Part 15 (1/2)
”Poor Jilly can't have any of the fun,” was the first thought; then came a second, that made Merry start and smile, and in a minute whisper so that all but Jill could hear her, ”Girls, I'm not going to be the Princess. But I've thought of a splendid one!”
”Who?” asked the rest, staring at one another, much surprised by this sudden announcement.
”Hus.h.!.+ Speak low, or you will spoil it all. Look in the Bird Room, and tell me if that isn't a prettier Princess than I could make?”
They all looked, but no one spoke, and Merry added, with sweet eagerness, ”It is the only thing poor Jill can be, and it would make her so happy; Jack would like it, and it would please every one, I know.
Perhaps she will never walk again, so we ought to be very good to her, poor dear.”
The last words, whispered with a little quiver in the voice, settled the matter better than hours of talking, for girls are tender-hearted creatures, and not one of these but would have gladly given all the pretty things she owned to see Jill dancing about well and strong again.
Like a ray of suns.h.i.+ne the kind thought touched and brightened every face; envy, impatience, vanity, and discontent flew away like imps at the coming of the good fairy, and with one accord they all cried,--
”It will be lovely; let us go and tell her!”
Forgetting their own adornment, out they trooped after Merry, who ran to the sofa, saying, with a smile which was reflected in all the other faces, ”Jill, dear, we have chosen another Princess, and I know you'll like her.”
”Who is it?” asked Jill, languidly, opening her eyes without the least suspicion of the truth.
”I'll show you;” and taking the cherished veil from her own head, Merry dropped it like a soft cloud over Jill; Annette added the long plume, Susy laid the white silk dress about her, while Juliet and Mabel lifted the scarlet shawl to spread it over the foot of the sofa, and Molly tore the last ornament from her turban, a silver star, to s.h.i.+ne on Jill's breast. Then they all took hands and danced round the couch, singing, as they laughed at her astonishment, ”There she is! There she is! Princess Jill as fine as you please!
”Do you really mean it? But can I? Is it fair? How sweet of you! Come here and let me hug you all!” cried Jill, in a rapture at the surprise, and the pretty way in which it was done.
The grand scene on the Twenty-second was very fine, indeed; but the little tableau of that minute was infinitely better, though no one saw it, as Jill tried to gather them all in her arms, for that nosegay of girlish faces was the sweeter, because each one had sacrificed her own little vanity to please a friend, and her joy was reflected in the eyes that sparkled round the happy Princess.
”Oh, you dear, kind things, to think of me and give me all your best clothes! I never shall forget it, and I'll do anything for you. Yes!
I'll write and ask Mrs. Piper to lend us her ermine cloak for the king.
See if I don't!”
Shrieks of delight hailed this n.o.ble offer, for no one had dared to borrow the much-coveted mantle, but all agreed that the old lady would not refuse Jill. It was astonis.h.i.+ng how smoothly everything went after this, for each was eager to help, admire, and suggest, in the friendliest way; and when all were dressed, the boys found a party of very gay ladies waiting for them round the couch, where lay the brightest little Princess ever seen.
”Oh, Jack, I'm to act! Wasn't it dear of the girls to choose me? Don't they look lovely? Aren't you glad?” cried Jill, as the lads stared and the la.s.ses blushed and smiled, well pleased at the frank admiration the boyish faces showed.
”I guess I am! You are a set of trumps, and we'll give you a first-cla.s.s spread after the play to pay for it. Won't we, fellows?” answered Jack, much gratified, and feeling that now he could act his own part capitally.
”We will. It was a handsome thing to do, and we think well of you for it. Hey, Gus?” and Frank nodded approvingly at all, though he looked only at Annette.
”As king of this crowd, I call it to order,” said Gus, retiring to the throne, where Juliet sat laughing in her red table-cloth.
”We'll have 'The Fair One with Golden Locks' next time; I promise you that,” whispered Ed to Mabel, whose s.h.i.+ning hair streamed over her blue dress like a mantle of gold-colored silk.
”Girls are pretty nice things, aren't they? Kind of 'em to take Jill in. Don't Molly look fine, though?” and Grif's black eyes twinkled as he planned to pin her skirts to Merry's at the first opportunity.
”Susy looks as gay as a feather-duster. I like her. She never snubs a fellow,” said Joe, much impressed with the splendor of the court ladies.
The boys' costumes were not yet ready, but they posed well, and all had a merry time, ending with a game of blind-man's-buff, in which every one caught the right person in the most singular way, and all agreed as they went home in the moonlight that it had been an unusually jolly meeting.
So the fairy play woke the sleeping beauty that lies in all of us, and makes us lovely when we rouse it with a kiss of unselfish good-will, for, though the girls did not know it then, they had adorned themselves with pearls more precious than the waxen ones they decked their Princess in.
Chapter XI. ”Down Brakes”