"Say yes!" he begged, in a new tone.
"Yes," I whispered, hiding my face behind my hair.
Somebody rattled the knob again. They were growing impatient.
"Well, good-bye," he said, in a hurried way. His hands were back in his
pockets.
"Good-bye," I answered.
He went toward the door, then turned again, as if he had forgotten
something, and stood thinking.
"Will you give me that?" he asked, pointing to a wee blue bow on my
sleeve.
I unpinned it, and laid it in his hand. He fastened it to the front of
his coat. He strutted a little as he went into the parlor. I could see
by his smile that he was pleased.
It was my turn now, and I must call a little boy, for that was what all
the girls did. I looked in the parlor, undecidedly. There was the stout
boy going by with a cheerful wink, and away in the back of the room a
nice little fairhaired boy named Eddie was watching me, wistfully. I
called Eddie, with sudden fearlessness. He came with a rush, and closed
the door behind him. Then he kissed me before I could say a single word!
I pushed him away, and began to cry. Even through my bitter tears I
could see his astonished face. How was he to know that all my life I had
hated to be kissed by strangers. And now by a boy!
"Why, that's the game!" he cried, eagerly. "What did you call me out
for?"
"I don't know," I answered, sobbing.
He gazed at me with a worried look. Then he pulled out a fat, white
lozenge from his vest pocket, and offered it to me.
"Here, take that," he said, generously.
I examined it through my tears with strong disfavor. It looked like
medicine. Still I did not want to hurt his feelings. I ate it with
misgivings.
"That's right," he said, radiantly. "They are good for sore throat. My
father takes them. Don't you feel better now?"
"Yes," I answered, with a weak smile.
It was evident that in his way he meant to be kind, and, perhaps, after
all the lozenge like the kiss might be a part of the game.
They were dancing in the parlor when we went back, and the fun was
growing loud and furious. One little girl was singing, rapturously, as
she danced, and two little boys were sliding in a corner. There was
talk of supper. Somebody, peeking through a keyhole, had seen pink
ice-cream, and had come away dazzled. The great hour was drawing near,
and little boys were going about looking for their partners. Up at the
end of the room Theodore's mother was talking to him.
He came to me afterwards, with a crest-fallen air:
"Say," he said, "I can't take you out to supper. I have to take my
cousin. She says so."
He looked back over his shoulder, threateningly.
"What she says now, goes. When I'm a man things will be different. Ain't
you sorry I can't take you out?"
"Yes," I confessed, candidly.
He seemed to be glad that I should be sorry.
"He's going to take you out," he continued, with a jealous nod at the
stout boy. "She asked him to."
I did not want to go with the stout boy. Every time that he looked
sidewise at me I felt a sudden fear. Suppose that it should be a trick!
Suppose that he should think of something new to do right now! When the
inspiring march began, however, and we all fell into line, each little
girl on the arm of her partner, I forgot everything in my excitement,
and grew almost reconciled.
We passed solemnly around the parlor three times, and then swept across
the hall into an opposite room. In the center of the room there stood a
beautiful table, and the woman in the white cap, who was the only grown
person in sight, was serving out pink ice-cream. The little girls sat on
chairs about the walls, and the little boys brought them plates full of
goodies from the table. There were lovely things which I had never seen
before, much too pretty to eat, and almost too fragile to touch. And
over the whole room there fell the soft light of candles.
"Do you like ice-cream?" the stout boy asked, when he had seen me
settled in my chair. "I tell you what I'll do. I'll pick out all the
things that I like."
He was a wonderful provider. I could see him heaping up my plate, and he
always seemed to take the best of everything. No other girl was going to
have such mammoth slices of cake as I, and he had a perfect pyramid of
candy in his hand. I knew that I could never eat it all, no, not a half.
Somehow he did not seem able to find me afterwards. I beckoned to him,
but still he turned aside, and went toward a far corner. He was sitting
down! He was going to eat the things himself! Was it a trick? I looked
down hard in my lap. Never, no, never, should he make _me_ cry out loud
at a party!
I heard a sudden sound of wrath. I turned around just in time to see
Theodore Otway tip the stout boy over on the floor, and sit on him. He
seemed to be very angry. He pounded the stout boy. I was almost afraid
to look. The woman in the white cap left off serving pink ice-cream, and
made a dreadful outcry.
"Oh, Master Theodore," she cried, wringing her hands. "Oh, Master
Theodore! You mustn't do that! It's not polite!"
A little boy cheered faintly, and in the next room, where the older
people were having their supper, there was a hurried consultation. Then
Mrs. Otway came in.
"What is all this?" she asked, in astonishment, looking as if she could
not believe her eyes. "Theodore!"
She caught him by the arm, and dragged him up in a hurry.
"For shame!" she cried. "What a way to treat your company! I'm going to
put you right straight to bed."
A shudder ran around the room, and we all looked at one another in
horror. To be put to bed at a party! There was a disgrace.
"I don't care," Theodore retorted, recklessly, with tears in his eyes.
"I'd do it again any day. He's a greedy pig!"
I stole up and slipped my hand in his. Somehow I did not like to see him
cry.
"He was eating that little girl's supper," a chorus of eager little boys
explained. "He was eating it all up!"
"I wasn't either," the stout boy declared, hastily. "I was only
pretending." He dusted off his knees, and looked around the incredulous
circle. "I tell you I was only pretending. I was going to bring it to
her all right afterwards."
Nobody believed him, not even I, for had I not seen him eating the pink
ice-cream?
"You had better come with me," Mrs. Otway said, laughingly. "Come. You
can finish your supper in the next room."
It was very pleasant after she had taken him away. Every one was so good
to me. There were lots of nice things left on the table, and Theodore
filled the largest plate that he could find. Other little boys stood
around to watch me eat, and gave me presents. One gave me his jackknife,
and one gave me a penny which he had brightened to gold by rubbing it on
the carpet. When we went back in the parlor there were dozens and dozens
of little boys who wanted to dance with me. I could not tell whom to
choose. Then, in hardly a moment, Auntie May looked in the door, and I
knew that the party was over, and I must go home.