The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER XIII.

  DREAMS AND WARNINGS

  "It's all ovah now!" exclaimed Lloyd, stifling a yawn and looking aroundthe deserted drawing-room, where the candles burned low in theirsconces, and the faded roses were dropping their petals on the floor.Mr. Forbes and Doctor Tremont had just driven away to catch the midnightexpress for New York, and the last guest but Rob had departed.

  "It's all over with that gown of yours, too, isn't it?" asked Phil,glancing at the airy pink skirt, down whose entire front breadth ran awide, zigzag rent. "It's too bad, for it's the most becoming one I'veseen you wear yet. I'm sorry it must be retired from public life soearly in its career."

  Lloyd drew the edges of the largest holes together. "Yes, it's ruinedbeyond all hope, for I stepped cleah through it when I tripped on thestairs, and it pulled apart in at least a dozen places, just as a thinveil would. But you'll see it again, and on anothah maid of honah.M'haley nevah waited to see if I was hurt, but pounced on it and beganto beg for it befoah I got my breath again. She said she could fix itgood enough for her to weah to her mammy's wedding. She would 'turn ithine side befo'' and tie her big blue sash ovah it. Imagine! She'll beheah at the break of day to get it."

  "Do you know it is almost that time now?" asked Betty, coming in fromthe dining-room with seven little heart-shaped boxes. "Here's our cake,and godmother says we'd better take it and go to dreaming on it soon, orthe sun will be up before we get started."

  "Now remembah," warned Lloyd, as Rob slipped his box into his pocket andbegan looking around for his hat, "we have all promised to tell ourdreams to each othah in the mawning. We'll wait for you, so come ovahearly. Come to breakfast."

  "Thanks. I'll be on hand all right. I'll probably have to wake the restof you."

  "Don't you do it!" exclaimed Phil. "I'll warn you now, if you're waking,_don't_ call me early, mother, dear. If you do, to-morrow won't be thehappiest day of all _your_ glad New Year. I'll promise you that. Howabout you, Bradford?"

  "Oh, I'm thinking of sitting up all night," he answered, laughing, "toescape having any dreams. Miss Mary assures me they will come true, andone might have a nightmare after such a spread as that wedding-supper. Ican hardly afford to take such risks."

  A moment after, Rob's whistle sounded cheerfully down the avenue andAlec was going around the house, putting out the down-stairs lights.Late as it was, when they reached their room, Joyce stopped to smoothevery wrinkle out of her bridesmaid dress, and spread it out carefullyin the tray of her trunk.

  "It is so beautiful," she said, as she plumped the sleeves into shapewith tissue-paper. "As long as an accident had to happen to one of us itwas lucky that it was Lloyd's dress that was torn. She has so many shewouldn't wear it often anyhow, and this will be my best evening gown allsummer. I expect to get lots of good out of it at the seashore."

  "I'm glad it wasn't mine that was torn," responded Mary, followingJoyce's example and folding hers away also, with many loving pats."Probably there'll be a good many times I can wear it here this summer,but there'll never be a chance on the desert, and I shall have outgrownit by next summer, so when I go home I'm going to lay it away inrose-leaves with these darling little satin slippers, because I've hadthe best time of my life in them. In the morning Betty and I are goingto pick all the faded roses to pieces and save the petals. Eugenia wantsto fill a rose-jar with part of them. Betty knows how to make thatpotpourri that Lloyd's Grandmother Amanthis always kept in the rose-jarsin the drawing-room. She's copied the receipt for me.

  "I'm not a bit sleepy," she continued. "I've had such a beautiful time Icould lie awake all the rest of the night thinking about it. Maybe it'sbecause I drank coffee when I'm not used to it that I'm so wide awake,and I ate--_oh_, how I ate!"

  One by one the up-stairs lights went out, and a deep silence fell on theold mansion. The ticking of the great clock on the stairs was the onlysound. The serene peace of the starlit night settled over The Locustslike brooding wings. The clock struck one, then two, and the long handwas half-way around its face again before any other sound but themusical chime broke the stillness. Then a succession of strangled moansbegan to penetrate the consciousness of even the soundest sleeper.Whoever it was that was trying to call for help was evidently terrified,and the terror of the cries sent a cold chill through every one whoheard them.

  "It's burglars," shrieked Lloyd, sitting up in bed. "Papa Jack! They'rein Joyce's room! They're trying to strangle her! Papa Jack!"

  Lights glimmered in every room, and doors flew open along the hall. Adishevelled little group in bath-robes and pajamas rushed out, Mr.Sherman with a revolver, Miles Bradford with a heavy Indian club, andPhil with his walking-stick with the electric battery in its head. Heflashed it like a search-light up and down the hall.

  At the first moan, Joyce had wakened, and realizing that it came fromMary's corner of the room, began to grope on the table beside her bedfor matches. Her fingers trembled so she could scarcely muster strengthto scratch the match when she found it. Then she glanced across the roomand began to laugh hysterically.

  "It's all right!" she called. "Nobody's killed! Mary's just having anightmare!"

  By this time Mr. Sherman had opened the door, and the blinding glare ofPhil's electric light flashed full in Mary's eyes. At the same instantLloyd opened the door on the other side, between the two rooms, andBetty and Mrs. Sherman followed her in. So when Mary struggled back towakefulness far enough to sit up and look around in a dazed way, theroom seemed full of people and lights and voices, and she tried to askwhat had happened. She was still sobbing and trembling.

  "What's the matter, Mary?" called Phil from the hall. "Were the Indiansafter you again?"

  "Oh, it was awfuller than Indians," wailed Mary, in a shrill, excitedvoice. "It was the worst nightmare I ever had! I can't shake it off. I'mscared yet."

  "Tell us about it," said Mrs. Sherman, soothingly. "That's the bestremedy, for the terror always evaporates in the telling, and makes onewonder how anything foolish could have seemed frightful."

  "I--was being married," wailed Mary, "to a man I couldn't see. And justas soon as it was over he turned from the altar and said, '_Now_ we'llbegin to lead a cat and dog life.' And, oh, it was so awful," shecontinued, sobbingly, the terror of the dream still holding her, "he--he_barked_ at me! And he showed his teeth, and I had to spit and mew andhump my back whether _I_ wanted to or not." Her voice grew higher andmore excited with every sentence. "And I could feel my claws growinglonger and longer, and I knew I'd never have fingers again, only justpaws with fur on 'em! Ugh! It made me sick to feel the fur growing overme that way. I cried and cried. Now as I tell about it, it begins tosound silly, but it was awful then,--so dark, and me hanging by my clawsto the edge of the wood-shed roof, ready to drop off. I thought Phil wasin the house, and I tried to call him, but I couldn't remember his name.I got mixed up with the Philip on the shilling, and I kept yelling,Shill! Philling! Shilling! and I couldn't make him understand. Hewouldn't come!"

  As she picked up the corner of the sheet to wipe her eyes Mrs. Shermanand the girls burst out laughing, and there was an echoing peal ofamusement in the hall. The affair would not have seemed half soridiculous in the daylight, but to be called out of bed at that hour tolisten to such a dream, told only as Mary Ware could tell it, impressedthe entire family as one of the funniest things that had ever happened.They laughed till the tears came.

  "I don't see what ever put such a silly thing into my head," said Mary,finally, beginning to feel mortified as she realized what an excitementshe had created for nothing.

  "It was Rob's talking about people who live a regular cat and dog life,"said Betty. "Don't you remember how long we talked about it to-day downin the clover-patch?"

  "You mean yesterday," prompted Phil from the hall, "for it's nearlymorning now. And, Mary, I'll tell you why you had it. It's a warning! Asolemn warning! It means that you must never, never marry."

  "That's what I thought, too," quavered Mary, so seriously that they a
lllaughed again.

  "I hope everybody will excuse me for waking them up," called Mary, asthey began to disperse to their rooms. "Oh, dear!" she added to Joyce,as she lay back once more on her pillow. "Why is it that I am alwaysdoing such mortifying things! I am _so_ ashamed of myself."

  The lights went out again, and after a few final giggles from Lloyd andBetty, silence settled once more over the house. But the terror of thenightmare had taken such hold upon Mary that she could not close hereyes.

  "Joyce," she whispered, "do you mind if I come over into your bed? I'mnearly paralyzed, I'm so scared again."

  Slipping across the floor as soon as Joyce had given a sleepy consent,Mary crept in beside her sister in the narrow bed, and lay so still shescarcely breathed, for fear of disturbing her. Presently she reached outand gently clasped the end of Joyce's long plait of hair. It wascomforting to be so near her. But even that failed to convince herentirely that the dream was a thing of imagination. It seemed so real,that several times before she fell asleep she laid her hands against herface to make sure that her fingers had not developed claws, and that nofur had started to grow on them.

  The dreams told around the breakfast-table next morning seemed tame incomparison to Mary's recital the night before. Rob had had none at all,which was interpreted to mean that he would live and die an oldbachelor. Miles Bradford had a dim recollection of being in anautomobile with a girl who seemed to be a sort of a human kaleidoscope,for her face changed as the dream progressed, until she had looked likeevery woman he ever knew. They could think of no interpretation for thatdream. Lloyd's was fully as indefinite.

  "I thought I was making a cake," she said, "and there was a big bowl ofeggs on the table. But every time I started to break one Mom Beck wouldsay, 'Don't do that, honey. Don't you see it is somebody's haid?' Andsuah enough, every egg I took up had somebody's face on it, like thosepainted Eastah eggs; Rob's, and Phil's, and Malcolm's, and DoctahBradford's, and evah so many I'd nevah seen befoah."

  "A very appropriate dream for a Queen of Hearts," said Phil, "andanybody can see it's only a repetition of Mammy Easter's fortune, the'row of lovahs in the teacup.' Tell us which one you are going tochoose."

  "It's Joyce's turn," was the only answer Lloyd would make.

  "And my dream was positively brilliant," replied Joyce. "I thought wewere all at The Beeches, and Allison, and Kitty, and all of us weremaking Limericks. Kitty began:

  "'There was a lieutenant named Logan, Who found one day a small brogan.'

  Then she stuck, and couldn't get any farther, and Allison had to besmart and pun on my name. She made up a line:

  "'So what will Joyce Ware if she meets a great bear?'

  Nobody could get the last rhyme for awhile, but after floundering arounda few minutes I had a sudden inspiration and sprang up and struck anattitude as if I were on the stage, and solemnly thundered out:

  "'And how can he shoot him with _no_ gun?'

  "In my dream it seemed the most thrilling thing--I was the heroine ofthe hour, and Lieutenant Logan took me aside and told me that thequestion which I had embodied in that last line was the question of theages. It had staggered the philosophers and scientists of all times.Nobody could answer that question--'how can he shoot him with no gun,'and he was a better and a happier man, to think that I had rhymed thatringing query with the proud name of Logan. It's the silliest dream Iever had, but you can't imagine how real it seemed at the time. I was sostuck up over his compliments that I began flouncing around with my headheld high, like the picture of 'Oh, fie! you haughty Jane.'"

  "Oh, Joyce, what a dream to dream on wedding-cake!" exclaimed Mary, witha long indrawn breath. There was no mistaking her interpretation of it.Everybody laughed, and Joyce hastened to explain, "It isn't worthanything, Mary. It'll never come true, for just before I camedown-stairs to breakfast I discovered my little box of cake lying on thetable under a pile of ribbons. It had been there all night. I hadforgotten to put it under my pillow. And," she added, cutting shortMary's exclamation of disappointment, "_your_ box lay beside it. We bothwere so busy putting away our dresses, and talking over the wedding thatwe forgot the most important thing of all."

  "Well, I'm certainly glad that mine wasn't under my head when I had thatdreadful nightmare!" exclaimed Mary, in such a relieved tone that everyone laughed again. "I couldn't help taking it as a warning."

  "Joyce and I must have changed places in our sleep," said Betty, whenher turn came. "She was making verses, and I was trying to draw. But Idid my drawing with a thimble. I thought some one said, 'Betty alwayslikes to put her finger in everybody's pie, and now she has a fatethimble to wear on it, she'll mix up things worse than ever.' And Isaid, 'No, I'll be very conservative, and only make a diagram of the waythe animals should go into the ark, and then let them do as they pleaseabout following my diagram.' So I began to draw with the thimble on myfinger, but instead of animals going into the ark they were people goingover Tanglewood stile into the churchyard, and then into the church--agreat procession of people in the funniest combinations. There was oldDoctor Shelby and the minister's great-aunt, Allison and LieutenantStanley, Kitty and Doctor Bradford, Lloyd and Rob, and dozens and dozensbesides."

  "Lloyd and Rob," echoed the Little Colonel, her face dimpling. "Think ofthat, Bobby! You nevah in yoah wildest dreams thought of thatcombination, now did you?"

  "No, I never did," confessed Rob, with an amused smile. "Betty has justput it into my head. She is like the old woman who told her children notto put beans in their ears while she was gone. They never would havedreamed of doing such a thing if she hadn't suggested it, but, ofcourse, they wanted to see how it would feel, and immediately proceededto fill their ears with beans as soon as her back was turned."

  "You can profit by their example," laughed Lloyd. "They found that ithurt. It would have been bettah if they had paid no attention to hersuggestion."

  "Moral," added Rob, "don't do it. Betty, don't you dare put any moredangerous notions in my head."

  Phil's turn came next. "My dream is soon told," he said. "I had beensleeping like the dead--a perfectly dreamless sleep--till Mary woke usup with her cat-fight. That aroused me so thoroughly that I didn't go tosleep again for more than an hour. Then when I did drop off at nearlymorning, I dreamed that there was a spider on my head, and I gave it atremendous whack to kill it. It was no dream whack, I can tell you, buta real live double-fisted one, that made me see stars. It actually madea dent in my cranium and got me so wide awake that I couldn't drop offagain. I got up and sat by the window till there were faint streaks oflight in the sky. I did the rest of my dreaming with my eyes open, so Idon't have to tell what it was about."

  "I can guess," thought Mary, intercepting the swift glance he stoleacross the table at something blue. This time it was the ribbon thattied Lloyd's hair, a big bow of turquoise taffeta, knotted becomingly atthe back of her neck. Lloyd, unconscious of the glance, had turned tospeak to Miles Bradford, to answer his question about Sylvia Gibbs'swedding.

  "Yes, it really is to take place to-night in the colohed church. M'haleywas heah befoah we were awake, to get the dress and to repeat theinvitation for the whole family to attend. There are evah so many whitefolks invited, M'haley says. All the Waltons and MacIntyres, of co'se,because Miss Allison is their patron saint, and they swear by her, andall the families for whom Sylvia has washed."

  "It is extremely fortunate for those of us who are going away so soonthat she set the date as early as to-night," said Doctor Bradford."Twenty-four hours later would have cut us out."

  Phil interrupted him. "Don't bring up such disagreeable topics at thetable, Bradford. It takes my appetite to think that we have only onemore day in the Valley--that it has come down to a matter of a few hoursbefore we must begin our farewells."

  "Speaking of farewells," said Rob, "who-all's coming down to the stationwith me to wave good-by to Miss Bonham? She goes back to Lexington thismorning."

  "We'll all go
," answered Lloyd, promptly. "Mothah will be glad to get usout of the way while the servants give the place a grand 'aftah theball' cleaning, and Joyce wants to see the girls once moah befoah shebegins packing, to arrange several things about their journey."

  "How does it happen that Logan and Stanley are not going with MissBonham?" asked Rob. "Isn't their time up, too, or can't they tearthemselves away?"

  "I thought you knew," answered Joyce. "Miss Allison arranged it all lastnight. You know she goes up to Prout's Neck, in Maine, for awhile everysummer, and this year Allison and Kitty are going with her. She hasoffered to take me under her wing all the way, and has arranged herroute to go right past the place where the summer art school is, on CapeCod coast. Lieutenant Logan and Lieutenant Stanley are staying over aday longer than they had intended, in order to go part of the way withus, and Phil and Doctor Bradford are leaving a day earlier to takeadvantage of such good company all the way home. Won't it bejolly,--eight of us! Kitty calls it a regular house-party on wheels."

  "I certainly envy you," answered Rob. "Miss Allison is the bestchaperone that can be imagined, just like a girl herself; and Allisonand Kitty are as good as a circus any day. I'll wager it didn't takemuch persuading to make Stanley stay over. He hasn't eyes for anythingor anybody but Allison."

  "He had eyes for Bernice Howe the night of Katie Mallard's musicale,"said Betty. "He scarcely left her."

  "Do you know why?" asked Rob in an aside. They were rising from thetable now, strolling out to the chairs and hammocks on the shady porch.He spoke in a low tone as he walked along beside her.

  "It is very ungallant for me to say such a thing, but between you and meand the gate-post, Betty, he was roped into being so attentive. BerniceHowe beats any girl I ever saw for making dates with fellows, andhandling her cards so as to make it seem she is immensely popular. It isan old trick of hers, and that night it was very apparent what she wastrying to do. Alex Shelby was there, you remember, and when she saw himtalking to Lloyd every chance he got, she didn't want it to appear thatshe was being neglected by the man who had brought her, and with alittle skilful manoeuvring she managed to bag the lieutenant'sattention. I've been wanting to ask you for some time, why is it thatshe seems so down on the Little Colonel?"

  "She isn't!" declared Betty, much surprised. "You must be letting yourimagination run away with you, Rob. There isn't a girl in the Valleyfriendlier and sweeter to Lloyd than Bernice Howe. You watch them nexttime they are together, and see. They've been good friends for years."

  "Then all I can say is that some girls have a queer idea of friendship.It's downright _catty_ the way they purr and rub around to your face,and then show their spiteful little claws when your back is turned.That's what I've noticed Bernice doing lately. She calls her all thesugary names in the dictionary when she's with her, but when her back isturned--well, it's just a shrug of the shoulders or a lift of theeyebrows or a little twist of the mouth maybe, but they insinuatevolumes. What makes girls do that way, Betty? Boys don't. If they haveany grievance they fight it out and then let each other alone."

  "I'm sure I don't know why," answered Betty. "I'll be honest with youand confess that you are right. Half the girls at school were that way.They might be fair and high-minded about everything else, but when itcame to that one thing they were--well, as you say, regular cats. Theydidn't have the faintest conception of what a David and Jonathanfriendship could be like. Even the ordinary kind didn't seem to bindthem in any way, or impose any obligation on them when their owninterests were concerned."

  "Deliver me from such friends!" ejaculated Rob. "I'd rather have a swornenemy. He wouldn't do me half the harm." Then after a pause, "I suppose,if you haven't noticed it, then Lloyd hasn't either, that Bernice isbitterly jealous of her."

  "No, I am sure she has not."

  "Then I wish you'd drop her a hint. I couldn't mention the subject toher, because it is an old fight of ours. You know how we've squabbledfor hours over it--the difference between the codes of honor in a girl'sfriendships and boys'. No matter how carefully I made the distinctionthat I meant the average girl, and not all of them, she always flaredinto a temper, and in order to be loyal to her entire sex, took up armsagainst me in a regular pitched battle. She's ordered me off the placemore than once, and yet in her soul I believe she agrees with me."

  "But, Rob, if that is a pet theory of yours that you go around applyingin a wholesale way, isn't it barely possible that you've made a mistakethis time and imagined that Bernice is two-faced in her friendship?"

  Rob shook his head. "She'll be at the station this morning. You can seefor yourself, if you keep your eyes open."

  "Now, to be explicit, just what is it I shall see?" retorted Betty. ButPhil interrupted their tete-a-tete at that point, and when they startedto the station an hour later, her question was still unanswered. BerniceHowe was there, as Rob had predicted, and Katie Mallard and severalother of the Valley girls who had enjoyed the hospitality of The Beechesduring Miss Bonham's visit.

  "It looks quite like a garden-party," said Miles Bradford to MissAllison, watching the pretty girls, in their light summer costumes,flutter around the waiting-room. "I don't know whether to compare themto a flock of butterflies or a bouquet of sweet peas. I am glad we aregoing to take some of them with us to-morrow, and wish--"

  Betty, who had turned to listen, because his smiling glance seemed toinclude her in the conversation, failed to hear what it was he wished.Bernice Howe, who was standing with her back to her, took occasion justthen to draw Miss Bonham aside, and her voice, although pitched in a lowkey, was unusually penetrating. At the same moment the entire partyshifted positions to make room for some new arrivals in thewaiting-room, and Betty was jostled so that she was obliged to dodge acorpulent woman with a carpet-bag and a lunch-basket. When she recoveredher balance she found herself out of range of Doctor Bradford's voice,but almost touching elbows with Bernice. She was saying:

  "We're going to miss you dreadfully, Miss Bonham. I always do missAllison's guests and Kitty's nearly as much as my own. They're so dearabout sharing them with me. Now some girls are so stingy, they fairlykeep their visitors under lock and key--that is, if they are men. Theywouldn't dream of taking them to call on another girl. Afraid to, Isuppose. Afraid of losing their own laurels. There's one of the kind."

  Betty saw her nod with a meaning smile toward Lloyd, and caught anothersentence or two in which the words, "Queen of Hearts, tied to herapron-string," gave her the drift of the remarks.

  "She's plainly trying to give Miss Bonham an unpleasant impression ofLloyd to carry away with her," thought Betty. "She's hurt because shewasn't invited to the coon hunt, and the other little affairs we had forthe bridal party. She never took it into consideration that what wouldhave been perfectly convenient at another time was out of the questionwhen the house was so full of guests and all torn up with preparationsfor the wedding. Lloyd had all she could do then to think of the guestsin the house, without considering those outside. It certainly is aflimsy sort of a friendship that can't overlook a seeming neglect likethat or make due allowances. Besides, if she feels slighted, why doesn'tshe keep it to herself, and not try to get even by giving Miss Bonham afalse impression of her? Rob is right. Boys don't stoop to such meanlittle things. In the first place they don't magnify trifles into biggrievances, and go around feeling slighted and hurt over nothing."

  "Here comes the train!" called Ranald, seizing Miss Bonham's suit-caseand leading the way to the door. There was a moment of hurriedgood-byes, a fluttering of handkerchiefs, a waving of hats. Then thetrain passed on, leaving the group gazing after it.

  "What are we going to do now?" asked Rob. "Will you all come over to thestore and have some peanuts?"

  "No, you're all coming up home with me," said Lloyd, "Miss Allison andeverybody. I saw Alec carrying some watahmelons into the ice-house, andthey'll be good and cold by this time. We'll cut them out on the lawn."

  Ranald excused himself, saying he had promised to take his Au
nt Allisonto the dressmaker's in the pony-cart, but Allison and Kitty promptlyaccepted the invitation for themselves and the two lieutenants. KatieMallard walked on with one and Joyce the other, Rob and Betty bringingup the rear. Lloyd still waited.

  "Come on, Bernice," she urged. "The watahmelons are mighty fine, andwe'd love to have you come."

  "No, dearie," was the reply. "I've a lot of things to do to-day, butI'll see you to-night at the darky wedding."

  "I'm mighty sorry you can't come," called Lloyd, then hurried on tocatch up with the others. As she joined Rob and Betty she feltintuitively they had changed their subject of conversation at herapproach. She had caught the question, "Then are you going to warn her?"and Betty's reply, "What's the use? It would only make her feel bad."

  "What's that about warnings?" asked Lloyd, catching Betty's hand andswinging it as she walked along beside her.

  "Something that Betty doesn't believe in," began Rob, "just as I don'tbelieve in dreams. Why wouldn't Bernice come with you?"

  "She said she had so much to do. Mistah Shelby is coming out latah. Heis going to take her to Sylvia's wedding to-night."

  "Speaking of warnings," burst out Rob, impulsively, "I'm going to giveyou one, Lloyd, whether you like it or not. Don't be too smiling andgracious when you meet Alex Shelby, or Bernice will be assaulting youfor poaching on her preserves. You must keep out of her bailiwick if youwant to keep her friendship. It's the kind that won't stand much of astrain."

  "What do you mean, Rob Moore?" demanded Lloyd, hesitating between alaugh and the old feeling of anger that always flashed up when hereferred to girls' friendships in that superior tone.

  "I am devoted to Bernice and she is to me. If you are trying to pick aquarrel you may as well go along home, for I'm positively not going tofuss with you about anything whatsoevah until aftah all the company isgone."

  "No'm! I don't want to quarrel," responded Rob, with exaggeratedmeekness. "I was merely giving you a warning--sort of playing Bansheefor your benefit, but you don't seem to appreciate my efforts. Let'stalk about watermelons."