It was with Polly and Rose that Sprite was happiest. She liked Lena and Leslie, and all the others.
The boys were her trusted friends, and she looked forward to a gay winter with these new friends. One sunny morning Uncle John Atherton, with Rose in the motor beside him, drove over to Sherwood Hall to call for Polly and Sprite.
"We're going for a long ride, Rose, so tell Polly and Sprite to take their coats."
They were soon ready, and running down the walk, their coats on their arms.
"Where are we going?" they cried, as they reached the sidewalk. Without waiting for an answer they clambered into the car.
"Where are we going?" they asked again. "Oh, let's all three sit on one seat!"
Uncle John turned to look at the three eager faces.
"Well, well! What a lucky man I am!" he cried. "Three fine young ladies all out for a ride with me. Are you ready?"
"All ready!" cried the merry chorus, "but where are we going?"
"Nowthat'smy secret," Uncle John said, with a laugh, "but I will say that some business took me to a very charming place this morning, and I thought I'd like company on the way. I trust you're willing to go?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" cried three laughing voices.
"Then we'll start at once," said Uncle John, as if he had been waiting in order to be re-assured.
Over the road they flew, talking and laughing gaily.
"Rose, do you know where we're going?" Polly asked.
"Oh, her Uncle John would tell her," said Sprite.
"Hedidn't" declared Rose, then; "didyou, Uncle John?" she cried.
"I certainly did not tell Rose," he said, "and after another half hour has passed, you three little friends must commence to look about you, and see if you see anything that looks at all familiar."
"Tell us when the half hour is up," said Polly, "and we'll begin looking."
They were soon running along country roads, where men were busy in the fields, and where early fall wild flowers bordered the roads.
Then in a brief space, they began to miss the wild flowers, and to notice bold bits of ledge, the roads became more sandy, and as they swung around a bend, they caught a glimpse of the sea.
"Cliffmore! Oh, it's Cliffmore!" cried Sprite her hands tightly clasped, and her eyes bright as stars.
"Isn'tit Cliffmore, Mr. Atherton?" she asked, her little hand patting his shoulder nervously, as she waited his reply.
He stopped the car, and turned to gaze up into the lovely, eager face.
Sprite, standing, her long golden hair blowing back from her face, looked for all the world like a sea fairy. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked out across the sea that she loved so well.
Then she turned to find his kind brown eyes looking up at her, as if he were about to speak.
"Dear little girl, I have indeed brought you to Cliffmore. I was obliged to come here on a little business trip to look after some of my property, and I took you for sweet company, and because I thought we'd give two very dear people who live at the 'Syren's Cave,' a great surprise."
"Oh, I hope father isn't out on the water," cried Sprite. "Mother will be there, but I want to see them both!"
"I looked out for that," was the cheery reply, "and I wrote to tellCaptain Seaford that I should call upon him to-day. I did not say thatI should bring some callers with me."
"Oh, what fun!" cried Polly.
"Won'tthey be surprised?" said Rose.
Uncle John turned from the road, and out onto the beach.
The tide was low, and they bowled along over the hard white sand, little Sprite sitting with her hands tightly clasped, and her eyes riveted upon the distant speck that she knew to be her home, while Rose on one side, and Polly on the other, closely watched her pretty, eager face.
Captain Seaford, sitting just outside the door, was endeavoring to mend a net, but constant watching for the coming of Captain Atherton made the task of mending progress slowly.
"I must spunk up a little," he said, "for I want to use this net," but in spite of his resolve, he was soon watching, as before, for the coming of his friend.
At last he arose from the low stool on which he had been sitting, throwing the net down in a heap on the sand.
Mrs. Seaford, seated indoors, was busy, her needle flying in and out, darning one of the captain's socks.
"I can't keep my mind on my work," he said. "I tie a knot, and then look up to see if John Atherton is in sight. I never acted like that before. I'm always glad to see him, but for some strange reason, I can't wait patiently for him to arrive."
"I'm doing the same thing," his wife said. "I can't keep my mind on this mending. I take three stitches and then look out of the window. Isn't it strange?"
The honking of a horn made them hasten to the door.
They saw the big car, they dimly saw Captain Atherton, Polly, and Rose, but with startling clearness they saw the one thing on earth that they held most dear,—little Sprite.
She sprang from the car and ran to them, and what a greeting she received!
Captain Seaford declared that it was the sunlight that made his eyes water, but gentle Mrs. Seaford made no excuse for her tear-wet lashes.
When the first excitement was over, they were invited to come in and rest in the quaint living-room of the Seafords' home.
"I thought when I read your letter, Captain Seaford, that you and your wife were missing little Sprite even more than you had dreamed possible. I have watched Sprite closely, and sometimes I have thought that she was homesick. If we make the trip once a fortnight, we shall all be happier."
"Including yourself, John Atherton," said Captain Seaford, "for I know you as well as you know yourself. You are never quite content, unless planning pleasure for others. Oh, I know it, and it's no use to deny what I say."
"As Captain Atherton is a truthful man, he's not likely to deny it," said Mrs. Seaford, "and now if you will all enjoy a shore dinner, I'll ask you to be my guests."
"I know of nothing more tempting," Captain Atherton said, and then, because he believed that Mrs. Seaford would enjoy an hour when she could have Sprite quite by herself, he took Rose and Princess Polly over to "The Cliffs," where they might amuse themselves, while he inspected the work that was being done.
The time passed swiftly, and when Polly and Rose had seen all the places about the house where they had played during the summer, and Uncle John had satisfied himself that repairs that were being made wholly pleased him, they found that it was about the time that Mrs. Seaford had set for their return.
"Come, ladies," he said, and they ran down the driveway, laughing and talking, and soon in the big car, were spinning down the beach.
As they drew near to the "Syren's Cave," Captain Seaford at the door, sounded a long, sweet note on the horn. Polly and Rose waved their handkerchiefs, and Sprite ran out to greet them.
It was a sunny day, with a fresh, cool breeze blowing from the East, and when they were seated around the table, the big tureen filled with hot chowder seemed just what their keen appetites craved.
Boiled fish, garnished with cress followed the chowder, and simple pudding, served with cream, furnished the dessert.
It surely was not an elaborate dinner, but to the guests it seemed the finest treat that they had ever enjoyed.
The long ride in the fresh breeze had made them eager for the noon meal, and the sea food, daintily cooked, was a feast.
They lingered at the table, and Mrs. Seaford, and the three little friends listened, and laughed at the merry stories that the two sea captains told.
They were all in the big car when Captain Atherton said:
"Oh, now I think of it; there's a package, and a basket in this car that I meant to leave here, if you'll kindly store them for me."
Captain Seaford, never guessing what the parcel, or big basket contained, answered heartily:
"Of course I'll store them for you, dear friend, as long as you like," and he hastened to take them, carrying them into the house.
"Good-byes" had been said, when John Atherton turned to say:
"Oh, will you please open the parcel, and the basket. They're too tightly wrapped, I think."
"Ah, I know now that 'tis for myself you wish me to store the heavy parcel, and the loaded basket. The heart within thy brave breast is bigger, and warmer than that of any man I ever knew."
It was as Captain Seaford had said.
When, with his wife beside him, he opened the basket, he found it filled with luscious fruit, beneath which lay a huge parcel of sugar.
In the big bundle that the sturdy captain had found it a task to tug to the house, was another large bag of sugar, a bag of flour, a parcel containing beans, a giant squash, and tea and coffee.
"Could he possibly know that at just this time, these gifts are especially welcome?" Mrs. Seaford asked.
"I can't imagine how he could find that out, but surely they could not have come at a better time," was the earnest reply.
He turned to hide the tears that had sprung to his honest eyes, when, for the first time, he saw a large firkin, set just inside the door, and, as if to keep it company, a large sack leaned against it. The firkin, as the captain had called it, proved to be a huge tub of fine butter, and the sack was filled with potatoes.
A card was pinned to the sack.
"These few articles I leave instead of my card.John."
"Ah, John Atherton, faithful friend, may every blessing be thine," said Mrs. Seaford, with trembling lips, to which Captain Seaford, gently breathed, "Amen."
On the inside of the cover of the butter tub was tacked this note:
"A load of coal for winter comfort will arrive this afternoon. Icouldn'tbring it in the auto. John."
"And see him make a joke by saying that he couldn't bring it in the auto!" said Captain Seaford, "and thus try to make light of his generosity. He doesn't blind us to his great goodness, though. He's one man of a thousand!"
In the auto the three playmates were gaily talking, singing snatches of blithe little songs, as they sped along the beach, on the way to Avondale.
"I've loved to be with you before this trip," said Sprite, "but sometimes I've longed to see home, but now that I'm to go there every fortnight I'll be gay, and happy all the time. Oh, Mr. Atherton, I thank you for promising that!"
"And in return, little Sprite, I'll ask a favor," he said. "Call me'Uncle John,' just as Rose does, and Polly does the same."
"Oh, I will, Iwill!" she cried. "I've always wanted to."
"You will feel more at home with an uncle so near," he said, gently.
* * * * * * * *
Already the boys and girls of Avondale were talking of the opening of school. Of all the eager ones, Sprite Seaford was the most excited. Her mother's careful training had fitted her for a class among girls of her own age, but she did not know that.
She hoped that she might be in the class with Princess Polly, and Rose, but wherever her place in school might be, she was eager for the "first day" to arrive.
One morning Polly and Sprite were on the piazza, before breakfast, and after pacing up and down for a while, they went down the steps, and around behind the house to search for Sir Mortimer.
"He's sometimes in under the bushes taking a nap," said Polly, and they crouched to look under the shrubbery. An ear-piercing screech made them spring to their feet, and there, flying down the road, was Gyp, tearing along as if in fright, but what could so have startled wild, careless Gyp?
He did not stop running, nor did he slacken his pace, but looking straight ahead, as if not daring to look back, to learn if he were followed, he raced down the street, fear plainly showing in every movement of his thin wiry legs.
"Whatcouldhave frightened him?" Polly asked. Sprite could not guess.
Now, slowly going over his beat a patrolman passed, walking along as if haste were a thing unheard of.
"That'swhat made him run!" cried Princess Polly.
"What? The policeman!" cried Sprite. "Why he isn't chasing him."
"Of course he isn't," Polly replied, "but Gyp is so afraid of any one of the policemen in this town, that he runs screaming just like that the minute he sees one."
Together they watched, until Gyp was out of sight.
"They say folks here in Avondale are going tomakeGyp go to school," said Polly, "but I shouldn't think they could do it, and if theycould, just think how he'd act!"
"I can't think," said Sprite, her eyes dancing, "but I know I'll like to watch him the first day."
"We couldn't watch him if we wanted to because he wouldn't be in our room," Polly said.
"Well, then he'll be above us, because he's bigger than we are," saidSprite. Polly laughed as she said;
"Oh, no he won't. He'sneverbeen to school but a few months, as big as he is. He'll be in some class below us."
"Why, then he'll be withlittlechildren," said Sprite, "and won't he look funny when he's such a big boy?"
"Well, that's where he'll have to be,ifthey can make him go!"
One Saturday morning, Rose skipped along the sidewalk on the way to Aunt Judith's cottage. Her cheeks were very pink, and her eyes were bright.
Uncle John was to take her with him in the big automobile that afternoon, and they were to call, he said, on a very dear friend of his.
"Do I know her?" Rose had asked.
"Youwill, when you see her," was the laughing reply.
"Is it some one I've seen?" she asked, her face alight with interest.
"Yes, and no," Uncle John said.
"And that is all I'll tell you," he continued, "because I'd like you to recognize her at once, without any hint from me."
"And I'll enjoy the forenoon with Aunt Judith," she said as she opened the little gate.
Aunt Judith, sitting by the window saw her coming, and hastened to the door.
"I've been watching a half hour to see you push open the gate, and come in," she said.
"Oh, Aunt Judith! I'm not late," Rose said, "for look! I said I'd come over here at nine, and it's just nine by your clock."
"Dear child, you are very prompt, and the only reason that I sat watching is because I wanted to see you the moment you came in sight. Now take off your things," she said, "and then we'll sit down, and talk over the plans for our party."
Rose was delighted. What little girl wouldn't be?
"First of all, dear, I had a great surprise this morning. A very great surprise, and your Uncle John Atherton gave it to me."
"Oh, Uncle John is always doing something nice, forsomebody!" criedRose.
"I never knew how good, how kind he could be," Aunt Judith said, brushing away a happy tear. "He came here one evening, and said he'd come to cheer me, and he certainly succeeded. We talked a little while, and in his pleasant way he questioned me, trying to learn if I was feeling prosperous. I didn't like to tell him, but hemademe, and Rose, my cellar is stocked with all the wood and coal that I could use this Winter. There are winter vegetables, apples, two big hams, a barrel of flour,—Rose! I never felt so rich in all my life! Think of it! Winter coming, and my cellar full!"
"Oh, Aunt Judith! Do you wonder that I love him?"
"Who could help it?" was the eager question, "And that's not all, for with the idea that he hadn't doneenough, this morning when I opened my back door a neat looking little maid stood there.
"I'm sent here, m'am, by your relative, Mr. Atherton, who says I'm to work for you until you get tired of me, which he says m'am, he hopes won't be soon."
"I was tired this morning and when I found a little maid engaged to do my work for me, I couldn't speak for a moment, because I was so full of thanks, that theyalmostchoked me."
"Now, you can stay in the dear little sitting-room, while the work in the kitchen is being done for you. No wonder you feel rich," cried Rose.
"And now," said Aunt Judith, "we'll talk about the party."
"Wait just a minute, 'til I get my little stool. There!NowI'll listen, and I'mwildto hear."
"I wish this party to be as nearly as possible like the one that I enjoyed when I was little. First of all, I shall make some draperies for these windows of flowered chintz. I found a whole piece up in my store room the other day, and its gay flowered pattern looked very like the curtains in the home I so well remember. There are fine old hand-made rugs in the store room. I've never cared for them, but now I know that they will look right with the flowered chintz curtains. Now come and see what I have here in this little cupboard."
"There! Won't these look bright and pretty on my mantel?" she asked.
"Oh, lovely! Lovely!" cried Rose. "Where did you get them, and what are they called?"
"They are called candelabra, and are really ornamental candlesticks. These clear, finely cut pendants of glass will catch and reflect light. We'll play old-fashioned games, we'll have an old-fashioned treat, and we'll wear real old-time costumes. It will not be a grand party, but I believe the children will enjoy it, for it will, at least, be different from any party that they have ever attended."
Aunt Judith worked all the morning, stitching the hems for the chintz curtains, and Rose pulled out the bastings, threaded needles, and in many ways helped to make the pretty things for the little front parlor.
"If it wasn't for school I could come again Monday and help you," Rose said.
"I shall easily do all that is needed," Aunt Judith replied, "for now I have a little maid, I have more time for myself, and she said she would be pleased to help me decorate for the party. I think she really wishes to have a part in the preparations."
"You have beautiful old china," said Rose, "and the boys and girls will like the nice things served on such pretty plates."
"Now, go into the next room, and see what I left hanging over a chair.You may try it on, and then come out here, and let me see you," AuntJudith said.
"What fun!" cried Rose, and she laughed gaily as she ran to "try on" the quaint costume.
"Oh, the beautiful dress!" she said when she saw the dainty frock that Aunt Judith had chosen for her. She quickly removed her own dress, and soon she was looking at her reflection in the mirror. She took the hand mirror, that she might see the back of the costume.
The little maid peeped in. She, too, had been trying on the quaint dress that Aunt Judith intended her to wear.
And when at last the little clock chimed the hour at which she had promised to leave the cottage that she might be at home to lunch with Uncle John, she said "goodbye," and ran down the path, her mind filled with thoughts of the promised party, and of the delight of her playmates when they should be entertained by Aunt Judith, and for the first time, be a part of an old-fashioned party.
Uncle John was on the broad piazza waiting for her, and together they went in to lunch. Later, in the big automobile, they rode in a different direction from any that Rose had ever travelled over, and she looked up at Uncle John, as if she were wondering if he had forgotten that there was a call to be made before they turn homeward.
He turned to the right, and then, after a short ride, drove up a long private avenue bordered with odd, foreign-looking trees. Although the foliage was gone, one could see by the form of the trunk and branches that they were not the trees usually seen at Avondale. The house, a stately homestead, stood well back from the street, and the porch, with its colonial pillars, gave grandeur to the entrance. And when they were seated in the handsome parlor, Rose looked about her, and wondered who it might be that Uncle John had brought her to see.
A slight sound, a rustling of silken drapery, and a young woman, lovely as a vision, entered, offered her hand to Captain Atherton, and then turning, she looked at the little girl whose brown eyes told of admiration.
"And this, John, is Rose? Little Rose Atherton?"
"This truly is my little Rose. And now, Rose, this is Miss Iris Vandmere, and I wish you two to be the best of friends. Tell me, do you remember if you have ever met her, or seen her before to-day?"
"Oh, yes,yes!" cried Rose. "She is the lovely lady in the locket picture, Iknowshe is!"
"I am, indeed, the girl in the locket miniature, and now, as you have seen me before coming here, don't look upon me as a stranger. I want you to learn to like me, dear."
There was pleading in the sweet voice, and Rose took the slender white hand in hers.
"I won't have to learn tolikeyou, because Iloveyou now. Anyone would love you, you are so sweet, so bright to look at," Rose said, and Iris bent her lovely head, and kissed the upturned face.
* * * * * * * *
"Oh, Uncle John! Therenever was, therenever will beanyone so dear, so lovely," sighed Rose, when they were once more in the automobile. "See how sweet she looks, waving her hand to us! When will you take me to her again?"
"Rose, little girl, you have pleased me to-day, and you shall often go with me to the beautiful old house, to see the beautiful girl who lives there. As I said this afternoon, I wish you to be the best of friends."
* * * * * * * *
Of course the news of Aunt Judith's party flew through the neighborhood, and many were the questions that Rose was asked to answer.
To each, she shook her curly head, and made the same reply.
"Aunt Judith intends it to be quaint, and everything will be old-fashioned, and we are all to wear real old-time costumes, but that is all I will tell you, because Aunt Judith wishes it to seem quaint, and a bit of a surprise when you come. It won't be any surprise at all if I tell you all about it now."
"Don't you tell it, Rose, not even to me," said Princess Polly.
"Nor me!" cried Sprite.
"If she's kind enough to plan a party for us children, we ought to let her have it just as she wishes it to be."
Gyp sat upon the wall, listening to all that was being said. He was full of mischief, and often he had annoyed Aunt Judith with his pranks.
"She's agoin' ter make a party fer 'em!" he said to himself.
He still sat on the wall, swinging his skinny legs when those who had stood talking of the event had walked together down the street. Polly and Sprite had lagged behind to talk with Rose until a maid had called to Polly that Mrs. Sherwood wished them to come in.
Rose turned toward home, and was humming as she walked along, when she heard her name called softly.
She looked up and down the street. Then she saw Gyp.
"Do you know who called me?" she asked.
"Yep!" he answered, pertly.
"Well, who did?" queried Rose.
"I did," he said, watching her closely. "I axed yer is she going ter have abigparty?"
"She can't. It would be too costly, and the cottage is too small, but she is generous and kind to give us any party at all, and oh, Gyp!" she cried, moving nearer to him, "Idowish you wouldn't tease her."
Gyp wriggled.
"She said she hated me!" he said.
"Well, shemighthave been angry, but she likes boys. I've heard her say so," Rose replied.
"I ain't just a boy. I'm aGypsyboy. That'sdifferent."
"Princess Polly is always kind to her, and Iknowit would please her if you stopped teasing Aunt Judith," Rose said.
That was just the thing to have said!
Gyp was determined to win Polly's approval at all costs. He sprang from the low wall, and rushed off to the old shanty that his family called "home."
There he found an old basket, and rushing off into the heart of the woods, he returned with a quantity of fine shellbarks that he had gathered and hoarded. Two days before the party was to occur he obtained a flour bag, no one knew how, emptied the basket of nuts into it, filling it about three-quarters full.
Long and hard he labored over the note that he tied to the bag. Sneaking to the back door of the cottage, he dropped the bag on the upper step, gave a tremendous knock, and then raced off to the woods.
Aunt Judith was more than half afraid to open the big bag, but finally, gathering courage, she cut the string, and then peeped in.
The laboriously written note fell to the floor. She picked it up, and for a moment, stared at it in great surprise.
"Ter Missis Ant Joodith Im sory ive evir plagd yer an them nutts is 4 yor party coss I want yer ter no I meen whut i say. Arftur this I wil tri hard ter be yor frend,
"Gyp."
"Well, of all things!" she cried, when at last she had made sense out of the fearfully spelled note.
"Poor, wild Gyp! Who ever dreamed that he had a heart or a conscience! Indeed he shall be my friend if that will keep him from annoying me, and perhaps I can find a way to befriend him.
"Everyone is ready to lift a hand against him, so that there is nothing to tempt him to be really good, nor to encourage him to try.
"Strange little Arab! I wonder what prompted him to give his store of nuts to me, and really that fearfully spelled note has a bit of sincerity in it. I must tell John Atherton about it. I'll keep the note, and show it to him."
Often she paused to take the note from its retreat behind the clock, read it, and replace it. She looked from the window whenever she passed it, but not a glimpse of Gyp did she obtain.
She could not imagine what had caused the little imp to leave his gift of nuts at her door, or yet more wonderful, what had prompted him to write his friendly little note. Its outrageous spelling was droll, but its kindly spirit was evident. He had attended school because he was compelled to, but he had paid but little attention to his books.
The note had kept him busy for fully a half hour, and he considered it a fine specimen of letter writing when it was completed.
He thought that few boys could have done better, and he felt that in writing it, he had literally "covered himself with glory."
The flowered chintz draperies hung at the windows, the pink roses, and green leaves on its shiny surface looked fairly gaudy. The candles danced and flickered in the candelabra, evergreen framed every picture on the walls.
Aunt Judith's quaint sofa and chairs had always been covered with crimson repp, and the color seemed brighter in the evening light.
The old hand-made rugs looked quaint upon the floor, and the logs in the grate burned gaily, as if anticipating the arrival of the little guests.
Of all the fine, quaint things in the room, Aunt Judith was surely the finest, and the quaintest. Her gown was of old-time print, a white ground upon which bouquets of pansies, purple and yellow, had been finely printed. Her black eyes were bright with excitement, and in her glossy black hair, she had placed an old silver comb.
Her sleeves were elbow length, and she wore long black silk mitts. She had made her toilette with great care, and she now stood on the hearth rug, nervously opening and shutting a small folding fan.
The little maid peeped in.
"Please ma'am, I hear 'em comin'," she said.
"Wait 'til they ring, and then answer the bell," said Aunt Judith.
The little maid looked very pretty, and she was delighted to be "in costume," for the occasion. Her skirt, of heavy cotton, was white, with wide pink stripes. Her waist was blue with a large white kerchief, and on her flaxen head was a white cap with a frill that made her rosy little face quite pleasing.
Greta liked her new place. She liked her new mistress, too, and the work at the little cottage was light.
Aunt Judith was a worker, and together they kept the pretty rooms in perfect order.
The bell rang sharply, Greta opened the door, and the quaintest little figures that ever were seen came tripping into the hall.
It was not to be a ceremonious affair, so Greta took their wraps at the door, and they entered the little parlor to greet Aunt Judith.
Princess Polly in crisp print, with yellow primroses on a white ground, a pale green kerchief, and yellow ribbons in her hair, was fair, and lovely to look upon.
Rob Lindsey in brown homespun with a yellow vest, walked beside her, looking very like a lad of the olden time.
Lena Lindsey, in a green and white striped gown, a wreath of white roses and green leaves in her hair, with Leslie Grafton in scarlet linen with white lace frills at her neck, and in her sleeves, were two quaint lassies, and Harry Grafton in gray linen with huge white collar, and gaily flowered tie, made a trio that delighted Aunt Judith.
She had asked Rose to come as a guest, instead of standing with her to receive.
She had wished to see dear little Rose Atherton among her other guests, simply because she thus could see her more in the same way that she saw the other children, and she wanted to judge if she looked like that other little Rose Atherton who once had worn that same gown.
Uncle John knew that it was to be a children's party, but he decided to accept Aunt Judith's invitation to be present, and enjoy their pleasure with her.
Shouts of laughter greeted his costume! Knee breeches of yellow linen, a waistcoat of white linen damask, with lace frills on his bosom and at his wrists, together with a coat of flowered striped material, made him look like some old portrait suddenly alive.
Rose close beside him, in the pretty frock that Aunt Judith had loaned her, clung to his right arm as they entered together, little Sprite Seaford on his left.
Her gown was one that her great grand aunt had once worn, and it was most becoming. Uncle John Atherton had especially asked her to go to the party with Rose and himself. Her yellow hair was braided in two long braids and crowned with a muslin cap. Her frock was blue, with white blossoms upon it, and from its belt hung a steel bead bag that held her handkerchief.
Gwen was not invited.
Aunt Judith detested her rude ways, and she would not choose a guest who might spoil a pleasant evening by her bad behavior.
A young friend of Uncle John's arrived a bit late, and surely his costume was the most unusual of any of the guests. Captain Atherton had seen the little suit in an antique shop in England. He had purchased it, believing that some such occasion as the present might occur, when the droll coat and trousers, the little waistcoat, and the comical cap would be just the thing for a slender lad to wear. Walter Langdon was indeed a quaint figure, as, with Captain Atherton, he went forward to greet Aunt Judith, and be introduced to the other guests.
His coat, a funny little "swallow tail," was of yellow green, his trousers matched it, his waistcoat, or vest, was striped, lilac and white, and his cap, green like the suit, had a long tassel hanging down on one side. His fair hair, in a soft bang, showed below the edge of his cap, and his eyes, wide open and merry, appeared to be just ready for a gay laugh.
He knew that he looked absolutely comical, and he thought it great fun to appear at the party in a costume that provoked laughter. He proved to be a bright, cheery boy, full of fun, and wit, and soon the other boys and girls felt as if they had always known him.
Uncle John wore a costume that had belonged to his great, great uncle, and he looked very handsome in it. He made them all laugh by saying that he wished that his ancestor had been just a wee bit larger, because then the suit would have been somewhat easier, instead of such aclose fit.
But while he seemed pleased with all of his new friends, it was RoseAtherton whom Walter liked best of all.
"And now," said Aunt Judith, "I've tried to make this party a truly old-fashioned one, and what do you say to playing some very old-fashioned games?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" they cried. "What shall we play first?"
"Blind Man's Buff," cried Uncle John, "and I'll blind first. Here,Rose! Tie this handkerchief over my eyes!"
Rose tied the handkerchief, and then the fun began.
"He's peeking!" cried Walter, "so he can be sure to catch Rose."
"I'm not peeking. HonestInjun!" declared Uncle John, exactly as he had heard the boys say it.
"Catchme!" cried Leslie, at the same time dodging him, and he grasped empty air.
"Andme!" cried Lena, just behind him, springing past him as he turned.
Sprite made no sound as she tried to pass him, but was just a bit too slow, and he caught her.
"Ah, I know who I've found!" he cried, "because no other little girl but Sprite has such long, silken braids."
He lifted the handkerchief, and laughed to see her blushing cheeks.
It was now Sprite's turn. Slowly she advanced, her pretty hands outstretched, and oddly enough she at once caught Lena Lindsey. Her little face was puzzled, and earnest, as she felt of the hair, the cap, and the gown. Then, in an instant, she passed her slender fingers over the chin.
She laughed merrily.
"It's Lena!" she cried gaily, "for it is Lena who has a deep dimple in her chin!"
Each took his turn at being blindfolded, and then "Post office" was announced.
Polly received a great batch of letters, and it was Rob, of course, who "mailed" them. Polly sent five "letters" to Rose, Rose had ten for Uncle John, Uncle John had two for Aunt Judith, who protested that she was "not a child."
"Neither am I," he said.
Aunt Judith chose little Sprite, then Sprite chose Harry Grafton. Harry had five letters for Polly, and Polly had one for Walter, who declared that hefound two!
"Copenhagen" was the next, and "Pillow" was the next.
Princess Polly, Rose and Sprite were the most favored of all the little lassies, and it would have been hard to say which of the three was the most popular.
They were now a bit tired, and while they were resting, Aunt Judith told a long story of a most exciting sleighing party that she once experienced, when the horses became frightened, and went plunging over the snow covered fields, having left the roadway far behind.
Then Uncle John matched it with a vivid tale of an encounter with a vessel manned by ocean outlaws. The children held their breath, and they felt very warm and cosey and secure, as they sat watching the dancing flames, and listening to tales of adventure.
"Now let us all enjoy a simple, old-time treat," said Aunt Judith. She tapped a tiny silver bell, and the pretty maid in her striped gown and kerchief appeared with a tray on which were little sandwiches cut in fancy shapes, and filled with chicken, others filled with lettuce, and yet others with chopped nuts. Gyp did not dream that nuts were ever served thus.
There were plates of dainty cakes, and tiny wine glasses filled to the brim with delicious raspberry shrub. How the children enjoyed the simple treat!
The sandwiches and cakes disappeared like magic, and the wee wine glasses were filled again and again with the spiced raspberry juice.
Greta piled her tray with an extra supply, and returned to the parlor, where the children were chattering like sparrows while they enjoyed the treat.
"I think this is a lovely party," said Princess Polly.
"So do I!" cried the others, as if with one voice.
"I think these are the nicest boys and girls I ever met," said Walter, adding, "especiallythe girls."
His merry gray eyes were laughing, and Uncle John said, as he looked at the eager, boyish face:
"You shall come often to my home here at Avondale, and become even better acquainted with my young friends, and neighbors."
"I'd like to, sir," Walter replied, "for I want them to bemyfriends."
"Wewill! Wewill!" cried an eager chorus.
It was later than they dreamed when the clock chimed the hour, and they took leave of Aunt Judith telling her how quaint and delightful the party had been, and how truly they had enjoyed the evening. Captain Atherton took the entire party under his protection, and they walked home together, talking all the way of the kindness of Aunt Judith in planning the pleasure for them.
* * * * * * * *
Very early next morning an impish figure sat astride the old wooden pump that stood near the door of the cottage.
He seemed to have no interest in anything save that door, and he sat very still, his eyes riveted upon it.
The old pump had not been used in years, but it served for a fine pedestal for Gyp.
At last he heard the key turn in the lock, and he was all attention.
The little maid opened it, and took in the milk jar.
"Where'sher?" he demanded. "I want ter seeher!"
Greta nodded, and ran in to call Aunt Judith.
"There's the queerest looking boy sitting out on top of the old wooden pump, and he says he wants to see you," said Greta.
Half guessing who it was, for what other boy would make an early morning call, and choose so odd a seat while he waited, Aunt Judith went to the door, and looked out.
"Did you wish to see me?" she asked with a pleasant smile, but Gyp had apparently forgotten what he had intended to say.
"The nuts were fine," Aunt Judith said, "and I want to thank you for them."
"That'swhat I came fer. I wanted ter know if them nuts was any good?"
"They were very nice indeed, and Gyp, I'll give you something that will show you just what I did with them. Wait a moment."
Gyp waited, wondering if he had quite understood her. Who had ever given him anything?
Aunt Judith came to the door with a plate of sandwiches.
"There, Gyp," she said, "those sandwiches on that side of the plate are chicken but these on this side are filled with some of your nuts."
"Oh, who ever heard of bread stuffed with nuts!" he cried. "They'regreat!" he cried a moment later, "but I don't want the plate. We take what we eat in ourhandsat home."
He suited the action to the words, for although the sandwiches were small, he managed to grasp one with both hands, demonstrating that it could be done.
"That was a kind little note that you sent with the bag of nuts," Aunt Judith said, "and since you've promised to bemyfriend, Gyp, I promise to beyours."
"All right!" cried Gyp, "when does it begin?'
"What?" she asked in surprise.
"Why,usbein' friends," said Gyp.
"Now, Gyp, my boy.Now!" said Aunt Judith. "Come in and we'll talk it over."
"Oo-o-o! Not now!" cried Gyp, "but to-night, if I darest ter, I'll dress up, and come."
He slid down from the tall old wooden pump, gave three wild hops, and then raced off across the field toward the old shed-like building that he called home.
She watched his flying figure from the doorway, and as he disappeared behind a clump of bushes, she turned, and closed the door.
"Strange, wild little fellow!" she said. "I wonder if he'll come!" And when night came, she found herself listening for the sound of a quick step.
At last it came, and quickly Aunt Judith opened the door. Gyp walked in very meekly, and sat on the edge of a chair seat, his old hat in his hands. His hair was painfully smooth, and he wore a bright striped shirt, an old red tie, and while his suit could hardly be called "dressy," it certainly showed that the boy had brushed it, and that he had tried to improve his appearance.
At school he had learned that he must remove his hat when he entered a room, a fact that had greatly surprised him, but he had remembered it.
Aunt Judith felt that she must work carefully, lest Gyp be seized with fear, and bolt for the door, and freedom.
Gently she told him how, by doing his best, he would find friends who would deal kindly with him. That he might have friends if he chose, and that he could, by good behavior, force them to respect him.
"I will be your friend," she said, "and Gyp, let me prove it. Rose tells me that you find your lessons hard to master. Bring them to me evenings, and I will help you with them. You may come Wednesday, and Saturday evenings, and perhaps you can win promotion, so as to climb steadily up to a class of your own age."
"Do you think Icould?" he asked. "Would theyletme?"
"Makethem do it, Gyp. You're smart enough. Come! What do you say? Let's try," Aunt Judith said.
"I'll do it," he said, "and if you help me, maybe I can get out of that class. They laugh at me, and it makes me mad to be called 'baby.'"
"Come over here with your books Saturday evening, and we'll see what we two can do," was the earnest reply.
Gyp sauntered along on the way to school, a thoughtful expression making his face less reckless than usual.
"Looks 's if 'twould pay ter be decent," he said, half aloud.
He was very quiet, and the teacher questioned if he were planning mischief. The little pupils watched him, and wondered when his restlessness would begin.
His teacher wondered, too, but Gyp kept his eyes on his book, and appeared not to know that he was being watched.
For the first time since he had been forced to attend school, he had a perfect spelling lesson.
He stumbled over every long word in the reading lesson, however, and the problems in arithmetic puzzled him completely.
If the arithmetic had seemed easier he might not have appealed so promptly to Aunt Judith for aid, but the young teacher was unable to make it clear to him, and when evening came, he raced across the fields, his book under his arm, and tapped at her door.
"Ah, you've come, Gyp!" she said, smiling at him encouragingly, "I hoped you would."
"You said Wednesday and Saturday, an' this is only Tuesday, but I can't get my lesson for termorrer 'less someone helps me," he said.
"There is no reason why you may not stay to-night," Aunt Judith said, kindly, "and now tell me what it was that made the arithmetic so hard today."
"She asked me if I had ten pears, and I wanted to keep one for myself, and divide the others between two of my friends, how many would I give each, and I told her I'd keep more than one for myself, and I didn't know twoanybodiesI'd want to give the others to, and then they all laughed. I don't see why."
Aunt Judith was trying not to laugh as heartily as the little pupils whose merriment had so annoyed Gyp.
"And the next thing she asked was about dividing pears, too. Don't folks divide anything butpears? They don't in the arithmetic!"
"Oh, Gyp, Gyp!" cried Aunt Judith, and the puzzled boy laughed with her, because he could not help it.
He did not mind her laughter. Indeed, he already felt better acquainted with her, because they had laughed together. The laughter of the little pupils had maddened him, but that was different.
"Theylaughedatme, butyoulaughwithme," he said, with quick understanding.
"And I'llworkwith you, Gyp," was the pleasant answer, and the boy at once opened his book.
When Gyp took his cap and started for home, after two hours spent at the cottage, he had a better understanding of figures, and their use, and the actual worth of arithmetic, than he had obtained, thus far, in his daily attendance at school.
"Why, Gyp," Aunt Judith had said, in reply to his statement that he "didn't see any use for arithmetic," "you mustn't grow to manhood with no knowledge of arithmetic, or knowledge of figures, or how to reckon. When you go to work you will need this knowledge. There are few things that you can do that will not be easier, or better done, and perhaps be better paid for if you are 'quick at figures.' You must not always live like a gypsy. You must learn all you can while you are at school, and then you must work, and earn, and try to be a good, and useful man. Youcan, I know, if youtry."
Gyp thought of Aunt Judith's words as he lay on his rude bed that night.
"She said I needn't always live like a gypsy," he murmured. "She saidI could learn, and then some time I could earn."
He lay a long time, wide awake, repeating Aunt Judith's words of cheer, and each time that he whispered them, he grew braver, and more determined.
"They've always said, 'Oh, he's only a gypsy,' but I'll learn, and I'll earn, and I'll do something. I don't know what, but I'll do something, see 'f I don't!"
There was no one to dispute his statement, and he dropped to sleep, and dreamed of doing great deeds.
Ever since he could remember, he had heard the boys of Avondale speak as if he were a gypsy, and as if that fact explained every bit of mischief that he did. He had always felt that, being a gypsy, there was no chance for him in any walk of life, and that, therefore, there was simply no use to try.
Now a new light had dawned, and with it came hope, cheer, determination, to succeed.
"I'll do it," he murmured in his sleep.
* * * * * * * *
Soon it was whispered that Gyp was working hard at school for promotion, and when he took his place in a class higher, he held his head high, and bravely worked at his lessons. Aunt Judith stood by him, and Wednesday and Saturday evenings, rain or shine, he spent at her little home, working with all his might to improve.
In the middle of the term, because of extra work that he had done under her instruction, he was again promoted.
He was steadily "catching up" with the boys of his own age. Those boys had now ceased to laugh at Gyp. He was winning their respect.
Sprite Seaford was another pupil who was working faithfully. She knew that her dear father and mother had made a great sacrifice when they had decided to live through the Fall, the Winter and, the Spring in the old house on the shore, without the little daughter, whose face was like sunshine, whose voice was music in the home.
There were times when Sprite was homesick, but those were the rare occasions when she chanced to be alone. Just now she was very happy. The weather was mild. All snow had vanished beneath the warm rays of the sun, and she ran out to know if it were really as warm as it looked. The tall evergreen trees and hedges shone dark against the sky, and Sprite stood looking at them. She had taken part in a little play on the week before, and some of the lines now flitted through her mind, and she lifted her pretty arms in graceful gesture. With the dark trees and low shrubbery behind her, she recited the lines with appropriate gesture, and telling effect.
Six small girls had taken part in the little play, and each had been chosen by Miss Kenyon, because of her talent for speaking. Sprite, with her long, golden hair, and her slender figure, had been cast for the fairy queen, whose delight it was to grant the wishes of all good children.
Now she stepped out into an open space, the beautiful garden making a lovely background for her figure. Gracefully she stood as she recited a verse that had been a part of the fairy play.
"If you're striving to excel,And your very best you do,You shall be rewarded well;I will make your wish come true."
A dark figure crouched behind a clump of underbrush that the gardener had thought too pretty to cut down.
Through snow and ice the red leaves had clung to the little scrub oak, and now that a mild day had come, the leaves looked very bright as the sun lay on them.
The figure hiding there was Gyp, and his eyes grew brighter as he heard the little verse.
He stirred uneasily.
Sprite, believing herself to be alone, repeated the verse with even greater spirit than before, and as she spoke the last line, Gyp sprang to his feet.
"I will make your wish come true," said Sprite, whereat Gyp sprang from his hiding-place, crying:
"Oh,willyer?Willyer?Areye a fairy?Kinyer grant my wish?"
All the superstition of his race showed in his eager face.
Sprite seemed neither afraid nor startled, nor was she annoyed at the interruption. For, a second she looked in gentle surprise at the boy's dark, eager face.
Then a look of pity made her eyes very soft.
"Oh, Gyp!" she cried, "what is the wish you want granted? I'm not a fairy, so of course I can't grant it, but,—Oh, Gyp! I'm awfully sorry. Tell me what the wish is! Sometimes it helps to tell."
Pityingly, and more like a little woman than like the child that she was, she spoke to comfort him.
For a moment he felt abashed that he had so plainly shown the longing in his heart, then as she asked again, he cried:
"I want to besomeone. I want a chance to besomethingbesidesGyp, the gypsy boy."
"Oh, then that's almost grantednow!" she cried in quick relief, "because I heard the teacher say, the other day:
"'That boy will get there! That boy will be someone worth while, andI mean to help him.'"
"Did she saythat?" cried Gyp, his eyes showing how little he dreamed that the work that he was doing was being noticed.
"She truly did," said Sprite, "so while I couldn't grant your wish,Icouldtell you that it would come true, and I'm glad of that."
"So'm I," agreed Gyp, "but don't yer tell any of the others that I thought yer was a fairy, will yer?"
She promised faithfully, and when he had thanked her for what she had told him, and for the promise that she had just made, he turned and, as usual, ran off to the woods.
Sprite stood watching him as he ran, like the wind across the fields, and even as she looked he turned, paused a moment, and waved his hand to the little waiting figure.
Quickly she lifted hers, and returned his salute.
He stood just a second, waved his hand again, and then plunged into the thicket.
* * * * * * * *
When he entered the old shack that he called "home," he found his mother stirring a steaming mass that nearly filled the huge iron kettle that stood on the rusty stove.
His small brothers and sisters formed a half circle around her, watching every movement that helped to prepare the dinner. They were all much younger than Gyp, and only one, a girl, was yet of school age.
"They'll be comin' after yer ter make me let ye go ter school same's Gyp," the woman was saying, as the boy opened the door, "but I need ye ter home this Winter ter help me, sure's my name is Gifford."
"Isyer name Gifford?" Gyp asked in surprise.
"Of course 'tis, Gyp. Why d'ye ask? Ain't ye never heard that before?" she asked, sharply.
"Never heard us folks called anything but gypsies," he replied.
"Well, how could ye? Don't no one never come here," his mother said, with fearful disregard of grammar.
"Then why isn'tmyname Gifford, too?" he persisted.
"Wal,'tis. Ye was named John, John Gifford, but ye couldn't seem ter say that in yer baby days, so ye left off the 'John,' and called, 'Gifford,' 'Gyp,' an' 'Gyp' it has been ever since. Don't they call ye that at school? I told the ol' feller what come ter say ye must 'tend school that that was yer name."
Gyp did not reply.
He thought best to be silent, and picking up one of his books, he studied until dinner was ready.
No time was wasted in serving. A very small low table was dragged to the center of the floor, the kettle was placed upon it, and then, a hungry circle, they swarmed around it.
The soup was very hot, but each was provided with a long slice of bread, and these they dipped into the soup, blowing it for a moment, and then eating it ravenously.
Gyp ate, as the others did. What else could he do? He had caught glimpses, now and then, of a better way of living, and in his heart he thought;
"I will not always live like a gypsy."
His teacher had called him "Gyp" as others did.
The next day, he appeared very early at school, and astonished her by asking shyly if she would call him, by his name, "John."
"Certainly, if you wish it," she said.
"I thought you liked to be called Gyp, and would feel more at home ifI called you that."
"That'sjustit!" he cried, in quick anger, "Iwould'feel at home' with that old name, but I don't want to 'feel at home.' I'll notalwayslive like a gypsy, and I want a decent name, like other boys!"
"That'sright, Gyp, noJohn!" she said, and both smiled to see how difficult it was to remember the new name.
"You can be so good and useful that every man, woman and child in Avondale will be forced to respect the name of John Gifford. I will speak of this to the pupils, and now that they all see how hard you are trying to gain knowledge, I think they will be willing to call you by the name that is really yours. Remember this, however. Don't be offended if sometimes we forget, and call you 'Gyp.' It may mean only that we remember the boy who, while still thus addressed, made persistent effort to improve."
* * * * * * * *
There was great excitement one Wednesday morning when dainty invitations were received by all the boys and girls who usually played together, requesting the pleasure of their company two weeks from that night, at the home of John Atherton.
"Festivities to commence at eight," was inscribed in gold letters at the bottom of the page.
"Oh, Rose, I ought not to ask," said Princess Polly, "and I won't askwhatthe festivities are to be, but I'll ask you if you know?'
"Not the least thing," Rose replied, "and when I asked Uncle John, he only laughed, and said that was his little secret, so we'll have to wait 'til the night of the party to know what he has planned. The only thing that he has told me is that on the night of the party, Sprite is to remain at our house and that will be the first night of her visit with us."
"I know that," Princess Polly said, "because he told papa that the time for Sprite to be with him was close at hand, and papa said that he knew that we had had our share of her visit, but she has been so sweet, so dear, that we'd never be ready to let her go."
"That's just the reason we want her, for truly, Princess Polly, next to you, Sprite is the sweetest girl I know. There's no girl quite so dear as you, Polly, but surely Sprite comes the very next," Rose said.