Chapter 7

PATRICIA'S PROMISE

At the Barnet house all was excitement. Servants were rushing this way and that, searching for Flossie and the baby.

Again and again the maid insisted that she had left them in the hall but a few moments, and the cook and the butler declared that she had spoken truly, yet it seemed strange that in so short a time the two could have so completely disappeared.

In the midst of the excitement Uncle Harry came home, and he looked very grave when he learned the cause of their alarm.

Yes, the house and grounds had been thoroughly searched, they told him, and neither could be found, nor could any one remember having seen them after the baby had been brought in from her ride.

And while the other members of the household were searching in every direction, Uncle Harry secured a lantern, and went out into the shadowy garden, hoping that he might, in some forgotten corner, find the two children whom he so dearly loved.

Around the house, along the driveway toward the stable, down a little path to where the tall dahlias nodded; across the lawn to the open space where the new moon spread its sheen, then toward the shrubbery and the hedge.

Flossie saw the gleam of the bright lantern through the bushes, and huddled closer to the little shrubs. She believed that it was the butler who carried the lantern, and that he had been sent to capture the baby.

"Hush, hush--sh--sh!" she whispered, patting its shoulder gently. It had no idea of crying, but she was so afraid that it might, and thus tell where they were hiding. It happened that the baby was sleepy, and snug and warm in Flossie's loving arms, it was quite content.

Nearer, and yet nearer came the light! Now it was going farther from her,--now returning, and now, oh, she must hold her breath!

A firm step trampled the underbrush, the lantern was swung high, and the two runaways were discovered. With a sob Flossie clasped the infant closer, hiding its face with her own.

"You sha'n't have this baby!" she cried, "for I won't let you! Nobody shall touch my Uncle Harry's baby; nobody's going to _quantine_ her. I'm 'fraid out here, but I'll stay to take care of his own baby!"

"Flossie! Flossie, little girl, who has frightened you? Why are you hiding out here with the baby?"

"Go away!" she cried, holding the baby closer, "they've sent you to find us, but you don't know that they're going to _quantine_ this baby, but I'll never let them do it."

"Flossie, Flossie, you're frightened, listen to me."

He put the lantern down, and seating himself upon the grass, placed his strong arm around Flossie, drawing the two closer as if to protect them.

"They _are_ going to _quantine_ this baby!" she cried, "and they sha'n't cut her head off 'cause there's spots on her face. She's your baby, and oh, I _love_ you both!"

The wild note in her voice showed how genuine was her terror.

"Nobody shall harm baby, I promise you that, dear," said Uncle Harry, an odd quiver in his voice, "and you were a dear little girl to take care of her for me, but now I must take you both up to the house, for every one is hunting for you."

"But Bridget said they'd have to quantine,"--sobbed Flossie.

"Bridget was mistaken," he said, "and besides, no one is harmed by being quarantined. I'll tell you all about that at another time. You are about chilled through, and as you're not very huge, I guess I'll carry you both."

There was no help for it, so Flossie laid her head upon his shoulder, the baby, sound asleep, still in her arms, and Uncle Harry strode across the lawn, up to the piazza, and into the hall, where a frightened group were talking.

They crowded around him to learn where he had found them, but he raised his hand to stop the eager questioning.

Flossie had been badly frightened, and he felt that she must not be excited.

Once in her own little room with her mother bending over her, she listened eagerly while Uncle Harry explained what the maids had meant, and she sighed happily when she at last realized that the baby was safe from harm, and that she would remain right under the roof of their beautiful home.

When on the following day the old doctor called to see the baby, he laughed heartily at the story of Flossie's fear, and he declared that Flossie must have done a very fine thing for the baby. Its little pink cheeks were fair, and the tiny spots which had so frightened its young mother had been chased away, so the doctor said, by its long stay out in the evening air. "Then I _did_ do something nice for that baby," said Flossie, to which Uncle Harry responded:

"You were a brave little niece, Flossie," and Flossie was happy.

* * * * *

When the postman called on the morning of the next day, he brought an invitation for the long-dreamed-of party.

Then the secret was out as to what kind of party it was to be.

A fancy dress party! A costume carnival!

Of course the first question that each little friend asked of the other was:

"What are you going to wear?"

"Why, our prettiest party dresses, of course," said Mollie Merton.

Mollie, who was always very positive, was greatly surprised when Dorothy overtook them on the way to school, and explained that each little guest was expected to appear in a costume which should represent some well-known character in history or story.

"And mamma says we are not to tell each other what we're going to be," said Dorothy; "we're to wear long dominoes over our frocks, and we'll dance and play games, just peeping through eyeholes to see where we're going."

"And nobody'll know who anybody is," chimed in Nancy, "for Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte will receive, and Dorothy will walk up to greet them, so neither of us will even know who Dorothy is."

"What fun!" cried Jeanette, and the little group laughed gaily. "Any boys besides me invited?" questioned Reginald.

"Yes, indeed, there are ever so many boys invited," Dorothy said. "My cousins Russell and Arthur are coming, and three of papa's nephews will be here. I've never met them, but they're coming for a little visit of a few days, and I'm to have my party while they're here."

"If you girls are going to wear those funny long cloaks, of course they'll hide who you are, but you'll every one of you know us fellows," said Reginald, who felt that the girls were more favored.

"Indeed, we won't know you," laughed Dorothy, "for papa insists that you boys must wear dominoes, too."

"Hurrah for us, I say!" shouted Reginald; "we'll have as much fun as you girls will." "And we've two weeks to wait," said Katie Dean, "and all that time we're not to tell what we're to be."

"Nor even the color of our dominoes," said Jeanette.

"I sha'n't tell what I'm to be," Reginald proudly said, "but some of you girls will just _have_ to tell; girls can't keep a secret."

"We can keep a secret, Reginald Dean," said Mollie, to which Flossie chimed in:

"Yes, indeed we can. I _can't_ tell what I'm to be, because I don't know; mamma hasn't told me, but I _do_ know what color I'm to wear, and I won't tell that!"

Reginald liked to tease.

"Somebody'll tell something, see 'f they don't!" he said, nodding and laughing.

* * * * *

It was now just a week from the day set for the party.

Arabella, hurrying along the avenue, tried to thrust her arms into the sleeves of her jacket.

"O dear! I shouldn't think this jacket had any armholes!" she cried impatiently.

She had hurried out before Aunt Matilda could stop her, and she was trying to get her jacket on without pausing to do so. At last her arms were in her sleeves, and she looked ahead to see if any one was in sight.

"She'll be awful cross if I'm late," thought Arabella, and she tried to run even faster.

There were two reasons for Arabella's haste. The first was that she had promised to meet Patricia, and the second reason was that it was Saturday morning, and if she remained at home Aunt Matilda would be sure to find something for her to do. Of course Aunt Matilda would ask where she had been, and why she had run out so early, and oh, no end of questions!

"It'll be by-'m-bye when Aunt Matilda questions me," whispered Arabella, adding cheerfully: "and by-'m-bye isn't _now_."

"Hello!" called Patricia, "you're some late, but not _very_."

"Why, I'm here as soon as you are," said Arabella.

"I know that," Patricia replied, "but I thought you'd be over to my house by this time."

"Aren't we 'most there?" questioned Arabella.

"Almost, and not quite," said Patricia, "and anyway I was going to stop at a store before I go over to my house. Ma gave me some money and I'm going to spend it for candy. Have you got any to spend?"

Arabella shook her head.

"Aunt Matilda won't let me spend money; she has her views about folks spending money, she says."

"I wouldn't want her for _my_ aunt," said Patricia.

"Well, she isn't your aunt," snapped Arabella, and now they had reached the little candy store, and Patricia, grasping Arabella's hand, walked boldly in.

Arabella was greatly impressed, and when Patricia asked her which kind she would like to have, she managed to just whisper that _any_ kind would do.

At Arabella's home Aunt Matilda reigned supreme, and it was said that no one, not even Mr. Corryville, dared spend any money, unless Aunt Matilda approved, but that might not be true.

Arabella thought it very grand that Patricia had enough money to buy whatever she wished, and her surprise increased when she chose a half-pound of two different kinds, ordering the clerk to put them in separate papers.

"You can have that bundle, and I'll have this," said Patricia, as they left the store, "and now we'll go over to my house, it's that one next to the school."

Arabella looked toward the house at which Patricia pointed. It did not look at all like the homes of her other friends. Patricia rang the bell, and they heard the lock slip, then they commenced to mount the stairs. The building was four stories high, and Patricia lived on the top floor.

"We like the top floor because it's so airy," she said.

Arabella said nothing, but when they were seated cosily in the corners of an old sofa, each with her package of candy, Arabella was glad that she had come.

A few moments later Patricia's mother entered. She was showily dressed, and her many pieces of jewelry made Arabella stare. She did not know that those glittering rings and bangles were worth very little money.

"Now, Patricia, you know I don't like to have you buy so much candy," whined Mrs. Lavine.

"I haven't _much_ candy," replied Patricia, "that Arabella's got belongs to her."

Arabella looked quickly at Patricia. Was not that a sort of fib? Patricia had not _said_ that Arabella had bought her package of candy, but she had certainly intended her mother to think so.

Mrs. Lavine took a book from the table, and sat down by the window to read.

Soon Patricia became restless.

"Let's go out again," she said, and in a few moments they were running down the stairs, and out into the street.

"I've got a little more money, and we'll have some ice cream," said Patricia.

Arabella wondered where she got her money, but dared not ask her, and while she was thinking about it Patricia spoke.

"I asked you over to my house because I think I'd like you for my best friend," she said, "and because I've got something to tell you."

Arabella stared at her through her glasses, but she said nothing.

"You're sort of old-fashioned," Patricia continued, "but I guess we can play together nicely, and you needn't be provoked at what I said, for we're going to have a secret the very first thing, and I'll tell it to you when we're having our ice cream."

They entered a tiny store which the sign stated was an "Ice Cream Parlor." There was room for but three little tables, but Arabella thought it quite grand, for the wall-paper was covered with gaudy flowers, and the ice cream was very pink.

They took tiny sips that the treat might last longer, and Arabella watched Patricia, and waited to hear what she had to tell.

At last Patricia lost patience.

"Why don't you ask what the secret is?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell it if it's worth telling?" Arabella asked, coolly.

"I _guess_ it's worth telling," said Patricia. "Say, you'll be at Dorothy Dainty's party, won't you?"

"Of course I'll be there; my costume is 'most done."

"What's it going to be?"

"Why, don't you remember we are not to tell any one what we are to wear; not even the color of our dominoes?" Arabella asked in surprise.

"Well, we didn't promise not to tell," said Patricia, "and, anyway, I'm going to tell you. Ma has made me a Spanish dress, all spangles, and red ribbons, and gold tinsel, and my domino that will cover it for the first of the evening will be bright yellow! I've told you, Arabella Corryville, because now you'll know which I am, as soon as you see me, and you'll be just mean if you don't tell me now what you're going to wear." Arabella hesitated.

"Dorothy wouldn't like to have us tell," she said.

"Well, we needn't tell her we told, and what about _me_? Here I've treated you to candy and ice cream, and told you all about my costume. If you were half-nice, you'd think you _ought_ to tell me about yours."

Patricia's voice sounded grieved, and Arabella wavered.

Ought she to tell? She knew she ought not, but Patricia urged again.

"And I was going to say we could each wear a blue ribbon on the third buttonhole of our dominoes, so we'd know each other the minute we got there. And, say," she continued, "have you ever been all over the stone house?"

"Not in every room," said Arabella. "Have you been in the observatory?"

"The _what_?" asked Arabella.

Patricia was sure that she had made a mistake.

"The room where the flowers are?" she said.

"Oh, the _conservatory_, you mean," Arabella said, grandly. "No, I haven't been in there, but I've seen the flowers from the doorway, and they're lovely."

"Well, they're twice as lovely when you're right in the room with them. I _know_, because I've been in there!" said Patricia.

"_When_?" queried Arabella.

"The last time I was there," Patricia replied, "and _now_ I'll tell you something; there's something in that room that I know about, and not another girl knows it but me. I won't tell you what it is now, but at the party I'll do better than _tell_ you; I'll _show_ you. We'll go out into the hall when nobody is looking at us, and we'll go into the what-you-call-it,--"

"The conservatory," prompted Arabella.

"The conservatory," repeated Patricia, "and then you'll see _what_ you'll see! I _promise_ to surprise you."

"Don't you tell if I tell you," said Arabella.

"No, '_ndeed_," Patricia agreed.

"Well, Aunt Matilda said she wouldn't let me wear anything _flighty_, so she's made me a dress like a Puritan, and my domino is tan color."

Arabella's curiosity forced her to tell all that Patricia longed to know, because she was simply wild to visit the conservatory, and find out what it was that Patricia could show.

With vows of secrecy they parted, Patricia walking slowly homeward; Arabella running all the way.

"Aunt Matilda'll say something, I guess, when she sees me," she whispered as she ran, "First thing she'll ask where I've been, and oh, I never thought to take those horrid pills! The bottle is in my pocket, and I've eaten candy and ice cream! It's lucky she don't know _that_; if she did she'd say, 'I shouldn't wonder if that child had fits before morning!' She don't know it, and p'r'aps I won't have the fits."