"I hope that's a compliment, but how can you expect me to remember the rhymes of my childhood?"
The days went by so fast that Ruth could hardly keep the run of the calendar. They were full days, with hard work at school, delightful rides on Peter Pan with Arthur or his father to accompany her, and pleasant afternoons with the girls at one house or another. Then there were important letters from her father and Uncle Jerry which necessitated lengthy replies, and frequent conferences with Miss Burton and Mrs. Hamilton.
On the night of the Candle Club party the girls met first at Dorothy's house, and went out into the stable together. A large room on the second floor had been given up to the boys who had furnished and decorated it to suit their taste and their opportunities. An old piano, begged for by Frank when the Marshalls were buying a new one, stood under one of the electric lights and looked well-used. That it had outlived its most tuneful days was not to be denied, but Arthur could still coax college songs out of it, and for miscellaneous strumming and tunes with one finger it was invaluable. It was also a convenient place on which to leave sweaters, hats and books, and altogether the boys considered it one of the most valuable of their possessions.
The furniture of the club room could hardly be called ornamental, but it was certainly comfortable. A couple of steamer chairs, a roomy couch covered with bright cushions, and an ancient bookcase offered an impartial welcome to the lazy and the studious, and bore mute witness to the fact that many happy hours had been passed there. The boys had made the room gay with banners, and trophies of past victories, and red curtains and a few rugs added to the general cheerfulness.
Mr. and Mrs. Marshall went out to the stable with the girls, and as they went up the narrow stairs there was a shout of laughter from the club room, laughter so mirth-compelling that the girls giggled involuntarily. At Mr. Marshall's peremptory knock there was a sudden stillness; then the door opened a crack and in a choked voice Arthur said, "Just hold the line a second, please, and we'll let you in."
Almost as he spoke there was a low, "all right now," from Joe, and Arthur threw the door wide open. For an instant the guests coming from the dark stairway into the brightly lighted room could hardly see; then as they took in the general appearance of their hosts the room rang with laughter.
The boys were all dressed in shirt-waists and skirts, with neat white collars and little bows of various kinds. The skirts came to the tops of their boots, and as they had donned the heaviest, biggest boots they could find, the result was amusing. They all wore frivolous little aprons, and on their heads jaunty white caps perched on hair which made the girls go off into fresh fits of merriment. It was the most wonderful hair-dressing the girls had ever seen; heavy braids, thick curls, even pompadours—and all made out of yarn.
"What happened that made you keep us waiting?" asked Ruth as she wiped real tears from her eyes.
"Betty fell over his skirt and had to fix it on again," said Phil with a twinkle, realizing that the girls hadn't yet taken in the full meaning of the performance.
Then it was the boys' turn to laugh, for, looking at Joe's red wig, the girls knew at once what Phil meant, and each hurried to pick out the imitation of herself.