THE BALL
"Music and lights put me all in a flutter!" exclaimed Helen as they
approached the broad and hospitable mansion.
Already there were several buggies and carriages in the gravelled
driveway. The guests were arriving early, as sensible country people
should. Let the city folks wait until far in the night to begin their
revels, but those living in the country as a rule feel that balls should
start early and break up early.
"Do you care so much for parties?"
"I think I must. I have not been to very many balls, because you see I
am not out in society yet. I reckon I'll never make my début now," and
Helen gave a little sigh.
"Does it make so very much difference to you?"
"Well, not so much as it would have a year ago. I used to feel that
making one's début was a goal that was of the utmost importance, but
somehow now I do feel that there are things a little bit more worth
while."
"What for instance?"
"Getting Father well, and--and----"
"And what?"
"You might think I am silly if I tell you,--silly to talk about it."
"I promise to think you are you no matter what else it is, and you
are--well, never mind what you are."
"Well, somehow I have begun to feel that helping people to be gay is
important, like cheering up Miss Ella and Miss Louise. They have such
stupid times. I really believe they quarrel just to make life a little
gayer. I go to see them every day and it makes me feel good all over to
know how much they like to have me come."
"And you were afraid I'd think that was silly?" asked George Wright as
he halted his car down under a great willow oak, well away from the
other vehicles. How he wished they were to stay out under that tree all
evening! Music and dancing were nothing to him compared to the pleasure
he obtained from talking to this girl.
"Let's sit here until the others come," he suggested.
"And waste all that good music!"
Dr. Wright began to envy the Misses Grant whom Helen wanted to make
happy.
"Of course not! I forgot how seldom you have a chance to dance."
Weston was wonderfully beautiful. The electric lights may have been an
anomaly, but they certainly helped to make the old house show what it
was capable of. The dead and gone colonials who had built the place
had been forced either to have their balls by daylight or to content
themselves with flickering candles, which no doubt dropped wax or even
tallow on the handsome gowns of the beauties and belles. The broad hall
with the great rooms on each side seemed to be made for dancing. The
floor was polished to a dangerous point for the unwary, but the unwary
had no business on a ballroom floor.
The count seemed in his element as he received his guests, but Herz
looked thoroughly out of place and ill at ease.
"Ah, Miss Helen! I am so glad to welcome you--and Dr. Wright--it is
indeed kind of you to come! I am depending upon you, Miss Helen, to
help me entertain these people who have come so promptly. They neither
dance nor speak. Herz is about as much use to me on this occasion as a
porcupine would be. Only look around the room at my guests!"
They did indeed look most forlorn. One old farmer was almost asleep
while his wife sat bolt upright by his side with a long sad face and a
deep regret in her eyes. No doubt, she was regretting the comfortable
grey wrapper she had discarded for the stiff, best, green silk, and
the broad easy slippers that had been replaced by the creaking shoes.
Several girls with shining eyes and alert expressions were evidently
wondering what ailed the young men who stood against the wall as though
it might fall down if they budged an inch.
"Why are they wasting all this good music?" demanded Helen.
"As you say in America: 'Seek me!'" laughed the host.
"Search me, you mean."
"Ah, but is it not almost the same? What do you say, Dr. Wright?"
"Well, I'd rather someone would seek me than search me."
"So! And now, Miss Helen, if you will discard your wraps and return
quickly and help me I shall be most grateful. If these poor people do
not get started they will go to sleep."
Helen flew up to the dressing-room which, sure enough, Chloe had reached
before her. The girl was huddled down in a corner of the room looking
the picture of woe.
"Did you see Tempy?" asked Helen, taking for granted that Chloe had been
speaking of her sister when she had asked about one's duty to one's own
people.
"No'm!"
"Wasn't she at your mother's?"
"I don't know, 'm!"
"Was your mother there?"
"Yassum!"
There was never any use in trying to make Chloe talk when she had
decided not to, so Helen threw off her wraps and with a peep in the
mirror where one could see from top to toe, she hastened to the aid of
Count de Lestis.
"Mother will be along soon and she can do wonders with people who are
bashful," declared Helen, "but I'll try my hand at it until she comes.
They must dance, then they will thaw out."
"Certainly, and will you dance with me to show them how?"
Helen forgot all about the fact that she had come with Dr. Wright and he
might reasonably expect to claim the first dance.
"Yes, but you must introduce me to all these people and I'll ask some of
the girls to dance while you go get the young men to come fall in the
breach."
The shiny-eyed girls were willing enough and the young men seemed to
think if the count didn't mind his walls falling down, far be it from
them to hold them up, so in a few moments the sad crowd were in a gale
of good humor. The old farmer waked up and his wife looked as though she
might try her new creaky shoes on the waxed floor if anyone would only
ask her.
Dr. Wright looked on rather grimly as Helen was whisked from under his
very nose. He might have stood it better if the count had not been such
a perfect dancer and so very handsome. He had a way of whispering to his
partner during the dance that was also a sore trial to the young
physician.
"What could he be saying to Helen to make her dimple and blush?"
The arrival of the carriage containing Mrs. Sutton and Mrs. Carter with
their rather bored husbands was a welcome interruption to the poor young
man. Soon came the lumbering hay wagon with its giggling, chattering
load, and then Helen was at liberty to dance with him, since the count
perforce must again play the gracious host.
"Isn't it perfect?" she exclaimed. "The floor, the music, and
everything!"
"Not quite so perfect now as when you had the count for a partner, I am
afraid," he muttered, bending over to make her hear. He was too tall to
converse while dancing with Helen. He had never regretted his inches
before.
"Nonsense! You dance just as well as he does, and he talks so much while
he is dancing. I hate to dance and talk, too,--just dancing is enough
for me."
"Me, too, then!" and once more he felt the satisfaction that a man who
measures over six feet can't help feeling.
Helen was right. Mrs. Carter was a born entertainer and she had hardly
taken the social reins in her hands before the ball was running
smoothly. Even Bobby found a partner, a funny little girl with such
bushy hair that anyone could tell at a glance it had been put up in
curl papers for several days. She looked like a pink hollyhock in her
starched book-muslin that stood out like a paper lamp shade. Her round
black eyes seemed very lovely to the gallant Bobby, who took her into
the back hall where they turned round and round in imitation of the
dance, and when dancing palled on them they showed each other how to
make rabbits out of their handkerchiefs.
"This is the kind of party I like," said the wholesome Mrs. Sutton.
"Every Jill has her Jack and there are some Jacks to spare. Deliver me
from parties where girls must sit against the wall and wait for partners
to be released."
"When you get the vote you can do the asking, and then parties where the
females predominate will be more popular," teased her husband.
"Nonsense! We can still do the asking if we care to. Come on and dance
with me, sir!" and Mr. Sutton delightedly complied.
Mrs. Carter did not have to spend all the evening making other people
have a good time. She was asked to dance by the count and her pretty
little figure and graceful bearing attracted other partners, and she
was soon tripping the light fantastic toe as untiringly as any of her
daughters. Tillie Wingo herself did not get broken in on oftener.
Herz stood in corners, looking like one of the men out of Noah's ark,
Nan declared, so stiff and wooden.
"I don't know which one he resembles most, Shem, Ham, or Japheth," she
whispered to Billy Sutton, "but I wonder if you licked him if the paint
would come off."
"I don't know, but I'd like to try. I can't abide that Dutchman. I
believe he thinks he is superior to all of us, even his precious count.
Jehoshaphat! I believe he is asking Douglas to dance."
So he was. The secretary was stalking across the room, determination on
his noble brow and his full mouth drawn together in a tight red line. He
stopped in front of Douglas and placing one hand on his breast and the
other one on his waist line in the back, he shut up like a jack-knife.
Douglas looked a little astonished, not knowing exactly what the young
man wanted, and then the memory of the early days at dancing school came
to her when the little boys were forced to bow to the little girls
before they danced with them.
"Certainly," she said, excusing herself from Lewis, who looked a little
sullen, having expected to claim this particular waltz with his cousin,
but who had neglected to do so, being too intent on gazing at her pretty
flushed face.
Herz clasped her around the waist and began to twirl in a most
astonishing manner. She could hardly keep her footing and very early
lost her breath. Skilful guiding was not necessary, although when they
arose to dance the floor was well filled with other couples, but these,
knowing full well that discretion was the better part of valor, gave the
spinning pair the right of way. The man never lost his gravity or
dignity, but his mouth broke from the hard red line to its usual
full-lipped curve. Douglas felt as though that dance would never end.
His strong arm held her like an iron ring as round and round they went.
"'Hi! Lee! Hi! Low!
Hi! Lee! Hi! Low!
I jus' come over,
I jus' come over--
Hi! Lee! Hi! Low!
Hi! Lee! Hi! Low!
I jus' come over the sea,'"
sang Billy Sutton, as he and Nan watched the gyrations of their host's
secretary. "Did you ever see such a proof of foreign blood in any man
who pretends to be American born?"
"Why, Billy, he is American born. The count says he was born and raised
in Cincinnati."
"Yes, and the count says he himself was born and raised in Hungary, but
I bet you anything they may have been born where they say they were but
they were raised in Berlin. Look at that fellow and tell me if he
doesn't dance like Old Heidelberg."
"The count doesn't, anyhow. I never saw such divine dancing as the
count's."
As though he had heard her, the handsome smiling de Lestis came to claim
her for the rest of the dance.
"Aren't these foreigners the limit?" said the boy, seeking the
disconsolate Lewis. "I know I oughtn't to say anything about a fellow
when I am in his house, but somehow that count gets my goat."
"Mine, too! Who is this Herz?"
"Oh, he is a kind of lady's maid or secretary or something for his nibs.
Says he is an American, but I have my doubts. I don't see how Miss
Douglas Carter can stand for him, but she lets him walk home from school
with her any time, so I hear," announced Billy, absolutely unconscious
of the fact he was retailing very unwelcome news to his companion.
"Humph!" was all Lewis could say, but that monosyllable had a world of
meaning in it. And so although the music was gay and the lights were
bright and the laughter was merry in that ballroom, there were several
sore hearts, and the little green-eyed monster was waltzing or fox
trotting or one stepping every dance.
"I wonder why Miss Ella and Louise don't get here," Helen said to Dr.
Wright, who had at last persuaded her to sit out one dance with him.
"They have had plenty of time even with their slow old horse."
They had found a sofa in the back hall behind a clump of palms. There
were many plants artistically grouped by the florist from town, who had
tastefully decorated the whole mansion.
"The telephone has been ringing a great deal since we came. Could they
be trying to get the count? I always feel like jumping when the 'phone
rings, feeling that it must be for me."
"Oh, no! The ring for Weston is two long and three short rings. These
country 'phones are hard to learn, but I often answer the one at Grantly
for my old friends."
"Listen, there goes the bell again! Goodness! I believe one of these
'phones that rings everybody's number would send me crazy."
"They say you get used to them. That is four shorts and a long. That's
for Dr. Allison, who lives miles and miles from here. Don't you remember
Page Allison, that lovely girl who came to Greendale with the Tucker
twins? It is her father."
"Of course I do, and I know Dr. Allison, too! A delightful gentleman!"
"I believe I'll call up Miss Ella and see what is the matter,--why they
don't come on."
George Wright sighed. There always seemed to be something to keep Helen
from talking to him tête-à-tête. Still, he felt glad to think that Helen
was so fond of these old ladies and so thoughtful of them.
The telephone was under the stairway, quite near their retired nook.
Helen rang the number for Grantly and there was a quick response.
"Hello!" came in Miss Louise's contralto notes.
"Miss Louise, this is Helen Carter! Why haven't you started yet? Don't
you know the count can't give a ball without you and Miss Ella?"
"Oh, my dear, my sister is ill, very ill,--fainted just as we were
getting ready to leave. You see she would make that cake, that angel's
food, although I told her I was going to make a fruit cake, but you
know Ella---- Oh, but how can I rattle along this way? I have been
trying so hard to get Dr. Allison and he doesn't answer."
"Wait a minute, Miss Louise," and Helen put her hand over the receiver
and turned to Dr. Wright.
"Dr. Wright, will you take me to Grantly? Miss Ella has had a fainting
fit--a stroke, I am afraid it is."
"Take you! My dear, I'll take you anywhere you want to go."
"Miss Louise, Dr. Wright is going to bring me to Grantly in his
automobile immediately. Don't worry; we will be there soon."
She rang off quickly and flew upstairs for her wraps. Chloe was not in
the dressing-room, but she quickly unearthed her cape and hood from the
bed where the many shawls and cloaks had been piled. On the way out she
whispered to Nan where she was going, but told her not to tell the
others, as she did not want to break up the ball or to cast a shadow
on the happiness of the dancers.