THE HIGH SCHOOL DANCE
“OH, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Fayre, doubtfully, when Dolly asked her
about going to the dance with Tod. “You’re not old enough to go to an
evening party with an escort. Why, you’re only fifteen.”
“But this is a school party, Mumsie, and it seems different.”
“I think so, too,” said Trudy. “I went to High School parties with the
boys when I was fifteen,—or sixteen, anyway.”
“But sixteen seems so much older. Why, Dolly’s wearing hair-ribbons
yet.”
“Well,” and Trudy laughed, “they’ll allow hair ribbons at a High School
dance. Why, Mother, it’s part of the course, in a way. It teaches the
boys and girls how to behave in Society—”
“Dolly can learn that at home.”
“Not unless she has lots of parties and dances, I mean party manners.”
“Well, I’m willing she should go, but I don’t like her going with Tod
Brown.”
“Why, he’s an awfully nice boy. The Browns are among the best people of
Berwick.”
“I know that, Trudy,—Tod’s all right. But I think your father ought to
take Dolly and go after her.”
“Oh, Mother, they don’t do that nowadays. But Dolly can go in our car,
and stop for Tod, that would be all right. And Thomas could go and bring
them home.”
“That seems to me a very queer way to do. But we’ll see what your father
says about it.”
Mr. Fayre, appealed to, was helpless.
“Why, bless my soul, Edith,” he said to his wife, “I don’t know about
such things. When I was a boy, we went home with the girls, of course.
But nowadays I suppose the ways are different. You women folks ought to
be able to settle that question.”
“They are, Daddy,” said Dolly, sidling up to him, and patting his hand.
“But I’d just as lieve you’d take me, if you want the bother of it.”
“I don’t mind the bother, Chickadee, if it’s necessary. But when you
_do_ get old enough to let the Brownies take you to parties, I shan’t be
sorry!”
“Well, now, I’ll settle the matter,” said Mrs. Fayre, smiling at her
younger daughter. “This time, let Daddy take you, and the next time
we’ll see about it. You _are_ growing up, I suppose, and, too, one has
to do as other people do. But this first dance, I’d rather you went with
father.”
“All right, Mumsie, I’m willing. I don’t s’pose it’ll be much of a party
anyhow. Just the school girls and boys, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Trudy. “When I went to High, dances were pretty
nice affairs. What shall she wear?”
“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Fayre. “I’ll have to ask the mothers of
some of the other girls how much they dress. A white frock, I should
think, with some flowers or ribbons.”
Dolly was satisfied with the outcome of the discussion, but quite
another scene was being enacted next door.
“I’m going to the High School Dance with Tad Brown,” Dotty announced at
the dinner table.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” returned her mother. “A child of your
age going out in the evening with a boy escort! Ridiculous!”
“But I _am_,” went on Dotty, decidedly. “Dolly’s going with Tod, and I’m
going with Tad.”
“Did Dolly’s mother say she might?”
“I dunno. But we’re going. And I want a new red chiffon to wear.”
“Red chiffon! You’d look fine in red chiffon at your age! Now, be
sensible, Dotty, if you go to that dance, you must let your father take
you, and you must wear one of your white summer dresses.”
“But, Mother, all the girls are going to have new dresses. Celia Ferris
is going to have a white satin—”
“A white satin! for a High School girl! How absurd!”
“Well, I don’t want white satin, but I _do_ want a new dress. Can’t I
have it, Father?”
“Now, now, Dotty, don’t tease.”
“But, Father, can’t I?”
“Why, _I_ should think you might. You’re a nice little girl. But, of
course, it must be as mother says.”
“Say, yes, Mother, do say yes. Won’t you, Mother? _Won’t_ you? Aunt
Clara, you _beg_ her to, won’t you? _Won’t_ you, Aunt Clara?”
“Good gracious, child, stop teasing,” and Mr. Rose glowered at Dotty so
very fiercely, that she knew he was not in earnest.
“Stop teasing, Dotty,” said Genie, her little sister. “You know very
well that teasing won’t get what you want.”
Genie looked so comical, as she shook her fat little forefinger at
Dotty, that they all laughed.
“Cry, that’s the bestest way,” Genie went on. “If you cry hard enough,
you’re sure to get it.”
“That’s all right for little kiddies like you, Gene, but big girls don’t
cry. They just say what they want, and then if their parents are nice,
loving, affectionate, good-hearted people, I should think they would get
their wishes.”
“Well put, Dottikins,” cried her father. “I guess, Mother, the little
girl will have to have her new furbelows. Of course, you’ll get
something suitable. Say, a nice blue gingham.”
Dotty smiled absently at this mild jest, and went on, her first point
gained, to her second.
“And I want to go with Tad. I don’t want to go with father, like a baby.
All the girls are going with the boys. Celia Ferris is going with Lollie
Henry—”
“That question must wait, Dorothy,” and when Mrs. Rose used that name,
Dotty knew she was very much in earnest. “I’m comparatively new in
Berwick, and I must find out what the other mothers think about it
before I decide. Now, stop teasing; after I confer with some of the
ladies I’ll decide. I don’t think much of Celia Ferris as a model. And
I’m by no means sure Dolly’s mother will let her go with Tod. So you
must wait and see.”
Dotty knew from her mother’s manner there was no use teasing any more,
so she turned her attention back to her frock.
“Well, if it can’t be red chiffon, Mother, can’t it be red organdie?”
“We’ll see about it. If you’re so bent on a red dress, perhaps we can
hunt one up.” Mrs. Fayre smiled at her impetuous daughter, and Dotty
felt sure she had secured a red gown, at least.
The two neighbouring mothers talked matters over, and it was finally
decided that the girls should not be allowed to go to the party with the
boys this time, but perhaps they might later in the season. For the
dances were occasional, and sometimes there were three or four during
the winter. It was arranged that Mr. Fayre should take the two D’s and
that Mr. Rose should go to bring them home, after the dance was over.
But new dresses were allowed, and Dotty’s of red organdie, and Dolly’s
of white organdie and blue ribbons, were both pretty and appropriate.
They had new party cloaks, too, the first they had ever owned, and it
made them feel exceedingly grown-up to have them flung round their
shoulders. Dolly’s was of light blue cashmere, edged with swansdown, and
Dotty’s was of scarlet cloth, bordered with a quilling of black satin.
Hats were out of the question, and Mrs. Fayre presented each of the
girls with a little lace scarf to wear on her head.
Very pretty they looked, as, all equipped at last, they got into the
Fayre car, and rolled away. Mr. Fayre gave them alternately, compliments
on their appearance and advice as to how to behave.
“Why, Dads,” said Dolly, laughing, “any one would think we had never
been out before.”
“Well, you haven’t; that is, to a real evening party.”
“No, but we went to a dance down at Surfwood, it can’t be so very
different.”
“No, I suppose not,” rejoined Mr. Fayre, and then they were at the
School.
The dance was held in the big Assembly Room, and the Committee had
decorated it with flowers and palms, so that it had a gala air indeed.
The girls went to the cloak room, and as they emerged, the Brown twins
met them. Such dressy Brown twins! And indeed, everybody looked
different from the schoolmates they were.
“Hello,” said Tad; “come on, you’re late. The girls are getting their
cards all filled up. Here are yours.”
The two D’s took their Dance Programmes a little shyly. They had never
had them before, for this was their first real Dance Party.
“S’pose nobody asks me to dance!” said Dotty, in a sudden fit of
shyness.
“Oh, nonsense!” cried Dolly, “everybody’ll ask you.”
“You should worry!” exclaimed Tad, looking at his pretty partner with an
appreciative eye. “Here, give me both your cards. I want a lot of dances
that I can manage. I’m not much on the fancy steps.”
He took the cards and began scribbling his initials.
“Stop!” said Dotty, laughing; “you’re taking too many, Tad.”
“Oh, ho! and you were so ’fraid nobody’d ask you! You’re a sly-boots.”
“Well, I want a few left, if anybody _should_ ask,” and even as she
spoke, several of the boys came clustering round her and Dolly, and very
soon their cards were well filled.
Then the fun began. The two D’s were both good dancers, and as nearly
all the young people went to the Berwick Dancing School, they had plenty
of good partners. After each dance they walked about the room or sat and
chatted.
To Dolly’s surprise there were a great many strangers present. For,
contrary to the ideas of the elder Fayres and Roses, nearly all the
girls did come with boy escorts, and as many girls were not invited by
the schoolboys, they asked friends from out of town. There were also
girl guests from neighbouring cities, and altogether, the affair was
quite large.
Celia Ferris had her white satin, but it was veiled with soft white
tulle, and made a very pretty, girlish dance-frock.
Celia was chummy with the two D’s, but she had begun to feel a little
jealous of them, for they were exceedingly popular, and received a great
deal of attention. However, she was pleasant-mannered, and spoke
cordially with them whenever they met.
After a time Dolly noticed a girl, who seemed to be a wall-flower. She
was a nice-looking and well-dressed girl, but she danced very seldom,
and most of the time sat discontentedly looking at the others.
There were some other wall-flowers, as is always the case, but none were
so frequently left partnerless as this particular girl.
“Who is she?” asked Dolly of Lollie Henry, with whom she happened to be
dancing.
“Oh, that’s Bernice Forbes. She’s a muff.”
“Don’t be rude, Lollie. What do you mean,—a muff?”
“Nothing, only she hasn’t any _go_ to her,—any life, any vim, you
know.”
“But she might, if she were asked to dance oftener. Have you asked her?”
“Not much! I don’t dance with B. Forbes, when I can get anybody else.”
“That isn’t very nice of you,” and Dolly looked reproachfully at her
partner. “Won’t you ask her once, just to please me?”
“I’d do a lot to please you, sister, but B. F. is a little too much.
Hello, they’re going to supper. Who’d you come with? Tad or Tod?”
“I’m supposed to have come with Tod. But really my father brought me.”
“I know. It’s all the same. The Brownies picked you up after you got
there,—you and Dot. And here comes Tod after you, I must fly to seek my
own special.”
Lollie went off, and Tod escorted Dolly to the supper room. The feast
was not grand, as High School affairs are limited, but everybody enjoyed
it. The D’s and the Browns found a place in a pleasant alcove, and were
joined by Celia Ferris and the Rawlins girls and a lot more of their
particular friends.
Dolly noticed Bernice Forbes, sitting apart from the rest. With her was
a boy Dolly did not know.
“Who is he?” she whispered to Joe Collins.
“Dunno. Some chap the Forbes girl brought. Of course no Berwick boy
would ask her.”
“Why not?”
“Stick. Can’t say boo to a goose!”
“Is that the reason the Berwick boys don’t want to talk to her?” asked
Dolly mischievously, and Joe laughed.
“Honest, Dolly, she’s fearful. Just a lump, you know. But don’t you know
her?”
“Never did till I went to High. She was at another Grammar School from
the one I went to. She dresses well.”
“She ought to. Her father is the richest man in Berwick.”
“Oh, is she the daughter of Mr. Forbes, the railroad man?”
“She sure is. Now do you know her better?”
“I should say so! Why, my father is in one of the offices of Mr. Forbes’
company.”
“That so? Well, steer clear of the fair Bernice, believe me!”
And then the sandwiches and ice cream and cakes arrived, and the healthy
young appetites did full justice to them.
“Tell us all about your new house, Dotty,” somebody was saying.
“’Tisn’t mine any more than Dolly Fayre’s. It belongs to us jointly and
severally, as my father says.”
“When will it be finished?”
“In a couple of weeks now, I guess. We’re going to have a Hallowe’en
party to open it. I hope you’ll all come.”
“Is this the invitation?” said Clayton Rawlins; “if so, I accept.”
“Oh, no, this isn’t the regular invitation. That will come later.”
“You can’t have a very big party,” said Celia. “The house won’t hold
very many.”
“It’s going to be a mixed-around party,” explained Dolly. “Some of it
will be in our two own houses and some in Treasure House.”
“Is that what you call it? How pretty,” and Grace Rawlins smiled at
Dolly.
“Yes, Treasure House, because it’s our treasure and because we’re going
to keep our treasures in it. Oh, it’s going to be the greatest fun! You
must all come over and see it. Don’t wait for Hallowe’en. Come any
time.”
After supper there were a few more dances before going home time.
With some interest, Dolly watched the Forbes girl. She danced a few
times with the boy with her and the rest of the time she sat alone.
Reggie Stuart came to Dolly for a dance.
“Say, Reg,” she said, “won’t you let me off of this, and go and dance it
with Bernice Forbes?”
“_Will_ I! Not! What’s the matter, don’t you want to dance with me?”
“Yes, of course. It isn’t that, but—but she looks lonely.”
“Good work! She ought to look lonely. It’s her own fault, Dolly.”
“Her own fault, how?”
“Oh, she doesn’t try to be gay and perky and smiley and
laughy,—like,—well, like you are. But if you don’t want me for a
partner—”
“Oh, ridiculous, Reg! Of course I do. Come on.”
They danced away, and for that night at least, Dolly gave up trying to
get the boys to dance with Bernice. Reginald was not the first one she
had asked, nor the second; but one and all they had refused.