“Are we late?” asked Ruth anxiously, pattering along faster on her amazing footgear. She thought the things harder to manage than snow-shoes.
“Oh, no,” answered the boy, gallantly offering an arm to each of the girls. And so escorted, they turned in at an open gateway, proceeded up a very neat box-bordered path, and found themselves in front of an open doorway that led into a tiny hall. From beyond came a sound of voices.
As they paused, releasing their guide the better to settle their bonnets before going in, a pretty maid in a very large white apron and cap to match came tripping down the hall. Smilingly she took the parasol, helped to untie the poke bonnets and asked them to leave their pattens in the corner of the hall. So they slipped off the clackety things with relief, and followed the maid toward the voices.
“I feel rather frightened,” Ruth whispered, and Rose nodded for answer. She looked a trifle flushed and nervous. Everything was so sort of hushed, as she confided to Ruth later.
At the door the two girls were met by a sweet-faced old lady in very full skirts, wearing a large lacy cap trimmed with ribbons on top of her white hair.
“I’m sure it’s most pleasant of you to come, dears,” she said. “George told me he found you right at the corner. And now come and meet the young people before we sit down to our tea.”
Sitting primly on the straight-backed chairs and a long settee between two windows were some six or seven girls and three little boys. The girls were all dressed in the same fashion as Rose and Ruth, and the boys wore the same funny trousers and short coat that adorned George, who was to be seen near the tea-table, holding a large flowered cosy while the maid set down a tray. George appeared to be a very useful little boy.
The smiling lady took Rose and Ruth round the circle, saying agreeable things that were evidently meant to make the children feel at ease, but did not succeed particularly well in so doing. In fact, every one seemed tongue-tied to an alarming degree. Presently the circuit had been made, however, each little girl dropping a curtsey, gravely returned by the two sisters. Then the old lady released their hands.
“Now I’m sure you’ll all behave most genteelly,” she said, “and be sure to eat a nice tea. Martha will see that everything is right. I don’t want to restrain you in your enjoyment, and so I’ll leave you to make friends in your own way; I know young people like to be left to themselves.”
With that she smiled more benignly than ever, and moved off through an archway into an adjoining room, where Ruth, who was nearest, saw that a group of ladies were gathered about another tea-table. They all wore the fluffiest sort of lace caps, and skirts that spread wide, with bows of ribbon and narrow ruffles and braid trimmings. Some had fichus, some lace tuckers, all had bunches of curls hanging over their ears. A subdued murmur came from them.