“Just leave that to me. I know the very thing, but I’m not going to tell you a word about it. You must all be my guests for next Wednesday night. How about it?”
Everybody was of course delighted and accepted at once.
Wednesday night finally arrived and with it another jolly party. Mr. Whittington’s surprise turned out to be the Russian Ballet, and as the girls watched the fascinating première danseuse as Pupin Fee (fairy doll) in that charming story dance, they were wild with delight, and Polly openly transferred her affection from Peter Pan. Lois remained faithful, and Betty never could make up her mind which one she loved the better.
“She might just as well be talking,” exclaimed Polly between acts. “I know just what she’s thinking with every move she makes. Oh, isn’t she precious!”
“I know what the next composition I write for Miss Porter will be about,” announced Betty.
“Oh, Bet, for pity sake stop talking about school. I’m in fairy land and I don’t want to come back,” Lois begged. “There goes the curtain up for the last act.”
The evening was over far too soon to please our
party and when Mr. Whittington said good-night, at the door of the theater, his guests left no doubt in his mind of their appreciation and enjoyment of the good time he had given them.
Best of all days of the vacation was Christmas. Polly and Lois were wakened at nine o’clock by Uncle Roddy’s knock.
“Get up, you lazy children! Merry Christmas!” he called. “Lois, I have your mother on the phone for you. Come and speak to her.”