted to know how many dresses you brought with you," she had said
coolly, "and I don't see but one in the closet, two in this trunk, and
one you have on. Is that all you have?"
Mrs. Harcourt passing the door, looked in to smile at Gwen.
"You mustn't mind if my little daughter examines your belongings in
your trunks or bureau drawers. She's only deeply interested in you,"
she said.
The young governess felt like saying that she did not enjoy the sort
of interest that made a child feel free to handle and examine the
property of others, but she said nothing.
She knew that Mrs. Harcourt considered Gwen faultless.
* * * * * * * *
Weeks had passed since the little pupils had commenced to strive to
win the prize. Now there was great excitement. At the end of the
afternoon session the name of the winner was to be announced, and in
the evening the Holiday party at Sherwood Hall was to be enjoyed.
Of all the boys and girls at school, Sprite Seaford was surely the
most restless.
At one time her cheeks would be hot, and soon after the color would
leave them.
She had worked very, _very_ hard to win the prize.
Oh, whose was it to be?
She clasped, and unclasped her nervous hands.
And when at last the teacher went to the board just back of her desk
and wrote:
"Sprite Seaford, Prize winner," Sprite leaned back in her seat, pale,
and almost breathless. For a moment not a sound broke the silence.
Sprite stared at the written words as if half stunned with surprise.
"Three cheers for Sprite Seaford!" shouted Rob Lindsey, forgetting
that he was in school, and the teacher laughed outright.
"Give them, every one of you," she cried, and they gave them with a
will.
* * * * * * * *
Evening had come, starlight, moonlight in the great garden at Sherwood
Hall, and a blaze of light indoors, where little feet kept time to
sweet music, and sweeter voices laughed and talked in merry mood.
Princess Polly in white with silver spangles, a silver bandeau holding
her powdered curls in place, looked like a little lady of the time of
Watteau.
Faces and forms were different in character, but the costumes were
similar, because Mrs. Sherwood had asked both boys and girls to come
clad in white, with powdered hair.
It was a Holiday party, and the white costumes suggested the snowy
season.
The walls were hung with holly and mistletoe, and the wreaths and
garlands were tied with scarlet ribbons, while portieres and hangings
were of scarlet brocade.
Rosy cheeks and red lips looked well with the powdered hair, and bright
eyes twinkled beneath snowy bangs.
A slender figure dressed in the gaudy colors of a court jester, skipped
here and there between the dancers making comical jokes, while he
tossed, and nimbly caught a bright colored ball.
Still they danced to merry measures, and from behind a damask curtain
came a slender girl in hues as bright as that of the jester.
A basket of beautiful flowers hung from her arm, and these she offered
to the little guests.
The boys placed them in their buttonholes, and the girls tucked the
roses and lilies in their girdles.
Hark! A flourish of silvery trumpets announced the arrival of some
great personage!
Another long, sweet note, and there strode into the room a tall figure
in crimson velvet and white fur, with snowy beard, and kindly face,
across whose breast gold letters bespoke his name:
"King Christmas."
A great pack was on his back, which when opened, gave forth beautiful
gifts for all.
There were bangles for the girls, there were rings, or silver pencils
for the boys, and a kindly word he spoke to each as he presented the
gift.
"Now here's a little purse of fifty gold dollars for the little lass
who won it by faithful study, and the giver permits me to present it.
Come, little lass, and take it, for now it belongs to you."
Sprite ran to him, as he stood waiting.
"Oh, I know you, King Christmas! You are good, kind Uncle John! I know
your pleasant voice that I've learned to love so well!" she said.
"Even as I love you, dear child," he cried, placing a strong arm around
her slender little form, while with the other hand he tore off the
beard that so disguised him.
"I am King Christmas," he said, laughing gaily as he pointed proudly
to the golden letters on his breast.
"Also Baron Goodfellow!" said Mr. Sherwood. "That name fits you just
as well."
"Prince Give Give wouldn't be half bad," said Rob Lindsey, "for he's
wild to give _somebody something_, all the time."
"Everyone in this house to-night is dear," said Sprite.
"Including you, Sprite Seaford," said Rose, and little Sprite felt
that she had never been so happy.
There were merry games, and then refreshments, and then more games in
which the elders joined, and when "good nights" were said, the guests
turned homeward with happy hearts.
The moonlight shimmered on the snow, and glittered on the pendant
icicles, and the keen, frosty air proved it to be true Holiday weather.
Jingling sleigh bells, tooting auto horns, voices talking, and laughing
at the same time told of a gay evening that all had enjoyed.
They would dream of the party that night, and talk of it on the morrow.
There was one thing that no one thought of until some time after the
party, and it was Leslie who spoke of it, to Rose and Princess Polly.
"Only think!" she said, "Mrs. Harcourt has had three different teachers
for Gwen this Winter, because Gwen has acted so that the first and
second left, and Gwen said yesterday that the one they have now is to
leave next Monday."
"Why _does_ she act so horrid?" said Rose.
"I'll tell you one nice thing about Gwen," said Princess Polly, "and
that is that she didn't do one single thing at my party that wasn't
nice."
"Why, truly she didn't!" cried Rose and Sprite together.