CHAPTER XIII A RIDICULOUS PARTY
Stella came early, and Ladybird was tempted to confide in her, andperhaps ask her to enlighten Aunt Priscilla.
But the child's sense of the dramatic was too strong for this, andnotwithstanding her own precarious position, she preferred to wait andlet the whole remarkable situation burst unheralded upon her unsuspectingaunts.
And it proved to be worth while; for the expression on Miss PriscillaFlint's patrician countenance as she saw a motley crowd coming in at herfront gate was never forgotten either by Ladybird or Stella.
The guests had been bidden to come at three o'clock, and as they obeyedwith scrupulous promptness, the greater part of the party arrived all atonce. As they came up the path, Ladybird grasped the situation with bothhands, and turning to her Aunt Priscilla, said:
"This is my party, aunty, that is coming in, and I hope they will likeyou. I did as you told me: I invited those who would enjoy it most, and Ialso followed the Bible command, 'If you must make a feast, make it forthe poor, and the halt, and the maimed, and the blind'; and if you canfind anybody poorer or maimeder or halter than these people, I don't knowwhere they are. I am now going to open the front door and admit myguests, and I expect them to receive the welcome of Primrose Hall; andfor goodness' sake, aunty, brace up!"
The last admonition was by no means unnecessary, for Miss Flint certainlylooked as if she were about to fall in a faint.
"Did you know of this?" she demanded, turning to Stella, who stood by,uncertain whether to laugh or sympathize.
"No," said the girl; "I knew nothing of it, and I don't understand ityet; but I think, Miss Flint, you will be glad afterward, if you rise tothe occasion and show to these friends of Ladybird's, whoever they maybe, the hospitality for which Primrose Hall is so justly famous."
Now Primrose Hall was not famous for its hospitality; indeed, the reversewas nearer the truth. But Stella's remark touched the old lady's pride,and she answered:
"Hospitality is all very well, but it does not mean inviting a parcel ofpaupers to come in and make themselves at home in one's house."
"No," said Stella, soothingly; "but since Ladybird has asked thesepeople, and apparently from good and honest motives, is it not your dutyto uphold your niece, at least before strangers?"
"No, it is not!" said Miss Priscilla, angrily. "My niece can bear theconsequences of her own rash act. I'm going to order those people out ofmy house at once! Where is Dorinda? Does she know of this outrage?"
Just then Miss Dorinda appeared from the dining-room. She was flushed,but smiling, and her face wore a satisfied expression which betokenedthat all was well in the commissariat department.
Her smile faded as she caught sight of Miss Priscilla's face; but beforethat irate lady could say a word, Ladybird came in from the front hall,marshaling her guests in a decorous line to be presented.
The widow Taylor came first, and she held a twin on either arm. TheTaylor children were about a year old and of strenuous disposition.
Ladybird's eyes were dancing with excitement, but with a demurepoliteness that had in it a charming touch of gentle courtesy sheintroduced Mrs. Taylor to her aunts.
The widow was of the affably helpless type, and encumbered as she waswith fidgety impedimenta, found herself unable to offer the hand offellowship.
"I'm glad to meet you," she said, earnestly looking the Misses Flint intheir stony faces; "and if you'll just hold these children a minute, I'llshake hands, and then I'll take my bonnet off, for this long veil isdreadfully in the way, and the babies do pull at it so!"
While Mrs. Taylor talked she distributed her offspring impartiallybetween her two hostesses, and as the visitor's movements were farquicker than the Flint ladies' wits, Miss Priscilla and Miss Dorinda eachfound herself with a fat, roly-poly baby securely seated in the angle ofher thin, stiff old left arm.
It may have been that some latent chord was touched in the hearts of thegood ladies, or it may have been that their muscles were actuallyparalyzed with amazement, but at any rate they did not let the babiesdrop to the floor, as Ladybird confidently expected they would.
Having shaken hands politely, Mrs. Taylor proceeded to take off herbonnet, talking all the while in a casually conversational manner.
"Nice and neat, isn't it?" she said, viewing with satisfaction the tinybonnet which only served as a starting-point for the long black crapeveil and a resting-place for the full white crape ruche. "I don't oftenget a chance to wear it; but I'm so fond of it; it's my greatestconsolation since Mr. Taylor died. I call it my cloud with the silverlining."
Stella took the precious bonnet from Mrs. Taylor's hands, promising toput it safely away, and by that time Ladybird was presenting the elderMr. Harris.
Though the old soldier was disabled and poor, he was a courtly gentlemanof the old school and greeted the ladies with a quiet comprehension ofhis own dignity and theirs. Moreover, Richard Harris had been a friend ofthe Flint ladies in their youth, and though circumstances had pushed themfar apart, a few slender threads of memory still held.
Ignoring their squirming left-armfuls, Major Harris shook hands with thePrimrose ladies, and then, with the aid of his crutches, limped away.
It seemed a pathetic coincidence that his grandson Dick, who followedhim, should also be on crutches, especially as his lameness lacked thepatriotic glory of his grandfather's.
Dick Harris was frankly delighted with the whole occasion, and did nothesitate to say so. He shook hands vigorously with the Misses Flint, andhis face beamed as he expressed his gratitude for their invitation.
"But you ladies oughtn't to be holdin' them heavy kids," he said. "I wishI could take 'em, but I can't. Here, Jim Blake and Tom Tuckerman, youtake these infants away from the ladies, so's they can shake handsdecent."
Apparently the lame boy's word was law, for the two boys he had called,though looking a little embarrassed, darted up and secured the twins withan awkward but efficacious clutch.
Miss Leech and Sam Scott were then presented together.
Ladybird didn't do this for the logical reason that two half-wittedpeople ought to count as one, but because she was impatient to get theintroductions over with and begin the party.
Miss Leech wandered a little, confused the ladies' names, and asked MissPriscilla if she had paid off her mortgage yet. Sam Scott wandered agreat deal, and grasping Miss Priscilla's hand, shook it up and downcontinuously, while he babbled, "Beautiful day, beautiful day, beautiful,beautiful day, beautiful day, beautiful--"
He was still expressing his opinion of the weather when Stella led himaway and seated him in a corner with a picture-book to look at.
By this time Miss Priscilla had reached that state of mind which can onlybe described as the obstupefaction of the tumultuous. Her brain wasbenumbed by rapid and successive emotions, and as the climax of each hadproved absurdly inadequate to the situation, Miss Priscilla was perforcein a condition of helpless docility, and Ladybird recognized this, andwas not slow to take advantage of it.
Realizing that her aunt had interests, or at least memory, in common withMajor Harris, she contrived to establish the two on a comfortable oldsofa, where, despite the differences of the present, they were soon lostin the past.
Then Ladybird, with her natural talent for generalship, but with a tactand ability really beyond her years, arranged her other guests to thehappy satisfaction of each.
Miss Dorinda found herself entertaining, or rather being entertained by,Mrs. Taylor, and each of these ladies held one of the romping twins, andactually seemed to enjoy it.
Miss Leech required no entertaining save to be allowed to wander about atwill, touching with timid, delicate fingers the ornaments or curios aboutthe room, and making happy, though inarticulate, comments upon them.
Then Ladybird and Stella devoted themselves to the amusement of the restof the guests, who were all children and easily pleased by playing gamesor listening to St
ella while she sang funny songs to her banjoaccompaniment.
During one of these songs, Ladybird slipped out to the kitchen in searchof Martha and Bridget, who were as yet unacquainted with the character ofthe Primrose Hall guests.
"I expect they'll raise Cain," she said to herself; "but I feel likeAlexander to-day, and I'd just as soon conquer a few more worlds as not.
"Martha," she began in a conciliatory tone, though determination lurkedbeneath her eyelashes, "the people who have come to my party are not theones I expected to invite at first. They're--they're different."
"Yes, miss," said Martha, impassively.
"And two of them are lame, Martha, and two of them are babies, and two ofthem are not quite right in their heads."
"Luny, miss?"
"Well, yes; I think you might call it that," said Ladybird, gravelyconsidering the case. Then after a pause she added, "And Martha, we'llhave to fix high chairs for the babies; put cushions in the chairs, youknow, or dictionaries, or something."
"Did your aunts invite these people, miss?" said Martha, suspecting, morefrom Ladybird's manner than her words, that there was something toward.
"I invited them," said Ladybird, with one of her sudden, but oftenuseful, accessions of dignity, "and my aunts are at present entertainingthem. You'll see about the high chairs, won't you Martha?"
In reality, Ladybird's strong friend and ally, Martha, was alwaysvanquished by the child's dazzling smile, and she answered heartily,"Indeed I will, miss; you'll find everything in the dining-room allright."
Reassured, Ladybird went back to the parlor, to find her party stillgoing on beautifully. Stella's graceful tact and ready ingenuity were thebest assistance Ladybird could have had, and the child gave a sigh ofrelief as she thought to herself she had certainly succeeded in invitingthe ones who would enjoy it the most.
At five o'clock supper was served. Although the technical details of thetable proved a trying ordeal to most of the guests (indeed, only thehalf-witted ones were wholly at ease), yet the delicious viands, and thekind-hearted dispensers of them, went far toward establishing a generalharmony.
The guests took their leave punctually at six o'clock, as they had beeninvited to do, and Miss Priscilla's parting words to each evinced amental attitude entirely satisfactory to Ladybird.
"Though I wish, Lavinia," she said much later, after they had discussedthe affair in its every particular--"I _do_ wish that when you are aboutto cut up these fearfully unexpected performances of yours you would warnus beforehand."
"I will, aunty," said Ladybird, with a most lamb-like docility of manner,"if you'll promise to agree to them as amiably beforehand as you doafterward."