Madge Morton's Trust Part 20

David lifted the blind girl to his shoulder and trotted obediently after the girls. He no longer minded Madge's occasionally imperious manner, for he knew she was unconscious of it.

On top of all the other clothes in Mrs. Preston's cedar chest was a black velvet gown, made with a long train and a V-shaped neck. Phyllis laid it regretfully aside. "This is perfectly elegant," she sighed, "but it isn't appropriate for any of us to wear."

Lillian Seldon received the rejected costume with outstretched arms. For some time she had cherished the belief that she bore a faint resemblance to the beautiful but ill-fated "Mary, Queen of Scots." Lillian had come across a picture of the lovely Mary Stuart in an ill.u.s.trated "Book of Queens" in Miss Tolliver's school, and had borne the book to her bedroom and carefully locked her door. There she had gazed thoughtfully at the picture and then at her own reflection in the gla.s.s. Of course, it would never do for her to mention it, not even to one of the beloved houseboat girls, but it did appear to Lillian that her own blonde hair grew in a low point on her forehead in much the same fas.h.i.+on as Mary Stuart's.

Also, she had a similar line to her aristocratic, aquiline nose, and her chin was almost as delicately pointed. a.s.suredly Lillian was not vain.

She did not think for a moment that she was beautiful, like Mary Queen of Scots, still she thought that she bore a faint resemblance to the ill-fated Queen.

In the velvet gown lay Lillian's opportunity to impersonate the lovely Mary, but she blushed as she smoothed it softly. "I wonder if I might not wear this dress to the party?" she suggested meekly.

Madge shook her head critically. "It is much too old for you, dear," she argued.

"But I have always wanted to wear a black velvet gown so much, Madge, I mean to buy one as soon as I am really grown-up," she pleaded, "and I could come to our dance as 'Mary, Queen of Scots.'"

The three girls surveyed pretty, blonde Lillian thoughtfully. Then three heads nodded approvingly.

"Here is a costume for Nellie. It looks like her, doesn't it, girls?"

exclaimed Phyllis, picking up a soft, white silk gown with a Greek border of silver braid a little tarnished by time. "Isn't it just too sweet for anything?"

"It is a love of a frock," sighed Eleanor rapturously, "but I don't think it suggests any special character."

Madge frowned thoughtfully. "Oh, it doesn't make so much difference about representing a particular character, Nellie. You can go as a lady of King Arthur's time. I imagine the women wore just such gowns in the days of beauty and chivalry."

"All right," said Eleanor obediently. "There is a 'King Arthur's Knights' in the library. I'll get it and read up on the doings of the King and his subjects. Perhaps I'll find a character that will just suit me. I'm too dark to ever think of impersonating Elaine."

"I can't represent a great historical character," declared Madge, peering into the trunk--"who ever heard of a heroine with red hair and a turned-up nose?--but I am going to wear this dress." Madge held up a flowered silk of softest, palest blue, with great pale-pink roses trailing over it. It was made with a long, pointed blouse, and had little paniers over the hips. Madge slipped the gown on over her frock.

The dress had a little bag of the same silk hanging at its side and in it a dainty lace handkerchief, sweet with a far-off fragrance of lavender.

David and the three girls gazed admiringly at Madge.

"Miss Dolly Varden!" exclaimed Phil. "It is just the kind of costume that d.i.c.kens makes Dolly Varden wear in 'Barnaby Rudge.' Only Miss Jenny Ann must make you a poke bonnet. But what about poor me? I am such a dreadfully unromantic-looking person. I am not a tall, stately maiden like our rare, pale Lillian, nor a witch like Madge, nor a dainty little maid like Nellie. I am just plain Phil!" Phyllis sighed, half in jest and half in earnest.

"I know what character I want you to represent, Phyllis, darling,"

cried Madge. "There is no costume here that is very appropriate for it, but I know how to make a helmet and s.h.i.+eld out of silver paper and cardboard. And I am sure we could get up the rest of the costume."

"Whom do you mean, Madge?" inquired Phil.

"Guess. My character is a wonderfully brave girl, who sacrificed her life to save her King and her country. Just lately she has been declared a saint by her church."

David glanced up from the floor, where he was amusing little Alice.

"Joan of Arc, you mean, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I do, David. How did you guess it? I don't say that Phil looks just like the pictures of Joan of Arc, but she is like her. She would do anything in the world that she thought was right, even if she lost her life in doing it," declared her friend admiringly. "Now, Mr.

David Brewster, having arranged the costumes of four important members of the Preston household, what character will you represent?"

"My own humble self," announced David firmly. "Please don't ask me to 'dress up.' I felt like a perfect chump the night I had to rig myself up as 'Hiawatha.' I rushed up to the house and got the crazy clothes off, even before I--before I----" David stopped, then continued nervously: "Remember, the other fellows won't have time to get themselves into fancy costumes, so please let me off. I'll clear out, now, and let you girls fix up your costumes."

To save her life, Madge could not help looking curiously at David. It was the usual hour in the afternoon when the young man disappeared.

When, late that afternoon, the lad came home he had lost his cheerful mood of the morning. He was sullen and downcast. David had made up his mind that his best chance to restore the stolen property to Miss Betsey Taylor and Mrs. Preston was on the night of the fancy dress ball. The upstairs part of the house would then probably be empty, and no one would think of him or notice him. At any rate, he dared not wait longer.

As soon as Tom and the other boys returned, the houseboat party would start off up the river again in tow of the "Sea Gull," and his opportunity would be lost.

CHAPTER XXI

THE INTERRUPTION

All afternoon, just before the night of the fancy dress ball, the four girls took turns watching at the front windows of the Preston house for the belated boys. In spite of Tom's telegram, plainly stating the day of their arrival, the motor launch boys had not put in an appearance. Soon after luncheon David went down to the river bank to watch for them. At six o'clock he came back to say that he had waited as long as possible and had seen no sign of the "Sea Gull." It looked as though the boys had been delayed.

The girls were in despair. Here they had planned a wonderful surprise party for the boys, and their guests of honor were not going to be present. The young people from the nearby country houses had been invited to the dance, to begin at eight o'clock that evening, so it was quite impossible to put it off.

At half-past eight the old Virginia homestead, where belles and beaux had made merry many long years before, was gay with the voices of the invited guests. But the dancing had not yet begun. Each time the old door-bell rang the four girls hoped it meant the return of the four boys.

Under the great curved stairway the orchestra of colored musicians was tuning up. Sam, the colored boy, who had first introduced two of the houseboat girls to Mrs. Preston, was the leader of the band of six instruments. If you have never heard old-time colored people play dance music, you can hardly imagine how delightful it is. To-night Sam's orchestra was composed of six instruments, a ba.s.s violin, which he played himself, two banjos, two guitars and a tambourine.

In the long parlors that were to be used for the dancing Mr. and Mrs.

Preston stood, shaking hands with their guests. Just back of them sat Miss Betsey in her best black silk dress, and dear Miss Jenny Ann in a white silk gown, looking as young as any one of her girls. Between them was little Alice. On the other side of Miss Betsey a stately old gentleman smiled indulgently on the young people. Mr. John Randolph could no longer have been mistaken for a ghost. A few days of cheerful conversation with his old friends, good food and suns.h.i.+ne had revived him wonderfully. Mrs. Preston explained to her friends that Mr. Randolph had been living alone and, accompanied by his grand-daughter, had lately come to make them a visit.

The four girls walked about the great room, receiving their visitors, talking to them, trying to entertain them, doing everything in their power to delay the dancing, in the vain hope that their friends would still appear.

In answer to a nod from Mrs. Preston, Madge and Phil hurried to her side. "It is time to begin the dance, dears," reminded Mrs. Preston. "I am sorry that your friends have not arrived, but we can't disappoint our other guests on their account. Tell Sam to begin with an old-fas.h.i.+oned Virginia reel. It is the way we begin our dances down here in the country."

Madge slipped out in the back hall. She noticed David standing alone near the front door. He seemed shy and ill at ease. He did not know how to dance, and it was hard to pretend to be cheerful when he had such a load on his mind.

A loud ring at the front-door bell and a knock on the door startled David. He went forward to open it, but a witch of a girl in a pale blue flowered silk, her blue eyes dancing under her poke bonnet, flitted by him. "Please let me open the door, David," she entreated. "I feel just sure Tom and the other boys have come at last."

Tom Curtis stared blankly. Who was this lovely apparition that had opened the old farmhouse door for him? Was he dreaming, or had he and his friends strayed into the wrong house? There were the sounds of music and strange boys and girls were about everywhere. Tom took off his hat.

With a familiar gesture he ran his fingers through his curly light hair, making it stand on end. "Who is it, and where am I?" he asked feebly, pretending to be overcome with emotion, like the hero in a romantic play.

"Come into the house, Tom Curtis, this minute, and don't be a goose! You know perfectly well I am Madge. Only to-night I am appearing in the character of Miss Dolly Varden. We were giving you boys a surprise party, but we were afraid you would not get here in time for it. h.e.l.lo, everybody!" Madge shook hands first with Tom, and then with the other three boys. She then took Tom by one hand and her cousin, Jack Bolling, by the other. With Harry Sears and George Robinson following her, she escorted them proudly across the room to Mr. and Mrs. Preston. Lillian, Phil and Eleanor hurried to join them, tendering the belated guests an enthusiastic welcome.

"Here the young men are, at the last minute, Mrs. Preston," exclaimed Madge triumphantly. "Now our dance can really begin."

Tom leaned over to whisper in Miss Dolly Varden's ear, "You'll dance with me, won't you, Madge, for old time's sake?"

Madge nodded happily. "I have waited for you," she answered. "I felt perfectly sure you wouldn't disappoint us."

Jack Bolling asked Phyllis to dance with him, Harry Sears and Lillian were partners and Eleanor and George Robinson.

"Get your places for the Virginia reel!" Sam shouted.

Mr. and Mrs. Preston stood, each one of them at the head of a long line.

Miss Jenny Ann came next, with her partner, a man from the next farm.

The four girls were hurrying off with the motor launch boys when Madge stopped suddenly. Old Mr. John Randolph smiled at her. It was hard not to smile at Madge when she was happy.

The little captain whispered something in the old man's ear. "Do, please," she urged, "it will be such fun."