“Well, it’ll have to go as far as it may, then. It cost twenty cents. That left five only for the white and gilt paper for my ruff and crown.”
“Was Queen Elizabeth fat?” asked Dorothy, from her now favorite perch upon the high wooden horse.
“What does that matter, whether she were or not? The plot is to act like a Queen when once you get her clothes on,” observed Winifred, judicially. “I wonder if you can do that, Flo. Or if it needs another yard of cloth to make you real stately—she ought to have a train, oughtn’t she—I might lend you another sixpence. If Miss Muriel would let me.”
“Don’t ask for it, Win. You’ve done so splendidly ever since—”
“That time I didn’t! Well, I’d rather not ask for it. Twenty-five cents was the limit she set.”
“Wants to stimulate our ingenuity, maybe, to see how well we can dress on twenty-five cents a week!” laughed Ernesta Smith, who had no ingenuity at all. “If it weren’t for Dolly here, I’d have to give it up, but she’s fixed me a lovely, spooky rig that’ll just make you all goose-fleshy.”
“What is it? Tell,” begged the others, but Ernesta shook her head. “No, indeedy! It’s the chance of my life to create an impression and I shan’t spoil it beforehand. It’ll be all the more stunning because I’m such a bean-pole. Dorothy says that Florrie and I must walk together in the parade.”
“Oh! I hope it will be a grand success!” cried Winifred, seizing Bessie Walters and going through a lively calisthenic exercise with her. “We’ve always wanted to have a Hallowe’en Party, but the faculty have never before said yes. It’s all Dorothy’s doings that we have it now.”
A shadow fell over Dolly’s bright face. It was quite true that she had suggested this little festivity to the good Bishop. She had told him other things as well which hurt him to hear and made him the more willing to consent to any bit of gayety she might propose. She had said:
“There is somebody in this school that doesn’t like me. Yes, dear Bishop, it’s true; though I don’t know who and I’ve tried to be friendly to everybody. That is to all I know. The high-up Form girls don’t appear to see me at all, though they’re friendly enough with lots of the other younger ones. I heard Edna Ross-Ross saying to another that all the strange, horrid things that had happened at Oak Knowe this autumn began with my coming. She’d been told that I was a charity scholar, belonging to one of the servants. She didn’t object to charity girls, so long as she knew they were of good family, but she drew the line at servants’ families. She said that Gwendolyn had heard you, yourself, tell Miss Tross-Kingdon that I was mischievous and she must look out for me.”