by Carol Norton
CHAPTER XXI. A VALENTINE PARTY
On Saturday afternoon, when Geraldine was leaving Colonel Wainright'shome at about one-thirty, she saw Danny O'Neil working at the summerhouse, where he was replacing some of the lattice work which had brokenunder the heavy weight of snow. Suddenly she remembered something Dorishad said when they had been planning the Valentine dinner: "I wish DannyO'Neil could be invited, but he probably wouldn't come. He thinks thatsome of us consider him merely a servant."
The city girl could not understand _why_ Doris wanted the boy, and sherealized that it was _her own_ attitude that was keeping him away. Thenshe remembered what Mrs. Gray had told her about his great loneliness forthe mother who had so recently died. Geraldine also knew what it was tobe motherless. Then, once again, she felt the sweet influence of realsympathy, and, turning back, she called: "Danny O'Neil, we girls aregiving a surprise Valentine party at Merry Lee's home tonight at six, andDoris particularly wants you to come with Alfred."
Then, before the amazed lad could reply, the girl turned and hurried downthe walk to where her brother waited in a cutter to drive her into town.On the way she told Alfred what she had said to Danny, and she asked himto persuade him to accept since Doris so wanted him.
"Sure thing, I will!" the boy replied heartily. "He's a mighty nice chap.Lots of talent, too, I should say. I was up in his room last night for awhile. He was carving book ends. I thought it mighty clever work."
Geraldine, upon reaching the Lee home, found the other girls there beforeher. The big, cheerful kitchen swarmed with them. They had agreed to wearwhite dresses with red sashes, and red ribbon butterfly bows in theirhair, but their aprons were of all colors.
Merry was giving orders. "Here, Doris, you crack these walnuts, will you?Bertha is going to make one of her famous nut cakes." Then sheinterrupted herself to say, "Oh, Gerry, hello! You've arrived just intime to--to--" She looked around to see what the newcomer could do.
"Send her over here to help me pare potatoes," Peg sang out. But Merrysaw, by the almost startled expression in the city girl's face, that shewould be more apt to cut her fingers than the humble vegetable, and soshe replied: "No, Peg, that's _your_ work. Gerry shall help me set thetable." Then she apologized: "I'm sorry to do the pleasantest thingmyself, but no one else knows where the dishes and things are."
"Oh, it's _all_ pleasant," Bertha commented, "when we're all together."
"What's our Rosebud doing?" Gerry sauntered across the kitchen to thestove where their prettiest member stood stirring something in a pot. The"our" proved how completely the city girl felt that she was one of them.
"Making Valentine candy," that maiden replied. "This is a sort of a whitefudge. It's ever so creamy when it's whipped. Just delicious with choppednuts in it. We're going to make heart shapes, then dip them in redfrosting."
For an hour they all worked busily at their appointed tasks; then Merryand Gerry called the others into the dining-room to see the table.
"Oh-oo, how pretty!"
"Girls, will you look at the red ribbons running from that heart-shapedbox in the middle to each place! What's the idea, Merry?"
"You'll know later," their president laughingly informed them. "That's asurprise for everybody which Jack and I planned last night."
Then Geraldine exclaimed: "Why, Merry, you have made a mistake, haven'tyou? There are sixteen places instead of fifteen."
"Nary a mistake," Doris replied. "We have invited that pretty Myra Comelyand she has accepted." Then before the astonished Geraldine could say,"What? Invited a washwoman's daughter," Doris was hurrying on to explainhow it had happened. "Myra brought our laundry home this morning, and wehad quite a long visit. Merry was over at my house, and we both liked herever so much, and when she said that she had never been to a party, whywe just invited her to ours. I hope _you_ don't mind." There was a shadeof anxiety in the voice of Doris as she glanced at the taller girl, whoseexpression was hard to read.
There was indeed a struggle going on in Geraldine's heart, but good sensewon out. She slipped an arm affectionately about her friend as she said:"Anyone who is good enough for _you_ to associate with is good enough forme!" The other girls had drifted back to the kitchen to resume theirtasks, and these two were alone. "Doris, dear," Gerry said, "I told yourfriend, Danny O'Neil, I hoped he would come, and I made Alfred promise tobring him."
How the pretty face of Doris brightened. "That was mighty nice of you!"she exclaimed. "Now I _know_ he will come. I telephoned him early thismorning, but he seemed to think you wouldn't care to associate with him;that is, not socially."
Then an imperative voice called from the kitchen: "Say, you two ornamentsin there, come on out and help with this chicken."
At six o'clock all was in readiness, and the seven girls, divested ofaprons, waited the ringing of the door bell with cheeks as rosy as theirribbons. They had the house quite to themselves, as Mrs. Angel hadobligingly invited Merry's parents to dinner and Katie had been only tooglad to spend the afternoon and evening with her friends below thetracks.
"Here comes somebody. Who do you suppose will arrive first?" Merry hadjust said when the front door burst open and Jack ushered in Myra Comely.Merry had asked her brother to bring her, but, almost before the door hadclosed, the bell was jingling, and all of the others arrived at once.
In the whirl of excitement that followed, with everybody welcomingeverybody else, no one noticed that Danny had drawn Doris to one side andwas giving her a package. "It's a valentine that I made for you.Book-ends that I carved," he said in a low voice. "Don't open it here."
Geraldine glanced in their direction just as Doris lifted sweet, browneyes and smiled her appreciation at the boy. But before she could puzzleabout the meaning of it, Jack had taken her hand and was leading her intothe living-room, which was festooned with strings of red paper hearts.Jokingly he began: "Fair Queen o' Hearts, I'm the Jack o' Hearts, won'tyou please tell me where you've hidden the tarts?"
What a throng of them there was as they swarmed into the brightly lightedliving-room.
"Don't sit down, anybody," Merry warned. "The party-part is going tostart right away. But first you have to draw for partners." Then sheexplained that she would pass a basket to the boys that would containhalves of valentines, and that at the same time Gerry would pass one withthe other halves to the girls. "You are each to take one, and the two whohave the parts of one valentine are to be partners. The girls are tostand still and the boys to do the hunting."
For ten merry minutes boys darted about matching halves of valentines.The result was rather disappointing to several of them, for Rose was_not_ for Bob, and Jack drew Myra Comely, while Gerry, of all the queertricks of Fate, was Danny O'Neil's partner; but they took it in goodpart, and when Merry put an appropriate song record on the victrola theyall marched out to the dining-room. The girls felt quite repaid for theirefforts when they heard the sincere exclamation of approval which theboys uttered. Then Merry, as hostess-in-chief, explained that each couplewas to select seats and that they should do this thoughtfully, as theribbons had at the other ends prophecies as to their future. There weretiny bows on the ribbons for girls.
Amid much laughter from the fair ones and "wise cracks" from the boys,places were chosen, and then when they were all seated, one by one theribbons were pulled and out of the box-heart on the middle of the table asmall red paper heart was drawn, and on it, in jolly jingle, was aprophesy for the future.
As each was drawn, it was read aloud and was followed by much laughterand teasing, especially when Bob read:
"A dark brunette shall be your wife, And she will lead you _such_ a life Of woe and worry and of strife."
"Oh, I say, Rose," Bob grinned across the table at the girl who satopposite him, "are _you_ going to let that dark brunette get me?"
"Read yours, Rosie," Merry called gaily, and so Rose read:
"A long, lank spinster you will be; A cat your only company
; Your favorite pastime drinking tea."
"Oh, _that's_ a horrid one," Their prettiest pushed it from her andpretended to frown. "I'm going to choose another place. I really wantedto sit where you are, Peg. Read yours, so I'll know what I _might_ havehad." Gleefully Peg complied:
"You'll marry a gay young millionaire, You'll travel together just everywhere, And in all your life have never a care."
"Hurray for me!" Peg sang out, but Bob put in: "Well, I'm glad Rosedidn't choose _that_ ribbon. A grocer doesn't often get to be amillionaire."
And so around the table they read their futures, then the dinner wasserved, and so excellent was every dish that had been prepared by thefair hands that Jack was led to exclaim: "Lucky will be the swains whowin these cooks for their valentines through life." Then, to the actualembarrassment of one of them, he asked: "Gerry, which of these goodthings did _you_ cook?"
But, before the city girl, who knew _nothing_ whatever about cooking,could acknowledge the fact, Merry said gaily: "Gerry and I did thedecking of the table this time. Some other time we'll show you what _we_can do as cooks."
Then, to her own amazement, Geraldine heard herself saying: "I'm going togive a party soon all by myself, and everyone who is here now isinvited." Her glance even included Myra Comely and Danny O'Neil. Then sheconcluded with, "I'll let you know the date later."
Her brother was delighted to think that his sister had entered into thesocial life of the village with so much evident enjoyment, and that nightwhen they reached home he took occasion to tell her how pleased he hadbeen with the impromptu invitation. They were standing alone in theliving-room in front of the fireplace where they had stood on that firstday when the "milkmaids and butter-churners" had come to call. Alfredsmiled as he thought of that other day which seemed so long ago, butwisely he did not remind his sister of her rudeness and snobbishness onthat other occasion. Brightly she was saying, "Oh, Alfred, I'm going towrite Dad tomorrow and tell him what a wonderful time I'm having and howglad I am that he wanted us to spend the winter in the town where he wasborn." Indeed _some_ influence, not clearly understood by Alfred, wasworking miraculous changes in his sister.
