birthdays, how she had never had a party, and when they asked her she could n’t bear to say no; and how she had tried to tell her mother.
“Well,” said her mother, decidedly, “I ’ll do what I can for you; but it is a particularly inconvenient day, and I never heard of anything so inconsiderate. Now go downstairs and entertain them, and keep the parlor door shut, and send Emy and Omy to me, and tell Virginia she may leave her practising and come to me here.”
Hetty turned to start, about as cheerfully as if she had been going straight to the annual school examination. Her mother saw the downcast air and the pathetic appeal in the little girl’s eyes, and her whole mother-nature sprang to meet it. Busy and hurried as she was, her duty to the guests had been uppermost, but at that look came the thought of her duty to her own little girl. She gathered the child into a quick, close hug.
“Darling,” she said, “never mind. Don't look so mournful. Go and have a good time. Mother ’ll fix things for you.”
“Oh, mother,” gasped Hetty, “you are so good!”
And then she ran downstairs with a feeling of warm comfort around her heart which she had not known for days; and it was not many minutes before the chatter and laughter of the gay girls’ voices convinced Mrs. Macdonald that the party was well under way.
To Hetty, in the parlor, the afternoon sped away like a happy dream. She caught a glimpse of Virginia flashing past the window on her wheel, riding like mad down-town. Then all anxiety rolled off her mind and the glad buoyancy of childhood asserted itself. Everything was all right. Mother knew about it; mother would see to things. Then it seemed no time before Virginia was in the parlor, in a fresh white dress and with her hair tied at the back of her neck with a perfectly enormous white bow, pounding out two-steps with athletic precision on the piano, while the girls gaily bobbed about the room, under the impression that they were dancing. Then from some mysterious corner Virginia produced a large black-and-white map of Cinderella,—it could hardly be called a picture,— with her foot poised ready for the calico slippers which the blindfolded girls did their best to pin on it, Such joyous shrieks as they stuck them wildly on the walls and the curtains and one another, and everywhere but on the patiently poised foot! And where did Virginia get the pretty Japanese fan which Katherine Elliot waved proudly as the prize, and the red tin horn on which Gertrude lansing loudly tooted her despair at being the booby? At the sound of the horn the twins could no longer be held in leash, but burst tumultuously into the room, in their clean duck suits, and were rapturously welcomed by the girls, who thought them “too cunning for anything.”
From time to time Hetty caught sounds of rustling and the clinking of china in the dining-room behind the folding-doors. The effect was distinctly “partyish” and delightfully promising. But when the doors at last rolled back, it seemed to the little girl as if her heart would burst with its mixture of pride, gratitude, remorse, and affection, as she saw the dining-room. It was carefully darkened to give effect to the festive light of wax candles. There was her mother, dressed in her best black-lace dress, passing round the prettiest painted plates. Christine, in her pretty new pale-green mousseline, with a knot of black velvet high up in her yellow hair, was pouring chocolate into the best cups, and dropping generous “dabs” of whipped cream on lop of each one. There were the most enchanting little rolled sandwiches and brown and pink and green ice-cream. There were even crackers to pull. But the crowning glory was a massive white cake in the center of the table. Hetty instantly recognized its fluted cornice and turret as adornments she had seen in the confectioner’s window only the day before. But, wreathed with vivid nasturtiums and with thirteen red candles burning in a dazzling circle upon it, it was indeed a glittering vision.
After it was all over, and Virginia had got out her camera and “taken” the pretty group of girls in their white frocks out on the piazza, and happy Hetty bad received the last assurance of the loveliest time,” “the nicest party we ever had,” etc., and the last white frock had fluttered away, the little girl flew back to the dining-room, where her mother was busy “clearmg up.”
