The “witching witches” looked charming, Judge Gordon told them, in their sibyl costumes, all yellow and brown and white, with different badges of their mysterious orders. They had made pointed hats of pasteboard covered with crepe paper and ribbon, and the narrow white and yellow ribbons that they tied in a bow under their young chins were very fetching, according to the judge. “If I wanted to have my fate revealed,” said he, “I certainly would have no one consult the oracle but one of these charming nymphs.”
“We are not nymphs at all, Daddy,” Jean objected. “We are sibyls, but not necessarily ugly or old, and if we want to adapt history, why not?”
“Why not, indeed? It is the fashion now to write up history or biography at the author’s pleasure and I doubt if some of the actors in the tales that are told would recognize themselves. I’m sure that you are a great improvement on the historic sibyl.”
The day had not been a very pleasant one, but the girls were thereby consoled for the fact that they were too busy to take the usual Saturday morning hike. A strong, cool wind blew making Miss Haynes say that she would not find many of the little birds flying. This was some consolation, for the girls had been interested in the migration of the warblers, birds tiny and beautiful, of which they had scarcely heard before and never seen to recognize. But clouds cleared away in the afternoon and the wind ceased blowing. The furnace fire that the judge had made in the morning was allowed to go down as the day warmed, and the attic was made pleasant with very little heat, all its windows open, for it was past the middle of May.
There were two main reasons for serving the dinner first of all. First, it would have been difficult to manage carrying the food to the attic with the presence of guests there. Second, nothing ever started up very easily before refreshments, Jean declared, and it would be much easier to have the stunts and games after the meal.
The Wizards arrived masked, and were met by the whole seven sibyls, unmasked. Yellow draperies fluttered against the long black wizard draperies or robes, as the girls flew around, congratulating them on arriving in costume and together, and directing where the girls that were coming should put their light wraps and find mirrors. Jean’s cheeks burned rosily with excitement. It was beginning all right, at least.
When the last guest had arrived, Jean, Molly and Nan slipped away, to help take up the baskets of last things, and direct their placing. Jimmy Standish slipped off his black robe long enough to carry up a large kettle of hot peas, the big, flat basket with three large pans of chicken pie, and pitchers of lemonade. Under Mrs. Gordon’s capable management, nothing was omitted. A table in the corner was ready for the hot food.
Then Leigh gave the word that each Wizard was to take his lady and proceed to the attic. “You will meet your hostess at the top of the stairs,” she said, “and you will find your place cards at the table.”
Exclamations of pleasure were heard by the happy sibyls as the procession reached the attic and Jean waved them in the direction of the long table.
“Gee, Jean, this is some attic!” said a Wizard.