THE FANCY DRESS PARTY
"Mrs. Preston says we may have a dance before we go back to the
houseboat, Eleanor," announced Lillian. The two girls were out under the
big grape arbor filling a basket with great bunches of red and purple
grapes. "And Madge suggests that we have a surprise dance for the boys
the night they get back with the motor launch."
Eleanor laughed happily. "What a perfectly delightful idea! Isn't Mrs.
Preston a dear? We must have been a lot of trouble to her."
Lillian shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't think so," she answered.
"At least, I believe Mrs. Preston has liked the trouble. She says that
we have made her feel younger and jollier than she ever expected to feel
again in her life. She says that she is awfully fond of each one of us,
and that Mr. Preston has never cared as much for a boy since his own son
died, many years ago, as he does for David Brewster."
"Lillian," Eleanor's tones were serious, "I think that we ought to
change our opinions of David. Somehow, he seems so much nicer recently,
since the other boys went away. He is awfully quiet and sad, but I
don't believe he is hateful and sullen, as we thought him at first. Poor
David!"
Lillian did not reply at once. A sympathetic expression crossed her
delicate, high-bred face. "I suppose, Nellie, dear, it must be hard for
David to be with fellows who have everything in the world, like the
motor launch boys--money and family and friends--when David has
nothing."
"Madge declares that David will some day be a great man," rejoined
Eleanor. "There he is now over there under the trees with Madge, Phil
and little blind Alice. Isn't she a quaint child? She says she loves
Madge best of all of us, because she can feel the color in Madge's red
hair and cheeks. Miss Betsey is almost jealous of our little captain."
Lillian finished eating a bunch of catawba grapes. "Miss Betsey wants to
take that blind child back to Hartford with her. She says that if Alice
sees specialists in New York her sight may be restored. And her
grandfather has consented to let her go, though I don't see how the old
man can bear to give her up. Mr. and Mrs. Preston have asked him to live
here with them, but he says he will go into a Confederate home for old
Southern soldiers as soon as Alice leaves. Let's go over under the trees
with Madge and Phil. We can eat our grapes and talk about the party."
Madge waved a yellow telegram frantically as Nellie and Lillian came
toward them. "Tom and the boys will be back with the motor launch the
day after to-morrow," she announced. "And that darling, Mrs. Preston,
says we can have our dance on that very night, and it's to be a fancy
dress party if we like, because she has stores and stores of lovely
old-fashioned clothes up in her attic and she won't mind our dressing up
in them. So we must drive round the neighborhood this afternoon and
deliver our invitations and decide what characters we are to represent
and----" Madge gasped for breath, while Phil fanned her violently with a
large palm-leaf fan.
"Come right on upstairs to the attic with me," ordered Madge, as soon as
she could speak again. "We have no time to waste. We can look at the
dresses and then see what characters we wish to represent. David, you
can come, too," invited Madge graciously. "You can carry Alice up the
steps."
David lifted the blind girl to his shoulder and trotted obediently after
the girls. He no longer minded Madge's occasionally imperious manner,
for he knew she was unconscious of it.
On top of all the other clothes in Mrs. Preston's cedar chest was a
black velvet gown, made with a long train and a V-shaped neck. Phyllis
laid it regretfully aside. "This is perfectly elegant," she sighed, "but
it isn't appropriate for any of us to wear."
Lillian Seldon received the rejected costume with outstretched arms. For
some time she had cherished the belief that she bore a faint resemblance
to the beautiful but ill-fated "Mary, Queen of Scots." Lillian had come
across a picture of the lovely Mary Stuart in an illustrated "Book of
Queens" in Miss Tolliver's school, and had borne the book to her bedroom
and carefully locked her door. There she had gazed thoughtfully at the
picture and then at her own reflection in the glass. Of course, it would
never do for her to mention it, not even to one of the beloved houseboat
girls, but it did appear to Lillian that her own blonde hair grew in a
low point on her forehead in much the same fashion as Mary Stuart's.
Also, she had a similar line to her aristocratic, aquiline nose, and her
chin was almost as delicately pointed. Assuredly Lillian was not vain.
She did not think for a moment that she was beautiful, like Mary Queen
of Scots, still she thought that she bore a faint resemblance to the
ill-fated Queen.
In the velvet gown lay Lillian's opportunity to impersonate the lovely
Mary, but she blushed as she smoothed it softly. "I wonder if I might
not wear this dress to the party?" she suggested meekly.
Madge shook her head critically. "It is much too old for you, dear," she
argued.
"But I have always wanted to wear a black velvet gown so much, Madge, I
mean to buy one as soon as I am really grown-up," she pleaded, "and I
could come to our dance as 'Mary, Queen of Scots.'"
The three girls surveyed pretty, blonde Lillian thoughtfully. Then three
heads nodded approvingly.
"Here is a costume for Nellie. It looks like her, doesn't it, girls?"
exclaimed Phyllis, picking up a soft, white silk gown with a Greek
border of silver braid a little tarnished by time. "Isn't it just too
sweet for anything?"
"It is a love of a frock," sighed Eleanor rapturously, "but I don't
think it suggests any special character."
Madge frowned thoughtfully. "Oh, it doesn't make so much difference
about representing a particular character, Nellie. You can go as a lady
of King Arthur's time. I imagine the women wore just such gowns in the
days of beauty and chivalry."
"All right," said Eleanor obediently. "There is a 'King Arthur's
Knights' in the library. I'll get it and read up on the doings of the
King and his subjects. Perhaps I'll find a character that will just suit
me. I'm too dark to ever think of impersonating Elaine."
"I can't represent a great historical character," declared Madge,
peering into the trunk--"who ever heard of a heroine with red hair and a
turned-up nose?--but I am going to wear this dress." Madge held up a
flowered silk of softest, palest blue, with great pale-pink roses
trailing over it. It was made with a long, pointed blouse, and had
little paniers over the hips. Madge slipped the gown on over her frock.
The dress had a little bag of the same silk hanging at its side and in
it a dainty lace handkerchief, sweet with a far-off fragrance of
lavender.
David and the three girls gazed admiringly at Madge.
"Miss Dolly Varden!" exclaimed Phil. "It is just the kind of costume
that Dickens makes Dolly Varden wear in 'Barnaby Rudge.' Only Miss Jenny
Ann must make you a poke bonnet. But what about poor me? I am such a
dreadfully unromantic-looking person. I am not a tall, stately maiden
like our rare, pale Lillian, nor a witch like Madge, nor a dainty little
maid like Nellie. I am just plain Phil!" Phyllis sighed, half in jest
and half in earnest.
"I know what character I want you to represent, Phyllis, darling,"
cried Madge. "There is no costume here that is very appropriate for it,
but I know how to make a helmet and shield out of silver paper and
cardboard. And I am sure we could get up the rest of the costume."
"Whom do you mean, Madge?" inquired Phil.
"Guess. My character is a wonderfully brave girl, who sacrificed her
life to save her King and her country. Just lately she has been declared
a saint by her church."
David glanced up from the floor, where he was amusing little Alice.
"Joan of Arc, you mean, don't you?" he asked.
"Of course I do, David. How did you guess it? I don't say that Phil
looks just like the pictures of Joan of Arc, but she is like her. She
would do anything in the world that she thought was right, even if she
lost her life in doing it," declared her friend admiringly. "Now, Mr.
David Brewster, having arranged the costumes of four important members
of the Preston household, what character will you represent?"
"My own humble self," announced David firmly. "Please don't ask me to
'dress up.' I felt like a perfect chump the night I had to rig myself up
as 'Hiawatha.' I rushed up to the house and got the crazy clothes off,
even before I--before I----" David stopped, then continued nervously:
"Remember, the other fellows won't have time to get themselves into
fancy costumes, so please let me off. I'll clear out, now, and let you
girls fix up your costumes."
To save her life, Madge could not help looking curiously at David. It
was the usual hour in the afternoon when the young man disappeared.
When, late that afternoon, the lad came home he had lost his cheerful
mood of the morning. He was sullen and downcast. David had made up his
mind that his best chance to restore the stolen property to Miss Betsey
Taylor and Mrs. Preston was on the night of the fancy dress ball. The
upstairs part of the house would then probably be empty, and no one
would think of him or notice him. At any rate, he dared not wait longer.
As soon as Tom and the other boys returned, the houseboat party would
start off up the river again in tow of the "Sea Gull," and his
opportunity would be lost.