FAIRIES AND SUCH
DOLLY did think over the question of Bernice Forbes and the party. And
the result of her cogitation led her straight to Grace’s house.
“I’ve come,” she said, “to ask a favour, Grace. I want to know if you
won’t ask Bernice Forbes to your Hallowe’en party.”
“Why, Dolly, I would,—only,—well, you see the number is all made up.”
“What number?”
“The number I planned to invite. Twelve, it is.”
“But couldn’t you add two more? Bernice, and another boy to make it
even?”
“I suppose I could, but,—you know, Dolly, nobody likes Bernice.
She’s—”
“Oh, don’t tell me what she is! I know it! But, Grace, I think it’s
mean, the way we girls treat her. Now, never mind _what_ she is, won’t
you ask her, just for my sake?”
Dolly’s smile was very winning and her blue eyes very pleading and Grace
was about to consent, when Ethel came in. They told her the subject
under discussion.
“Not much!” declared Ethel. “If that thing goes, _I_ don’t!”
“All right,” Dolly blazed back, “if she _doesn’t_ go, _I_ don’t!”
Probably neither girl meant what she said, but having said it, they both
stuck to it. So spirited the argument became, that Mrs. Rawlins
overheard the angry voices and came into the room.
“What _is_ the matter, girlies? Why, Dolly Fayre, what are you crying
about?”
“I’m not crying, Mrs. Rawlins,” and Dolly brushed a tear or two off her
cheeks, “b-but I’m afraid,—maybe I m-might. I guess I’ll go home now.”
“Not till you tell me the trouble, dear,” and Mrs. Rawlins sat down
beside the disturbed guest. “What is it, Grace?”
“It’s my fault, Mrs. Rawlins,” Dolly spoke up. “I was trying to make the
girls do something they don’t want to. And I had no business to do it.”
Dolly was always just, even against herself.
“But what is it? Tell me, Ethel.”
“Why, Mother, Dolly wants to ask Bernice Forbes to our party, and we
don’t want to, ’cause she’d spoil the whole thing.”
“Why?” and Mrs. Rawlins smiled. “Is Bernice such a spoilsport as all
that?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Do you think so, Dolly?”
“Well, you see, Mrs. Rawlins, she _isn’t_ awfully nice, but I’m sorry
for her; and I thought if we invited her to things, and made her like
us, she’d be nicer, and we’d like her.”
“Is this the only reason, Dolly?” and Mrs. Rawlins looked quizzically at
her.
Immediately it came into Dolly’s mind how Dotty had said everybody would
attribute Dolly’s interest in Bernice to the fact that she was the
daughter of the richest man in town, and really an heiress in her own
right. Dolly blushed uncomfortably, but she looked straight at her
questioner, and replied, “Yes, Mrs. Rawlins, it’s only because I’m sorry
for Bernice, and,” she hesitated, and then added, honestly, “and a
_little_, because everybody is so down on her, and I don’t think it’s
fair!”
“I don’t either!” declared the lady, heartily; “you’re just right,
Dolly. And Bernice shall be invited.”
“But Ethel says she won’t go, then,” began Grace, as Ethel herself spoke
up, “Oh, of course I will, if mother says we must ask Bernice. I don’t
care such a terrible lot, anyway, and I’m sorry I was snappy to you,
Dolly.”
“I’m sorry I was snappy, too,” and Dolly’s pretty face showed real
contrition. “Are you sure you won’t mind too much, girls?”
“Of course they won’t,” Mrs. Rawlins answered for them. She was a
pretty, smiling little lady, and as a rule everybody who was with her
liked to do as she said. “Now that is settled, Bernice shall be asked.
Mustn’t we then ask one more boy?”
“Yes, Mother, and let’s ask Clayton to get some one. He knows a lot of
boys, and he’ll know just which one to ask.”
“Good idea, Gracie. Is your dress ready, Dolly? What are you going to
wear?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that before the girls! You know it’s a
masquerade.”
“Oh, yes, so it is. Well, set your mind at rest, dear. I’ll ask Bernice
myself, and I’ll tell her about the masquerade. Don’t let any one know
she’s coming, and then they’ll never suspect who she is, until you take
off your masks.”
“Oh, what a lovely idea, Mrs. Rawlins,” and Dolly’s eyes shone with
pleasure. “Don’t tell, will you, girls?”
“No,” said Grace, “but everybody will know, when they see seven girls,
who the other is.”
“They won’t know for sure, and anyway, the boys won’t know. You needn’t
even tell Clayton.”
So the matter was settled, and Dolly went off home happy at having
gained her point.
At last the night of the party arrived. The girls had planned not to let
each other know what they would wear, and see if they could guess
identities. Dolly and Dotty had no idea of each other’s costume, and
even Grace and Ethel Rawlins were in equal ignorance of theirs.
The girls were to meet at the Rawlins house and the boys at the Browns’
and go out to Uncle Jim’s separately, in motor cars provided by the
several families.
Mrs. Rawlins would act as hostess, and Mr. Rawlins was a general
manager, who seemed to look after everything at once.
At the hour of meeting, Dolly found herself to be the first one to
arrive. She had come from home by a roundabout way, and her father, who
accompanied her to the corner, stepped aside and let her go up the steps
alone, so that no one might suspect it was she. Dolly was attired as a
Ghost. Her dress was lovely, being made of many layers of white
tarlatan, one over the other, with long angel sleeves, and fluttering
draperies, that wafted about as she walked.
A scarf of the same material enveloped her head and neck, and trailed
its long ends behind her. She wore white silk gloves, but her hands were
hidden in the swirl of the misty material. She was a veritable ghost,
and deep in the shadows of her swathing headgear, her face was concealed
by a little white satin mask. Of course her hair was completely hidden,
and she moved with slow, sinuous movements, waving her draped arms in
true spectre fashion.
“Come in, Ghost,” said Mrs. Rawlins, as Dolly stepped into the reception
room. “Well, you are a spirit, indeed! I never saw a real live ghost
before!”
Dolly swept long, ghostly curtseys, but said no word.
Grace Rawlins came next. She had gone out and around several blocks so
that she might enter her own house as a visitor. Grace was a Fairy. Her
dress was full and frilly, of pale pink crêpe paper, and she had pink
and gilt wings, and a long wand. Her hair, which might have been
recognisable, was hidden in a dainty pink silk cap, with a long gilt
feather, and a full ruche of frilled paper hid her neck and chin. A pink
mask covered her face, and she wore long pink silk gloves.
Dolly stared hard at her, but could not be sure who it was. She thought
the Fairy looked a little like Maisie May, but never suspected Grace.
Maisie came next, though nobody knew it. She was a Brownie. She had
borrowed a suit from a cousin out of town. The costume had been made for
a city party and was an exact Brownie rig. Of course it completely
disguised Maisie, and the goggle-eyed mask was weird and quite
appropriate to the occasion.
Then Bernice came. She represented an Elf. Her costume was made entirely
of overlapping green leaves, and a head-dress of the same. Green
stockings and slippers, green gloves and a green mask made her entirely
unrecognisable. Dolly thought it was Dotty, as the two were much the
same height. Bernice moved about shyly, and sank into the first chair
she came to, and then Dolly felt sure it was Dotty, trying to disguise
her own brisk manner.
When Dotty did come, Dolly had no idea who it was. Her costume was that
of a witch. Long red cloak and high peaked cap, from which hung
straggling grey locks. A red and black gown, red stockings and black
slippers, and a mask like that of a little old lady with a hooked nose
and apple-cheeks. She carried a broom, gilded and tied with red ribbons.
It was a most picturesque garb, and Dolly decided it must be Bernice.
But no one spoke to another. Occasionally one would nod knowingly, as if
to say she recognised some one, or point a finger at her. But the other
always shook her head vigorously, as if the guess were wrong.
It was imperative that each should represent some idea connected with
the occasion, so Celia Ferris came as Autumn. She wore yellow and brown
with touches of red, and she carried a basket of fruit. Her head-dress
was made of Autumn leaves, and she wore long necklaces of cranberries
strung on a thread.
Last to arrive was Ethel Rawlins. She had delayed late, thinking that
then no one would suspect her identity.
She was The Nut Brown Maid. All her robe was of brown, and it had
fringes of nuts at the ends of bits of ribbon. Her head-dress was
trimmed with chestnut burs, and she had necklace and armlets of strung
nuts.
Now the girls were all present, and though they guessed, none knew
positively who any other was. Those who knew Bernice’s invitation had
not told, and those who did not know it, wondered greatly who the
seventh girl could be, though some surmised correctly.
Mrs. Rawlins laughingly collected her weird-looking charges and packed
them into two big motor cars, and they set off for Uncle Jim’s,—for, at
his request, all the girls called him by that familiar title,—and as
the cars were swift ones, the party soon reached the country house.
Not a word was spoken on the way, for the girls found they were well
disguised, and they determined to keep up the mystery. But there was
much giggling and many expressive exclamations in deep guttural tones.
Reaching their destination, a wonderful scene awaited them. Uncle Jim
had begged Mrs. Rawlins to do anything she could to make the house
attractive and appropriate for the occasion. So, with the help of the
willing servants, she had transformed the great hall and the big, old
parlour into a veritable Hallowe’en Revel. Branches of bright Autumn
leaves decked the walls. Red and yellow cheesecloth made gay draperies,
and streamers of red and yellow crêpe paper fluttered here and there.
Hollowed-out pumpkins held masses of little late chrysanthemums, and
sheaves of grain stood in corners.
There were jack-o’-lanterns, too, made of yellow or of green pumpkins,
and also of crook-neck squashes, whose candles within lit up their
strange grotesque faces.
The boys had already arrived, and round the room stood seven silent
figures. They were dressed as Robin Hood, Peter Pan, or merely as spooks
and goblins. Apparently the boys had been quite willing to “dress up,”
and their costumes were as picturesque as the girls’.
Uncle Jim greeted the incoming crowd.
“Wal, wal, what a visitation! My, but ye’re a lot of perty spooks! Look
at this white ghost now!” as Dolly swept him a long, low bow. “Ain’t she
the beauty? I ain’t afeard of ghostes like that, now, you bet I ain’t!
And see the Fairy! My stars! Ye’re all so fine, I dunno which way to
look first!”
Then the boys advanced and greeted the girls with bows, peering closely
for some identifying sign, and getting laughed at for their pains.
“Now, here’s yer welcome,” said Uncle Jim. “This is a writ welcome, fer
the reason that I ain’t much on expressin’ my thoughts. But I’m right
down glad to see ye all!”
Then each received a pretty printed card, decorated with designs of
black cats and owls and witches on broomsticks. It read:
Spooks and Spirits we invite
To our party Witches’ night.
And the black cat yowls,
And howls and growls!
And the gray owl hoots,
And To-whits, To-whoots!
And the moon is yellow and big and round
As the pumpkins lying on the ground.
So join our ranks, and come along
To Uncle Jim’s where the witches throng!
This was read with nods of delight and the cards laid away to take home
as souvenirs.
Robin Hood stood near Dolly as she finished reading hers, and he
politely offered her a pencil to write her name on it for safe-keeping.
Then he eagerly leaned over to see what name she wrote.
“O-o-o-o-h!” groaned Dolly in sepulchral tones, and then she wrote
_Ghost_ on her card. But she printed it in straggling letters, for she
was too canny to show her own penmanship.
Many were the traps laid to learn who was who, but the secrets were, for
the most part, well kept.
Lollie Henry was discovered by his familiar laugh and his inability to
suppress it.
Maisie May was known, when a lock of her auburn hair escaped from the
queer Brownie head-covering. Then, of course, these two being known,
they tried to make the others speak.
“Tell me who you are,” Lollie wheedled of the Elf, Bernice. The only
answer was a vigorous shake of the green-leaved head.
“Ah, you needn’t tell, I know!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “You’re Dotty
Rose! I know by the toss of your head. Aren’t you, now?”
The Elf nodded Yes with such insistence, that Lollie felt sure his guess
was wrong.
Dotty as a witch, was in her element. She darted about, tweaking
people’s ears, or tapping their arms with her broomstick. She had a
funny little cackling laugh, that was so unlike her own voice, it was
not recognised, though Dolly soon suspected her.
She hovered about Uncle Jim, teasing him until the old man shook with
laughter. “My! what a witch it is!” he exclaimed. “Right from old Salem
Town, I’ll be bound!”
They played all the regulation Hallowe’en games. “Thread the Needle,”
“Blow the Candle,” and all the well-known ones.
Then Mrs. Rawlins brought in a plate, which she set on the table.
“This,” said she, “is a test to see who of you will be married this
year. Now, who will try first?”
The girls hung back, and the boys urged them forward. At last, the Fairy
flitted up to make the first test.
On the plate was a mound of flour, tightly pressed into shape. Mrs.
Rawlins explained the test. “You see,” she said, “the rule is, to fill a
bowl with flour, and drop a ring into it. Then press the flour down so
tightly, that it will keep its shape when turned out on a plate. Each of
you must cut out a slice, and any one who finds the ring will be married
this year.”
“Sure?” asked Lollie Henry, laughing.
“Yes, sure,” asserted Mrs. Rawlins, gravely. “Come, Fairy, after I read
the charm, cut your slice. Cut it like a pie, and wherever you choose.”
Then Mrs. Rawlins read the charm:
“Little ring within the flour,
Waiting for this witching hour,
Tell me where it is you hide—
On _this_ side or on _this_ side.
Now, with care the knife I bring—
Do I get you, Little ring?
Now I cut! Just at this spot!
_Do_ I get you, Ring—or _not_?”
The Fairy cut the slice, and all crowded round to learn the result.
“You do _not_!” exclaimed Lollie, as there was no ring seen in the
Fairy’s slice.
One after another, they each cut a slice, and even to the very last one,
no one secured the ring.
“Not strange,” said Mrs. Rawlins, calmly, as she took away the plate,
“there wasn’t any ring in it! Of course none of you children will be
married this year or for many years yet.”
Then a great laugh went up at the way they had been hoaxed, and Lollie
said, comically, “Just my luck! I thought I might get a rich wife, who
would promise to wait for me till I’m of age!”