"Well, of course, if you can't, you can't," said Linda, "and we shan't expect them. You may write a kind of round-robin letter and send it to me, and I'll send it to somebody else, who'll pass it on to the next. That'll only take you one stamp, and you must go without a pennyworth of chocolates."
The guests were to arrive at half-past three o'clock, and the moment dinner was over, the girls hurried to their bedrooms for the very important ceremony of changing their dresses. Linda's thick, straight, brown locks had been wetted and plaited in the tightest possible braids the night before, to give it the required wave. Nina Forster had even tried the experiment of screwing hers up in curl papers; but the hard, round knobs had stuck into her head, and made her too uncomfortable to sleep, so, after tossing about uneasily for an hour, she could bear it no longer, and had pulled them out with a solemn vow to relinquish the idea of ringlets in the future. Marian, whose long beautiful auburn hair was generally brushed stiffly back from her face and worn in a neat pigtail, left it loose for once, and allowed Gwennie to tie it with two large bows of light-blue ribbon to match her sash; an alteration much appreciated by the girls, who declared they scarcely recognized her. Connie had little vanity, and, being arrayed the first of anybody, she flitted about among the various bedrooms like a small moth, giving free criticisms of the others' costumes.
"Yes, that's a very pretty dress, Linda," she remarked. "White muslin over a pink slip suits you, though it rather reminds me of a dressing-table or a baby's cradle, all the same; I want to hang a pin cushion on to you! Sylvia, if you'd grown another half-inch they'd have had to let down a tuck. I like the little daisy pattern and the rows of narrow lace; they're rather sweet. You must wear the daisy brooch you got on your birthday. You should see Brenda! Her dress was so stiffly starched I couldn't fasten it for her; I had to fetch Mercy, and she opened the buttonholes with a pair of scissors. Jessie Ellis has on a pale-green silk, and she's almost afraid to sit down for fear of soiling it. I hate things that won't wash. Ta, ta! I'm going to see Marian. Gwennie spilled a whole bottle of scent over her clean muslin, but luckily her other had just come back from the laundry. She's sewing the buttons on it now."
The girls were allowed to go into the garden to await their friends, and kept up an excited commentary on the list of arrivals.
"There's Marian's mother! and she's brought a little one with her, such a darling, the image of Gwennie, only far prettier. That must be Mrs. Ellis and Jessie's brother. How terribly shy he looks! I don't wonder; the only boy in a girl's school! That's Sybil Lake's eldest sister; she used to come here herself once. There's Mr. Cameron; I thought he wouldn't stay away. And there are Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick and Miss Winnie. I wish Mr. Cecil had come too. Who are these who've just got out of a cab?"
"Father and Mother," replied Sylvia, jumping to her feet. "And why, surely, they've brought Aunt Louisa with them!"
It was actually Aunt Louisa herself, who was shaking hands cordially with Miss Kaye, and gazing about her with a complacent expression, as if she were remembering that it was all due to her persuasions that her niece was a pupil at Heathercliffe House, and congratulating herself still upon the wisdom of her plan.
She greeted Sylvia most affectionately, asked which were Linda and Mercy, had quite a pleasant chat with Miss Arkwright on the subject of Education, and seemed altogether to be enjoying herself immensely. Sylvia was delighted to have the opportunity of introducing her father and mother to Mr. and Mrs. Marshall and Dr. Severn, who were among the guests, and she was not satisfied till she had taken them the entire round of the house and garden, that they might see for themselves the places she had so often described.
Tea was served in the garden, the girls helping to pass cups and hand plates, luckily without any mishaps, though Connie Camden nearly upset the cream, which was only saved through the quickness of May Spencer; and little Greta Collins, who had been told to carry round a sugar basin, offered it to Mr. Cameron, and, as he was too busy talking to notice her, dropped three lumps into his cup and went away, an unpleasant surprise for him when he discovered it, as he did not take sugar. Sadie and Elsie Thompson were supremely happy in the possession of their father, whose ship had arrived at Liverpool just in time to allow him to come to the prize giving. It was quite pathetic to see how they clung to his hands, and would scarcely let him out of their sight the whole afternoon, and the girls were glad to hear that he was going to take the two children away for a short holiday without the guardianship of the stern aunt.
"We're to go to Liverpool first," said Elsie gleefully to Sylvia. "And Daddy'll show us all over his big ship. We'll see the engines, and the compass, and his cabin, and we're to have tea on the upper deck. He says we may talk through his speaking trumpet, and sound the foghorn, and turn the wheel just a tiny piece. Then we're going a long way in the train to stay at a farm in the country, quite alone with Daddy. Won't it be fun? He's going to send you an Indian necklace, because we told him you'd been so kind to us, and your mother'd sent us such a lovely cake on Sadie's birthday. He's got it locked up in his cabin on the ship, but I don't think I ought to have told you, 'cause it's to be a surprise."