CHAPTER XII
A REAL PARTY
The little girl would have felt a great deal better if Lily Ludlow hadnot been on the other side. Lily was growing into a very pretty girl.They were wearing pantalets shorter now, and she noticed that Lily worehers very short. Then aprons were made without bibs or shoulder bands,and had ruffles on the bottom. They were beginning to go farther around,almost like another skirt. Lily had two white ones. She walked up anddown the block with a very grand air. Then Miss Chrissy met Margaret atthe house of a mutual acquaintance, and invited her very cordially tocall on her, and Margaret did the same. Miss Chrissy lost no time, butcame card-case in hand, and made herself very agreeable.
"Would you like to go down and call on Jim's girl?" Margaret askedsmilingly. Ben always called her that.
"No," replied Hanny, with much dignity. "I don't like her. She called me'queer' the first time she saw me, and I shouldn't think of callingNora queer, no matter how she looked. If Jim wants her he may have her,but I _do_ hope they won't live in New York."
The temper was so unusual and so funny that Margaret let it go without aword.
Everything came back to its normal state. Mr. Theodore and her fatherand Steve remained the same good friends. The party transparencies andemblems were taken down. It seemed to her that people had not been asdeeply disappointed as they ought to be. She was very loyal and faithfulin her attachments, and no doubt you think quite obstinate in herdislikes.
But something else happened that aroused her interest. Indeed, therewere things happening all the time. Miss Jane Underhill, up at Harlem,was dead and buried, and Margaret had taken a great interest in MissLois. Cousins had been going and coming. Mrs. Retty Finch had a littleson, and Aunt Crete had come down and spent a week with hersister-in-law. But this distanced them all--Steve and Dolly Beekman weregoing to be married! The Beekmans had been staying up in the countryhouse. All the girls had been married there.
There were to be five bridesmaids. Annette and Margaret were among them.Joe was to be best man and stand with Miss Annette. Doctor Hoffman wasto stand with Margaret. There was a Gessner cousin, a Vandam cousin,and Dolly's dear friend, Miss Stuyvesant. All the bridesmaids were to begowned in white India mull, and Dolly was to have a white brocaded silk,and a long veil that her grandmother had worn. Hosts and hosts offriends were invited. The house would be big enough to take them all in.
Miss Cynthia made the little girl a lovely dress. First she took herpink merino for a slip. Then there were lace puffs divided by insertion,a short baby waist, short sleeves, pink satin bows on her shoulders,with the long ends floating almost like wings, and a narrow pink ribbonaround her waist with a great cluster of bows and ends. She was to haveher hair curled all around, and to stand and hold Dolly's bouquet whileshe was being married. I suppose now we would call her a maid of honor.
No one could say that Mr. Peter Beekman had ever given a mean wedding.He liked Stephen very much, and Dolly could almost have wheedled themoon out of him if she had tried. He teased Annette by telling her shewould have to be an old maid, and stay home to take care of her fatherand mother.
Grandmother Van Kortlandt came down. She laid off her mourning and woreher black velvet gown with its English crown point lace. GrandmotherUnderhill came too, but she wore black silk with her pretty fine lacefichu that she had been married in herself. Uncle David, and AuntEunice, who wore a gray satin that had been made for her eldest son'swedding. There were Underhill cousins by the score, some Bounetts fromNew Rochelle, some Vermilyeas, for no one really worth while was to beslighted.
The day had been very fine and sunny. That was a sign the bride would bemerry and happy and pleasant to live with. And when the evening fell thegreat lawn was all alight with Chinese lanterns that a second cousin inthe tea trade had sent Dolly. All the front of the big old house wasilluminated. It was square, with a great cupola on top of the secondstory, and that was in a blaze of light as well.
The Underhills all went up early. Steve was very proud of his mother,who had a pretty changeable silk, lilac and gray, and Joe had given hera collar and cuffs of Honiton lace, to wear at his wedding, he said.
They went in to see the bride when she was dressed. Of course she wasbeautiful, a pretty girl couldn't look otherwise in her wedding gear.Her veil was put on with orange blossoms and buds, and delicatelyscented. There was a wreath of the same over one shoulder and across herbosom. Her hair was done in a marvellous fashion, and looked like agolden crown.
How the carriages rolled around and the silks rustled up and down thestairs. There were gay voices and soft laughs, and presently word wassent that the Reverend Dr. De Witt had arrived. Then the immediatefamily went down. Dolly stooped and kissed Hanny and told her she mustnot feel a mite afraid. The young men filed out. Stephen took Dolly,just putting her white-gloved hand on his arm as if it was the mostprecious thing in the world. Joe, smiling and really much handsomer thanStephen, though you couldn't persuade Dolly to any such heresy; thenDoctor Hoffman and the others. They seemed to float down the broadstairs. The rooms were very large, but oh, how full they were! Theprocession walked through the back parlor; Stephen and Dolly and thelittle girl went straight up to Dr. De Witt, who stood there in his gownand bands, a sweet, reverential old man. The bridesmaids and groomsmenmade a half-circle around. There was some soft beautiful music, then asilence. Dr. De Witt began. Dorothea Beekman and Stephen DecaturUnderhill promised each other and all the world, to love and cherish,and live together according to God's holy ordinance all their lives.
The little girl held the flowers and listened attentively. She had anidea there must be a great deal more to it and was almost disappointed,for she could not understand that it included all one's life. Dr. DeWitt bent over and kissed the bride with solemn reverence. Then Stephenkissed his wife. There was a great deal of kissing afterward, for thenew husband kissed the bridesmaids, and the groomsmen had a right tokiss the bride. The mothers had their turn next, and afterward all waslaughing confusion.
In the midst of this Philip Hoffman leaned over Margaret.
"I believe you kiss the bridesmaid, too," he said, in a serious fashion,and touched her soft red lips with his. Margaret's face was scarlet, andher breath seemed taken away.
They made a pretty semicircle afterward, and all the guests came up withgood wishes. There were so many elegantly dressed people that the littlegirl was half dazed. I forgot to tell you that she wore her string ofgold beads, and they always had a wedding flavor after that.
Presently the procession re-formed and went out to the dining-room,where the table ought to have groaned, if tables ever do. There weresome immaculate black waiters who handed one thing after another. Thebride cut the cake of both kinds--pound cake like gold, and fruit cakerich enough to give you indigestion. And this wasn't the regular supper.
The bride had to grace the head of every table. What merry quips andjests there were! People were really gay and happy in those days. No onethought of being bored, they had better manners and kindlier hearts, andenjoyment was a duty as well as pleasure. The musicians were playingsoftly in the hall. By and by the elder people, who had a long drive totake and who had passed their dancing days long ago, began to saygood-by to the bridal couple. In the upper hall a table was piled withwhite boxes tied with narrow white ribbon, containing a bit of thebride's cake, and a maid stood there handing them to the guests. You putsome under your pillow and dreamed on it. If the dream was delightfulyou might look for it to come true. If it was disagreeable you felt sureyou didn't believe in such nonsense.
Then the dancing commenced. There were three large rooms devoted tothis. Several of the old men went up-stairs to Mr. Beekman's specialroom to have a smoke and a good game of cards. But oh, how merry theywere down-stairs! They danced with the utmost zest because they reallyliked to.
The little girl danced, too. Steve took her out first, and she wentthrough a quadrille very prettily. Then it was Joe, and after thatDoctor Hoffman begged her mother to let her
dance just once with him,and though she was a little afraid, she enjoyed it very much. Dollyintroduced her to ever so many people, and said she was her littlesister.
"Am I really?" said Hanny, a little confused.
"Why, yes," laughingly. "And one reason why I wanted to marry Stephenwas because he had so many brothers. Now they are all mine, five ofthem."
The little girl studied a moment. "It's queer," she said with a smile,"but I have one more than you. And are you going to have Margaret, too?"
"Yes, and your mother and father. But I am going to be very good and nottake them away. Instead, I shall come to see you and have my littlepiece. I'm quite in love with Benny Frank. And Jim's a regularmischief."
Jim did wish, when he saw all the pretty girls, that he was a grown manand could dance. Ben found some men to talk to, and Mr. Bond, who was ina large jewelry establishment, told him about some rare and preciousstones. Old Mrs. Beekman made much of them and said she envied Mrs.Underhill her fine boys.
There was supper about midnight. Cold meats of all kinds, salads,fruits, and ice cream, to say nothing of the wonderful jellies. Tea andcoffee, and in an anteroom a great bowl of punch.
After that Mrs. Underhill gathered her old people and her young people,and said they must go home. Joe promised he would look out for George,and Margaret was to stay to the bridesmaid's breakfast the next morning.
Dolly slipped a ring on the little girl's finger.
"That's a sign you are _my_ little sister for ever and ever," she said,with a kiss.
"Can't I ever grow big?" asked Hanny seriously.
Mr. Beekman laughed at that.
"You must come _down_ and see me," he exclaimed. "We're going to movenext week, and we always take Katchina. Come and have a good time withus."
The little girl was asleep in grandmother's arms when they reached home.And the old lady gently took off her pretty clothes and laid her in thebed.
"She's by far the sweetest child you've got, Marg'ret," she said to Mrs.Underhill.
That was not the end of the gayeties. Relatives kept giving parties, andthe bridesmaids were asked. Margaret began to feel as if she knew DoctorHoffman very well. He liked Annette, too. Perhaps he would marryAnnette. They had all been saying, "One wedding makes many."
It seemed so queer to be without Stephen. The little girl began torealize that they had somehow given him away, and she did not quiteenjoy the thought. He and Dolly came down and stayed two days, and, oh,dear! Dolly was the sweetest and merriest and funniest being alive. Sheplayed such jolly tunes, she sang like a bird, and whistled like abobolink, could play checkers and chess and fox and geese, and shebrought Jim a backgammon board.
They talked a good deal about building a house way up-town. Mr. Beekmanhad offered Dolly a lot. John said it was going to be the finest part ofthe city. Stephen couldn't really afford to build, but they would liketo begin in their own home. Property was getting so high down-town thatyoung people like them, just beginning life, must look around andconsider.
"You just go up-town, you can't miss it. And Mayor Harper is going tomake a beautiful place of Madison Square. The firm I am with count onthat being the fine residential part," declared John.
"We can't afford much grandeur on the start," says Dolly, with charmingfrankness. "When we get to be middle-aged people, perhaps----"
Mrs. Underhill is very glad to have her so prudent. She will make a finewife for Stephen.
Stephen took his new wife up to Yonkers to spend a Sunday, so that AuntCrete would not feel slighted. She seemed quite an old lady. And thoughit was cold and blustering they walked up on the hill where father's newhouse was to be built, by and by, a lovely place for the children andgrandchildren to cluster around a hearthstone.
Meanwhile Margaret was learning to cook and bake and keep house. Shepractised her music diligently, she kept on with her French, and shebegan to read some books Dr. Hoffman had recommended. There were callsto make and invitations to tea, and a Christmas Eve party at one of herschoolmate's. Joe said she must let him know when she wanted an escort,and John was ready to go for her at any time.
It did not seem possible that Christmas _could_ come around so soon.Santa Claus was not quite such a real thing this year, so many giftscame to the little girl by the way of the hall door. But she hung up herstocking all the same, and had it full to the topmost round. There was abeautiful set of dishes, and they came with best love from "Dolly andStephen." There was cloth for a pretty new winter coat, blue-and-blackplaid, some squirrel fur to trim it with, and a squirrel muff.
Among the gifts bestowed on Margaret was a box of lovely hothouseflowers. There was only "Merry Christmas" on the card.
Stephen and Dolly came to the Christmas dinner, but they strenuouslydenied any knowledge of it. Mrs. Underhill had all her family together,and she was a happy woman. In truth she was very proud of Stephen'swife.
Grandmother Van Kortlandt had come to make a visit. Aunt Katrina wasdown also staying with her son, as the two old ladies found it ratherlonesome now that there were no active duties demanding their attention.And Grandmother Underhill had sent the little girl her Irish chainbedquilt, finished and quilted.
The Dean children came in during the afternoon to exchange notes andtell a grand secret. Their aunt and two cousins were coming fromBaltimore. Bessy was quite a big girl, fourteen, and Ada was ten. Theirmother had said they might have a real party of boys and girls, not justa little tea party and playing with dolls; but real plays with forfeits.
"You know I've just studied with all my might and main, and mother saidif I had all my lessons and a good record that I could have the thing Iwanted most, if it didn't cost too very much. And I said I wanted a realparty."
"It will be just splendid!" declared Hanny.
"And we've been counting up. We have seven cousins to ask. And the girlsat school--some of them. I wish we knew some more boys. Oh, do you thinkJim would come?"
"I'll ask him if you would like."
"Oh, just coax him. I suppose Benny Frank will feel that he's too old.But he's so nice. Oh, do you s'pose John Robert Charles' mother wouldlet him come? Oh, there! I promised to call him Charles, but I thinkRobert's prettier, don't you? And mother said she'd write theinvitations on note-paper. And she has some lovely little envelopes."
That did look like a party.
"I think John Robert Charles is real nice," said Hanny timidly. "But Iam afraid of his mother."
"Oh, so is he, awful! Yet she isn't real ugly to him, only cross, and sodreadful particular. She makes him go out and wipe his feet twice, andwear that queer long cloak when it rains, and that red woollen tippet.She bought red because it was healthy; he said so. He wantedblue-and-gray. She lets him come over to our house sometimes, and he cansing just splendid. But the boys do make fun of him."
Poor John Robert Charles often thought his life was a burden on accountof his name and his mother's great virtue of cleanliness. He was notallowed to play with the boys. Ball and marbles and hopscotch weretabooed. He could walk up and down and do errands, and that with goingto school was surely enough. Then she exaggerated him. His white collarswere always broader; if trousers were a little wide, his were regularsailor's. She bought his Sunday suit to grow into, so by the secondwinter it just fitted him. His every-day clothes she made. And oh, shecut his hair!
It is very hard to be the daughter of such a mother, a rigid,uncompromising woman with no sense of the fitness of things, of harmonyor beauty, or indulgence in little fancies that are so much to a child.Quite as hard to be the son. Charles had everything needful to keep himwarm, in good health, and books for study. When it rained hard he hadsix cents to ride in the omnibus. And he did have the cleanest house,and the cleanest clothes, and, his mother thought, a very nice time.
Luckily there were no boys this end of the block. They were quite grownup, or little children. But there were enough below to torment the poorlad. In the summer when the charcoal man went by they would sing out:
"J
ohn Robert Charles, what did you have for breakfast?" and the refrainwould be, "Charcoal."
"What did you have for dinner?" "Charcoal."
"How do you keep so clean?" "Charcoal."
Early this autumn the boy had made a protest. Day after day he said itover to himself until he thought he had sufficient courage.
"Mother, why don't you call me just Charles, as my father does?"
His mother's surprise almost withered him. "Because," when she hadfound her breath, "John is after _my_ father, who was an excellent man,and Robert was for the only brother I ever had, and Charles for yourgrandfather Reed. If you grow up as good as any of them you'll have nooccasion to find fault with your name."
Yet boys at school called him Bob, and he really did enjoy it. He wentto a very nice, select school where there were only twenty boys.
He had made quite an acquaintance with the Dean girls. He could playhouse, and they had such delightful books to read.
"And the party must be some time next week. Thursday, mother thought,would be convenient. I should give the invitations out on Monday," Josiesaid. "And, oh, try to coax Jim."
The cousins came. Hanny saw them on Sunday, and on Monday two littlegirls went round with a pretty basket and left pale-green missives atthe houses of friends. There was one for Ben also.
"H-m-m," ejaculated Jim. "A baby party. Will they play with dolls?"
"Oh, Jim! it's going to be a real party with refreshments. Of coursethere won't be dolls."
"Washington pie and round hearts."
The tears rushed to Hanny's eyes.
"Never mind about him," said Ben, "I'll go. I'll be your beau. And seehere, Hanny, it's polite to answer an invitation. Now you write yoursand I'll write mine, and I'll leave them at the door."
Hanny smiled and went up-stairs for her box of paper.
Jim gave a whistle and marched off; but when he saw the pretty Baltimorecousin, he reconsidered, though he was afraid Lily Ludlow would laugh athim when she heard of it.
Margaret dressed the little girl in her pretty blue cashmere, and shefelt very nice with her two brothers. Most of the children were ten andtwelve, but the two cousins were older. Bessie Ritter was quite used toparties and took the lead, though the children were rather shy at first.
They played "Stage-coach," to begin with. When the driver, who stood inthe middle of the room, said, "Passengers change for Boston," every onehad to get up and run to another seat, and of course there was one whocould not find a seat, and he or she had to be driver. That broke up thestiffness. Then they had "Cross Questions," where you answered for yourneighbor, and he answered for you, and you were always forgetting andhad to pay a forfeit. Of course they had to be redeemed.
Charles Reed came, though his mother couldn't decide until the lastmoment. He looked very nice, too. He had to sing a song, and really, hedid it in a manly fashion.
But the little girl thought "Oats, peas, beans," the prettiest of all.It nearly foreshadowed kindergarten songs. The children stood in a ringwith one in the middle, and as they moved slowly around, sang:
"Oats, peas, beans, and barley grows, 'Tis you nor I nor nobody knows How oats, peas, beans, and barley grows. Thus the farmer sows his seeds, Thus he stands and takes his ease, Stamps his foot and claps his hands And turns around to view his lands; A-waiting for a partner, A-waiting for a partner, So open the ring and take one in, And kiss her when you get her in."
The children had acted it all, sowing the seed, taking his ease,stamping, clapping hands, and whirling around. They looked very prettydoing it. Bessy Ritter had asked Ben to stand in first and he hadobligingly consented. Of course he chose her. Then the children sangagain:
"Now you're married you must obey, You must be true to all you say, You must be kind, you must be good, And keep your wife in kindling-wood. The oats are gathered in the barn, The best produce upon the farm, Gold and silver must be paid, And on the lips a kiss is laid."
The two took their places in the ring, and Jim next sacrificed himselffor the evening's good and chose another of Josie's cousins. Then JohnRobert Charles manfully took his place and chose Josie Dean. So theywent on until nearly all had been chosen. Then Mrs. Dean asked them outto have some refreshments. They were all very merry indeed. Mr. Deansang some amusing songs afterward, and they all joined in several schoolsongs.
"I've just been happy through and through," admitted Charles. "I wish Icould give a party. You should come and plan everything," he whisperedto Josie.
It was time to go home then. There was a Babel of talk as the littlegirls were finding their wraps, mingled with pleasant outbursts oflaughter. Mr. Dean was to take some of the small people home, and Jimobligingly offered his escort. It had not been so _very_ babyish.
Ben wrapped his little sister up "head and ears," and ran home with her.How the stars sparkled!
"It's been just splendid!" she said to her mother. "Don't you think Imight have a party some time, and Ben and all of us?"
"Next winter, may be."
Her father looked up from his paper and smiled. She seemed to have growntaller. What if, some day, he should lose his little girl!
The very next day Mr. Whitney announced that he was going to take theDeans and their cousins and Nora to the Museum. He wanted the littlegirl to go with them. Delia was visiting in Philadelphia. He promised,laughingly, to have them all home in good season.
A Little Girl in Old New York Page 12
