THE PARTY
Very early, on the morning of the day of the party, Nancy and Aunt
Milly and B'lindy and Jonathan and Nonie and Davy and Peter Hyde, each,
scanned a sunny, cloudless sky with relief and joy.
"Well, it isn't going to rain, anyway," each thought.
Even Miss Sabrina, lifting her shade slowly, felt her pulse beat more
quickly as a sunbeam danced into her face. This day was a new day for
Happy House; she could not count the years since a "party" had been
given in her home; her old hands trembled now as she dressed hurriedly.
"_What_ if something goes wrong!" she thought. Had they forgotten
anything?
A little later Nancy, standing with her arms full of girlish finery of
thirty years ago, voiced the same fear to Aunt Milly.
"_What_ if something should go wrong!" But there had been a giggle in
her voice as she had said it. This was the most delightfully funny
party she had ever known, and it was going to be the very jolliest, too.
Directly after breakfast Nonie had run home with the made-over white
dress. She thought it much lovelier than velvet and in her joy over a
pair of Nancy's slippers the child forgot her cherished dream of a
train.
What Miss Milly should wear to the party was a matter that demanded
much thought. "You see, I want you to look _happy_," Nancy explained
to Aunt Milly. She had dragged down from the attic a little trunk in
which, after the accident, many of Aunt Milly's girlish possessions had
been packed. It was great fun taking them out and selecting from them
what Aunt Milly should wear. There were not many things--compared to
Nancy's own wardrobe it was pitifully small and spoke eloquently of the
limited pleasures of Aunt Milly's girlhood.
"This will be lovely," Nancy held out a flowered silk. "And you can
wear these darling beads. And this," picking out a shell comb, "in
your hair. And I will send Jonathan over to Judson's for a bunch of
their lovely roses. I _know_ they have some!"
"But isn't this--queer--and out of date? I'm old now, Nancy!"
"You dear, funny Aunt Milly! Don't you know that you're not a bit old?
All this time you've been shut away the years have been rolling right
past you and have left you untouched. You're going to be the sweetest
picture and you're going to be a--surprise, too!"
She was a picture when Nancy's eager fingers had finished with her.
The pink of the quaintly fashioned dress was not more pink than the
color that flushed her delicate cheeks; into her soft hair Nancy had
thrust the shell comb and around her neck hung a chain of tiny corals.
Jonathan had returned from Judson's with four bunches of roses and one
of them now adorned Miss Milly.
"You're just _lovely_," Nancy had cried, imprinting a warm kiss upon
the blushing cheek.
She awarded the same stamp of approval upon Aunt Sabrina, too, who was
very stately in a black silk with one of the Judson roses pinned in the
net fichu about her throat.
"And I shall kiss you, too," Nancy called out to B'lindy, catching,
through the open door a glimpse of marvellously starched calico.
"You go 'long and keep out from under my feet," had been B'lindy's
retort as she retreated from Nancy's threatened attack. "I guess
there's work has to be done before _this_ party's over!" But the
grumbling in her voice could not conceal her pride and satisfaction.
"Oh, _everything_ is just lovely," Nancy exclaimed, tiptoeing about to
add a finishing touch here and there. And indeed, some magic wand
seemed to have scattered gladness everywhere about the old place; the
great rooms, open now to the sunshine, radiated it in the fragrance of
the flowers that Nancy had heaped everywhere.
"I wish it would stay like this," was her unspoken thought.
But in her plans for the party which was to show all Freedom that Happy
House _was_ a happy house, Nancy had reckoned without Mrs. Cyrus Eaton.
Since trouble had shadowed Happy House and shut its hospitable doors,
time had brought changes to Freedom just as it had to every place on
the globe; commerce, trade, politics, a certain democratizing of the
standards of living had made their inroads even upon the little
village; new families came and old ones died out. And new influences
challenged and threatened the old Island aristocracy.
Not the least of these was the influence of trade. When Cyrus Eaton
bought and rebuilt the general store next to the post-office he made
for himself--or for his wife--a social prestige that was beyond
dispute. As the years had gone by he had strengthened this materially
by certain credits which he extended to different families in the
village.
Webb had gone to Mrs. Eaton's first with his invitation and his story.
That lady had flipped the little card upon the table with a snort. Did
Miss Leavitt or anyone _else_ think she'd go anywhere where those
Hopworths were? Was it not her duty, too, to warn her friends as to
what this party would be like--to tell them of this hoydenish,
impertinent girl, "of the bad branch of the family," who seemed to have
hypnotized Miss Sabrina?
By the time Mrs. Eaton had finished her baking, put on her best purple
poplin and started out in Webb's trail, her rage had carried her to
such heights of eloquence that it was not difficult for her to convince
her neighbors that some "hoax" was about to be played upon the good
folks of Freedom and that each one must show her pride by remaining
away from the party. She talked so fast, and repeated her stories so
often, that she digressed, quite unconsciously, from the truth and, at
the last few calls, made Nancy out a most shocking young person!
"I _can't_ tell you--I _wouldn't_ tell you--all the goings _on_ at that
Cove," was her favorite introduction. "And in the orchard, too!
_Anyone_ could have told Sabrina Leavitt she was a _fool_ bringing the
creature here--that branch of the family, _everyone_ knows, wouldn't be
above doing _anything_!"
So while happy Nancy arranged flowers for the party the expected guests
entrenched themselves behind their closed blinds, their righteous
satisfaction tinged the very least bit by regret born of immense
curiosity.
However, there were two exceptions. Samuel Todd, the postmaster, was
an aspirant for a seat in the State Legislature. His ancestors had
never lived anywhere else but on the Island and he had inherited a
wholesome respect for the Leavitt name. He was enough of a politician,
too, to know that, even though she was an old woman, he might sometime
need Miss Sabrina's good-will.
"You go 'long and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut," he had
advised his wife when, after Mrs. Eaton's hurried call, she had sought
his counsel. "You women talk too much, anyway."
Mrs. Todd, for once, was delighted to do his bidding; Carrie Baker,
over at North Hero, had made over her yellow muslin so that it was
"better'n new--and just lyin' up there in the closet catchin' dust,"
she explained to Mrs. Sniggs. Mrs. Sniggs promptly offered to
accompany her.
"I'm that _curious_ to see that mantel--and the girl, too!"
So that, when the hour of the party struck and found Nancy, like a
flower, with Miss Sabrina and Miss Milly, on the lawn, ready to receive
their guests, the only guests (excepting Peter Hyde and the Hopworths
and Miss Sabrina and B'lindy, peeking from the door, did not count
them) were Mrs. Sniggs and Mrs. Todd.
Liz Hopworth with Nonie and Davy had come early. Davy shone as to face
and feet; the grandeur of the new shoes Peter Hyde had given him quite
made up for the small things lacking in the rest of his appearance.
Liz was trying not to pant in a plum-colored cashmere that was many
sizes too small for her gaunt frame. Nancy had managed to place her
near Aunt Milly--Aunt Milly was sure to be cordial and gentle with her
and put her at her ease.
Webb and Peter Hyde had come early, too. Nancy had caught herself
watching for Peter Hyde. She had given a little involuntary gasp when
she saw him--he was resplendent in immaculate white flannels!
"Of course he _bought_ them--just for this!" she thought regretfully.
However, she had a moment of delicious satisfaction when she took him
to Miss Sabrina; they should all see that a hired man could be very
much of a gentleman.
"Peter," she managed to whisper to him, "I have a feeling that
something _awful_ is going to happen!" Then Mrs. Todd and Mrs. Sniggs
had come through the gate and she had gone forward to meet them.
It was Webb who gave Nancy a hint of the real truth. He was, as he
expressed it, "so gol darn flubberin' mad at the hul parcel of
womenfolks he'd liked to burst!" Gossip had crept to the post-office
stoop and Webb had sensed what was going on. "Skunks--beggin' your
pardon, Miss Anne, but that's _what_!"
Nancy had a moment of panic; her eyes sought wildly for Peter Hyde.
Then her fighting blood stirred. "Thank you, Webb," she said with
well-assumed calmness. "Don't worry a bit! We'll show them--we'll act
just as though we hadn't invited anyone else!"
But her nonchalant manner cloaked real distress. There was Miss
Sabrina, proud Miss Sabrina who had opened the doors of her trouble for
all Freedom to come and gape at--Nancy knew it had not been easy!
There was pretty, fluttering, expectant Aunt Milly in the dress she had
had made when she was eighteen; Nonie who had dreamed of throngs of
guests paying homage before her; and B'lindy, who had made a cake that
was "like as a twin to the one my mother made for the Gov'nor!" What
would _they_ say?
Was she not, indirectly, the cause of the humiliation that threatened
them?
Nancy hurried to Peter Hyde where, in a corner of the garden, he stood
paying court to Nonie. In answer to his pleasant nonsense Nonie's
delighted laughter was rising shrilly. Nancy sent Nonie back to Aunt
Milly. Then she caught Peter's arm.
"Peter! _Pe-ter_! Quick--come behind this bush! I'm--I'm--I've got
to cry----"
And to Peter Hyde's consternation Nancy _did_ burst into tears.
"For Heaven's sake, Nancy, what----"
"I'm just--_mad_," Nancy blurted from behind a handkerchief. "The--the
_cats_!" She lifted her head, relieved by her sudden outburst. "It's
that Mrs. Eaton again! She's--just--getting even!" She told what Webb
had said. "And here's the--party--and no one will come! Aunt Sabrina
will never, never get over it. And B'lindy--I _wish_ I could run away."
Peter Hyde wanted very much to laugh, but the real distress in Nancy's
face touched him. He patted her consolingly.
"Can't I do something? Can't Webb and I round 'em up at the point of a
gun?"
"N-no, it's too late! We've just got to act as though the--the garden
was _full_ and make the best of it! I wanted it to be _such_ a
success. I wanted it to be a party that Nonie 'd never forget. And I
wanted everyone to see Aunt Milly! Oh, why, oh, _why_ doesn't
something happen!" For Nancy had suddenly remembered the huge pails of
ice-cream and the cake that was "like as a twin to the one my mother
made for the Gov'nor."
At that moment the loud whirring of an automobile caught their
attention. Nancy, red-eyed, peeped from behind their bush.
"It's at our gate!" she cried. "_Peter_----" she clutched his arm.
From the tonneau a tall man was alighting. To Nancy there was
something vaguely familiar in the sharp-featured, clean-shaven face and
in the mass of wavy white hair that fringed his coat collar.
"_Peter, it's--it's--Theodore Hoffman!_"