Six Girls and the Tea Room

by Marion Ames Taggart

  CHAPTER XIV

  LITTLE SERENA

  "I WONDER what it all means," said Happie, as she turned from the glassto let Margery button the middle buttons of her waist. "We are givinga party to-day in the tea room; next week we intend to close it forthree days. It seems to me it isn't as much like a real business asit should be, not a businesslike business. I meant to go into it in alife-or-death way. Just as if I were all the time reciting, 'Give methree grains of corn, mother,' and the tea room were the three grainsof corn; all there was between us and starvation, I mean. But it israther like a playhouse tea room. I wonder why?"

  "It's Miss Bradbury's fault," said Gretta before Margery could answer."First she paid the rent ahead, now she invites us up----"

  "To your house!" Margery laughingly interrupted.

  "Well!" admitted Gretta. "Only it never can seem mine. Up to the Ark,anyway, and tells you to close the tea room. I think she makes us allfeel as though the tea room weren't necessary, somehow."

  "Gretta's right," said Margery. "There is something in the air thatmakes the tea room seem like a side issue. Yet no one could have beenmore in earnest than we were about it. And we have helped mother agreat deal with its results this winter. Oh, I suppose we imagineit. It really isn't important that we close the room for those threedays. It will go on just the same, and we are a little tired. That iswhat Aunt Keren saw, probably. Yet there is a stir in the air--as ifsomething were going to happen."

  Margery pinned a long-stemmed American Beauty rose on her breast as shespoke, having shaken it out of the box where it lay with twenty-threeof its sisters, and smiled at her reflection, without seeing it.

  "Something good, I hope," said Happie.

  "Good? Oh, yes! Nothing but the best of good things happens to theScollards lately! I hope we are grateful enough. I don't feel as thoughthere were enough of me to be as grateful as I ought to be," Margeryresponded.

  "A full teacup is as full as a full ocean, Margery. I think we'regrateful in the best way when we're happy," said Happie, perhaps morewisely than she knew. "Now if you two big girls are ready we'll go andhelp motherums with the little girls, and be off to our mixed-tea roomparty, as Bob calls it."

  It was an unusual party, "but that was no harm," as Polly sensiblypointed out. In the first place parties are not usually held in tearooms, nor do they combine the oldest with the youngest child, andall the ages between, flanked by two mothers, as in this case. Mrs.Charleford came with Edith. Mrs. Scollard accepted her invitation withmore pleasure than any one else, perhaps, because she "so rarely had achance to see her flock frolic by daylight," as she said herself.

  Mrs. Gordon was asked, but could not come. Ralph and Snigs representedthe family, unsuspecting Margery's plot to increase their family joy,or rather to widen it. Happie had caught all three of her E's withoutan engagement, as it chanced. Little Serena Jones-Dexter came with hernurse, looking very white and pathetic. She had sprained her ankle andcould not enjoy the party except as a spectator. She had so stronglyset her heart upon coming that her doting grandmother had not had thecourage to say her nay, so Serena came in state, borne in by a footman,attended by her nurse. She was ensconced in pillows in the very centreof the room in the biggest of chairs where she could see everything,poor little patient bit of childhood, with the big eyes and thebeautiful little white face.

  It was a holiday, of course, and the girls had felt sure that no onewould try to visit the tea room, but hardly had the guests all arrivedwhen some one did turn the door handle and in walked Hans Lieder. Hestopped short as he saw the assemblage and took off his wide brimmedhat with a profound bow.

  "A thousand pardons, young ladies," he said. "I see that this room isnot this room to-day. I did not know."

  "Oh, if he would play!" whispered Laura to Margery.

  "We are having a party, Herr Lieder," Margery said, stepping forward,looking so pretty in her pale green gown with the American beautiesagainst her golden hair and nestling close to her fair skin, that HerrLieder's gloomy eyes lightened involuntarily as they rested on her. "Itis a party of all ages and sizes, rather a frolic than a party. Wouldyou care to watch our games?"

  "If my music would give you or your guests any pleasure, mademoiselle,I should gladly remain to play to you," said the man who still was aperson of mystery to the six maidens.

  "Pleasure! It would be more than that, Herr Lieder. Only we could notplay games; we could do nothing but listen, if you were playing," saidMargery.

  "No," said Hans Lieder, throwing his hat down in the corner andfollowing it with his cloak as he divested himself of it. "No. I can bethe Pied Piper when I will, and set your pulses throbbing beyond thepossibility of doing anything else but frolic."

  "This is our mother, Mrs. Scollard, Herr Lieder," said Happie, bringingher mother up to this unexpected addition to the party, "and mybrother. You are very kind, but we should be sorry to have you tireyourself for us, or----"

  "Fraeulein Gluecklich," said Hans Lieder, and Happie laughed in pleasedappreciation of this variation on her name, "Fraeulein Gluecklich, thereis nothing rests me, nothing interests me, nothing helps me to forget,save music. It will give me pleasure to play for you until you beg meto stop. This piano is a sort of miracle to me, and it is my greatestpleasure to touch it. I once had a piano of this make, this action,this same case; in short, it is identically my piano again, and I playon it wondering at the similarity, and dreaming that the impossible hashappened and that all that I have thrown away is restored to me."

  Happie glanced around to see who had heard these strange words thatthrilled her with a feeling of fear and awe. Her mother had moved awayafter the bow with which she had acknowledged Happie's introduction;Bob had gone; no one had heard what this singular man had said, and hewent immediately to the piano and began to play.

  Ralph, Bob and Snigs had never heard him before. "The moment he beginsyou have to sit up and take notice," remarked Bob to Ralph, who noddedwith all his might, being too engrossed in the "notice" he was takingto reply otherwise.

  The girls had not intended to have a dancing party, but there was noresisting the waltz into which the long fingers fell, inviting the keysto magic, all feet to motion.

  Ralph danced, with Happie first, with Laura, and then with Happie'sfriends, but as he turned, with Edith Charleford as a partner, hiseyes caught little Serena's across Edith's shoulder, so bright, sounchildlike in their beauty and wistfulness that Ralph's big heart wentout to her with a bound.

  "Poor little thing! Sitting there so patiently!" he thought. "Thegirls say she is a fairy dancer! I wonder why I shouldn't be decent toher as I would be to any other forlorn mite? She can't help being mycousin, and she doesn't know she is; she's too little to know aboutfamily feuds anyway. She looks as though she were bearing the burden ofMrs. Jones-Dexter's misbehavior. I should think the Jewish scapegoatmight have looked like that when it was a kid. I never saw such wistfuleyes." Ralph laughed at his fancy about the youthful scapegoat, andEdith stopped dancing imperatively.

  "I wonder what you will be when you are an old man?" she exclaimedpettishly, being accustomed to attention whenever her prettinessdemanded it. "You are as absent-minded as if you had been vivisected,and your mind taken out. I have spoken to you three times and youhaven't heard me! and just how you laughed, when there was nothing tolaugh at!"

  "There certainly isn't, when a fellow is rude to a girl, and Happie'sbest friend at that," said Ralph contritely, though his implicationthat Edith derived part of her importance from Happie was notflattering. "I beg your pardon, but the truth is I was engrossed inthat little girl over there, the child that isn't well, and if youwill excuse me I think I'll go over and try to get her to look lesslike sixty and more like six, which is her age, I believe."

  He led Edith to a chair with perfect certainty that he was to bereleased, and Edith stared at him in amazement. "Well, you are anextraordinary boy!" she gasped. "But I don't mind your rudeness
at all.I think it is rather nice of you to be interested in that child. Yes,I'll excuse you."

  "Thank you," said Ralph calmly, and walked over to little Serena.

  "Not much fun sitting still, is it, little lady?" he asked in a way hehad which made all children go to him like butterflies to blossoms, thesecret of the true child-lover which cannot be imitated nor taught.

  "I love to dance," said Serena wistfully.

  "Will you dance with me?" asked Ralph.

  "I can't, not to-day. I have sprained my ankle," said Serena.

  "Ah, but I haven't!" cried Ralph. "Let me take you for a waltz. My feetare so much bigger than yours that one pair like them will take theplace of yours and of the little partners you have when you are dancingup-stairs. Come, your Serene Highness!"

  Serena looked up with a delighted laugh. "That's my dearest pet name!How did you know it?" she cried, and held up her hands for Ralph tolift her. "I'm going to dance with this nice, this very nice big boy,Mary," she added to her nurse.

  Ralph lifted her carefully. "I'll not harm her," he said to thedoubtful Mary, and adjusting Serena to his broad shoulder Ralph beganto dance with his little cousin, quite unmoved by what the other boysand girls might think of the queer performance. What Margery thought ofit would be hard to say. She caught Robert Gaston's sleeve, he beingnearest to her as usual, and her eyes shone like stars.

  "Look!" she whispered. "Do look at Ralph! It's the most fortunate thingthat little Serena happened to be hurt! Ralph can hardly resist a sweetchild at any time, but one that is suffering is wholly irresistible tohim. And Serena is such a lovely child!"

  "Fortune is favoring you, Lady of the Deep-laid Plots," smiled Robert."I am not surprised. I felt almost sure that the lion and the lambwould lie down together if you led them up."

  "Oh, they haven't done that yet, but I can't help hoping!" criedMargery.

  "Never try to help hoping, it's the best thing that one can do--I thinkI hope a little, wee bit myself these pleasant days, Margery."

  Margery looked straight before her, trying to hide the tumult of herpulses as she heard her name without the prefix for the first time fromRobert's lips, and guessed his meaning--as she easily might do.

  In the meantime Ralph circled around the room with his small cousinwhose pale face was rosy from laughing at this kind big boy's nonsense.He stopped at last before her chair and deposited Serena in it. Shelooked up at him from its depths with affectionate admiration.

  "I've had a perfectly lovely waltz," she said fervently.

  "So have I," echoed Ralph. "I think henceforth I shall never dancewith a partner who is too big to be carried--saves all the botherof steering. They're going to play a game--try to cut down GeorgeWashington's cherry tree over there. How would you like to play ittoo instead of watching them? In my arms, you know. You will beblindfolded, and so shall I, and you shall tell me where to go, but youshall make your own chop at the tree and try for a prize as well as therest who haven't sprained their ankles. What do you say to that idea,your Serene Highness?"

  Serena clapped her hands, then her bright face clouded. "I'd loveit!" she cried. "But it would be hard for you to carry a great girlsix years old, and I wouldn't like to spoil your party--not anybody'sparty, but specially anybody so dearly good."

  "And so goodly dear," said Ralph. "Little Serene Highness, don't youworry over that. I'd be playing the game double, twice blindfolded,twice chopping, with you in my arms, so I'd have twice as much fun,don't you see?"

  "You must be fond of children, sir," said the nurse, looking curiouslyat Ralph.

  Ralph caught the suspicious note of the lower order of mind, which isapt to doubt the motives of unusual kindness, as well as the jealousnote of the nurse for her nursling.

  He smiled at Mary, and Ralph's smile generally inspired confidence."There isn't anything much nicer than little people, is there?" heasked. "And this little person has a look that seems to make one wanther to have as good a time, for as long a time, as she can. I'm glad tocarry her around and let her get into things."

  Mary's eyes suddenly filled. "I know the look; they don't see it,"she said very low. "You're a fine boy, whoever you are, and I hopeyou'll be sent good times of your own for the interest you take in thisdarling."

  "Thank you," said Ralph. "Why, here's my Polly!"

  "She's my Polly too," cried Serena. "And Penny's my Penny, but most ofall Miss Margery's my Miss Margery."

  "I didn't know you knew our Ralph, Serena," cried Polly, running up totake possession of Ralph's hand. "Happie sent me to tell you she wantsyou to help stand the tree up, Ralph."

  "I'll be back for you, little Serene Highness, when we've propped thetree," said Ralph hastening to obey.

  They put the tree into its place and distributed hatchets to allthe company. "First, the national parade!" shouted Bob, under aninspiration. "Shoulder arms!"

  Everybody shouldered his tiny hatchet, Herr Lieder began to play amedley of national airs in march time. Ralph rushed over, caught Serenaup on his left arm, fell into place, and all the company, large andsmall, marched around and around the tea room, brandishing hatchets andtrying to sing familiar words that no longer fitted familiar airs whenplayed in marching time, regardless of the original tempo.

  "The first chop is Auntie Cam's!" cried Happie. "Come and beblindfolded, auntie. And next motherums!"

  Mrs. Charleford submitted to the bandage over her eyes, while HerrLieder played the queerest sort of music, so humorous that everybodylaughed at it just as they would have laughed at funny words. When Mrs.Charleford was safely blindfolded and Bob turned her around three timesto the left, and thrice to the right Herr Lieder played something thatLaura correctly described as "dizzy." It was full of hints of tunes,none of which developed. "Don't you see?" cried Laura in ecstasy. "Itmeans you don't know where you are!"

  Then to the accompaniment of soft running arpeggios Mrs. Charlefordwent slowly forward, hesitated, turned, went in the opposite direction,raised her hatchet, put out her other hand gropingly, stopped wheneverybody cried, "No fair; no fair feeling!" and struck--to a crashingchord of Herr Lieder's--a valiant blow directly at Elsie Barker's head,who dodged it by throwing herself on Eleanor Vernon. "She thought youwere a cherry, Elsie!" cried Edith amid the applause that greeted thisfirst blow. Elsie was so proud of her red hair that there was no dangerin teasing her about it.

  Mrs. Scollard walked without a moment's hesitation to the portiere andstruck her hatchet deep into its folds. "Mother is trying to bury thehatchet," said Bob, untying the handkerchief that hid her eyes. "Come,Eleanor! you might bear in mind that it is the tree, and not the tearoom or its friends that we are after."

  Eleanor seemed to heed the warning, for a shout of applause greeted heras she aimed a blow at the tip-most top of the little tree, and RobertGaston pinned on the spot the first numbered slip the tree had received.

  Margery followed. She walked directly to the book-shelf and struck herblow on the back of "Lady Baltimore."

  "Oh, come now, Margery! You don't want to hit anything that is stampedBaltimore!" protested Snigs.

  "I don't know about that special kind of cake, the Lady Baltimore ofthe novel, but Margery thinks Baltimore things take the cake," saidElsie Barker.

  There were some of the players who could keep their bearings, or weremore lucky than the first ones. Gradually the little cherry tree beganto blossom with white strips, and the Scollards were reassured byseeing that some one could take a prize, which seemed doubtful at firstwhile everybody was aiming wide of the tree.

  Ralph came up with Serena to be blindfolded. He had played for himselfand had deposited his record on a table nearest to the window andfarthest from the tree. Now he had to be blindfolded again, to besure that he was really guided by Serena and playing fair, and Serenaherself had a handkerchief bound around her fair hair, hiding herexcited eyes.

  "That way, Ralph, walk that way!" she cried, pointing directly to thetree. Ralph obeyed. The child pushed and pressed him from
side to side;it was a hard matter to be certain what she wanted him to do, but Ralphpatiently did his best, and stopped when Serena gave the order. "Now!"she whispered, drawing in her breath.

  She struck a mighty blow, using all her strength as if it had been averitable tree chopping, and her blow went home, right above the markon the tree which had been made to designate the spot used as thestandard for prize winning.

  "Hurrah for little Serena!" shouted Bob hurrying up to uncover thechild's eyes and her bearer's. "Nobody else has come near you, Serena,and I'm sure nobody will. You're the one who has done it with yourlittle hatchet; you've won the prize, sure thing."

  Serena turned and hugged Ralph frantically. "Oh, you dear, dear,darling big boy!" she cried, to everybody's amusement. "I love you andI love you! I never won a prize in all my life, and I'm six. I'm goingto give half of it to you!"

  There were not many more to try their skill after Serena, and theinterest in the game flagged a little with the certainty that the bestpossible blow had been struck. Serena had won the first prize, RobertGaston the second, with a mark to his credit on a short lower limb,near the test mark on the trunk of the tree.

  The consolation prize had to be drawn for by five, Mrs. Charlefordand Ralph among them. Mrs. Charleford won it, a little Japanese henstanding on a card bearing the inscription "A hatch it you may counton."

  Serena was given a candy box in the shape of a tree trunk, tied withred, white and blue ribbon, finished with a bunch of artificialJapanese cherry blossoms, and filled with candied cherries.

  She beamed at it and at Margery who brought it to her.

  "I'm so glad it's something I can divide with my nice boy," she said."I'm going to give him 'most all the cherries. Maybe he won't mind if Ikeep the box and the flowers and the ribbon? Oh, he's right here! Willyou, Ralph, care if I keep what's outside and give you the inside?"

  "Not a bit, little Serene Highness! I don't want more than one bite ofa cherry from the inside. I'm just your horse that you drove to win therace, you know."

  "Didn't we have fun?" sighed Serena contentedly. "I never went to sonice a party, Miss Margery, and I'm six. Grandma said, 'What's the useof going, Serena, when you can't move about one bit?' But I was crazyto come. She didn't know Ralph was here. Neither did I. We didn't knowthere was a Ralph. Isn't it funny how you don't know people till you doknow them, and then you love them?"

  "It's wonderful, little Serena!" Margery assented with fervor. "Andthen you can't imagine how your old world used to look without them!I'm glad that you had such a happy time, dear. I'm very glad Ralph gaveit to you!"

  She smiled on Ralph, and he turned away. "I'm not feuding on my ownaccount, you know, and anyway it wouldn't be this child's fault," hemurmured.

  "I must take you home, Miss Serena," said Mary. "Mrs. Jones-Dexter saidnot later than five."

  "I don't believe she knew how early five would be here," sighed Serena,submitting to the decree meekly. "I wish you'd come and see me, my niceRalph."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that, little Serene Highness, but maybe we'llmeet again. Life is long and very queer in its ways. Good-bye, sweetlittle lady."

  Serena said good-bye wistfully and watched Ralph walk away with longingin her eyes. Not because life is long, but because it is short, Serenawas soon to see again the cousin whom she did not know.

  The frolic broke up by seven. It had been a pleasant afternoon toeverybody who had accepted Margery's peculiar invitation. Even HerrLieder seemed to have enjoyed making music for the young people, andwatching the fun. Certainly he had added a great deal to the success ofthe afternoon.

  Margery, walking down the street behind the rather long processionof her family and guests, with Robert Gaston beside her, sang in herheart as she brooded over the real success which she believed she hadattained.

  It could not be, she felt sure, that Ralph's kindness to little Serena,given without a thought of consequences beyond making the ailing childhappy for a few hours, could be without fruit. Some day, she felt sure,his goodness of heart would win him further friendship from Serena, whowould not forget "her kind, big boy."

  Margery knew how hard it was going to be for Mrs. Gordon to send Ralphto college the coming year and yet how certainly she was going tostruggle to do so, and how Ralph was planning to help himself throughthe course. "If only Serena should beg to see the 'big boy' again, ifshe should grow deeply fond of him, if for her sake Mrs. Jones-Dextershould do what she easily could do for her niece and her grandnephew,if as years went by Serena, growing fonder and fonder of Ralph----"

  "What are you dreaming of, Margery? I have spoken to you twice, and youdid not hear me!" complained Robert Gaston at her elbow.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon! I was dreaming of the possible fruit of thelittle tree at which we have all been vainly chopping this afternoon,"Margery answered. "I do think it's heavenly to fancy you see a sweetstory working itself out, and to feel as though you had contributed onetiny page of it yourself!"