THE CARNIVAL QUEEN
“FATHER,” said Bernice Forbes as the two sat at dinner that night, “are
you a popular man?”
“Bless my soul, Bernie! What do you mean?”
“Just that, Dad. Are you popular among your friends and business
associates?”
“Well, that’s a leading question, my girl; and I’m not sure I want to
answer it. For, to tell the truth, Daughter, I’m not so very
popular,—as popularity goes.”
“Why aren’t you?” and Bernice looked serious.
“Why are you asking?”
“For a good reason, Daddy. Please tell me.”
“Well, then, Bernie, I’m not popular because I’m not willing to forget
myself. To be honest, I’m a man of decided opinions,—among others, a
pretty good opinion of myself,—and that sort of a nature doesn’t
command admiration from the crowd.”
“Don’t you care, Father?”
“Not much. I feel sometimes as if I’d like to be more chummy with my men
friends; then I’m apt to say something to provoke them, and they rather
evade me.”
“Dad, that’s just my case. But I _do_ want to be popular. In school I
mean,—and with the boys and girls. I’ve never been a favourite.”
“No? Well, you can be, easily enough, if you choose.”
“How?”
“Simply by being agreeable always. And by agreeable, I don’t mean
plausibly polite, I mean actually to _agree_ with people. With what they
say and what they do.”
“Whether I mean it, or not!”
“Pshaw! I don’t want you to tell falsehoods, of course. But if some one
says, ‘I just adore sunflowers, don’t you?’ and you hate them, you
needn’t say, ‘No, I detest the horrid things!’ but you can say, ‘They’re
such a brilliant yellow,’ or ‘They do grow very tall,’ or something
generally acquiescent, instead of flatly disagreeing. Do you see?”
“Some. And if anybody raves over a girl that I dislike, I suppose I can
keep my mouth shut.”
“More than that. You can surely find something nice to say about the
girl, even if you dislike other traits she has.”
“Yes, I s’pose I could. And if the girls do things that I can’t abide, I
’spect I can at least refrain from criticism.”
“But that isn’t enough, Bernie. You must seem to _like_ them, unless, of
course, it’s something really wrong. But if it’s only a habit or a
mannerism or a fashion, smile at it, and agree, even if your own private
opinion is just the opposite. This is simple tact,—and will win
popularity for you sooner than anything else.”
“There’s something in what you say, Father. I’ve always held out for my
own opinions and tastes in the most unimportant matters, and I see now,
that’s one reason why they call me ‘stuck-up’ and ‘proudy.’”
Mr. Forbes smiled. “I remember from my own schooldays, those are the
most awful faults a child can have. I advise you, Honey, to quit such an
attitude, and acquire the habit of agreeing. If Maisie May likes blue
hair-ribbons and you like pink, say the blue are pretty. That can’t hurt
your conscience, for they _are_ pretty. And it will make Maisie feel far
more friendly, than if you deride the blue.”
“Of course, Dad, your hair-ribbon example is a silly one, but it does
express the idea. I’ve been too dictatorial, and self-sufficient. Now,
I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I’m going to agree with everybody—”
“In trifles, Bernie. Don’t go so far as to misrepresent yourself in any
matter of importance or any question of right or wrong. If any one tells
you it’s a fine day you needn’t say _you_ think it raw and disagreeable.
But if any one says it’s a fine day, and it’s pouring buckets,—then say
it’s raining and stick to it.”
“I see, Dad,” and Bernice laughed. “I’ve got sense enough to understand
what you mean. And I’m going to profit by it. Is this the sort of thing
you don’t do?”
“I’m afraid it is, girlie. I have a naturally contrary disposition, and
if any one says anything, it’s my first impulse to contradict him. I’ve
tried to correct this, but I’m too old a dog to learn new tricks. But
you’re young, and you ought to mend your ways, where mending is needed.
Myself,—I think you’re perfect, just as you are,” and Mr. Forbes smiled
fondly at his pretty daughter.
“Dear old Dad! But I might be a better girl if you taught me more about
behaviour and such things, than if you just approve of me.”
“Can’t do it, Honey. To me you’re a piece of perfection,—the apple of
my eye. And all I ask is that you shall be happy and have everything you
want. Is there anything I can give you, Dearie, that you don’t possess?”
“No, you dear old Father. But some day, soon, perhaps, I may ask a
favour of you, a strange one, too.”
“All right, it’s granted in advance. To the half of my kingdom,—and
then, the other half!”
Bernice was right. It would have been far better if Mr. Forbes had
exercised a kind supervision over his daughter and her ways, instead of
giving her this unquestioning approbation. But such was his nature, and
the motherless girl suffered in consequence.
However, Bernice took to heart her father’s talk about being agreeable,
and began at once to put it in practice. She was astonished to find how
easy it was. Often she stifled an impulse to contradict, and discovered
that she could honestly agree just as well.
But it was slow work. Nobody seemed ready to meet her half-way. Even the
Two D’s had become disheartened, for the girls and boys tired of showing
Bernice attention just because Dolly and Dotty asked them to.
And about a week before the Christmas holidays, Mr. Fayre told his
family that they might as well begin to pack up.
“Nothing more will be said until after January first,” he remarked, “but
there seems no hope of a change of plans. You know what Forbes is. I’d
rather not speak to him on the subject, and get snubbed for my pains.”
“But you might just ask him, Father,” said Trudy. “I hate to resign from
my club and give up my place on the Concert Committee, unless we’re
surely going away.”
“You may as well give them up, Trudy,” answered her father, “for we’re
sure to go.”
“When?” asked Dolly, with a quivering lip.
“About the middle of January, dear. I’m very sorry for you, Dolly,
girlie, but you can have Dotty to visit you a lot, and you can visit
her.”
“And Treasure House?” said Dolly, in a broken voice.
“That we’ll turn over to Dotty. We can’t very well take it with us.”
“Oh, Daddy, it will _kill_ me!” and Dolly flung herself into her
father’s arms in a paroxysm of weeping.
“There, there, dear little girl, it _is_ terribly hard, I know. But try
to bear it, my darling little daughter. I’ll do anything I can for you,
to make up. Perhaps you can have another Treasure House in Buffalo. But
not unless we’re fairly sure of staying there permanently.”
“Oh, I don’t _want_ another Treasure House! Nor another Dotty! I just
want _this_ House and _this_ Dotty! Oh, I can’t _stand_ it!”
It was a long time before they could quiet the nervous and heartbroken
child. At last, quite worn out, she went to bed, but not to sleep. She
lay there, “thinking it out.”
“I must manage it somehow,” she kept saying to herself. “There’s
Bernice, she could keep us here by a single word to her father, and she
won’t do it. I’ve done all I possibly can to make her popular, what more
could I do? It seems so silly to have my whole life’s happiness hang on
the word of that girl! But if it does hang there, why _can’t_ I pick it
off? Why, oh, _why_?”
Tossing and tumbling in her little white bed, Dolly put in an awful
night. At last one little forlorn hope came to her.
“If I can do that,” she thought, seeing a tiny ray of hope, “Bernice
will surely agree that I have kept my part of the bargain.”
She thought and thought. She planned and planned.
At last, though it was two o’clock in the morning, she jumped out of bed
and throwing on her dressing-gown, sat at her desk and wrote a long
letter to Bert and another to Bob Rose.
Then she went back to bed, and after a short time sleep came to ease the
poor little worried mind.
The days flew by. The cold weather continued, and skating was the
delight of all the young people. Bernice was a fine skater, and close
watch on the part of Dolly and Dotty showed that she had partners for
the skating parties far oftener than she used to.
This favoured Dolly’s new plan, the same being nothing more nor less
than to have Bernice chosen Queen of the Carnival, which on Christmas
Eve was to be the great celebration of the holiday season.
A skating carnival had not been possible for many years, but the
exceptionally cold winter had made it feasible this season, and all the
young people of Berwick were wildly enthusiastic over it.
Tad and Tod Brown were willing this time to consent to the request of
the Two D’s to vote for Bernice as Carnival Queen.
“She’s a bang-up skater,” said Tad; “the best in Berwick, I think. And,
another thing, Bernie is a heap nicer than she used to be. She’s come
down off her high horse, and almost never rubs in her wealth and
grandeur.”
“She _is_ nicer,” agreed Tod. “She doesn’t snap a fellow up, everything
he says, and she smiles more, somehow.”
All this was as balm to Dolly’s soul. She rejoiced to hear the boys
speak thus of Bernice. Then she had cold chills, lest, since Bernice was
winning praise by her own improvement, she might conclude that Dolly had
no hand in it, and therefore had not won her promised reward.
But the two indefatigable workers kept on. They were more wary than they
had been when trying to get Bernice made class President, for in this
instance, many were concerned beside their class in High School. So they
worked quietly, even secretly, but they urged many to vote for Bernice
as Queen of the Carnival, and partly owing to the position and influence
of Mr. Forbes, many expressed themselves as more than willing to
consent.
The hopes of the Two D’s ran high. Dolly’s letters to the two boys had
resulted in their influencing a number of boys in Berwick whom the girls
did not know well enough to speak to about it.
And so, when the question came up before the committee, public spirit
was so much in favour of Bernice that she was chosen Queen by a large
majority.
“Oh!” sighed Dolly in absolute content, when she heard of it. “I _am_ so
glad! Is it really true? Dotty, we’ve won something, anyway! I don’t
know whether Bernie will feel that _I_ did anything to help, but I did!”
“You bet you did!” cried Dotty, “and I’ll see to it that Bernice knows.”
“Be careful,—you know she hates to owe it to my efforts—”
“But that was her bargain.”
“I know, but still, she squirms when she thinks I just plain coax people
to be nice to her.”
“I should think she would! Isn’t it horrid, Doll, to win favour that
way?”
“Of course, it seems so to us; but you know how Bernie is. I suppose,
Dot, if she had a mother like the rest of us have, she’d be different.”
“I s’pose so.”
The night of the carnival came. A perfect night, clear, cold, and
illuminated by a kindly moon, which was somewhat eclipsed by the lights
that surrounded and glorified the little Berwick lake.
The decorations were elaborate, and the committee in charge were justly
proud of their display.
Bob and Bert were home for their holiday, and were eager to know the
result of the campaign.
“Fine,” declared Dolly. “Bernie was chosen by a big majority and she’ll
be a stunning Queen. She’s going to wear white velvet and ermine,—real
ermine! Won’t she be beautiful?”
She was beautiful. The costume, though magnificent, was none too grand
for a carnival queen; and better than that, the face, under the crown of
gold filigree, tipped with white ostrich feathers, was sweet and
smiling, and showed only kindly and merry impulses.
Dolly, as she herself dressed for the carnival, was distinctly nervous
and apprehensive. Bernice had been so busy getting ready for the event
and attending to its details, that Dolly hadn’t seen her alone for
weeks. She couldn’t say exactly that Bernice had avoided her, but they
had not been thrown together, and Dolly had no idea whether Bernice
intended to carry out her part of the contract or not.
She feared _not_; and it was with a heavy heart that she donned her
pretty skating costume.
It was of light blue cloth, banded with silver fox. A cap to match sat
jauntily on the golden curls, and it was a lovely reflection that looked
back at her from her mirror. But Dolly cared little for her own
appearance, so unnerved was she over the uncertainty that still hung
over her.
Meantime Dotty, next door, was also dressing for the carnival. Her
costume was of red broadcloth, with dark fur trimmings. It was of
Russian effect, and suited well the rosy beauty of the girl.
She, too, was thoughtful. At last she exclaimed, “I can’t _stand_ it!”
and throwing aside the cap she was about to don, she flew down to the
library and snatched up the telephone.
“Bernice,” she said, after she got the connection, “I _must_ ask you.
Are you going to ask your father,—you know what?”
“What?” asked Bernice, so full of her own affairs, she really didn’t
think what Dotty had in mind.
“You _do_ know. About—somebody’s staying in Berwick, instead of going
away.”
“Oh, that. Well, I can’t bother about it now. Yes, I’ll do it,—some
time or other. But I don’t know as—somebody—had such a lot to do with
this carnival business—”
“Well, somebody _did_! Now, you just catch on to this! If somebody
_hadn’t_, you wouldn’t be—what you are to-night!”
“Don’t talk so plain—over the telephone! I’ll see you later—”.
“No, you won’t! You’ll settle this here and now, or—you’ll be sorry! I
tell you she did her part and more than her part. You said, yourself, a
bargain’s a bargain. Now you’ve got to keep your word, or—I’ll make you
sorry that she kept hers!”
“What do you mean?”
“Just this. If you don’t do what you promised—right now,—I’ll tell
everybody how you happened to be Queen—”
“Hush! Dotty, don’t talk so plain!”
“Well, will you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Ask your father—you know what.”
“Yes,—I’ll ask him.”
“Right now?”
“No, of course not _now_. To-morrow.”
“No, sir, _now_! You go straight to him, and fix it up, or I’ll do what
I said.”
“Goodness, what an impatient—” and just then it struck Bernice that she
was to agree with people! “All right, Dotsie,” she said with such a
sudden change of intonation that Dotty nearly fell off her chair. “I’ll
go right now. You hang up, and I’ll call you in a few minutes.”
“Honest?”
“Yes, honest and truly.”
Dotty waited. In a short time the telephone hell rang, and Bernice said,
“It’s all right. Dad says he can arrange it as easy as pie. He didn’t
know they wanted to stay here so much. Shall I tell Dolly?”
“No, let me tell her.”
“All right. Rather you would. I’m fearfully busy. Good-bye.”
Bernice was evidently preoccupied with her preparations, but Dotty
didn’t care now. They had won! Mr. Forbes had given his word, and all
was well.
Flinging on her cap, that was part of her costume, Dotty flew over to
Dolly’s like a small but very energetic whirlwind.
Up the stairs she bounded, and into Dolly’s room. She grabbed her round
the neck and kissed her frantically, while she cried, “It’s all right!
We’ve won! Mr. Forbes says you can stay!”
“What!” and Dolly’s blue eyes opened wide in glad surprise.
Bert and Trudy heard the commotion, and came from their rooms.
“Yes,” Dotty whispered, still holding Dolly tight. “It’s all right, I
tell you!”
“What’s all right?” asked Trudy, looking at the two beaming girls.
“Never mind, Trude,” said Bert, catching on. “Leave the kiddies
alone,—they’ve got a secret.”
Bert led Trudy away, and laughingly put her back in her own room.
Then he went to Dolly’s door.
“All right, Dot? Honestly?”
“Yes, _yes_, YES! Oh, isn’t it grand!”
And then Dotty told of her telephone talk with Bernice, and how Mr.
Forbes had willingly agreed to let Mr. Fayre stay in the New York
office, and continue to live in Berwick.
“Hooray!” cried Bert, grabbing off the two girls’ caps and flinging them
to the ceiling. “Hadn’t a cap on, so had to take yours! I say, you two
are bricks! How ever _did_ you do it?”
“Tell you all about it to-morrow,” said Dotty smiling. “We must get off
to the carnival now, if we’re going at all.”
“Hold on,” said Dolly, still a little bewildered with delight. “I must
tell Dad and Mumsie!”
“Of course,” said Dotty, “and Trudy, too.”
The joyful news was spread abroad, and great rejoicing was in the house
of Fayre.
Dolly made a clean breast of the whole matter, and though Mr. Fayre was
dumfounded, he couldn’t suppress his laughter at the way his daughter
had manœuvred.
“You’re a case, Dollygirl!” he exclaimed. “I’ll see Mr. Forbes about
this to-morrow.”
“But you’ll stay in Berwick, Father?”
“Oh, yes, we’ll stay in Berwick. I think Berwick has earned the honour
of your citizenship as long as you live. Dolly, you have surprised
me,—you certainly have!”
“Where _are_ you people?” called Bob Rose from the hall. “It’s time to
start!”
Dolly was just then smothered in her mother’s embrace. She lifted her
beaming face, and called out, “All right, Bob. Coming!”
And with gay laughter, the Rose-Fayre quartette started off, secure in
the knowledge that they were all four, permanent citizens of the town of
Berwick!
THE END
* * * * *
BOOKS BY CAROLYN WELLS
PATTY SERIES
PATTY FAIRFIELD
PATTY AT HOME
PATTY IN THE CITY
PATTY’S SUMMER DAYS
PATTY IN PARIS
PATTY’S FRIENDS
PATTY’S PLEASURE TRIP
PATTY’S SUCCESS
PATTY’S MOTOR CAR
PATTY’S BUTTERFLY DAYS
PATTY’S SOCIAL SEASON
PATTY’S SUITORS
PATTY’S ROMANCE
PATTY’S FORTUNE
MARJORIE SERIES
MARJORIE’S VACATION
MARJORIE’S BUSY DAYS
MARJORIE’S NEW FRIEND
MARJORIE IN COMMAND
MARJORIE’S MAYTIME
MARJORIE AT SEACOTE
TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES
TWO LITTLE WOMEN
TWO LITTLE WOMEN AND TREASURE HOUSE
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
The list of books by Carolyn Wells has been moved from the front of the
book to the end of the book. Archaic spellings and hyphenation have been
retained. Punctuation and obvious typesetting errors have been corrected
without note. Other errors have been corrected as noted below.
page 81, How do do ==> How do you do
page 137, noticed Dolly’s speech. ==> noticed Dotty’s speech.
page 214, _Do_ be on on my side, ==> _Do_ be on my side,
[End of _Two Little Women and Treasure House_, by Carolyn Wells]