In the course of the next day the invitations came in due form. Mr. Worcester was invited also. Cousin Fanny’s magic had not been over-estimated: he yielded to its power; for he told the girls, when they showed him their notes, that, if they learned their lessons well during the two days that were to intervene before the party, they should go under his escort.
The girls were half wild with excitement. There was nothing to mar their happiness. Susan had so kindly tried to make her cousin feel that she did not care at all about going, and was so much interested in the necessary preparations for her dress, that Carrie’s pleasure was not quite spoiled, as Florence at one time had feared it might be. Yet her regrets that Susan could not go were so sincere that the latter, even without an invitation, was happier than she had been for many weeks; for she began to feel that Carrie had not ceased to love her altogether.
The morning of the anxiously-looked-for day at last dawned, but Mr. Worcester was not at the breakfast-table. The girls were dreadfully afraid that he was ill. Never had they felt so great an interest in his health before; but in a short time they learned the cause of his non-appearance at table. He had left a note for them, which he had intrusted to Miss Forester, telling them that he had been called away suddenly and unexpectedly on business and should not return in season to accompany them to the party; but he had made arrangements for a carriage to convey them to Mrs. Sidney’s, and he hoped they would have a pleasant evening.
The morning wore slowly away. It was in vain that Carrie attempted to study. Her head was too full of the delights of the evening to permit her to devote herself to her lessons; and it must be confessed that neither she nor Florence acquitted themselves remarkably well in Arithmetic or History.
At the close of the morning session, Miss Forester informed them that, as they had broken the conditions of perfect recitations, they had forfeited the right to go to the party, and she should consequently countermand Mr. Worcester’s order for the carriage which was to have conveyed them to Mrs. Sidney’s. The disappointment of the girls may be readily imagined. Their expostulations were numerous but ineffectual, and their anger against Miss Forester was fierce indeed.
“If Mr. Worcester were at home, I know he would let us go,” persisted Florence.
“I am head-teacher in his absence,” replied Miss Forester; “and, since you have not recited perfectly, I shall not let you go.”
Carrie cried, and Susan attempted to comfort her, for Florence had no time to devote to consolation. She was not so easily disheartened. She said nothing, but proceeded to act. She had always an abundance of pocket-money; for her father kept her liberally supplied, and she had long since learned that “money is power.”
During her practice-hour in the afternoon, while Miss Forester was engaged in school, she stole out to the livery-stable and made an arrangement with the keeper to send a carriage a half-hour later than Mr. Worcester’s order. She explained to him the circumstances of the case, and assured him that Mr. Worcester, had he not been absent, would have allowed them to go, and that he would not be offended at their disobeying Miss Forester. These assurances, together with a liberal bribe, induced him to agree to have a carriage in waiting at the appointed hour, a little distance from the house.
Having accomplished this, on her return she made one of the chambermaids her confidant, and promised to pay her well if she would be in readiness to let her in after the party, promising to be back at one o’clock. The girl readily agreed to do so; and when her arrangements were all completed, Florence informed Carrie of what she had done.