Marjorie's Maytime

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER XIII

  A CHILDREN'S PARTY

  The next day the children tried very hard to be good. It was not easy,for Grandma seemed especially punctilious, and reprimanded them for everylittle thing. She told them of the party in the afternoon, and taughtthem how to make curtseys to greet the guests.

  "I know how to curtsey," said Marjorie. "I always do it at home, whenmother has callers. But I don't curtsey to children."

  "Yes, you must," said Grandma. "I don't want my grandchildren behavinglike a lot of rustics."

  This speech greatly offended Marjorie, and it was with difficulty thatshe refrained from answering that they were not rustics. But shecontrolled herself, and said that of course she would curtsey to theyoung guests if Grandma wished her to.

  "Now that's a little lady," said Grandma, approvingly, and Marjorie feltglad that she hadn't given way to her irritation.

  "What time is the party, Grandma?" asked Kitty.

  "From four to six, Kitty; but you children must be dressed, and in thedrawing-room at quarter before four."

  The day dragged along, as there was nothing especial to do and no way tohave any fun. Grandpa Maynard had gone out with their father, and thoughthe children went up in the billiard room they didn't feel just likeromping.

  "I hate this house!" said King, unable to repress the truth any longer.

  "So do I!" said Kitty. "If we stay here much longer, I'll run away."

  This surprised the other two, for Kitty was usually mild and gentle, andrarely gave way to such speech as this.

  "It's Grandma Maynard that makes the trouble," said King. "She's sopernickety and fussy about us. I'd behave a great deal better if she'dlet me alone. And Grandpa wouldn't bother about us if Grandma didn't makehim."

  "I don't think you ought to talk like that, King," said Marjorie."Somehow, it doesn't seem right. It isn't respectful, and all that, andit doesn't seem a nice thing to do."

  "That's so, Mops; you're just right!" said King, taking the reproof ingood part, for he knew it was merited. "It's a whole lot worse to bedisrespectful about your grandpeople than to carry on and make a racket,_I_ think."

  "Yes, it is," said Marjorie, "and I say the rest of the time we're here,let's try to do just right. Because it's only two or three days anyway.I think we're going on day after to-morrow."

  So they all agreed to try afresh to behave correctly, and on the wholesucceeded pretty well.

  Promptly at quarter of four that afternoon they presented themselves inthe drawing-room for Grandma's inspection.

  "You look very well," Grandma said, nodding her head approvingly at thegirls' frilly white dresses and King's correct clothes. "Now I trustyou'll behave as well as you look."

  "What do you want us to do, Grandma?" asked Marjorie. "I mean toentertain the boys and girls."

  "Oh, nothing of that sort, child; the entertainment will be provided by aprofessional entertainer. You have only to greet the guests properly,and that is all you need do."

  Marjorie did not know quite what a professional entertainer was, but itsounded interesting, and she was quite sure she could manage to greet theguests politely.

  Although Marjorie's mother was in the room, she had little to say,for Grandma Maynard was accustomed to dominate everything in her ownhouse. And as her ideas were not entirely in accord with those of herdaughter-in-law, the younger Mrs. Maynard thought it wise not to obtrudeher own opinions.

  Promptly at four o'clock the children began to come. The Maynards stoodin a group at one end of the long room, and as each guest arrived, afootman stationed at the doorway announced the name in a loud voice. Theneach little guest came and curtsied to the receiving party, and after afew polite remarks, passed on, and was ushered to a seat by anotherfootman.

  The seats were small, gilt chairs with red cushions, arranged all roundthe wall, and there were about forty.

  In a short time the guests were all in their places, and then theMaynards were shown to their seats.

  Then the professional entertainer arrived. She proved to be a pretty andpleasant young lady, and she wore a light blue satin gown and a pinkrose in her hair.

  First, she sang a song for them, and then she told a story, and then sherecited a poem.

  Then she asked the children what they would like to have next. At firstno one responded, and then a little girl said, "Won't you sing us anothersong, please. You sing so delightfully."

  Marjorie looked in amazement at the child who talked in such grownupfashion. But the entertaining lady did not seem to think it strange, andshe replied, "Yes, I will sing for you with pleasure."

  So she sang another song, but though it was pretty music, Marjorie couldnot understand the words, and she began to think that the programmewas rather tiresome.

  The lady kept on telling stories and reciting poems, and singing, untilMarjorie almost had the fidgets. It seemed so unlike her notion of achildren's party, to sit still and listen to a programme all theafternoon, and she grew cramped and tired, and longed for it to be over.But the city children did not seem to feel that way at all. They sat verydemurely with their hands clasped, and their slippered feet crossed, andapplauded politely at the proper times. Marjorie glanced at King andKitty, and their answering glances proved that they felt exactly as shedid herself. However, all three were determined to do the right thing,and so they sat still, and tried to look as if they were enjoyingthemselves.

  At half-past five the programme came to an end, and the children wereinvited to go out into the dining-room for the feast.

  The dining-room was transformed into a place of beauty. Small tablesaccommodated six guests each, and at each place was a lovely basket offlowers with a big bow of gauze ribbon on the handle. Each table had adifferent color, and the flowers in the basket matched the ribbon bow.Marjorie's basket was filled with pink sweet peas, while at another tableKitty had lavender pansies, and King found himself in front of a basketof yellow daisies.

  The feast, as might have been expected at Grandma Maynard's, wasdelicious, but the Maynard children could not enjoy it very much becauseof their environment. They were not together, and each one being withseveral strangers, felt it necessary to make polite conversation.

  King tried to talk on some interesting subject to the little girl who satnext him.

  "Have you a flower garden?" he said.

  "Oh, no, indeed; we live in the city, so we can't very well have a flowergarden."

  "No, of course not," agreed King. "You see, we live in the country, so wehave lots of flowers."

  "It must be dreadful to live in the country," commented the little girl,with a look of scorn.

  "It isn't dreadful at all," returned King; "and just now, in springtime,it's lovely. The flowers are all coming out, and the birds are hoppingaround, and the grass is getting green. What makes you say it'sdreadful?"

  "Oh, I don't like the country," said the child, with a shrug of herlittle shoulders. "The grass is wet, and there aren't any pavements, andeverything is so disagreeable."

  "You're thinking of a farm; I don't mean that kind of country," and thenKing remembered that he ought not to argue the question, but agree withthe little lady, so he said, "But of course if you don't like thecountry, why you don't, that's all"

  "Yes, that's all," said the little girl, and then the conversationlanguished, for the children seemed to have no subjects in common.

  At her table, Marjorie was having an equally difficult time. There was agood-looking and pleasant-faced boy sitting next to her, so she said,"Do you have a club?"

  "Oh, no," returned the boy; "my father belongs to clubs, but I'm tooyoung."

  "But I don't mean that kind," explained Marjorie; "I mean a club just forfun. We have a Jinks Club,--we cut up jinks, you know."

  "How curious!" said the boy. "What are jinks?"

  Marjorie thought the boy rather silly not to know what jinks were, forshe thought any one with common sense ought to know that, but she said,"Why, jinks are capers,--mischief,--an
y kind of cutting up."

  "And you have a club for that?" exclaimed the boy, politely surprised.

  "Yes, we do," said Marjorie, determined to stand up for her own club."And we have lovely times. We do cut up jinks, but we try to make themgood jinks, and we play all over the house, and out of doors, andeverywhere."

  "It must be great fun," said the boy, but he said it in such anuninterested tone that Marjorie gave up talking to him, and turned herattention to the neighbor on her other side.

  When the supper was over, the young guests all took their leave. Againthe Maynards stood in a group to receive the good-byes, and every childexpressed thanks for the afternoon's pleasure in a formal phrase, andcurtsied, and went away.

  When they had all gone, the Maynard children looked at each other,wondering what to do next.

  "You may go up to the billiard room and play, if you like," said Grandma,benignly. "You will not want any other supper to-night, I'm sure; so youmay play up there until bedtime."

  Rosy Posy was carried away by the nurse, but the three other childrenstarted for the billiard room. Marjorie, however, turned back to say,"We all thank you, Grandma Maynard, for the party you gave us."

  Kitty and King murmured some sort of phrase that meant about the samething, but as they had not enjoyed the party at all they didn't maketheir thanks very effusive, and then the three walked decorouslyupstairs. But once inside the billiard room, with the door shut, theyexpressed their opinions.

  "That was a high old party, wasn't it?" said King.

  "The very worst ever!" declared Kitty. "I never got so tired of anythingin my life, as I did listening to that entertaining person, or whateverthey call her."

  "It _was_ an awful poky party," said Marjorie, "but I think we ought togive Grandma credit for meaning to give us pleasure. Of course she'sused to children who act like that, and she couldn't even imagine thekind of parties we have at home, where we frolic around and have a goodtime. So I say don't let's jump on her party, but remember that she didit for us, and she did it the best she knew how."

  "You're a good sort, Mopsy," said King, looking at his sisteraffectionately. "What you say is all right, and it goes. Now let's cutout that party and try to forget it."

  There were some quiet games provided for the children, and so they playedparcheesi and authors until bedtime, for though the billiard room washardly within hearing of their grandparents, yet they did not feel likeplaying romping games.

  "I don't think I shall ever holler again," said King. "I'm getting soaccustomed to holding my breath for fear I'll make too much noise thatI'll probably always do so after this."

  "No, you won't," said practical Kitty. "As soon as you get away fromGrandma Maynard's house you'll yell like a wild Indian."

  "I expect I will," agreed King. "Come on, let's play Indians now."

  "Nope," said Marjorie; "we'd get too noisy, and make mischief. I'm goingto bed; I'm awfully tired."

  "So'm I," said Kitty. "Parties like that are enough to wear anybody out!"

  They all went downstairs to their bedrooms, but as Marjorie passed thedoor of her grandmother's room, she paused and looked in.

  "May I come in, Grandma?" she said. "I do love to see you in yourbeautiful clothes. You look just lovely."

  Marjorie's compliment was very sincere, for she greatly admired hergrandmother, and in spite of her formality, and even severity, Marjoriehad a good deal of affection for her.

  The maid was just putting the finishing touches to Mrs. Maynard'scostume, and as she stood; robed in mauve satin, with sparkling diamondornaments, she made a handsome picture. Mrs. Maynard was a beautifulwoman, and exceedingly young-looking for her age. There was scarcely athread of gray in her dark brown hair, and the natural roses stillbloomed on her soft cheeks.

  Marjorie had not seen her grandmother before in full evening attire, andshe walked round, gazing at her admiringly.

  "I don't wonder my father is such a handsome man," she said. "He looksever so much like you."

  Grandma Maynard was pleased at this naive compliment, for she knewMarjorie was straightforward and sincere. She smiled at her littlegranddaughter, saying, "I'm glad you're pleased with your family'spersonal appearance, and I think some day you will grow up to be a prettyyoung lady yourself; but you must try to remember that handsome is ashandsome does."

  Marjorie's adaptable nature quickly took color from her surroundings andinfluences, and gazing at her refined and dignified grandmother, she saidearnestly, "When I grow up, Grandma, I hope I'll look just like you, andI hope I'll behave just like you. I _am_ rather a naughty little girl;but you see I was born just chock-full of mischief, and I can't seem toget over it."

  "You are full of mischief, Marjorie, but I think you will outgrow it.Why, if you lived with me, I believe you'd turn my hair white in a singlenight."

  "That would be a pity, Grandma," and Marjorie smiled at the carefullywaved brown locks which crowned her grandma's forehead.

  "Now I'm going down to dinner, Marjorie,--we have guests coming. But ifyou like, you may amuse yourself for a little while looking round thisroom. In that treasure cabinet are many pretty curios, and I know I cantrust you to be careful of my things."

  "Thank you, Grandma; I will look about here for a little while, andindeed I will be careful not to harm anything."

  So Grandma's satin gown rustled daintily down the stairs, and Marjoriewas left alone in her beautifully appointed bedroom.

  She opened the treasure cabinet, and spent a pleasant half hour lookingover the pretty things it contained. She was a careful child, and touchedthe things daintily, putting each back in its right place after sheexamined it.

  Then she locked the glass doors of the cabinet, and walked leisurelyabout the room, looking at the pretty furnishings. The dainty toilettable interested her especialty, and she admired its variousappointments, some of which she did not even know the use of. Onebeautiful carved silver affair she investigated curiously, when shediscovered it was a powder box, which shook out scented powder from aperforated top. Marjorie amused herself, shaking some powder on her hand,and flicking it on her rosy cheeks. It was a fascinating little affair,for it worked by an unusual sort of a spring, and Marjorie liked to playwith it.

  She wandered about the room with the powder-box still in her hand, and asshe paused a moment at Grandma's bedside, a brilliant idea came to her.

  The bed had been arranged for the night. The maid had laid aside theelaborate lace coverlet and pillow covers, had deftly turned back the bedclothing in correct fashion, and had put Grandma's night pillow in place.

  For some reason, as Marjorie looked at the pillow, there flashed acrossher mind what Grandma had said about her hair turning white in a singlenight, and acting on a sudden impulse, Marjorie shook powder from thesilver box all over Grandma's pillow. Then chuckling to herself, shereplaced the powder-box on the dressing table, and went to her own room.