THE PARTY
Randy had become a favorite among the girls at the school, and one and all declared that her frankness had been the trait which had first won their admiration.
"She always means what she says," said Nina Irwin. "I value a compliment which Randy gives, for she never flatters. If she says a pleasant word, it comes straight from her heart, and her heart is warm and loving."
Randy had made rapid progress in her studies, and it seemed as if her zeal increased as the months sped by. She had attended many concerts since the memorable one when she had given her single rose to Madame Valena, "and now the finest thing is yet to happen," she said in a letter to her mother.
Miss Dayton had sent out invitations for a little party to be given in honor of Miss Randy Weston, and in consequence there was much excitement at the private school.
To receive an invitation from Miss Dayton meant much, and Randy's friends talked of little else.
"What shall you wear, Nina," asked Polly Lawrence.
"Whatever mama suggests," replied Nina, with a laugh.
"Because," continued Polly, "I think we ought to dress, well—in a very showy manner, for Miss Dayton."
"Why, I do not see that," remarked another girl. "Miss Dayton dresses richly, but I should not say that 'showy' was a fitting word to apply to her refined taste."
"Indeed!" said Polly, sharply. "Well, I shall wear my red gauze over satin, and I fancy Peggy will not choose a very simple frock for the occasion."
"Just my blue silk, dear," Peggy remarked lazily, "and since you've all seen it you will not have to enthuse over it."
"What do you suppose Randy will wear?" asked Peggy.
"Something becoming, without a doubt," said Nina Irwin, "since everything becomes her."
At this point Randy entered, and the subject of conversation changed from dress to the lessons for the day.
"You always come with lessons prepared, Randy Weston," said Polly, "and you look decidedly cheerful, too."
"Why shouldn't I look cheerful, if I am ready for the recitations?" asked Randy, in surprise.
"Because," Polly answered, "it makes me cross to have to study, and you must work persistently to keep up such a record as you have this year."
"Miss Dayton helps me," Randy answered.
"But she cannot learn for you," said Nina Irwin, "and you seem to get on as well in those studies which are new to you, as in those which you had commenced in the district school."
"But I like all my studies," said Randy, "and anyone would be interested in new ones. There is another reason why I am working so diligently.
"Father and mother sent me here, believing that I would study faithfully. I should not be true to them if I wasted my opportunity. And little Prue is trying to be patient, although her funny little letters show how she misses me. I'll show you the last one which she sent me, only don't laugh at her original spelling, Nina. Remember, she is a little girl. Here it is:"
"DEAR RANDY:—
"How long wil it bee fore you cum hom I luv you an I wanto see you Me n Jonny slided on my sled an we ran intu a fense an got hurted I lern my lesons, but I cant spel big words yet When I say I want my Randy ma dont cry but her ize is wet and ant Prudence wipes her glassis Hi put sum gum in Jonys cap an it got stuk to his hare. When you cum hom I wil be so glad for I luv you
"Yor litle
PRUE."
"The cunning little thing," said Nina, "her funny letter shows just how they miss you at home, and how dearly she loves you, Randy."
"That is what I meant when I said one day to you, Nina that it was hard, and at the same time delightful to be here. I love father, mother and dear little Prue more than it is possible to say; I love the dear home, too. Of course it is not like the homes which I have seen here, but nothing can make it less dear to me," said Randy.
"I enjoy all the pleasures which Miss Dayton plans for me, and I have become attached to the school and to the pleasant friends which I have made here in the city; but sometimes in the midst of my study, sometimes when listening to rare music, the thought of home brings the tears, and for the moment, I am homesick, so homesick that I think I cannot stay.
"Then I remember that father and mother wish me to excel in my studies, and I crowd back the tears, and by reminding myself that with the spring I shall return, I try to be cheerful."
As the bell called the girls to their seats, Nina whispered as she passed,
"O Randy! The longer I know you, the more truly I love you;" and the whispered words made Randy very happy.
On the day of the little party the decorators converted the drawing-room into a veritable rose garden, glowing and sweet, the lovely pink blossoms sending out their fragrance as if doing their utmost to honor Randy, who, until that season, had known only the garden roses which blossomed near the farm-house door.
The lights were softened by delicate pink shades, and upon a pedestal beneath Aunt Marcia's portrait, stood a huge jardinière filled with roses the glowing petals of which seemed to repeat the color of the brocaded court gown in the picture.
In her little room, Randy, with sparkling eyes, and quick beating heart, stood before her mirror, mechanically drawing a comb through her soft brown hair. Her mind was far away and she did not seem to see the girl reflected there.
"If they were all here to-night,—" she murmured, and as the words escaped her lips, two bright tears lay upon her cheek.
"Oh, this will never do," said Randy, quickly drying the tears, and endeavoring to summon a smile.
"Mother and father would surely say,
"'Be cheerful to-night, Miss Dayton will wish it. Remember she is giving the party for you.'"
So, smiling bravely, she arranged her hair in the pretty, simple manner in which she usually dressed it, and proceeded to array herself in the white muslin which Janie Clifton had declared to be just the thing for a city party, and just the thing for Randy.
And Janie had spoken wisely. Nothing could have been more becoming, or served more surely to show Randy's fine coloring than the sheer muslin with its white satin ribbons.
As she stood looking at the transparent folds of the skirt, the tip of her shoe peeped from below the hem, and Randy laughed merrily. She had quite forgotten to change her street shoes for the silken hose and white slippers which Miss Dayton had given her.
"How could I forget them, the first pretty slippers which I ever owned?" She hastened to put them on, afterward surveying them with much satisfaction. They were such pretty slippers, decorated with white satin bows and crystal beading.
"Like Cinderella's," thought Randy, as she held back her skirts, the better to see them, and when later she paused on the stairway to look down upon the many rose hued lights in the hall below, she turned a radiant face toward Helen Dayton as she said:—
"Oh, how kind you are to give this lovely party for me, just me. I feel like Cinderella, only," she added laughing, "I am sure that I shall not lose my crystal slipper when to-night the clock strikes twelve."
"Nor shall you part with them at any time," Helen replied, "but keep them in remembrance of this night when you enjoyed your first party."
A fine trio they formed as they stood waiting to receive their guests; Aunt Marcia looking like an old countess in her stately gown of black velvet and diamonds, Helen, resplendent in turquoise satin and pink roses, and Randy in her white muslin and ribbons, a single rose in her hair.
Soon the young guests began to arrive, and very cordially were they greeted, Randy's bright face plainly showing how heartfelt was the pleasure which her words expressed as each new friend was presented.
One guest had been bidden to the party who had not yet arrived, and Helen Dayton could not refrain from occasionally glancing toward the door, with the hope of seeing the delinquent. The buzz of conversation and light laughter seemed at its height, when a late arrival was announced.
Miss Dayton heard the name, but Randy who was at the moment chatting with Nina Irwin, did not.
The young man in faultless evening dress made his way across the room to Aunt Marcia, then to Miss Dayton, then, with a merry twinkle in his eyes he turned to Randy who, still, talking with Nina, was unaware of his approach.
"Miss Randy," said a familiar voice, and Randy started, turned, then with eyes expressing her surprise and delight she said,
"O Jotham, truly you cannot guess how glad I am to see you."
"And do you think I can tell you with what pleasure I have looked forward to this evening?" Jotham answered.
"I have been longing to call upon you, but my days and evenings have been so completely occupied with study, that this is my first bit of recreation since I came to Boston in the fall, and until I received Miss Dayton's invitation, I did not know where I might find you."
Then Jotham was presented to Nina who in turn led him to a group of her friends where, surrounded by a bevy of bright faced girls, he seemed as much at ease as if his life had consisted of naught but social pleasures.
Randy turned, and meeting Helen's gaze she said,
"It seems to me that Jotham looks like a prince to-night."
"He has a charming manner," said Miss Dayton, "and I have always thought that he possessed a noble mind, that priceless gift which only One can give. Coronets can be purchased, but who can barter for true worth?"
In the shadow cast by a statue and leaning against its pedestal, stood Polly Lawrence, her flushed cheeks vieing with the scarlet gauze which she wore, a most unpleasant expression upon her small face, while her nervous fingers plucked to pieces a red rose which she had taken from her bodice and she angrily tapped the floor with her satin slipper. And what had occurred to mar the evening's pleasure for Polly Lawrence?
Merely the fact that she was not the only girl in the room to receive attention, and also that she had chosen a gaudy costume for the occasion, and was conscious that her choice had been unwise.
Shallow by nature, and without keen perception, she yet possessed sufficient good sense to see that she had not impressed her friends with the magnificence of her apparel, and her vanity received a thrust when a friend said to her,
"How sweet Randy Weston looks in her white gown and ribbons! One would know that she would never wear a gaudy dress."
Polly had made no reply, but in exasperation she thought,
"Every one admires Randy. I do believe that they would think she looked sweet in white calico."
There was, after all, a bit of excuse for Polly. Reared by her aunt, a woman with a character as shallow as that of her niece, Polly's vanity had never been curbed, rather it had been encouraged. She was allowed to choose her own costumes, her aunt rarely venturing a suggestion; and the milliners and dressmakers, reading the girl's vain character, encouraged Polly to purchase that which was most expensive, regardless as to whether it might be suitable or becoming.
Furs, designed apparently for a dowager, at once became her own, if only she could be assured that no girl of her acquaintance owned a set as costly, and upon all occasions it appeared to be her intention to wear more jewelry than any other person present.
Later, when all had repaired to the dining-room, Polly's displeasure was somewhat appeased when she found herself placed beside Peggy's brother, who was a thoroughly good fellow, and ever a gentleman, therefore he immediately proceeded to make himself very agreeable to Polly, although had he been given his choice of a companion he would most surely have chosen quite a different girl.
Beside Randy sat Jotham who declared himself to be "as happy as a king," and his tutor, the young professor, seemed equally charmed beside Helen Dayton, with whom he was exchanging reminiscences of college days.
"Do you remember a certain girl, Miss Dayton," he asked, "who on a memorable class day gave the pleasure of her company to a diffident student who in ecstasy at playing escort to the lovely girl and her dignified Aunt Marcia, nearly forgot all which he ever knew, managing only to stammer through an effort at conversation which must have completely bored her?"
"Pardon me, the girl could not truly have been bored," Miss Dayton replied, "else it would not be true that to-night she remembers every event of that delightful day with a pleasure which she has never found words to describe."
"Is that really true?" he asked, but other voices making a merry din allowed the answer to be heard only by the one for whom it was intended, and soon Helen was leading the conversation into channels in which all might take part, causing the gifted ones to show their sparkling wit, and coaxing the shy guests to talk, who would otherwise have been silent.
Miss Dayton possessed in a wonderful degree, the ability to help each person present to appear at his best, with the result that all were made happy and glad to proclaim that no home boasted as sweet a young hostess as Helen Dayton, or as grand a mistress as gracious Aunt Marcia, who dearly loved young people, and who was never happier than when in their company.
Peggy Atherton, aware that she was becomingly attired in her blue silk and forget-me-nots, was doing her best to coax a diffident youth to join in the conversation, and at the same time naughtily enjoying his blushing answers to her bright speeches.
Randy saw Peggy's roguish eyes, and wondered what it might be which so amused her, when a pause in the general conversation allowed the following to be heard,—
"Were you at the last symphony?" Peggy asked sweetly.
"Yes,—no,—that is I think I was, but I can't quite remember," was the halting answer.
"Oh, you would remember if you were really there," persisted Peggy, "because the program was extra fine and the solos were something to dream of."
"Yes, yes the music was er,—very er,—musical, and the soloist, that is, the one who sang a solo, was er,—the only one who er—sang alone, I believe."
Randy stifled a wild desire to laugh, for she saw plainly that Peggy was teasing the youth, who in his extreme diffidence, was appearing as if he were a simpleton, which was indeed far from the truth.
Peggy well knew that he was a bright young student, and she secretly admired his intellect, but she was an inveterate tease, and it amused her to see him blush, and to hear his faltering answers.
She did not mean to hurt him; only a thoughtless mirth tempted her to torment him; but to Randy, Peggy's conduct seemed very cruel, and she determined to save the luckless youth from further discomfort. Turning to Jotham, expecting as usual to find in him an ally, Randy said,
"I saw you talking with Cyril Langdon just before we left the drawing-room. He is ill at ease, because Peggy is teasing him, but when he chooses to talk he is very interesting. Do make Peggy stop, she is spoiling his evening. Ask him,—oh ask him about the Tech. athletics or anything, Jotham, can't you?"
Jotham, as usual, glad of an opportunity to please Randy, succeeded in drawing Cyril into a conversation which proved interesting to all, and made the boy forget his discomfiture.
Peggy was aware of a vague wish that she had been more merciful, and resolved another time to help, rather than hinder a conversation.
Later, when the gay little party returned to the drawing-room, Randy begged Miss Dayton to favor her friends with some music. Helen, ever ready to give pleasure, seated herself at the piano, Professor Marden standing beside her, ostensibly to turn her music, but in truth to watch her graceful fingers upon the keys.
Her audience was enthusiastic, and not to be satisfied with one selection. Helen smilingly acceded to their requests, and when she arose from the piano she was greeted with generous praise.
Among the happy faces Randy saw one less bright than the others. It was Polly Lawrence, and Randy wondered what had caused a frown upon the usually smiling face. "It would never do to ask her why she isn't enjoying my party," she said to herself, "but I do wish she looked happier. I am so happy this evening, that I wish everyone else to enjoy every moment of it. I believe I'll ask her to sing for us. She sings nicely, and perhaps she would be pleased to, if she knew we wished it."
Randy urges Polly to sing
Accordingly, Randy hastened to Polly who was standing apart from the guests, and looking as if in anything but a pleasant mood. Her face brightened, however, when told that it would be a pleasure to hear her sing, and after a little urging, she consented. She possessed a light soprano voice which had been carefully trained, and when she chose, she could sing most acceptably.
On this especial evening, it pleased her to do her best, and she delighted her friends with a number of songs, for which Miss Dayton played the accompaniments. Polly received unstinted praise for her singing, and she therefore, upon her return, told her aunt that the party was a success.
At the end of the drawing-room, Nina Irwin was merrily chatting with a number of her friends, and Polly hastened to join the group, where she was soon laughing as gaily as the others, and apparently as happy.
Near the centre of the room Miss Dayton and Randy, Jotham and Professor Marden stood, evidently engaged in the discussion of a most interesting subject, and as Aunt Marcia joined them, she was asked to give her opinion.
"What has been my greatest pleasure in life?" She smiled as she repeated the question, and turned for a moment and looked long and earnestly at her portrait, then she said,
"When that picture was painted and was first seen by my friends, some one remarked,
"'Oh, how dearly above all else Marcia prizes a gay life!'
"I have always enjoyed social pleasures," she continued, "but if I were to say that one thing, above all else, gave me true delight, I should say, that to make others happy had ever been my greatest joy."
"Pardon me, if I venture to say that that is the charm which has preserved your beauty," said the young tutor, gravely bowing to Aunt Marcia, who, sweeping a low courtesy, acknowledged the courtly speech which was uttered in such evident sincerity.
"And, in return let me say, that the young man who thinks it worth while to pay a graceful compliment to one who is quite old enough to be his grandmother, proves himself to be a worthy descendant of his talented father, a perfect gentleman of the old school," replied Aunt Marcia; and Helen saw the quick flush of pleasure on the professor's cheek. His love for his father amounted almost to worship, and Aunt Marcia could have chosen no word of praise which would have moved him so deeply, or pleased him more surely, than to thus have declared him, to be a "worthy descendant."
Other young people joined this central group, and Nina at the piano played softly a dreamy nocturne which seemed a gentle accompaniment to the conversation.
In the shadow of a tall jar of ferns Jotham was looking at Randy, and thinking that while the white party gown was very charming, it was also true that Randy at home in a pink sunbonnet had been well worth looking at.
"How serious you look," said Randy, "are you thinking that to-night's pleasure will mean many hours of hard study to-morrow, Jotham?"
"No, indeed," he answered with a laugh, "I am not allowing a thought of study to mar to-night's enjoyment. I was just wondering, Randy, why some girls are very dependent for a good appearance, upon what they wear, while one girl whom I know, can look equally well in a party gown or a gingham dress and sunbonnet."
Randy blushed as she said, "O, Jotham, has Professor Marden been teaching you to pay compliments, along with your other studies?"
"Indeed, no," was the answer. "He meant every word which he said to Miss Dayton's aunt, as truly as I meant what I said to you, and Randy," he continued, "you and I have been here in the city all winter, have seen its life and stir and bustle, and you have seen much of the social side of the problem which is puzzling me. Is it so much better, this city life, than the home life in the country? There, every busybody is interested in his neighbor; here, we are met on every hand by strangers who do not know, or wish to know anything in regard to us. Here a hundred strangers in the great railway stations are objects of but little interest. Randy, do you realize the commotion which one arrival with a hand-bag causes at the little station at home? I tell you, Randy, one is large in a little country town, and small, so small in a great city."
"One is never small, wherever he may be, in the hearts of his friends, Jotham," was the sweet reply, "but in regard to home, there is no place like it. I enjoy all the brightness, the study, the fine pictures which I have seen and the rare music which I have heard; but, Jotham, I am at heart a country girl, and while I like to be here, if I were to choose 'for always,' as little Prue says, I'd choose the mountains and the streams at home.
"I shall not leave behind the knowledge which I have gained. I shall be all the happier because of it, but home is home, isn't it, Jotham?"
"Indeed it is," answered Jotham, heartily.
And now the carriages were beginning to arrive, and in twos and threes the guests departed, assuring Randy and Helen that the evening had been one of rare pleasure.
Jotham and his tutor left together, promising their charming hostesses that they should soon find leisure for a call. And when the last guest had departed, and Randy, Helen, and Aunt Marcia looked about the flower scented rooms, Randy said, with a happy sigh,
"Oh, what a lovely, lovely party! I was sorry to see them go. I am not even tired. No one could be tired during such an evening."
"Dear Randy," said Helen, "it was indeed a pretty party, and well worth my effort to make it a success. You were an ideal little hostess, Randy, you did your part to perfection."
"Why, I was only just myself. I was not at all fine," said Randy in amazement.
"That is just the secret of your success," Helen replied. "Always be just your own true self, and no one in all the world would ask for more."