UNCLE PETER’S CONSIDERING CAP.
Certainly prize-day was to lose no outward manifestation of its great
importance. A telegram had arrived from Mrs. Richmond announcing her
safe arrival at the Cape. But when she would be back again was quite
uncertain.
The girls, however, determined to have a right good time in her
absence; and in this they were aided and abetted by the Captain, who,
for all his moral qualities, enjoyed a lark with the best.
So far as the special prizes went, they were to be bestowed upon the
successful candidates in private. “For our battalion is more or less a
secret one,” said the Captain. “We fight, you know, against
_invisible_ foes, against the powers of the air, so to speak, and
we don’t want _visible_ people—acquaintances, and so on—to
behold us either in our defeat or victory. I propose that the prizes
should wind up the day, when all the guests have gone, and the dance
is over, and the fun is at an end. Then will come the crowning event,
after which all must necessarily be bathos.”
The girls willingly agreed, and preparations were set on foot for the
festival. Captain Richmond decided that the early part of the day
should be given up to the poor people of the neighbourhood. There
should be a dinner on the lawn, followed by games and tea. Several
prizes for feats of skill were to be offered, and the usual amusements
provided.
Captain Richmond, who came down to Fairleigh almost every year,
belonged to a workmen’s club and a boys’ cricket club, and was
consequently well known by most of the people in the place.
Invitations were sent out to quite a hundred poor people, and very
busy were the Fairleigh servants preparing for the work which lay
before them. For visitors were also to arrive in the afternoon—the
several young folks whom the Richmonds happened to know. They were to
help to entertain the poor people, who were expected to take their
departure at six o’clock. Then would follow a dance in the great
drawing-room, ending by supper. Supper would usher in the departure of
the guests, and after that the successful winner of the Royal Cross
would be decorated with her great honour. This was the plan, and great
delight did it cause among the young people.
Augusta was now as gay as the others. She had forgotten all possible
danger, and except that she avoided speaking of the Asprays, turning a
little white when the subject of Connie’s terrible illness was
broached, she certainly looked as if nothing ailed her. She was quite
in her element making preparations for the great prize-day, and proved
a most useful, clever, and efficient mistress of the ceremonies; for,
being the eldest girl, Captain Richmond was forced to put her into
this position. Neither Kitty nor Nora wished for it; and as to Nancy,
she was of course quite out of the running.
“We must have new dresses for the dance,” said Augusta. “We ought to
send to town for them.”
“As to that,” replied Captain Richmond, “you must please yourselves,
girls. I never did know anything about dress; but it seems to me that
all girls look much alike—that is, as far as their dress is
concerned. Oh yes, put on something white and feathery-looking; that
is the correct thing, is it not?”
“Uncle Pete, you are quite too killing!” said Gussie; and she laughed
with great enjoyment. That afternoon she sent a long letter to her
mother’s dressmaker in town, the result of which was that an
interesting and mysterious-looking box arrived for her on the day
before the dance. It was taken straight up to her room, and she
invited the three other girls and Miss Roy to come and witness the
unpacking.
“I just do _adore_ finery,” said Gussie. “I don’t pretend for a
moment that I am made any other way. I revel in pretty things. No one
could ever give me too much dress or too many fine feathers. Now
then”——
The cord of the box was removed, the lid was lifted, and between folds
of tissue-paper a beautiful white silk, soft as quantities of delicate
lace and chiffon could make it, was unfolded.
“Isn’t it just too sweet?” said Gussie. “Fancy me in it. I wish I were
quite grown-up so that I might have a train. Well, I shall be grownup
in two years’ time. Two years don’t take _very_ long to run—do
they, Miss Roy?”
“Not when you get as old as I am,” said Miss Roy; “but at your age
they go somewhat slowly. Yes, it is a pretty frock, but, in my
opinion, a little too dressy for the occasion.—My dear Nora and Kitty
and Nancy, you will look very countrified beside Augusta.”
“Oh, we don’t mind,” said Nora, with a laugh.
“In fact,” said Kitty, “we would rather wear plain washing frocks,
which can just be put into the tub and come out as fresh as ever.”
“Sour grapes,” said Augusta. “Now, Nancy here would like a dress of
this sort.—Wouldn’t you, Nancy?”
“Yes—very much,” replied Nancy.
Miss Roy gave her a critical and somewhat surprised glance.
“I didn’t know that you cared about fine clothes, Nancy,” she said.
“Not always; but I should have liked a dress like Augusta’s for
to-morrow. All the same,” she added, “I am not going to be unhappy
about it.”
“Put your dress back, dear,” said Miss Roy. “I am glad you are
pleased. And now let us go downstairs. You know, my dears, the news
about poor Connie Aspray is very serious indeed. She was so ill last
night that she was not expected to live. If anything were to happen to
her, our party to-morrow could scarcely take place. However, we must
hope for the best.—Augusta, you are looking very white and tired; you
won’t be good for anything unless you go to bed soon. Now come down;
Uncle Peter is waiting for his supper.”
After supper that night Kitty ran up to Nora and began to whisper to
her. Nora looked excited, and nodded her head once or twice. The end
of the little girls’ confab was a sudden rushing of two eager pairs of
feet all over the grounds looking for Uncle Peter. Eventually the
Captain was discovered, smoking by himself in an arbour at one end of
the grounds.
“We knew you by the glow-worm in your mouth,” said Nora, with a peal
of laughter. “And now we want you to do something for us—oh, so very,
very badly!”
“Well, come, young monkeys,” said the Captain, making room for a
niece to sit on each side of him. “Now then, what is the news? Oh, how
your eager, silly little hearts beat! What is up, young-uns?”
“It is about Nan,” said Nora. “You know, Uncle Pete, that there never
was a little girl less vain than Nancy.”
“My dear child, I am quite willing to believe you; but why should
Nancy be vain?”
“Oh, you know she is sweetly pretty.”
“She is,” said the Captain; “she has quite a charming face.”
“And we want her to look the very prettiest girl in the room to-morrow
night. Augusta has such a grand frock, sent all the way from London—a
flounced and billowed and chiffoned dress, Uncle Pete—and she is so
conceited about it; and to-night, when we were looking at it, Nancy
said she would like a frock like that. Poor darling! we were rather
surprised—though, after all, it did seem quite natural. And, Uncle
Pete, we want her to have one; and, Uncle Pete, _can_ you manage
it?”
“Good gracious, my dear child! I know nothing about clothes.”
“Oh, couldn’t you go to town and see what the very grandest shop
has—ready-made, you know? Surely there must be something that Nan
could wear.”
“But to-morrow is the day of the festival. Even if I started now to
London I could not be back in time.”
“But couldn’t you go to Exeter? You could get to Exeter in an hour and
a half.”
“And find all the shops shut, Nora.”
“Couldn’t you take the very earliest train tomorrow morning and get
back in time?”
“I could, of course, only what state should I find this place in
here?”
“Oh! we will see to that. We will do every single thing in your
absence.”
“What devoted little friends Nan has!”
“Of course we are devoted to our darling; who would not be?” said
Nora.
“It would be so lovely to see Gussie coming in all bows and smiles and
curtsies, and with that sort of affected way she has, and then Nancy
dancing in in her pretty dress, looking more beautiful than Gussie
could ever look!” said Kitty.
“Really, Kitty, you can be quite eloquent when you please,” said the
Captain. “Well, leave the matter to me.”
“You will do it, Uncle Peter; and you will manage the money part?”
“Oh yes, child; I will manage the money part.”
“Well then, good-night, _dear_ Uncle Peter; we must be going to
bed.”
They tripped off through the darkness; and the Captain put on his
considering cap with a vengeance.