Buch lesen: «Dorothy's House Party»

CHAPTER I
THE END OF AN INFAIR

Dorothy sat up in bed and looked about her. For a moment she did not realize where she was nor how she came to be in such a strange and charming room. Then from somewhere in the distance sounded a merry, musical voice, singing:

 
“Old Noah of old he built an ark —
One more river to cross!
He built it out of hickory bark —
One more riv – ”
 

The refrain was never finished. Dorothy was at the open window calling lustily:

“Alfy! Alfy Babcock! Come right up here this very, very minute!”

“Heigho, Sleepy Head! You awake at last? Well, I should think it was time. I’ll be right up, just as soon as I can put these yeller artemisias into Mis’ Calvert’s yeller bowl.”

A fleeting regret that she had not waked earlier, that it was not she who had gathered the morning nosegay for Mrs. Betty’s table, shadowed the fair face of the late riser; but was promptly banished as the full memory of all that happened on the night before came back to her. Skipping from point to point of the pretty chamber she examined it in detail, exclaiming in delight over this or that and, finally, darting within the white-tiled bathroom where some thoughtful person had already drawn water for her bath.

“Oh! it’s like a fairy-tale and I’m in a real fairy-land, seems if! What a dainty tub! What heaps of great soft towels! and what a lovely bath-robe! And oh! what a wonderful great-aunt Betty!”

A moisture not wholly due to the luxurious bath filled Dorothy’s eyes, as she took her plunge, for her heart was touched by the evidences of the loving forethought which had thus prepared for her home-coming before she herself knew she possessed a birthright home. Of her past life the reader if interested may learn quite fully, for the facts are detailed in the two books known as “Dorothy’s Schooling,” and “”

So though it was still a radiantly happy girl who welcomed Alfaretta it was a thoughtful one; so that Alfy again paused in her caroling to demand:

“Well, Dolly Doodles, what’s the matter? If I’d been as lucky as you be I wouldn’t draw no down-corners to my mouth, I wouldn’t! I’d sing louder’n ever and just hustle them ‘animals’ into that ‘ark’ ‘two by two,’ for ‘There’s one more river to cross! One more river – One more river to cro-o-o-oss!’”

But without waiting for an answer the young farm girl caught her old playmate in her strong arms and gave her a vigorous hug.

“There, Miss Dorothy Calvert, that don’t begin to show how tickled I am ’bout your good fortune! I’m so full of it all ’t I couldn’t hardly sleep. Fact. You needn’t stare, though ’tis a queer thing, ’cause if there’s one thing more to my liking than another it’s going to bed on such a bed as Mis’ Calvert has in every single one of her rooms. There ain’t no husk-mattresses nor straw shake-downs to Deerhurst. No, siree! I know, for I went into every single chamber from roof to cellar and pinched ’em all. The ‘help’ sleep just as soft as the old lady does herself. Softer, Ma says, ’cause old-timers like her if they didn’t use feathers just laid on hard things ’t even Ma’d despise to have in her house. However, everybody to their taste! and say, Dolly, which of all them pretty dresses are you goin’ to put on? What? That plain old white linen? Well, if you don’t beat the Dutch and always did! If I had all them silks and satins I’d pick out the handsomest and wear that first, and next handsome next, and keep right on, one after another, till I’d tried the lot, if I had to change a dozen times a day. See! I found them cardinal flowers down by the brook and fetched ’em to you.”

With one of her sudden changes of mood Alfaretta dropped down upon the floor and pulled from the pocket of her old-fashioned skirt a cheap paper pad. It was well scribbled with penciled notes which the girl critically examined, as she explained:

“You see, Dorothy, that your story is like reading a library book, only more so; and lest I should forget some part of it I’ve wrote it all down. Listen. I’ll read while you finish fixin’. My! What a finicky girl you are! You was born – ”

“But, Alfy, please! I protest against hearing my own history that way!” cried the other, making a playful dash toward the notes, which Alfaretta as promptly hid behind her. Then, knowing from experience that contest was useless, Dorothy resigned herself to hearing the following data droned forth:

“You was born – ”

“Of course!”

“’Twon’t do you a mite of good to interrupt. I’m in real down earnest. You’ll – you’ll be goin’ away again, pretty soon, and having come into your fortunes you’ll be forgettin’ – ” Here Alfy sobbed and dabbed her knuckles into her eyes – “’Cause Ma says ’tain’t likely you’ll ever be the same girl again – ”

“I should like to know why not? Go on with your story-notes. I’d even rather hear them than you talking foolishly!”

“Well, I’ll have to begin all over again. You was born. Your parents were respectful – respective – hmm! all right folks though deluged with poverty. Then they died and left you a little, squallin’ baby – ”

“Alfy, dear, that’s unkind! I don’t admit that I ever could be a squaller!”

Alfaretta raised her big eyes and replied:

“I ain’t makin’ that up. It’s exactly what Mis’ Calvert said her own self. ’Twas why she wouldn’t bother raisin’ you herself after your Pa and Ma died and sent you to her. So she turned you into a foundling orphan and your Father John and Mother Martha brung you up. Then your old Aunt Betty got acquainted with you an’ liked you, and sort of hankered to get you back again out of the folkses’ hands what had took all the trouble of your growing into a sizable girl. Some other folks appear to have took a hand in the business of huntin’ up your really truly name; and Ma Babcock she says that Mis’ Calvert’d have had to own up to your bein’ her kin after awhile, whether or no; so she just up and told the whole business; and here you be – a nairess! and so rich you won’t never know old friends again – maybe – though I always thought you – you – you – Oh! my!”

Alfaretta bowed her head to her knees and began to cry with the same vigor she brought to every act of her life. But she didn’t cry for long; because Dorothy was promptly down upon the floor, also, and pulling the weeper’s hands from her flushed face, commanded:

“It’s my turn. I’ve a story to tell. It’s all about a girl named Alfaretta Babcock, who was the first friend I ever had ‘up-mounting,’ and is going to be my friend all my life unless she chooses otherwise. This Alfy I’m talking about is one of the truest, bravest girls in the world. The only trouble is that she gets silly notions into her auburn head, once in a while, and it takes kisses just like these – and these – and these – to drive them out. She’s going to be a teacher when she grows up – ”

Alfy’s tears were dried, her face smiling, as she now interrupted:

“No. I’ve changed my mind. I’m either going to be a trained nurse or a singer in an opera. Premer donners, they call ’em.”

“Heigho! Why all that?”

Alfaretta dropped her voice to a whisper and cautiously glanced over her shoulder as she explained:

“Greatorex!”

“Miss Greatorex? What has that poor, learned dear to do with it?” demanded Dorothy, astonished.

“Everything. You see, she’s the first woman teacher I ever saw – the first woman one. Rather than grow into such a stiff, can’t-bend-to-save-your-life kind of person I’d do ’most anything. Hark! There’s somebody to the door!”

Both girls sprang to open it and found a maid with a summons to breakfast; also with the request that “Miss Dorothy should attend Mrs. Calvert in her own room before going below stairs.”

Dorothy sped away but Alfaretta lingered to put the cardinal flowers into a vase and to admire afresh the beautiful apartment assigned to her friend.

There was honest pleasure in the good fortune which had come to another and yet there was a little envy mingled with the pleasure. It was with a rather vicious little shake that she picked up the soft bath-robe Dorothy had discarded and folded it about her own shoulders; but the reflection of her own face in the mirror opposite so surprised her by its crossness that she stared, then laughed aloud.

“Huh! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself, Alfy Babcock? When you put on that two-sticks, ten-penny-nails-look you’re homely enough to eat hay! ’Tain’t so long ago that Dolly hadn’t no more in this world than you’ve got this minute. Not half so much either, ’cause she hadn’t nobody belongin’, nobody at all, whilst you had a Ma and Pa and a whole slew of brothers and sisters. All she’s found yet is a terrible-old great-aunt and some money. Pa says ‘money’s no good,’ and – I guess I’ll go get my breakfast, too.”

Her good temper quite restored, this young philosopher skipped away and joined her mother and sisters in the great kitchen where they were already seated at table.

In Mrs. Calvert’s room the happy old lady greeted Dorothy with such a warmth of affection that the girl felt no lack of others “belongin’” – for which lack Alfaretta had pitied her – and only yearned to find a way to show her own love and gratitude. There followed a happy half-hour of mutual confidences, a brief reading of the Word, a simple prayer for blessing on their new lives together, and the pair descended to the cheerful room where their guests were assembling: each, it seemed, enjoying to the utmost their beautiful surroundings and their hostess’s hospitality.

Jests flew, laughter rang, and the Judge could scarcely refrain from song; when just as the meal was over James Barlow appeared at the long, open window, his mail bag over his shoulder, and instant silence succeeded as each person within waited eagerly for his share in the contents of the pouch.

There were letters in plenty, and some faces grew grave over their reading, while for the Judge there was a telegram which Jim explained had just come to the office where was, also, the post-office.

“Hmm! that ends my vacation in earnest! I meant to stay a bit longer out of business, but – Mrs. Calvert, when’s the next train cityward, please?”

Mrs. Betty returned:

“I’ve half a mind not to tell you! But, of course, if – Dorothy, you’ll find a parcel of time tables in that desk by the fireplace. Take them to Judge Breckenridge, please.”

Nor was he the only one to make them useful; for it followed that the Deerhurst “infair,” begun on the night before and planned to extend over several days must be abruptly ended. The hostess was herself summoned elsewhere, to attend the sick bed of a lifelong friend, and the summons was not one to be denied. Even while she was reading the brief note she knew that she must forsake her post and with a thrill of pride reflected that now she had one of her own kin to install in her place. Young as Dorothy was she must act as the hostess of Deerhurst, even to these gray-headed guests now gathered there. But, presently it appeared, that there would be no guests to entertain. President Ryall was needed to supervise some changes at his college; merchant Ihrie must hasten to disentangle some badly mixed business affairs; Dr. Mantler would miss the “most interesting case on record if he did not come at once to his hospital;” and so, to the four old “boys,” who had camped together in the Markland forests, the end of playtime had indeed come, and each after his kind must resume his man’s work for the world.

Young Tom Hungerford’s furlough from West Point expired that morning, and his mother felt that when he returned to the Academy she must establish herself for a time at the hotel near-by. At her invitation Mrs. Cook and Melvin were to accompany her; that these Nova Scotians might see something of lads’ military training outside their own beloved Province.

Catching the general spirit of unrest, Miss Greatorex suddenly announced that it was time she returned to the Rhinelander. Maybe she dreaded being left the only adult in the house, for as yet no mention had been made as to the disposal of her charges, Molly and Dolly. Certainly, she felt that having been burdened with their cares during the long summer she was entitled to a few days’ rest before the beginning of a new school year. The lady added:

“Besides all that, I shall have no more than sufficient time to arrange my specimens that I obtained in Markland.”

A short silence fell once more upon that company in the breakfast room, and somehow the brilliant sunshine seemed to dim as if a storm were rising; or was it but a mist of disappointment rising to Dorothy’s eyes as she glanced from one to another and realized how well she loved them each and all, and how sad the parting was.

But her last glance fell upon her Aunt Betty’s face and she bravely smiled back into the kindly eyes so tenderly smiling upon her. After all, that was the Calvert way! To meet whatever came with “head erect and colors flying,” and she, too, was Calvert. She’d prove it! Cried she, with that characteristic toss of her brown curls:

“Well, if everybody must– what can I do to help? As for you two, darling ‘father’ and ‘mother,’ I hope nothing’s going to take you away from Deerhurst all of a sudden, like the rest!”

But there was, although there was no suddenness in this decision. As they presently informed her, the crippled ex-postman had made himself so useful at the sanitarium where he had spent the summer that he had been offered a permanent position there, at a larger salary than he had ever received as letter-carrier in Baltimore. He had also secured for his wife Martha a position as matron of the institution; and the independence thus achieved meant more to that ambitious woman than even a care-free home with her beloved foster-child. The death of their old aunt had released Martha from that separation from her husband which had so sorely tried her and, though sorry to part again from Dorothy, she was still a very happy woman.

“We shall always love one another, Dolly dear, but we’ve come to ‘the parting of the ways.’ Each as the Lord leads, little girl; but what is the reason, now that Mrs. Calvert’s grown-up party has ended, what is the reason, I say, that you don’t give a House Party of your very own?”

CHAPTER II
CHOOSING THE GUESTS

Those who must go went quickly. By trains and boats, the various guests who had gathered at Deerhurst to welcome Dorothy’s home-coming had departed, and at nightfall the great house seemed strangely empty and deserted. Even Ma Babcock had relinquished her post as temporary housekeeper and had hurried across the river to nurse a seriously ill neighbor.

“I may be back tomorrer and I may not be back till the day after never! I declare I’m all of a fluster, what with Mis’ Calvert goin’ away sort of leavin’ me in charge – though them old colored folks o’ her’n didn’t like that none too well! – and me havin’ to turn my back on duty this way. But sickness don’t wait for time nor tide and typhoid’s got to be tended mighty sharp; and I couldn’t nohow refuse to go to one Mis’ Judge Satterlee’s nieces, she that’s been as friendly with me as if I was a regular ’ristocratic like herself. No, when a body’s earned a repitation for fetchin’ folks through typhoid you got to live up to it. Sorry, Dolly C.; but I’ll stow the girls, Barry and Clarry and the rest, ’round amongst the neighbors somewhere, ’fore I start. As for you, Alfy – ”

“Oh, Mrs. Babcock! Don’t take Alfy away! Please, please don’t!” cried Dorothy, fairly clutching at the matron’s flying skirts, already disappearing through the doorway.

Mrs. Babcock switched herself free and answered through the opening:

“All right. Alfy can do as she likes. She can go down help tend store to Liza Jane’s, t’other village, where she’s been asked to go more’n once, or finish her visit to you. Ary one suits me so long as you don’t let nor hender me no more.”

Not all of this reply was distinct, for it was finished on the floor above, whither the energetic farm-wife had sped to “pack her duds”; but enough was heard to set Alfaretta skipping around the room in an ecstasy of delight, exclaiming:

“I’m to be to the House Party! Oh! I’m to be to the Party!”

But this little episode had been by daylight, and now the dusk had fallen. The great parlors were shut and dark. Prudent old Ephraim had declared:

“I ain’t gwine see my Miss Betty’s substance wasted, now she’s outer de way he’se’f. One lamp in de hall’s ernuf fo’ seein’ an’ doan’ none yo chillen’s go foolin’ to ast mo’.”

So the long halls were dim and full of shadows; the wind had risen and howled about the windows, which were being carefully shuttered by the servants against the coming storm which Dinah prophesied would prove the “ekernoctial” and a “turr’ble one”; and to banish the loneliness which now tormented her, Dorothy proposed:

“Let’s go into the library. There’s a fine fire on the hearth and the big lamp is stationary. Ephraim can’t find fault with us for using that. We’ll make out a list of the folks to ask. You, Alfy, shall do the writing, you do write such a fine, big hand. Come on, Molly girl! I’m so glad you begged to stay behind your Auntie Lu. Aren’t you?”

“Ye-es, I reckon so!” answered the little Southerner, with unflattering hesitation. “But it’s mighty lonesome in this big house without her and West Point’s just – just heavenly!”

“Any place would be ‘heavenly’ to you, Molly Breckenridge, that was full of boys!” retorted Dolly. “But don’t fancy you’d be allowed to see any of those cadets even if you were there. Beg pardon, girlie, I don’t want to be cross, but how can I have a decent party if you don’t help? Besides, there’s Monty and Jim left. They ought to count for something.”

“Count for mighty little, seems if, the way they sneak off by themselves and leave us alone. Gentlemen, Southern gentlemen, wouldn’t act that way!”

“Oh, sillies! What’s the use of spoiling a splendid time? It’s just like a cow givin’ a pailful of milk then turnin’ round and kickin’ it over!” cried good-natured Alfy, throwing an arm around each girl’s shoulders and playfully forcing her into the cheery library and into a great, soft chair. Of course, they all laughed and hugged one another and acknowledged that they had been “sillies” indeed; and a moment later three girlish heads were bending together above the roomy table, whereon was set such wonderful writing materials as fairly dazzled Alfaretta’s eyes. So impressed was she that she exclaimed as if to herself:

“After all, I guess I won’t be a trained nurse nor a opera singer. I’ll be a writin’ woman and have just such pens and things as these.”

“Oh, Alfy, you funny dear! You change your mind just as often as I used to!”

“Don’t you change it no more, then, Dorothy C.?” demanded the other, quickly.

“No. I don’t think I shall ever change it again. I shall do everything the best I can, my music and lessons and all that, but it’ll be just for one thing. I lay awake last night wondering how best I could prove grateful for all that’s come to me and I reckon I’ve found out, and it’s so – so simple, too.”

“Ha! Let’s hear this fine and simple thing, darling Dolly Doodles, and maybe we’ll both follow your illustrious example!” cried Molly, smiling.

“To – to make everybody I know as – as happy as I can;” answered the other slowly.

“Huh! That’s nothing! And you can begin right now, on ME!” declared Miss Alfaretta Babcock, with emphasis.

“How?”

“Help me to tell who’s to be invited.”

“All right. Head the list with Alfaretta Babcock.”

“Cor-rect! I’ve got her down already. Next?”

“Molly Breckenridge.”

“Good enough. Down she goes. Wait till I get her wrote before you say any more.”

They waited while Alfy laboriously inscribed the name and finished with the exclamation:

“That’s the crookedest back-name I ever wrote.”

“You acted as if it hurt you, girlie! You wriggled your tongue like they do in the funny pictures;” teased Molly, but the writer paid no heed.

“Next?”

“Dorothy Calvert.”

“So far so good. But them three’s all girls. To a party there ought to be as many boys. That’s the way we did to our last winter’s school treat,” declared Alfaretta.

“Well, there’s Jim Barlow. He’s a boy.”

“He’s no party kind of a boy,” objected Molly, “and he’s only —us. She hasn’t anybody down that isn’t us, so far. We few can’t make a whole party.”

But Dolly and Alfy were wholly serious.

“Montmorency Vavasour-Stark,” suggested the former, and the writer essayed that formidable name. Then she threw down the pen in dismay, exclaiming:

“You’ll have to indite that yourself or spell it out to me letter by letter. He’ll take more’n a whole line if I write him to match the others.”

“Oh! he doesn’t take up much room, he’s so little,” reassured idle Molly, with a mischievous glance toward the doorway which the other girls did not observe; while by dint of considerable assistance Alfy “got him down” and “all on one line!” as she triumphantly remarked.

“That’s two boys and three girls. Who’s your next boy?”

“Melvin Cook. He’s easy to write,” said Dolly.

“But he’s gone.”

“Yes, Alfy, but he can come back. They’ll all have to ‘come’ except we who don’t have to.”

A giggle from behind the portières commented upon this remark and speeding to part them Dolly revealed the hiding figures of their two boy house-mates.

“That’s not nice of young gentlemen, to peep and listen,” remarked Molly, severely; “but since you’ve done it, come and take your punishment. You’ll have to help. James Barlow, you are appointed the committee of ‘ways and means.’ I haven’t an idea what that ‘means,’ but I know they always have such a committee.”

“What ‘they,’ Miss Molly?”

“I don’t know, Mister Barlow, but you’re – it.”

“Monty, you’ll furnish the entertainment,” she continued.

The recipient of this honor bowed profoundly, then lifted his head with a sudden interest as Dorothy suggested the next name:

“Molly Martin.”

Even Alfy looked up in surprise. “Do you mean it, Dorothy C.?”

“Surely. After her put Jane Potter.”

James was listening now and inquired:

“What you raking up old times for, Dorothy? Inviting them south-siders that made such a lot of trouble when you lived ‘up-mounting’ afore your folks leased their farm?”

“Whose ‘Party’ is this?” asked the young hostess, calmly, yet with a twinkle in her eye.

“All of our’n,” answered Alfaretta, complacently.

“How many girls now, Alfy?” questioned Molly, who longed to suggest some of her schoolmates but didn’t like a similar reproof to that which fell so harmlessly from Alfaretta’s mind.

“Five,” said the secretary, counting upon her fingers. “Me, and you, and her, and – five. Correct.”

“Mabel Bruce.”

“Who’s she? I never heard of her,” wondered Molly, while Jim answered:

“She’s a girl ’way down in Baltimore. Why, Dorothy C., you know she can’t come here!”

“Why not? Listen, all of you. This is to be my House Party. It’s to be the very nicest ever was. One that everyone who is in it will never, never forget. My darling Aunt Betty gave me permission to ask anybody I chose and to do anything I wanted. She said I had learned some of the lessons of poverty and now I had to begin the harder ones of having more money than most girls have. She said that I mustn’t feel badly if the money brought me enemies and some folks got envious.”

Here, all unseen by the speaker, honest Alfaretta winced and put her hand to her face; but she quickly dropped it, to listen more closely.

“Mabel was a dear friend even when I was that ‘squalling baby’ Alfy wrote about. I am to telegraph for her and to send her a telegraphic order for her expenses, though Aunt Betty wasn’t sure that would be acceptable to Mr. and Mrs. Bruce. To prevent any misunderstanding on that point, you are to make the telegram real long and explicit. I reckon that’s what it means to be that committee Molly named. She’ll make six girls and that’s enough. Six boys – how many yet Alfy?”

“Three. Them two that are and the one that isn’t.”

“Mike Martin.”

Both Jim and Alfy exclaimed in mutual protest:

“Why Dorothy! That fellow? you must be crazy.”

“No, indeed! I’m the sanest one here. That boy is doing the noblest work anybody ever did on this dear old mountain; he’s making and keeping the peace between south-side and north-side.”

“How do you know, Dorothy?” asked Jim, seriously.

“No matter how I know but I do know. Why, I wouldn’t leave him out of my Party for anything. I’d almost rather be out of it myself!”

Then both he and Alfaretta remembered that winter day on the mountain when Dorothy had been the means of saving Mike Martin from an accidental death and the quiet conference afterward of the two, in that inner room of the old forge under the Great Balm Tree. Probably something had happened then and there to make Dolly so sure of Mike’s worthiness. But she was already passing on to “next,” nodding toward Alfy, with the words:

“The two Smith boys, Littlejohn and Danny.”

Jim Barlow laughed but did not object. The sons of farmer Smith were jolly lads and deserved a good time, once in their hard-worked lives; yet he did stare when Dorothy concluded her list of lads with the name:

“Frazer Moore.”

“You don’t know him very well, Dolly girl. Beside that, he’ll make an odd number. He’s the seventh – ”

“Son of the seventh son – fact!” interrupted Alfaretta; “and now we’ll have to find another girl to match him.”

“I’ve found the girl, Dolly, but she won’t match. Helena Montaigne came up on the train by which your Father John left for the north. You could hardly leave her out from your House Party, or from givin’ her the bid to it, any way.”

“Helena home? Oh! I am so glad, I am so glad! Of course, she’ll get the ‘bid’; I’ll take it to her myself the first thing to-morrow morning. But you didn’t mention Herbert. Hasn’t he come, too?”

James Barlow nodded assent but grudgingly. He had never in his heart quite forgiven Herbert Montaigne for their difference in life; as if it were the fault of the one that he had been born the son of the wealthy owner of The Towers and of the other that he was a penniless almshouse child. Second thoughts, however, always brought nobler feeling into the honest heart of Jim and a flush of shame rose to his face as he forced himself to answer.

“Yes, course. The hull fambly’s here.”

Dorothy checked the teasing words which rose to her lips, for when ambitious Jim relapsed so hopelessly into incorrect speech it was a sign that he was deeply moved; and it was a relief to see Alfaretta once more diligently count upon her fingers and to hear her declare:

“We’ll never’ll get this here list straight and even, never in this endurin’ world. First there’s a girl too many and now there’s a girl too short!”

“Never mind; we’ll make them come out even some way, and I’ll find another girl. I don’t know who, yet, and we mustn’t ask any more or there’ll be no places for them to sleep. Now we’ve settled the guests let’s settle the time. We’ll have to put it off two or three days, to let them get here. I wish your cousin Tom Hungerford could be asked to join us but I don’t suppose he could come,” said Dolly to her friend Molly.

“No, he couldn’t. It was the greatest favor his getting off just for those few hours. A boy might as well be in prison as at West Point!”

“What? At that ‘heavenly’ place? Let’s see. This is Wednesday night. Saturday would be a nice time to begin the Party, don’t you all think?”

“Fine. Week-end ones always do begin on Saturday but the trouble is they break up on Monday after;” answered Molly.

“Then ours is to be a double week-ender. Aunt Betty said ‘invite them for a week.’ That’s seven days, and now Master Stark comes your task. As a committee of entertainment you are to provide some new, some different, fun for us every single one of those seven days; and it must be something out of the common. I long, I just long to have my home-finding House Party so perfectly beautiful that nobody in it will ever, ever forget it!”

Looking into her glowing face the few who were gathered about her inwardly echoed her wish, and each, in his or her own way, resolved to aid in making it as “perfect” as their young hostess desired.

Monty heaved a prodigious sigh.

“You’ve given me the biggest task, Dolly Doodles! When a fellow’s brain is no better than mine – ”

“Nonsense, Montmorency Vavasour-Stark! You know in your little insides that you’re ‘’nigh tickled to death’ as Alfy would say. Aren’t you the one who always plans the entertainments – the social ones – at your school, Brentnor Hall? You’re as proud as Punch this minute, and you know it, sir. Don’t pretend otherwise!” reproved Molly, severely.

“Yes, but – that was different. I had money then. I hadn’t announced my decision to be independent of my father and he – he hadn’t taken me too literally at my word;” and with a whimsical expression the lad emptied his pockets of the small sums they contained and spread the amount on the table. “There it is, all of it, Lady of the Manor, at your service! Getting up entertainments is a costly thing, but – as far as it goes, I’ll try my level best!”

They all laughed and Dorothy merrily heaped the coins again before him.

“You forget, and so I have to remind you, that this is to be my Party! I don’t ask you to spend your money but just your brains in this affair.”

“Huh! Dorothy! I’m afraid they won’t go much further than the cash!” he returned, but nobody paid attention to this remark, they were so closely watching Dorothy. She had opened a little leather bag which lay upon the table and now drew from it a roll of bills. Crisp bank notes, ten of them, and each of value ten dollars.

“Whew! Where did you get all that, Dorothy Calvert?” demanded Jim Barlow, almost sternly. To him the money seemed a fortune, and that his old companion of the truck-farm must still be as poor in purse as he.

She was nearly as grave as he, as she spread the notes out one by one in the place where Monty had displayed his meager sum.

“My Great-Aunt Betty gave them to me. It is her wish that I should use this money for the pleasure of my friends. She says that it is a first portion of my own personal inheritance, and that if I need more – ”