All-of-a-Kind Family Uptown

by Sydney Taylor

  “That doesn’t mean I have to lend it to you. You’ve got your own party dress to wear—your blue one.”

  “It’s all crumpled. I couldn’t possibly wear it tonight.”

  “So iron it!”

  “I would, but it’s too tight on me. It ripped the last time I wore it. Right under the arm.”

  “That’s not why it ripped, and you know it. It’s just that you’re very careless. You’ll wear my dress just once, and it’ll look like a rag. Whatever you wear gets like that.”

  “Oh, please, Ella! Just this once! I swear I’ll never ask for another thing as long as I live!”

  “That’s what you said the last time.”

  “But this time I really mean it. Gosh! All the other girls have brand new dresses to wear, and all I have is that old blue thing. Everybody’s sick of seeing me in it.”

  “No. Positively no!”

  “Aw, come on. Be nice. I’ll be careful with it, I promise. And I’ll wash and iron it for you first thing tomorrow.”

  “It’s no use, Henny. You can keep on begging me till doomsday, but this time I’m not giving in.”

  Henny shrugged her shoulders good-naturedly. “Okay, if that’s the way you feel about it.” She went off to her room.

  Ella watched her go. Now why did she give in so suddenly? she asked herself.

  Henny did not really go to her own room. She went, instead, to the tiny hall bedroom which Ella and Sarah shared. Unlike the other bedrooms, this one had a door, always kept locked, which opened on the outside hall. It was this door which interested Henny. With one quick jerk, she slipped the bolt out of its socket and crept back to her own room.

  All the while she was bathing, Ella grew more and more remorseful. Why did I have to be so mean? Henny’d look so pretty in my dress, with her gray-green eyes and golden curls.

  Meanwhile Henny, in her blue dress, was pirouetting before the family. “How do I look?” she asked.

  “Not bad,” Mama replied, “but don’t you think you should have ironed the dress?”

  “I didn’t bother, Ma, because I was sure Ella was going to lend me hers.”

  Mama shook her head. “You’re supposed to wear your own dress. Come, take it off. I’ll iron it for you.”

  “But I can’t now, Ma. I haven’t got time. Rose made me promise I’d be there before the boys come.”

  Scraps of the conversation came through the bathroom door. That was Henny, Ella told herself, always taking things for granted. No, she steeled herself, she had been quite right not to lend Henny her dress.

  “Well, so long, everybody.” Henny picked up her coat.

  “Have a good time,” called Mama.

  “What! At a party with boys! It’s sure to be a flop!” The door slammed behind her.

  The hall carpeting muffled Henny’s steps as she tiptoed to the unlocked door of the hall bedroom. Once inside, she threw open the closet door. How beautiful Ella’s dress looked! Dazzlingly white and fresh and dainty! It was just begging to be worn. Hurry! Hurry! She tore off her own dress and slipped into Ella’s. She wasn’t worried about Ella; she was busy in the bathroom. But Sarah might come in any minute, and she always stuck up for Ella. Snatching up her coat and her own dress, she sped down the stairs.

  A whisper of conscience pricked at her. You have no right doing this. And what’ll you do if Ella finds out? She won’t. I’ll take good care of it, and I’ll put the dress back. She’ll never know the difference. Henny shrugged off her uneasiness. I’ll worry about it later. She hurried along to Rose’s house.

  The girls were all gathered in Rose’s bedroom by the time Henny arrived. They fluttered about like a flock of giddy birds, primping and turning before the mirror. Heads turned briefly to admire the newcomer. “Henny, you look gorgeous!” “New dress?” Then someone said, “The boys are here already! They all came—every single one of them!”

  “Then what are you hanging around in here for?” demanded Henny.

  The girls eyed one another. They felt so safe in here, all together like this. To venture out into the parlor where the boys were waiting! Everyone looked at Henny. “Oh, come on!” she cried scornfully. With a toss of her curls, she swept out of the room. The others followed close behind.

  The party just couldn’t seem to get started. All the boys gathered on one side of the room, the girls on the other. The boys kept laughing uproariously at nothing at all, slapping and pummeling away at one another. “Some party!” Henny said disdainfully. “Everyone standing around doing nothing!”

  After a while she became aware of a boy staring at her from across the room. She stared back boldly, till he had to turn his eyes away. Ha! You lost! Henny said to herself, triumphantly. He’s got nice twinkly eyes. Nice hair too, black and slicked back. She tugged at Rose’s arm. “See that fellow over there? I’m going over and introduce myself.”

  “No, Henny, you mustn’t!”

  “Why not?”

  “A girl’s supposed to wait until the boy comes over to her, that’s why. He’ll think you’re awfully fresh.”

  “Well, somebody’s got to make the first move.”

  A second later she was staring down at Mr. Slick Hair. “Hello. I’m Henrietta—Henny for short.”

  The boy jumped to his feet. “My name—er—is Ed,” he stammered, his face turning red. Sheepishly he put out his hand. But he seemed glad she’d come over. Henny could tell. Somehow she felt glad too. “Come on,” she cried gaily, “introduce me to your friends.”

  “She didn’t want us to invite boys. Now look at her!” Millie said hotly to Rose. “Picks out the best-looking one in the whole room.”

  “Why didn’t you go over yourself?” Rose retorted. “Nobody stopped you.”

  In a little while boys and girls were jabbering away together. Some grouped themselves around the player piano and sang the latest songs. Soon a new roll of dance music was inserted into the piano, and a few adventurous couples swung into a foxtrot.

  The girls could tell right off that the boys hadn’t had much practice. They kept stepping all over the girls’ feet. Quickly Henny took over. Running from one boy to another, she gave them dancing lessons right then and there. Her manner was so friendly and gay that none of the boys seemed to mind. They appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely.

  Afterward, when each boy had had his chance, Henny sat down on the sofa and waved her handkerchief before her flushed face. “Am I hot!” she cried. Instantly half a dozen boys rushed to fetch her a cool drink.

  Henny was having a fine time. The boys hovered about talking and joking with her as if they had been friends forever. But all the while, she was pleasantly aware that the attractive Ed kept looking at her.

  “She’s so popular,” a girl commented enviously.

  “Why shouldn’t she be?” Rose said. “She’s so lively and so much fun. And she’s pretty.”

  “Aw, she’s just a big show-off!” Millie said with malice. “Look at the way she’s making up to that Edward.”

  “You’re just jealous, Millie,” Rose answered promptly.

  A sudden commotion interrupted Millie’s reply. Someone had found a piece of rope, and a game of tug-of-war was in progress. Three boys in a line pulled at one end of the rope—and there was Henny, with Ed and another boy, holding fast to the other.

  “And that’s not showing off, I suppose,” sneered Millie. “Tomboy!”

  Straining and grunting, the contestants pulled away. “Come on, you lazybones! Pull!” The line swayed, now this way, now that. “You’ll break something for sure!” Rose cried out, worried. Inch by inch, Henny’s side seemed to be gaining. A sudden fierce tug and the line swerved against the refreshment table. “Hey, watch out!” Rose screamed. Slam! Bang! Bump! The cake dishes rattled, the glasses danced crazily, and the tall pitcher of iced tea rocked. Sw-a-ssh! A shower of tea and lemon slices splashed over the tablecloth and down to the floor. The startled players piled up in a heap.

  Rose surveyed the mess in di
smay. “It’s a lucky thing my ma is out getting the ice cream. She’d have a fit if she saw this! Quick, everybody, let’s clean up before she gets back!”

  In no time at all the floor was mopped, and the table set to rights. Rose refilled the pitcher with more iced tea.

  “Look!” Millie pointed at Henny. “Look what you did to yourself!”

  Henny glanced down. Big splotches of tea stains were spread across Ella’s party dress. In a panic, she dashed off to the kitchen, with Rose at her heels.

  First they tried washing it with plain water, then soap and water. No use; the stains stood out more vividly than before. “We’re just making it worse,” Henny said ruefully.

  “Gosh, Henny, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Henny replied, with a sinking feeling. She slumped into a chair. “The worst part of it is, this is Ella’s dress. I never should have come. Then it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “But if you hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have met Ed.”

  Henny didn’t answer; she was too upset.

  Rose went on talking. “He’s the youngest one in his class, but he gets the highest marks.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’ll be fifteen in January.”

  Henny stared at Rose in disbelief. “Fifteen! Why, that’s six months younger than me! He’s nothing but a baby! Can you beat that! Wasting my time with a baby! And I thought he was so nice, too!”

  She felt angry—at Ed—at everybody! Girls were stupid, anyway, making such a fuss over a bunch of silly boys! To think that for this she had to go and ruin Ella’s beautiful dress! She snapped at Rose. “You can tell the girls for me, they’re welcome to Ed. They can have him for a present!”

  Once more she fell to examining the tea-stained frock. It was absolutely hopeless trying to wash out tea stains, she realized desperately. Why, even when Mama wanted ecru-colored curtains instead of white, she always dyed them with tea …

  “I ought to go back, Henny,” Rose was saying apologetically. “After all, it is my party.”

  Henny made a sudden grab for her. A thought had struck her like lightning—dyed them with tea. “No, Rose! Wait a minute! I’ve got an idea! But I’ll need your help!”

  “All right. What do you want me to do?”

  “Get me lots and lots of tea!” Henny exclaimed.

  Rose looked at her blankly. “Tea? What for?”

  “I’m going to stain the dress.”

  “Are you crazy! Look what the tea did already!”

  “That’s just it! Instead of having tea stains in different places, I’ll stain it all over!”

  “But what good will that do? It won’t be white. It’ll be sort of tan.”

  Henny waved her hands gleefully. “Ecru, you mean!”

  “What about Ella? What’ll she say?”

  “It’s better to have an ecru dress than a stained white one. Come on, we’re just wasting time. Start making lots and lots of tea! And hurry!”

  It wasn’t long before they were both bent over the wash tub. Clad in Rose’s bathrobe, Henny lowered the party dress into the strong tea solution. They watched intently as the golden color seeped through the floating whiteness.

  “Think it’ll come out all right?” Rose queried nervously.

  Henny wasn’t too sure, but she made her voice sound confident. “ ’Course it will!”

  Slowly she kept swishing the dress around. The minutes ticked by. “Better take it out,” Rose cautioned. “It’ll get so dark it’ll look more like coffee.”

  “Oh, stop worrying!” Henny took a deep breath. “Well, here goes!” She held the dress up high out of the water.

  Rose put her hands over her eyes. “I’m too scared to look!”

  Anxiously Henny examined the dress, first on one side, then on the other. “It’s perfect!” She laughed aloud in delighted relief. “What did I tell you?” Simply perfect!”

  Rose’s hands dropped away from her face. “It is! Thank heavens! I swear, Henny, one of these days you’re going to scare me to death!”

  Next they hung the dripping dress on the line outside the kitchen window. “Lucky there’s a nice breeze blowing,” Henny said happily. “It’s such thin material it’ll be ready for ironing in no time.”

  The kitchen door opened, and in came Rose’s mother with the ice cream. “What happened to you?” she asked the bath-robed Henny.

  “Oh, we spilt things. My dress got all wet.”

  “That’s a shame! But Rose can lend you one of hers meanwhile. We don’t want you to miss the party. I’ll iron the dress for you as soon as it’s dry.”

  “Oh, thanks an awful lot,” Henny replied gratefully.

  The rest of the evening was very gay. Rose’s mother brought in ice cream and cake, and the young people ate till not a speck was left. Everybody agreed that the party was a huge success. When the time came for good-bys, they hated to leave. And no one was more reluctant than Henny.

  Rose’s mother had ironed the dress beautifully. “It’s such a pretty dress!” she remarked as she turned it over to Henny.

  I only hope Ella thinks so, Henny prayed as she walked home with the gang.

  At her doorstep, she bade them all a hearty good night and crept stealthily up the stairs. She stopped on the landing. Everything was quiet, but a streak of light glimmered at the sill of the kitchen door. Mama must be waiting up for her. Quickly she changed into her own blue dress. She slung Ella’s dress over her arm and covered it up carefully with her coat. She opened the door.

  “Well, Henny,” Mama looked up from her knitting, “did you have a good time?”

  “Oh, it was all right.”

  “Yes? Well, it’s late. You’ll tell us all about it tomorrow. Better go straight to bed. Ella’s asleep already.”

  As Mama went to lock the door, Henny slid past and hurried into her room. She hung Ella’s dress up in her own closet, tidily smoothing out any wrinkles. Tomorrow morning it would be back in Ella’s closet.

  It was the following Sunday. Jules had invited Ella to a dance downtown. Ella looked forward to it keenly. It would be nice to visit the old neighborhood and meet many of her friends again. She hummed to herself as she dressed.

  In the parlor, Henny was crawling over the floor with Charlie on her back. “Giddyap horsie!” Charlie shouted.

  Ella’s humming came to an abrupt halt. “Where’s my white dress? I can’t find it! And what’s this?”

  The astonished exclamations could be heard in the parlor. The horsie stopped giddyapping and listened.

  “That must be your dress.” Sarah sounded equally perplexed. “Only it’s a different color. Ooh, it’s beautiful!”

  “The color is gorgeous!” cried Charlotte.

  “So creamy looking!” agreed Gertie.

  The horsie, with Charlie still on her back, poked her head into the bedroom.

  Ella held up her dress. “Look, Henny. Look what happened to my white dress!”

  Henny just stared.

  “Must be something in the material,” Gertie said.

  “Maybe it’s from the new camphor balls we put in the closets,” offered Charlotte.

  Ella shook her head in puzzlement. “I just can’t understand it. I know white turns yellowish if you don’t put bluing in the water. But I’ve never seen anything like this. Let’s show it to Mama.”

  “Mmmm! It certainly is peculiar, Mama said.

  Henny’s heart went thumpety-thump. Was Mama looking at her?

  “Well, anyway, the color is lovely,” declared Sarah. “I like it better than when it was plain white.”

  “So do I,” echoed Charlotte and Gertie.

  Only Ella was doubtful. “You think so? I don’t know. What do you think, Henny?”

  Henny found it difficult to answer. “I think it’s nice. And you know how boys are. Jules’ll think it’s a brand new dress.”

  “Come, Ella, try it on,” Mama said.

  So Ella put on the dress, and the whole
family ohed and ahed in admiration.

  The bell rang. “That’s Jules!” Ella flew to open the door.

  Jules entered, looking very handsome in a navy-blue suit, with a brand-new straw hat under one arm.

  “Hello, Jules. How are you?” The family greetings showered down upon him.

  “Thank you. I’m fine,” he replied very politely. He stood stiffly by the parlor door, fumbling with a long, thin tissue-paper package.

  “You look so nice in your new suit, Jules,” Ella said.

  “I always say if a man doesn’t look good in a navy-blue suit, then he just wouldn’t look good in anything,” Mama remarked.

  Jules smiled in embarrassment. “Here, Ella,” he said, thrusting his package into her hands. “I think this will look nice on your dress. It’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen.”

  Ella unwrapped the tissue paper as the girls all pressed close to see. Out came a single red rose. “Oh, it’s lovely, Jules. Just lovely!” Ella exclaimed.

  Jules grinned. “Some day, when I’m rich, I’ll buy you dozens and dozens of them.”

  Jules and Ella had long since gone. The younger children had just been sent to bed. Now Mama, without saying a word, took hold of Henny’s arm and led her firmly into her own bedroom. Shutting the door, she turned and said very quietly, “All right, Henny. Now let’s hear all about it. No dress ever got that color by itself.”

  Henny squirmed unhappily. Her voice was low. “I made it that color, Ma. I dyed it. With tea.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Mama said. “But why?”

  “I had to, Mama. It got all splashed with tea at Rose’s party. It looked a mess—all stained up.”

  “How did this happen?”

  Henny couldn’t bear to look at Mama. This was going to be the hardest part of all to tell—how she had lied and stolen Ella’s dress.

  “Well, Henny!” Mama prompted.

  Shamefacedly, Henny told the whole story. “I feel terrible, Ma. I know it was a mean thing to do. I wanted to tell Ella about it a hundred times—but I just couldn’t get started.”

  Mama looked very severe. “It was very bad, and I expect you to own up to Ella and ask her to forgive you. I know you didn’t deliberately intend to be wicked, but the dress was not yours. Lucky for you the color came out right.”