“Do you s’pose they’re real fairies?” questioned Brida McCarthy eagerly.
Nobody could answer. In fact, just at the moment, words were scarce. Interest was centred on the visitors that were coming up the front steps. The glimpses of the beautiful little creatures as they passed the curtained doorway increased the children’s curiosity, and, during the brief time devoted to the removal of wraps, tongues ran lively. The wild surmises came to a sudden halt when the tiny boy and girl appeared bowing and curtsying, being presented to the company as “Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Lucio and Princess Chiara.”
The brother and sister at once proceeded to give a unique performance in song, dance, and pantomime, until the young guests were beside themselves with delight.
After this entertainment came the wonderful party tea, arranged and served in Mrs. Jocelyn’s happiest style, with eleven little candle-girls atop of the birthday cake, and ice cream in the form of fairies.
When everybody was stuffed with good things, the dainty Prince and Princess remained for an hour to play with the other children, “just like real folks,” as Elsie Meyer declared.
The last game of hide-and-seek came to a merry end, with the finding of the roguish little Princess, who was only eighteen inches tall, curled up snugly back of a small flower pot, inside of a jardiniere. Then the girls and boys bade good-bye to their royal companions, and the guests were all sent home in the beautiful Jocelyn carriage. The stately grays had to make a good many trips before the Intermediate Birthday Party was really over; but the last load was finally driven away, jubilant voices sounding back through the dusk after the children had passed from sight.
“It was just lovely, from beginning to end,” breathed Leonora.
Ilga Barron was quite forgotten.