The Motor Girls Page 18
CHAPTER XVIII
THE GARDEN FETE
It was a perfect evening--the very last of the perfect June days.Chelton lay like a contented babe in Nature's lap--contented, butnot asleep, for it was the evening of the masked garden fete.
The bright-colored lanterns throughout the spacious grounds of theKimball home flickered like eager fireflies, and the splendiddancing platform, erected on the broad lawn, fairly glistened withits coat of wax under the strings of tiny electric lights thatcanopied the pavilion.
It was not deemed necessary to have any one at the gate. In Cheltonthere were not many strangers and suppose some urchins did enter,Cora said, it would be a pity to deny them a glimpse of the prettysight.
A tall Antonio, in a garb of the most somber black, strolled about,hoping to find his Portia. Priscilla was there, in her collar andcap, but where was John Alden? Would the dainty little Bo-peep, wholooked like a bisque doll, ever find her straying sheep?
Then motor "togs"--a long linen duster, with a cap andgoggles--seemed a most convenient mask for so many young men, whowere not vain enough to want to don doublet and hose.
But there were some courtiers, and they did look romantic. Perhapsthat stout girl in the white Empire gown, with a baby cap on herhead, and a rattler around her neck, might be Bess Robinson.
But the Winter girls were both stout--as stout as Bess. Then thatthin creature, so tall that she suggested a section of sugar cane(could she actually be in one piece), might be Belle. The Psycheknot at the back of her head, and the wreath of wild olive,certainly bespoke Belle.
What had Cora done? Whom had she impersonated? There were many whowished to know this, and there were so many pretty persons that verylikely she might have taken a very simple character. Cora dislikedtoo much trouble, where trouble did not seem to count.
That splendid figure of Liberty might be she. Or that indolentCleopatra on the rustic bench under the white birch tree--she made apretty picture. But Cora would not pose as this one was doing. Thevacant seat beside the girl was too glaring an invitation for Corato offer. Perhaps she might be that suffragette, who went aboutdemanding "Votes for women!" See! There she is now, holding up MarcAnthony!
A most attractive figure was Night or Luna. The coloring would havesuited Cora--the black hair and the silvery trimmings of the robe torepresent the moon but it was not like Cora to seek the dark spotsof the garden that her moonbeams might be the brighter. The boys hada certain fancy for moonlight--hand made.
"I'll wager you are Bess," whispered a very handsome Adonis in areal Greek costume--all but the pedestal.
"Yes," answered the girl with a titter. "As you please--but, I prayyou, fair sir, am I not a good milkmaid?"
"The best ever," replied Adonis. "Pray let us stroll in yondermeadow."
Slipping his hand into the bare arm of the milkmaid, Adonis drew thefigure down a pith toward the small lake that was on one edge of theKimball property.
"Now I have some one to talk to," he declared with evidentsatisfaction.
"Oh, is that all?" replied the maid in some contempt "I can't seejust why I should fill in that way," and she arose from her seat atthe water's edge. "Besides," she added, "I hate Greeks. They are sovain!" and with this she hurried after a girl in a nun's costume,who was walking along the path to the pavilion.
"Well!" exclaimed the disappointed youth, "that was hard luck. Andjust as I was going to say something nice, too. However, it'll keep,I suppose," and he followed the two figures--the nun and themilkmaid--toward the dancing platform.
A veritable Rosebud was bowing on the porch to the row of unmaskedpatronesses, several ladies of Mrs. Kimball's set, who hadvolunteered to help her receive.
The Rosebud wore a plaited garb of rose pink, with velvet petalsabout her waist, and green velvet leaves about her throat. Thecostume was so beautiful, and the figure so graceful, to say nothingof the natural rose perfume it exhaled, that every one stopped toadmire.
The bell for the cotillion sounded, and when the ribbons were castto the gentlemen it was the Greek Adonis who caught the blue end. Hewould lead.
For his partner he walked up to the saucy milkmaid, and claiming herby right, proudly marched with her on his arm back to the center ofthe platform.
A murmur of disapproval was heard. Why had he not chosen Cleopatra?
But Marc Anthony was eagerly waiting, and quickly sprang to the faircharmer's side. Antonio, the silent, strode over to the marketwoman--the height of incongruity.
A clown somersaulted to the Rosebud.
Night hung back. She seemed particular with whom she danced, andwhen a very handsomely proportioned courtier stepped up to her sherefused him with a toss of her head. A star fell from her blacktresses, but the answer seemed final, and the courtier walked away.
Finally the music started, and the dancers with it. How delightfulit was to be some one else! And how splendidly Adonis led! At eachturn where the waltz varied the figures he effected a wonderfulchange of partners, and it usually happened just when he was sayingsomething most interesting to the young lady.
But this afforded a splendid chance for coquetry--a very pardonableaffectation under a mask.
The little nun was creeping around the platform. She seemed like adark spirit in the midst of such merrymaking, almost like a warningof a fate to come.
"Now!" the Rosebud heard her partner whisper as the nun passed. Andthe Rosebud had for a partner--Antonio.
"Who?" Psyche heard the nun ask of the same Antonio. "Who is it togo to?"
Psyche wondered what it meant. With a quick move, at the signal fora change, Antonio was whirling off with the nun, and Psyche was leftwithout a partner.
But a few moments later Antonio came back to her.
"I just wanted to see if I could make the little nun dance," hewhispered, "and I did--all the way off the platform, for she'sgone."
"She is standing there by the side of Adonis," replied Psychedirectly. "And she seems to be in the way."
"Soliciting alms," almost sneered Antonio. "That's her business, Isuppose."
Psyche was glad when the waltz ended, and at the next figure shecame in contact with Rosebud. It was to be a ladies' bouquet, andRosebud made the centerpiece, with all the other pretty sprites in acircle about her. Then the boys, in an outer ring, threw theirflower-chained hands into the inner circle, thus each capturing apretty partner.
The milkmaid fell into Antonio's arms. He almost caught her up fromthe floor.
"Don't!" she objected as she felt his hands on her bare arm. "Yourhands are--are too damp. They'll take all the starch out of mysleeves."
"Sign of a warm heart," he answered as he led her away.
Adonis was with Rosebud. What a charming couple they made! And howperfectly they both danced!
Close beside them fluttered Night. She was with the clown andseemed to enjoy the contrast.
One of the most distinguished masculine figures was Hiawatha, theIndian lad. His face was made up with real skill, and his bow andquiver hung gracefully at his back as he strode about. He had notdanced, but he was evidently having a most delightful time with theMoon figure and Buttercup.
At the intermission a general onslaught was made by the young men topenetrate the disguises worn by the ladies.
"Plagued awkward," complained Hiawatha when he had failed toascertain who Luna was. "I might be making love to my own--"
"Sister!" snapped the girl, laughing at the youth's discomfiture.
"But won't you tell me just this?" he pleaded. "Who on earth is thegirl in the black robe--the nun? See, there she goes off toward thelake with Antonio."
"How can I tell?" answered Luna. "But if you really want to know,suppose we follow them?"
"Great idea!" agreed the Indian. "There goes Rosebud and Adonis.My, but they are hitting the trail, if you will pardon the languageof an early settler. Suppose we go around this way? Then we can havea full view of both pairs in this mystery."
"As you pl
ease," answered Luna with some condescension as theystarted toward the little lake.
"Shall we sit here?"
It was Adonis speaking to Rosebud. She sank down upon a rusticbench and instantly noticed a couple turn behind the spruce hedge.
They were both in black. It was Antonio and the nun.