CHAPTER VI.

UNINVITED GUESTS

"THIS is the last day of October," announced Betty, one morning, tearing

a leaf from the calendar, as was her habit as soon as she finished

dressing. "To-night will be Hallowe'en."

"Do you realize," answered Lloyd, "that we have been at school six whole

weeks without doing a single thing we had planned? We have been

painfully good. Yestahday when I passed the music-room where Professah

Steinwig was giving a violin lesson, I heard him say, 'Ach, you must let

down der strings when you have feenish playing. If you keep him keyed to

von high pitch alway, some day bif! He go break!' That's just the way I

feel this morning; that I've been thinking so much about my shadow-self,

and the work we've undehtaken for the mountain people, that it's kept me

keyed up to too high a pitch of goodness. I've got to let down and get

into some sort of mischief, or bif! I'll go break!"

Betty laughed. "Maybe the changes in the atmosphere affect people as

well as fiddle-strings, and it is because it's Hallowe'en, and witches

are in the air, that you feel so."

It may have been that the faculty were of Betty's opinion, and felt the

spell lurking in the atmosphere. Warned by some mysterious "pricking of

the thumbs" of coming wickedness, they sought to avert it. It was

announced at breakfast that the usual rules would be suspended that

night, and that from seven until eleven the resident pupils would be at

liberty to observe the customs of Hallowe'en anywhere in the building,

and that a spread of nuts, gingerbread, and apples would be furnished in

the gymnasium.

"Headed off again!" exclaimed one of the larger girls who sat near

Lloyd. "It's good of them to grant us such privileges, but we won't have

half the fun that we could have had if they hadn't put us on our honour

this way. I had planned to slip out and go over to Julia Ferris's

to-night. Some of the cadets from the Lyndon military school are coming

up. I wouldn't have hesitated a moment if they had shut down on our

having some fun here, but now they've treated us so handsomely, even to

furnishing a spread, of course I can't go. Hallowe'en is stupid with

just a lot of girls--the same old set we've been going with straight

along."

"We might have a masquerade," suggested Susie Figgs. "That would make us

feel as if we were meeting strangers."

The suggestion ran along the table like wild-fire, and was so

enthusiastically received that Susie felt herself a public benefactor,

and beamed with importance the rest of the day.

"Oh, what shall _I_ go as?" was the despairing question immediately

heard in every quarter, for the time was short in which to improvise

costumes. The matron was besieged by distracted borrowers with requests

for everything, from a blanket for Pocahontas, to a sunshade and

watering-pot for "Mistress Mary, quite contrary."

Lloyd's costume cost her little trouble aside from borrowing a horn from

one of the children in the neighbourhood; for Mom Beck, coming in with

the laundry before school, volunteered her services. In an old chest in

the linen-room at Locust were many odds and ends left over from private

theatricals and fancy-dress occasions. Mom Beck remembered an old blue

velvet skirt that she thought could be made into a suit for Little Boy

Blue before night, if Aunt Cindy's daughter would help her with the

knickerbockers, and hurried away to begin, carrying Lloyd's measure and

a Zouave jacket belonging to one of her summer suits, for a pattern.

From that same chest came a dress and hat which Mrs. Sherman had worn in

a tableau years before as a Dresden shepherdess, which transformed Betty

into the prettiest little Bo-Peep that could be imagined.

Allison and Kitty, taking advantage of the relaxed rules, slipped up the

stairs before going home after school, to look at the costumes lying

spread out on Lloyd's bed.

"I think it's a shame that day pupils can't come, too," said Allison,

wrathfully. "We're left out all around, for we're not old enough to be

invited to Julia Ferris's party. We were going to have a party at our

house, but mother and auntie had to go to town to stay all night. Aunt

Elise is entertaining some old army officer's wife. So we can't have any

fun."

"Don't you think that for a moment!" exclaimed Kitty. "Mrs. Mallard said

that Katie might come and stay all night with us. Mother telephoned to

her just before she started to town."

A daring thought popped into Lloyd's mind. "Why don't you come to-night?

It's a masquerade. You could slip in heah to our room befoah they

unmask, and nobody would evah find out who you were. It couldn't be moah

fortunately arranged. Little Elise is in town with yoah mothah, and you

could easily slip away from Barbry and the cook. You could sleep in heah

with us, and run home early in the mawning befoah anybody was up. I'll

unlock the doah at the head of the outside stairs, and you can sneak in

back way while we are at suppah."

"Oh, how I'd love to!" began Allison, "but I'm sure that mother and Mrs.

Mallard wouldn't like it, and--"

"Now, Allison," interrupted Kitty, "you know that nobody ever told us

_not_ to come, did they? It wouldn't be disobeying unless we'd been

forbidden."

"All sorts of larks are allowed on Hallowe'en," urged Lloyd. "Not a soul

outside of the Shadow Club will know who you are, and it will be such

fun to set everybody to guessing who you are and where you've gone, when

you suddenly disappear."

"Yes, we'll come," said Kitty, seizing Allison by the waist and dancing

her toward the door. "I'll take the blame if there is any. Hurry up, old

Grandma Prim, we'll have to hustle. We've barely time to run home and

eat our supper and get dressed and back here before the affair begins."

Kitty's enthusiasm, like an energetic young whirlwind, swept away every

objection her sister could offer, and a few minutes later they were on

their way home, eagerly discussing with Katie Mallard what costumes they

could get ready in an hour.

Lloyd, who had followed them to the head of the stairs, turned back to

her room with a naughty thrill of enjoyment. This escapade would add a

spice of excitement to the evening, and she already tingled with the

anticipation of it. There was a mischievous smile on her face as she

walked down the hall. But it disappeared as she caught the muffled sound

of some one sobbing. She stood still to listen. It seemed to come from

Magnolia Budine's room, the door of which stood ajar.

Since the day that the old autograph-album had been put into her hands,

Lloyd had felt a peculiar interest in the child who prayed every night

that some day she might "grow nice enough for the Princess to like her."

She had showed this interest by many little attentions which kept

Magnolia in a flutter of happiness for hours afterward. Although she

still coloured with embarrassment to the roots of her flaxen hair when

the Princess stooped to speak to her, she no longer choked and

swallowed her chewing-gum. In fact, she no longer chewed, since she

noticed that the Princess disdained the habit.

It was Elise who confided this fact to Lloyd, and many other things

which not only flattered her vanity, but aroused a real affection for

the ardent little soul who showed her admiration by copying her in every

way possible.

"She looks up to me as I look up to Ida," thought Lloyd. "I ought to be

good to the poor little thing."

As she paused an instant in the hall, wondering whether it would be

kinder to go in and offer comfort or to go away showing no sign of

having overheard her sobs, it suddenly occurred to her what was the

cause of Magnolia's grief. Probably she had no costume for the

masquerade. Nothing the huge carpet-bag held could be made into one.

There was no one to help her, and she felt left out of the Hallowe'en

frolic. Lloyd hesitated no longer. The next moment she was wiping

Magnolia's eyes, and restoring her to her usual blushing cheerfulness.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," she said. "We'll run over to Clovercroft,

and ask Miss Katherine to lend us something. I have to go, anyhow, to

borrow a horn. Mrs. Marks told me that I could have one that Buddy left

there last summah. He's one of her grandchildren. Miss Katherine is an

artist. She has a great big camera in her studio, and takes bettah

pictuahs than any professional photographah could, because she thinks of

all sorts of beautiful things to pose people for. She gets a medal or a

prize every time she places a pictuah on exhibition, and I'm suah she

can think of something for you to be."

In such a state of rapture that she felt she must be dreaming, Magnolia

followed Lloyd down-stairs to ask the principal's permission to go over

to Clovercroft.

"I know a place where there are two pickets loose," said Lloyd, as they

hurried across the lawn. "If you can squeeze through the fence we'll

save time. Every minute is precious now."

Breathless and panting from their run, the children reached the side

door just as the coloured man opened it on his way out for an armful of

wood.

"Frazer, we want to see Miss Katherine," announced Lloyd, who was enough

at home at Clovercroft to know all the servants.

"She's in the music-room, Miss Lloyd," he answered. "You all kin walk

right in."

"Is there any company there? We want to see her alone," said Lloyd,

with a dignified air that made Magnolia look at her admiringly.

"No'm, jes' she an' her maw, listenin' to Miss Flora play." He held the

door open for them to enter, and motioned toward the music-room door,

which stood ajar. A bright fire blazed on the white tiled hearth. On one

side sat a gentle, sweet-faced lady in black; "Buddy's grandmother,"

thought Magnolia, as she noticed her gray hair. On the other side, on a

low stool, with her hands clasped over her knees, sat Miss Katherine,

looking into the embers. The firelight shone on her red dress, and cast

a rosy glow to every part of the cheerful room. Both were listening so

intently to the soft nocturne that Miss Flora was playing, that Lloyd's

knock made them start with surprise.

"Well, well! It's the Little Colonel!" exclaimed the lady in black,

holding out her hand to welcome her. "Come up to the fire, my dear. Both

of you." She smiled reassuringly at Magnolia, who leaned against a chair

by the door, staring around her with big blue eyes, like a frightened

kitten.

Lloyd plunged into her story at once, for the time was too short to

stand on ceremony. At the mention of costumes Miss Katherine was all

attention, and turned to Magnolia with critical interest.

"Suppose you take her hair out of those tight little tails," she

suggested "and let me see how long it is."

Lloyd obeyed instantly, and the soft, light hair, released from its

plaits, stood out in a short, frizzy crop, reaching only a little below

her collar. It was very becoming. Lloyd was amazed at the change it made

in the child's appearance.

"The very thing I want for my Knave of Hearts!" cried Miss Katherine,

clasping her hands enthusiastically, and turning toward her mother. "I

am illustrating that old jingle about the Queen of Hearts who made some

tarts upon a summer day. I've a lovely picture for the queen, but I

haven't been able to find a suitable boy for the knave 'who spied those

tarts and stole them all away.' But there she stands. Her hair is

exactly the right length, and she's so fat and cute that if I can just

get her to roll those round blue eyes the way I want them, it will make

a perfect love of a picture."

"But the costume," suggested Mrs. Marks. "It is so elaborate, and the

time is short."

Miss Katherine looked at the clock. "One can do wonders in an hour," she

said, and burying her face in her hands a moment, she thought intently.

"Genius burns," she announced in a moment, looking up at her sister.

"Where's that little white duck suit that Lucien outgrew and left here

one summer? I saved it for just such an emergency. I'm sure it will fit

her."

"Packed away in the tower-room," answered Miss Flora. "I know just where

to put my hand on it, though. Is there anything else you want while I am

up there?"

"Yes, some scraps of red velvet if there are any left in the piece-bag.

I have everything else we'll need, in the studio. That red canton

flannel I sometimes use for draping backgrounds, will make a long

flowing cape to hang from the back of his neck and sweep the ground

behind him."

Magnolia felt as if she were a big doll as she was handed around from

one to another in the trying on process, when Miss Flora came back with

the suit. It did fit her passably well, and she and Lloyd were set to

work at once, cutting out dozens of red velvet hearts.

"Makes me think of the time that I was the Queen of Hearts at Gingah's

valentine pah'ty, and the old bear that the boys tied to the bedpost

frightened us neahly to death," said Lloyd.

Snip, snip went both pair of scissors, and as fast as the hearts were

cut, Miss Katherine and Miss Flora sewed them on to the little white

duck blouse and knickerbockers. Even Mrs. Marks helped, fastening frills

of black ribbon and great gilt buckles on some old red house-slippers of

Buddy's. It grew dark while they worked. Frazer lighted the lamps and

piled more wood on the fire, and Lloyd began to think uneasily that the

supper-bell would be ringing at the seminary soon.

But in shorter time than seemed possible, everything was done. When

Magnolia was led to the long hall mirror to look at herself, she was

unable to believe that what she saw was her own reflection. It looked

like some bright-coloured illustration taken from a lovely picture-book.

Red hearts dotted the white duck suit, and white hearts the long red

cape which trailed gracefully from her shoulders. A funny little crown

copied in red and white pasteboard from the one they found on the Jack

of Hearts in a deck of cards, rested on the short, light hair, curling

up around her ears. There were lace ruffles at her wrists, and a tin

sword at her side, and in her outstretched hands a little pie-tin,

borrowed from the cook.

"Turn your head to one side, as if you were looking over your shoulder,"

commanded Miss Katherine, "and hold the tart up high in front. Now lift

your feet and sway back as if you were cake-walking. There, mamma, isn't

that a perfect reproduction of the picture in our old Mother Goose? I'm

charmed!"

The dropping of the tight-waisted, old-fashioned blue dress for this

story-book attire changed the child's appearance so completely that she

looked into the mirror half-frightened, feeling that her old self had

run away from her. But there were Mrs. Marks and Miss Flora exclaiming

"How pretty!" and the Princess clapping her hands and fluttering around

her, calling out that she was perfectly lovely, and made the darlingest

little Knave of Hearts that ever was seen, and Miss Katherine saying

that if she would come over the next day at noon she would take her

photograph.

No one had even called her pretty before, and she had never had her

picture taken. Her eyes sparkled and her face lighted up as she turned

again to the mirror.

"You and Betty come over to-morrow, too," said Miss Katherine to Lloyd,

as she buttoned up the blue dress again, so that Magnolia could go back

to supper. "I'd like to add Boy Blue and Bo-Peep to my Mother Goose

gallery."

It was dark when Lloyd and Magnolia squeezed through the fence again and

ran up the stairs to the room. As Lloyd passed the portiere at the end

of the hall she pushed it aside and drew back the bolt, as she had

promised Kitty to do. They had barely time to lay their bundles on

Magnolia's bed when the supper-bell rang, and they ran down to the

dining-room. Lloyd was all aglow with excitement and pleasure over the

success of the last hour's work, but Magnolia had shrunk back into the

same timid little creature she was before her transformation. She had

put her hair back into the tight little tails again before leaving

Clovercroft, so that her disguise would be the more complete when she

unloosed it and appeared as the little knave.

Meantime, Allison and Kitty, hurrying home with their guest, had

delighted Norah by a demand for early supper. She and Barbry were

expecting some friends from Rollington, a little Irish village near the

Valley, and would be glad to be through with their work an hour earlier

than usual.

"And you needn't light up for us down-stairs, except in the

dining-room," said Allison, "for we're going straight to our rooms after

supper, and we don't want to be disturbed till to-morrow morning."

"Very well, miss," answered Barbry, who, a middle-aged woman, was the

most trustworthy of well-trained maids. Mrs. Walton never felt any

hesitancy in leaving the children in her care.

"And--oh, Barbry," said Allison, as she turned to leave the room.

"To-night is Hallowe'en, and they say the witches are out and ghosts

rise out of their graves. What is that tale they tell about a ghost that

used to be seen about the seminary grounds?"

"Sure, an' your mother would be afther gettin' angry if I filled your

heads with such nonsense. Who said there was ever a ghost at all in the

Valley?"

But after much teasing Barbry allowed herself to be persuaded into

telling a tale that had been afloat for years, of the little woman in

gray who had once owned the land on which the seminary was built. She

lived all alone, and was an odd character. Her peculiar mode of living,

and the mystery surrounding her death, gave rise to the rumour that her

spirit still haunted the seminary grounds. It was said that the little

woman never appeared in public without a gray veil, and her wraith was

recognized by the long gauzy covering floating loosely back from its

face, not gray but white, as more becoming a spirit.

No sooner had Barbry finished her tale than Allison beckoned the girls

to follow, and led the way up-stairs to the sewing-room. "I thought at

first I'd just put a pillow-case over my head and wrap up in a sheet,

but I'm going to make the girls think I'm the real article. How will

this do?"

Taking a roll of cotton from one of the shelves, she pinned it over her

hair to make a short white wig, powdered her face till it was as white

as the cotton, and over it all threw a long piece of tulle, which she

brought from a bureau drawer in her room. "Aunt Elise gave it to me last

time I was in town," she said. "She had yards and yards of it that had

been used some way in decorating with lilies for a luncheon. Wait till I

wrap a sheet around me. Now how do I look?"

"Perfectly awful!" exclaimed Kitty, gazing at her in fascinated wonder

that flesh and blood could look so truly ghost-like. Katie hid her eyes

with a little scream.

"Don't look at me that way," she begged. "If you are this terrifying in

daylight to people who know who you are, what will you be at night?"

Well satisfied with the effect she had produced, Allison folded up the

veil, carefully removed the wig, and washed the powder from her face,

while Kitty and Katie rummaged in the drawers for some old,

long-sleeved gingham aprons that had been discarded long ago. They had

decided to go as rag dolls, as that would be the most complete disguise

they could think of. Even their hair would be covered, and they would

not need to speak.

"It will be terribly hot with all that cotton stuffed about our heads

and necks," said Katie. "But we'll look _so_ funny. And we must hold

ourselves limp and lean up against things or flop over, just as real rag

dolls do."

"Here are the aprons," cried Kitty, at last. "See? They'll fit up close

around the neck and hide the place where the muslin that covers our head

is tied on."

"I'll paint the faces on you the last thing before we start," said

Allison.

"Mercy me! Allison!" exclaimed Katie. "We can't walk down past the depot

and the store rigged up that way, even if it is dark. Somebody might

think we were escaped freaks, and chase us. We ought to wait till we get

to the seminary before we dress."

"No, there won't be time then, and everybody will know it's only a

Hallowe'en frolic. If Kitty wears her golf-cape and you wear mine, and

pull the hoods away over your faces, nobody will notice. I'll not dress

till afterward, for I'm not going to appear till the middle of the

evening. I'm not going to go up to the gymnasium at all, but just glide

around on the outskirts and lay a cold finger on some one now and then.

I'll get a lump of ice out of the cooler if I can manage to slip into

the dining-room. Now if you'll bring me the scissors I'll cut the muslin

and fit it over your heads."

Mrs. Walton, sorry that her absence would deprive the girls of their

anticipated Hallowe'en party, compensated for their disappointment as

far as possible by ordering an unusually delicious little supper for

them and their guest.

"Isn't it too tantalizing!" exclaimed Kitty, when Barbry had left the

room for some hot biscuits. "Here's everything I like best, and I'm in

such a hurry and so excited that I can hardly choke down a mouthful."

"Don't talk, then," commanded Allison. "Just _eat_!"

The meal proceeded in silence for a few moments, but the silence itself

grew funny as they thought of the ludicrous figures they would soon

present, and they began to giggle.

The giggles grew into shrieks of laughter a little later, when they had

gone up-stairs, and the two rag dolls, all stuffed, painted, and

dressed, leaned limply against the wall and leered at each other. Even

their hands looked comical, covered in white woollen gloves, each finger

held stiffly out from the other. After one glance Allison rolled on the

bed, holding her sides, laughing and gasping in turn.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, finally, sitting up and wiping her

eyes and then going off into a fresh paroxysm of laughter as she looked

at them again. "I never saw anything so funny in my life. The girls will

simply shriek when they see you."

Norah and Barbry, sitting over their own supper, heard the laughing far

down in the kitchen. They looked at each other and smiled, and then, as

the contagious sound continued, laughed themselves. The merriment was

irresistible. But a little later, busy with their preparations for their

coming friends, they did not notice that the house grew strangely still,

and that not another sound came from the rooms above all that evening.

Kitty's room adjoined Allison's. Bolting the door which opened into her

mother's, on the inside, she passed through Allison's with Katie, and

out into the hall. Then Allison locked her door on the outside and hid

the key under the hall rug. Creeping down the stairs, they stole out at

the side door, locked it after them, and hid the key inside a large

flower-pot on the porch.

"That's safer than carrying it," said Allison. "We'd be sure to lose it,

and then we would be in a pretty pickle."

The moon, overcast by shifting clouds, was just beginning to throw a

faint, ghostly glimmer over the Valley as the girls hurried out.

"Let's go back way until we are past grandmother's gate," said Kitty.

Edgewood, Mrs. MacIntyre's place, was just across from The Beeches, and

some one was strolling up the avenue toward it. "Uncle Harry," whispered

Allison, crouching down in the shadow of a tree until he had gone in.

Rustling along in the dry leaves, they passed the rear of the cottage

next door, the manse, and the little stone church. That brought them out

into the wide, open space below the ridge, where the lights gleamed from

every window in the Soldiers' Home. The girls drew their hoods closer

over their faces as they hurried across the churchyard, out through the

iron gate into the road.

"It makes me think of the night we had a Hallowe'en party at the haunted

house of Hartwell Hollow," said Katie, looking up at the bare branches

overhead, which were beginning to toss in the rising wind. Then she

clapped a white-gloved hand over her rag mouth to choke back a giggle.

Kitty had begun holding her arms in the aimless fashion peculiar to rag

dolls, and was walking along as if she had no bones.

"For goodness' sake, behave yourself," begged Allison. "Don't get us to

laughing out here on the road!"

Kitty straightened up as they passed the deserted post-office, and they

quickened their pace until they were safely beyond the store and the

depot. A moment later they had passed through the woodland gate of

Clovercroft, raced along the path below the ice-house, and were

squeezing through the gap in the picket fence to the seminary grounds.

"They must be almost through supper," whispered Katie, peeping in at one

of the dining-room windows, over which the blind had not been entirely

drawn. "With all that laughing and talking they'll never hear us go up

the stairs. We can make as much noise as we please."

A dim light burned in the upper hall, but no lamp was lighted in Betty

and Lloyd's room.

"Let's not make any," suggested Allison. "They'll think we haven't

come. Let's hide and see what they do when they suddenly discover us."

As she spoke there was a sound of many feet in the lower hall, then on

the stairs, and an unusual buzz of voices. The girls were scattering to

their rooms to dress for the masquerade.

"Hurry!" gasped Allison, stooping down behind a tall rocking-chair.

Kitty rolled under one bed and Katie under the other, and there they lay

waiting, trying to stifle the giggles which nearly choked them.

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