Part 17 (1/2)

”No. Only to the fun,--and some supper. We can have that all ready in the other room.”

”They'll see the cooking-stove.”

”They won't know it, when they do,” said Barbara.

”We might have the table in the front room,” suggested Ruth.

”The drawing-room!” cried Rosamond. ”That _would_ be a make-s.h.i.+ft. Who ever heard of having supper there? No; we'll have both rooms open, and a bright fire in each, and one up in mother's room for them to take off their things. And there'll be the piano, and the stereoscope, and the games, in the parlor. We'll begin in there, and out here we'll have the fortune tricks and the nuts later; and then the supper, bravely and comfortably, in the dining-room, where it belongs. If they get frightened at anything, they can go home; I'm going to new cover that screen, though, mother; And I'll tell you what with,--that piece of goldy-brown damask up in the cedar-trunk. And I'll put an arabesque of crimson braid around it for a border, and the room will be all goldy-brown and crimson then, and n.o.body will stop to think which is brocade and which is waterproof. They'll be sitting on the waterproof, you know, and have the brocade to look at. It's just old enough to seem as if it had always been standing round somewhere.”

”It will be just the kind of party for us to have,” said Barbara.

”They couldn't have it up there, if they tried. It would be sure to be Marchbanksy.”

Rosamond smiled contentedly. She was beginning to recognize her own special opportunities. She was quite conscious of her own tact in utilizing them.

But then came the intricate questions of who? and who not?

”Not everybody, of course,” said Rose, ”That would be a confusion.

Just the neighbors,--right around here.”

”That takes in the Hobarts, and leaves out Leslie Goldthwaite,” said Ruth, quietly.

”O, Leslie will be at the Haddens', or here,” replied Rosamond.

”Grace Hobart is nice,” she went on; ”if only she wouldn't be 'real'

nice!”

”That is just the word for her, though,” said Ruth. ”The Hobarts _are_ real.”

Rosamond's face gathered over. It was not easy to reconcile things.

She liked them all, each in their way. If they would only all come, and like each other.

”What is it, Rose?” said Barbara, teasing. ”Your brows are knit,--your nose is crocheted,--and your mouth is--tatted! I shall have to come and ravel you out.”

”I'm thinking; that is all.”

”How to build the fence?”

”What fence?”

”That fence round the pond,--the old puzzle. There was once a pond, and four men came and built four little houses round it,--close to the water. Then four other men came and built four big houses, exactly behind the first ones. They wanted the pond all to themselves; but the little people were nearest to it; how could they build the fence, you know? They had to squirm it awfully! You see the plain, insignificant people are so apt to be nearest the good time!”

”I like to satisfy everybody.”

”You won't,--with a squirm-fence!”

If it had not been for Ruth, we should have gone on just as innocently as possible, and invited them--Marchbankses and all--to our Halloween frolic. But Ruth was such a little news-picker, with her music lessons! She had five scholars now; beside Lily and Reba, there were Elsie Hobart and little Frank Hendee, and Pen Pennington, a girl of her own age, who had come all the way from Fort Vancouver, over the Pacific Railroad, to live here with her grandmother. Between the four houses, Ruth heard everything.

All Saints' Day fell on Monday; the Sunday made double hallowing, Barbara said; and Sat.u.r.day was the ”E'en.” We did not mean to invite until Wednesday; on Tuesday Ruth came home and told us that Olivia and Adelaide Marchbanks were getting up a Halloween themselves, and that the Haddens were asked already; and that Lily and Reba were in transports because they were to be allowed to go.