What Two Children Did Part 14

"'I'll have to take you to the seash.o.r.e to play on the ----'"

"Beech," said Beth in triumph.

"Then he lighted a cigar and knocked off the ----"

"Ash," said Ethelwyn.

"And walked down street, whistling a song from 'Mikado.' t.i.t ----"

"Willow," they both cried at once, for they knew that song as well as the tree.

"You have done well," said mother, "but you each have two fines to pay, and it really is your turn next time; so you must remember to think up a game. But here we are at home, and there is 'Vada coming out to meet us."

"O, 'Vada, what has happened since we went away?" said Ethelwyn, climbing out.

"Mista Bobby gwine to give a party this ebenin'; it's his birthday, and his uncle brought him some fiah works like those you all had las' yeah,"

said 'Vada.

"O goody! did he invite us?"

"Nome, not to say invite. But he's been in to see if you all was expected home."

"O, it won't matter," said Beth easily; "we'll go anyway. Of course he knew we would come."

When Nan came over, she brought her invitation with her. It was very formally enclosed in a small envelope, and informed his friend that Bobby would be at home on that very evening.

This struck Beth as very silly.

"Of course he'll be at home if he's going to give a party! Just as though he'd be anywhere else!" she remarked.

They wished to go over immediately and tell Bobby that they were home and all ready to be invited, but their mother would not allow this.

"He will come over by and by," she said. But the day went by and no invitation came, although great preparations were going on, as they could see, for they kept very near the window that looked out on Bobby's lawn. A slow drizzling rain was falling, or they would probably have been much nearer. But Bobby was evidently very busy getting ready. They caught only flying glimpses of him, and their hearts grew heavy within their b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"O dear! I shall never, never get over this, never!" said Beth, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I wouldn't have thought Bobby could have done it," said Ethelwyn, also swallowing.

After their bath, they begged for their best slippers, silk stockings, and embroidered petticoats, and on having their hair done in their dress-up-and-go-away-from-home style. "Because," said Ethelwyn, "something may happen yet to make him think of us."

So mother let them have on what they liked, for she was very sorry for them.

In the evening, after dinner, when the electric lights came flas.h.i.+ng out, it was worse, because, still standing forlornly by the window, they saw the orchestra come, with their instruments, and presently the sounds of music came floating up to them. Then the ice cream man came, and Beth, who had almost melted to tears at the sight of the orchestra, shed them openly when the ice cream went around the side of the house.

Having no handkerchief, she wiped her eyes on Soosana, her big rag doll.

She always loved Soosana when she was unhappy, for she was so squeezy and felt so comfortable.

"I hope Bobby will be sorry when he has time to think about it," she remarked in a subdued tone.

"Look at that!" said Ethelwyn in such a hopeful voice that Beth at once emerged from her eclipse behind Soosana, and looked with all her eyes.

There was Bobby, resplendent in a new suit and slippers with s.h.i.+ning buckles, running across the lawn.

Ethelwyn and Beth at once pushed up the window, in order to meet him half-way.

"Do you want us, Bobby?" called Beth encouragingly.

"Yes; why on earth don't you come?" cried Bobby. "We are all ready to dance and Nan and everybody but you, are there, and I wouldn't let 'em begin till you came, so hurry up."

"We will," they cried in a breath, "and we would have come a long time ago if you only hadn't forgotten to invite us till so late. What made you, Bobby?"

"Why I didn't!" said Bobby in a surprised tone. "I took your invitation over to your front door and--and--your bell is pretty high up--"

"Yes, I can't reach it at all," said Beth breathlessly; "go on."

"So I shoved it under the door--"

Ethelwyn disappeared like a flash, and, sure enough, under the carpet's edge she could see sticking out the little white corner of the envelope. She knelt down and pulled it out, then ran back.

"We'll come right over in a minute, Bobby," she called happily. "We're pretty nearly all dressed for fear you'd remember you had forgotten--"

"All right, hurry up," called up Bobby.

Down on the floor went Soosana, all damp with tears, but she still smiled broadly at the ceiling in the dark. She probably did not, if the truth were known, quite enjoy being used as a handkerchief, but she felt it was her mission in this life to act as comforter, and so she bore it with cheerfulness. The next morning she was told by happy, though sleepy, Beth that it was a "beyewtiful party, with fireworks, and ice cream, and dancing, and games, and souvenirs. I should never have been so happy again, Soosana, if I had missed going, I know," she concluded, kissing Soosana with such fervor, that she put a dent in that portion of her doll's head where she had been kissed; but this time Soosana was sure she did not care.

_CHAPTER XVI_ _The Mail and Ethelwyn's Visit_

Good-bye, speed by Days till we meet again.

Hearts' ease, ne'er cease, Keep free from fret or pain.

There had come an interesting mail that morning, for it began with another letter from Cousin Gladys, who was in London now for the winter, and there was also one from Aunty Stevens and from Grandmother Van Stark. While the two children ate their oatmeal and cream, they read their cousin's letter. This was it:

"DEAR COUSINS:

"We have seen the Coronation, and my eyes ached, there was so much to see and do. It was worse than a circus with six rings.

"The King is not pretty, but I suppose that won't hinder him from being good, and nurse is always saying, 'Pretty is that pretty does, Miss Gladys.' I think she thinks that the two hardly ever go together. The dear Queen is pretty, however, and so young-looking and sweet that even nurse has to give in about her.

"I will tell you all about it when we come home, but it tires me now even to think about it. One morning I begged to go back to the hotel and rest, and nurse was so disappointed that I told her she could go out and I would stay alone. I dug around in my trunk and got rather homesick, looking at the things I had at home. I found some jacks but no ball, so I thought I would go down to a near-by shop, and buy one. I slipped down and out, before I had time to think about mother making me promise not to go anywhere alone. I turned a corner or two, but didn't find the right kind of a shop.

It was cloudy, and sort of foggy, and crowds and crowds of people were pus.h.i.+ng along. I knew all at once that I was lost, and I began to feel a lump in my throat, bigger than any ball you ever saw, and just then I saw a tall man coming towards me. I saw only his legs, but they looked so Americanish that I rushed up, and said, 'Please take me to the L---- Hotel,' He stopped at once and said, 'Well, I certainly will; I am going there myself.' He was a minister from New York. He laughed when I told him about the jacks, and then he talked to me in such a nice way about going out alone, that it made a great impression on me. I found mother and nurse in such a state when I got back. I was kissed and then put to bed to eat my supper, but the minister came to call in the evening, and when I had promised never to do such a thing again, they let me get up. He was so nice, and brought me a ball. I play jacks every day now, and think of America and nice 'things like that. I shall be glad to get there again.

"Yours truly,

"GLADYS.

"P.S.--I can probably beat you at jacks when I get back, I practice so much."