THE MASQUERADERS' SHOW
It was the night of the Masqueraders' Show. The auditorium was packed,
for Annapolis was thronged with the relatives of the graduating class as
well as hundreds of visitors.
Among others were Polly Howland's mother, her married sister Constance,
and her brother-in-law, Harry Hunter, now an ensign. They had been
married at Polly's home in Montgentian, N.J., almost a year ago. Harry
Hunter had graduated from the Academy the year Happy and his class were
plebes, and had been the two-striper of the company of which Wheedles
was now the two-striper. His return to Annapolis with his lovely young
wife was the signal for all manner of festive doings, and it need hardly
be added that Mrs. Harold's party had a row of seats which commanded
every corner of the stage. Mr. Stewart and Peggy were of the party, of
course, and anything radiating more perfect happiness than Peggy's face
that night it would have been hard to find. Was not Daddy Neil beside
her, and in her private opinion the finest looking officer present?
Again and again as she sat next him she slipped her hand into his to
give it a rapturous little squeeze. Nor was "Daddy Neil" lacking in
appreciation of the favors of the gods. The young girl sitting at his
side, in spite of her modesty and utter lack of self-consciousness, was
quite charming enough to make any parent's heart thrill with pride. With
her exceptional tact, Mrs. Harold had won Harrison's favor, Harrison
pronouncing her: "A real, born lady, more like your own ma than any one
you've met up with since you lost her; SHE was one perfect lady if one
ever lived."
It had been rather a delicate position for Mrs. Harold to assume, that
of unauthorized guardian and counsellor to this young girl who had come
into her life by such an odd chance, but Mrs. Harold seemed to be born
to mother all the world, and subtly Harrison recognized the fact that
Peggy was growing beyond her care and guidance, and the thousand little
amenities of the social world in which she would so soon move and have
her being. For more than a year this knowledge had been a source of
disquietude to the good soul who for eight years had guarded her little
charge so faithfully, and she had often confided to Mammy Lucy:
"That child is getting clear beyond ME. She's growin' up that fast it
fair takes my breath away, and she knows more right now in five minutes
than I ever knew in my whole life, though 'twouldn't never in this world
do to let her suspicion it."
Consequently, once having sized up Mrs. Harold, and fully decided as the
months rolled by that she "weren't no meddlesome busybody, a-trying to
run things," she was only too glad to ask her advice in many instances,
and Peggy's toilet this evening was one of them. Poor old Harrison had
begun to find the intricacies of a young girl's toilet a trifle too
complex for her, and had gone to Mrs. Harold for advice. The manner in
which it was given removed any lingering vestige of doubt remaining in
Harrison's soul, and tonight Peggy was a vision of girlish loveliness in
a soft pink crepe meteor made with a baby waist, the round neck frilled
with the softest lace, the little puffed sleeves edged with it, and a
"Madam Butterfly" sash and bow of the crepe encircling her lithe waist.
Her hair was drawn loosely back and tied a la pompadour with a bow of
pink satin ribbon, another gathering in the rich, soft abundance of it
just below the neck.
By chance she sat between Mrs. Howland and her father, Mrs. Harold was
next Mrs. Howland, with Mr. Harold, Constance and Snap just beyond, and
Polly at the very end of the seat, though why she had slipped there Mrs.
Howland could not understand.
Peggy had instantly been attracted to Mrs. Howland and had fallen in
love with Constance as only a young girl can give way to her admiration
for another several years her senior. But there was nothing of the
foolish "crush" in her attitude: it was the wholesome admiration of a
normal girl, and Constance was quick to feel it. Mrs. Howland was
smaller and daintier than Mrs. Harold, though in other ways there was a
striking resemblance between these two sisters. Mrs. Harold, largely as
the result of having lived among people in the service, was prompt,
decisive of action, and rather commanding in manner, though possessing a
most tender, sympathetic heart. Mrs. Howland, whose whole life had been
spent in her home, with the exception of the trips taken with her
husband and children when they were young, for she had been a widow many
years, had a rather retiring manner, gentle and lovable, and, as Peggy
thought, altogether adorable, for her manner with Polly was tenderness
itself, and Polly's love for her mother was constantly manifested in a
thousand little affectionate acts. She had a little trick of running up
to her and half crying, half crooning:
"Let me play cooney-kitten and get close," and then nestling her sunny
head into her mother's neck, where the darker head invariably snuggled
down against it and a caressing hand stroked the spun gold as a gentle
voice said:
"Mother's sun-child. The little daughter who helps fill her world with
light." Polly loved to hear those words and Peggy thought how dear it
must be to have some claim to such a tender love and know that one meant
so much to the joy and happiness of another.
Mrs. Harold had written a great deal of Peggy's history to this sister,
so Mrs. Howland felt by no means a stranger to the young girl beside
her, and her heart was full of sympathy when she thought of her lonely
life in spite of all this world had given her of worldly goods.
Meantime the little opera opened with a dashing chorus, a ballet
composed, apparently, of about fifty fetching young girls, gowned in the
most up-to-date costumes, wearing large picture hats which were the envy
of many a real feminine heart in the audience, and carrying green
parsols with long sticks and fascinating tassles. Oh, the costumer knew
his business and those dainty high-heeled French slippers seemed at
least five sizes smaller than they really were as they tripped so
lightly through the mazes of the ballet. But alack! the illusion was
just a TRIFLE dispelled when the ballet-girls broke into a rollicking
chorus, for some of those voices boomed across the auditorium with an
undoubtable masculine power.
Nevertheless, the ballet was encored until the poor dancers were mopping
rouge-tinged perspiration from their faces. One scene followed another
in rapid order, all going off without a hitch until the curtain fell
upon the first act, and during the interval and general bustle of friend
greeting friend Polly and Mrs. Harold disappeared. At first, Mrs.
Howland was not aware of their absence, then becoming alive to it she
asked:
"Connie, dear, what has become of Aunt Janet and Polly?"
"I am sure I don't know, mother. They were here only a moment ago,"
answered Constance.
"I saw them go off with Happy, beating it for all they were worth toward
the wings, Carissima," answered Snap, using for Mrs. Howland the name he
had given her when he first met her, for this splendid big son-in-law
loved her as though she were his own mother, and that love was returned
in full.
"Peggy, dear, can you enlighten us?" asked Mrs. Howland looking at the
girl beside her, for her lips were twitching and her eyes a-twinkle.
Peggy laughed outright, then cried contritely:
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Howland, I did not mean to be rude, but it
is a secret, and such a funny one, too; I'd tell if I dared but I've
promised not to breathe it."
"Run out an extra cable then, daughter," laughed Commander Stewart.
"I think this one will hold," was Mrs. Howland's prompt answer, with a
little pat upon Peggy's soft arm. "She's a staunch little craft, I
fancy. I won't ask a single question if I must not." A moment later the
lights were lowered and the curtains were rung back. The scene drew
instant applause. It was a pretty woodland with a stream flowing in the
background. Grouped upon the stage in picturesque attitudes were about
forty figures costumed to represent various birds, and in their midst
was a charming little maiden, evidently the only human being in this
bird-world, and presently it was disclosed to the audience that she was
held as a hostage to these bird-beings, until the prince of their
enchanted world should be released from bondage in the land of human
beings and restored to them.
"Why who in this world can that little chap be?"
"I didn't know there was such a tiny midshipman in the whole brigade."
"Doesn't he make a perfectly darling girl, though?"
"Perfectly lovable, hugable and adorable," were the laughing comments.
In the dim light Peggy buried her head in Daddy Neil's lap, trying to
smother her laughter.
"You--you little conspirator," he whispered. "I believe I've caught on."
"Oh, don't whisper it. Don't!" instantly begged Peggy. "Polly would
never forgive me for letting out the secret."
"You haven't. I just did a little Yankee guessing, and I reckon I'm not
far from the mark."
"Hush, and listen. Isn't it pretty?"
It was, indeed, pretty. The captive princess, captured because she had
learned the secret of the bird language, began a little plaintive
whistling call, soft, sweet, musical as a flute; the perfect notes of
the hermit thrush. This was evidently the theme to be elaborated upon
and the chorus took it up, led so easily, so harmoniously and so
faultlessly by the dainty little figure with its bird-like notes. From
the hermit-thrush's note to the liquid call of the wood-thrush, the
wood-peewee, the cardinal's cheery song, the whip-poor-will's insistent
questioning, on through the gamut of cat-birds, warblers, bob-whites and
a dozen others, ran the pretty chorus, with its variations, the little
princess' and her jailor birds' dancing and whistling completing the
clever theme. When it ended the house went mad clapping, calling,
shouting: "Encore! Encore!"
And before it could be satisfied the obliging actors had given their
chorus and ballet five times, and the whistlers' throats were dry as
powder. As they left the stage for the last time the little princess
flung HERself into Mrs. Harold's arms, gasping.
"I know my whistle is smashed, destroyed, and mined beyond repair, Aunt
Janet, but oh, wasn't it perfectly splendid to do it for the boys and
hear that house applaud them."
"Them?" cried a feathered creature coming up to give Polly a clap upon
the back as he would have given a classmate. "Them! And where the
mischief do YOU come in on this show-down? There listen to that. Do you
know what it means? It means come out there in front of that curtain and
get what's coming to you. Come on."
"Oh, I can't! I can't! They'd recognize me and I wouldn't have them for
worlds. Not for worlds! It would be perfectly awful," and Polly shrank
back abashed.
"Recognized! Awful nothing! You've got to come out. It's part of the
performance," and hand in hand with Happy and Wheedles the abashed
little princess was led before the foot-lights to receive an ovation and
enough American beauty roses to hide her in a good-sized bower. As she
started back she let fall some of her posies. Instantly, Wheedles was
upon his knees, his hand pressed to his heart, and his eyes dancing with
fun, as he handed her the roses. Shouts and renewed applause went up
from the auditorium.
"I KNOW that is a girl. I am positive of it. But WHO can she be?" was
the comment of one of the ladies behind Mrs. Howland.
"Well I have an idea _I_ might tell her name if I chose," said Mrs.
Howland under her breath to Peggy.
"Didn't she do it beautifully?" whispered Peggy, squeezing Mrs.
Howland's hand in a rapture. "But please don't tell. Please don't."
Mrs. Howland smiled down upon the eager face upraised to hers. "Do you
think I am likely to?" she asked.
Peggy nodded her head in negative, but before she could say more Polly
and another girl came walking down the aisle. Even Peggy looked in
surprise at the newcomer, then she gave a little gasp. The girl was much
taller than Polly, and rather broad shouldered for a girl, but strange
to relate, looked enough like Peggy to be her twin. Mr. Stewart gave a
startled exclamation and seemed about to rise from his seat. Peggy laid
a detaining hand upon his and whispered: "Don't." Her father looked at
her as though he did not know whether his wits or hers were departing.
The play was again in progress so Polly and her companion took their
seats next Mrs. Harold who had returned some minutes before. Polly was
doing her best to control her laughter, but the girl with her was the
very personification of decorum.
"In heaven's name who IS that girl?" Peggy's father asked in a low
voice.
"He's--he's--" and Peggy broke down.
"What?"
"Yes--I'll tell you later, but isn't it too funny for words?"
"Why child she--he-ahem--that PERSON is enough like you to be your
sister. Who--" and poor puzzled Neil Stewart was too bewildered to
complete his sentence or follow the play.
"Yes; I've known that from the first and it is perfectly absurd,"
answered Peggy, "but I never realized HOW like me until this minute. But
he will catch the very mischief if he is found out. But WHERE did he get
those clothes? They aren't a part of the costumes so far as I know."
But there is just where Peggy's calculations fell down, for the dainty
lingerie gown, with its exquisite Charlotte Corday hat had been added to
the costumes to substitute others which had been ordered but could not
be supplied. Consequently Peggy had not happened to see it.
And the handsome girl? Well she certainly WAS a beauty with her dark
hair, perfect eyebrows, flashing dark eyes and faultless teeth. Her skin
was dark but the cheeks were mantled with a wonderful color. As the play
was still in progress, she could not, of course, enter into conversation
with Polly's friends, but her smile was fascinating to a rare degree.
At length the second act ended, and Neil Stewart could stand it no
longer.
"Peggy, introduce me to that girl right off. Why---why, she might be
you," and Peggy's father fairly mopped his brow in perturbation.
Peggy beckoned to the new arrival who managed to slip around the aisle
and come to her end of the seat. If she minced with a rather affected
step it was not commented upon. Most people were too fascinated by her
beauty to criticise her walk. The look which the two exchanged puzzled
Mr. Stewart more than ever. Peggy's lips were quivering as she said:
"Miss--er, Miss Leroux, I want you to know Mrs. Howland and my father."
"So delighted to," replied "Miss" Leroux, but at the words Mrs. Rowland
gave a little gasp and Mr. Stewart who had risen to meet Peggy's friend,
started as though some one had struck him, for the voice, even with
Durand's best attempts to disguise it to a feminine pitch, held a
quality which no girl's voice ever held.
"Well I'll be--I'll be--why you unqualified scamp, who ARE you, and what
do you mean by looking so exactly like my girl here that I don't know
whether I've one daughter or two?" Then Durand fled, laughing as only
Durand could--with eyes, lips and an indescribable expression which made
both the laugh and himself absolutely irresistible.
The following week sped away and before any one quite knew where it had
gone the great June ball was a thing of the past and the morning had
come which would mean the dividing of the ways for many.
Happy, Wheedles, and Shortie had graduated and would have a month's
leave. Durand was now a second-classman, Ralph a youngster, and about to
start upon the summer practice cruise.
The ships were to run down to Hampton Roads and then up to New London,
where Mrs. Harold and all her party were to meet them, she and Mrs.
Howland having taken rooms at the Griswold for the period the ships
would be at New London.
They had asked Peggy to go with them and when "Daddy Neil" arrived he
was included in the invitation.
But Daddy Neil had a plan or two of his own, and these plans he was not
long in turning over with Mr. Harold to the satisfaction of all
concerned, and they all decided that they "beat the first ones out of
sight."
As Daddy Neil was a man of prompt action he was not long in carrying
them into effect, and they were nothing more nor less than a big house
party in New London rather than the hotel life which had been planned.
So telegraph wires were kept busy, and in no time one of the Griswold
cottages was at the disposal of the entire party.