Chapter Four

When Nelly awoke next morning, it was broad daylight; she sprang out of bed, and began to dress as quickly as possible, for she had two toilets to make, and a great deal of managing to do, and it was necessary to have plenty of time. As soon as she was ready she went down stairs to hurry Anne with the breakfast, and then flew up again to hasten the dressing of the children. She was so energetic that she inspired every one else to be brisk, and by half past seven she had them all seated at the table, and everything going on famously. Only once she was a little disconcerted, when her father, noticing that she wore her everyday dress, said, --

"Why, how's this, little woman? I thought I should see you come out as a red bird this morning! Isn't there some sort of fandango at school today?"

But she answered, quickly, "O, yes, there is; but I was afraid I might soil my dress pouring the coffee -- or something;" and Mr. Morgan only smiled at her extra carefulness, and never noticed how hastily she spoke, or how her cheeks burned as red as the scarlet dress.

Breakfast was over at last; her father gone off to his business, her mother's tray sent up, and the children coaxed to go and play in the nursery; and Nelly was free to run up to the spare room, and begin again to offer her devotions at the shrine of vanity.

She had no time now to linger to admire either her finery or herself. Her shoes were exchanged rapidly for the delicate bronze boots; her hair let down in a black, rippling mass over her shoulders, and the white muslin dress duly put on. She had hard work managing the hooks and eyes, the clasps of her coral, and the bow of her sash, alone; but perseverance conquers all things, and Nelly's persistence was worthy of a better cause. She overcame every difficulty by patient effort, and was all ready before nine o'clock, even the rubber boots, which were to conceal her thin shoes, and the water-proof cloak, which was long and full, and covered her dress entirely.

The only thing now was to get off without her deception being detected; and this was not difficult, as it happened. The children were safe in the nursery; Anne was busy clearing up the breakfast things; nurse was dressing the baby; and only her mother was at liberty to notice her dress. This, however, Nelly did not intend to give her a chance to do. Drawing up the hood of her water-proof over her head, gathering in all the mass of waving hair, she ran down stairs as if in the greatest haste, just put her head in at her mother's door, and saying, breathlessly,--

"Good by, mother! I haven't a minute to stop! Miss Kavanagh wants us for something particular, and I'm late already!" was off down the stairs, and out of the front door, never stopping to hear her mother's kind "Well, my dear, good by, and be sure to have a nice time."

How merry and Christmas-like the streets looked as Nelly stepped out upon them! -- the white snow lying everywhere; the sleighs dashing swiftly by with jingling bells; the people hurrying along with eager faces, already busy with the Christmas Eve shopping; the windows gay with all manner of pretty things, and surrounded by admiring groups of children.

But Nelly didn't stop to look to the right hand or the left. She would not fell quite safe until she was really in the school-room; and so she hurried on, scarcely stopping to take breath, until she found herself within the schoolhouse, and away up stairs in the long wardrobe, where the girls took off their wrappings before entering the classrooms. The merry hum of voices within showed Nelly that she was one of the last comers; and she took off her cloak in a hurry, her cheeks flushing quick with gratified vanity at the murmur of surprise that broke from the two or three stragglers in the wardrobe. She took it for admiration and envy; and, noticing that they had on high dark dresses and high boots, she felt quite a friendly pity for them. She only stopped to shake out the folds of her gauzy dress, to settle her sash, and to give one or two final twitches to her curls, and then, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she marched proudly into the schoolroom.

It was not quite nine yet, and none of the classes were in order. The girls were scattered here and there, laughing and chatting; the teachers were standing in a group, talking to each other; and naturally every one looked round at the rustle of such an imposing entrance as Nelly's. She fluttered up the long, narrow aisle, through rows of staring children, to her own classroom, quite conscious that every eye was upon her, and quite delighted with the consciousness. She spread out her stiff skirts as she sat down, as a peacock spreads his tail, and looked round her with a complacent an air as that conceited bird is assumed always to wear; but the next moment her look of satisfied vanity was suddenly changed to one of surprise and chagrin.

The rooms were filled with girls; all the young ladies of the first class were present, and, to Nelly's amazement and mortification, not one of them was dress in white. There was every variety of color, -- blue, and green and crimson, and purple, and garnet, and fawn, -- but all made high, with sleeves to the wrist; and she alone found herself fluttering in gauzy-white draperies, with uncovered neck and arms.

Now, Nelly was vain enough to like to surpass other girls; but she was not independent enough to like to be entirely different from them; and even if they had not all stared and tittered so, she would have found it very unpleasant to be so conspicuously singular on such a public occasion.

But then they did star and titter very much indeed, as school girls will, no matter how much they are lectured; and the glow of triumph on Nelly's face quickly deepened into a burning blush of shame and anger as she caught one and another teasing whisper from those around her.

"I say, girls," said one little mischief in Nelly's own class, "we've made a mistake; this is a full-dress party, not a school reception; the shutters will be closed, and the gas lighted presently; we'd better hurry home, and get on our kids while there is time."

Of course this sally, though not very brilliant, set the girls into a giggle, and another and another uttered some comical speech, which Nelly could not help hearing; and the children, full of fun and spirits, would laugh and draw away, pretending they were afraid of crushing her finery, until the quick-tempered girl could stand it no longer. She sprang up from her seat, her eyes snapping, and her cheeks flaming with anger, and cried out, in a rage,--

"You're a poor, mean, miserable set; you're got nothing fit to wear yourselves, and you're only jealous of those who have. I shall go right home, and tell my mother on you. And you may get along the best you can with your piece, for I won't stay to say it with you -- now!"

And in a moment she had swept down the aisle, and slammed out of the door.

The teachers looked round at the noise, and Miss Kavanagh came down the room to see what was the matter in her class. The girls all began to speak at once, and it was some time before she could quiet them in their excitement, and find out the true state of the case. When she discovered that Nelly Morgan, for whom she had been waiting to begin her rehearsal, had really come and gone again, with the determination not to return, she was very much annoyed and perplexed.

"Dear, dear! what is to be done?" she said, in vexed tone. "Didn't you know, girls, as often as you have been told, that it was very rude to laugh at a companion for anything? You had much better have come and told me she was here, and I would have made her put on a scarf, or something, and we would have gone on with our rehearsal. Now we shall have to give up our exercise altogether, for we can't possibly do without her. I depended on her not only for her own verse, but to head the chorus, and I shall not undertake it without her."

"O, O, Miss Kavanagh!" began a chorus of disappointed voices; Maggie Lang jumped up and said, "I know where she lives, Miss Kavanagh; let me run after her and coax her, or beg her mother to send her back. I'll tell her we're all sorry, and I'll be sure to bring her. May I go, please?"

"O, yes, Miss Kavanagh, let her go, please!" echoed the chorus of voices again; but their teacher hesitated.

"I never like to send my scholars on errands, you know," she said, " and it is within a minute of nine o'clock; but, as you all feel so badly about giving up your recitation, you may go, for once, Maggie. I don't think it will be of any use, however; Mrs. Morgan will naturally be offended at the way in which Nelly as treated. I hope it will be a lesson to you all. It is a very vexatious affair altogether."

Miss Kavanagh looked thoroughly displeased as she rose to go and inform the principal that the exercise of her class would probably have to be omitted from the program. Maggie Lang slipped quietly out on her errand, and the other girls waited her return in very uncomfortable silence.

Meanwhile the principal's bell rang for order, and the little buzz and flutter ceased throughout the rooms, and each class presented a beautiful array of silent and motionless girls, prettily dressed, and with bright, expectant faces. Visitors began to pour in from the lower rooms, where they had been attending the Christmas exercises of the male department; the audience room was soon filled with parents and friends of pupils, and the trustees of the school; and the business of the morning began with a merry song of welcome, which the whole tuneful throng, numbering hundreds of girls, sang standing to the spirited accompaniment of the piano. Under cover of all this burst of song, and screened from view by the rows of tall girls in the front classes, little Maggie slipped up the long aisle, and, in a low voice, reported the success of her mission to her teacher.

"I went to Nelly's house," she said, half out of breath with the haste she had made, " and I asked the girl at the door if I couldn't see Nelly. And she looked astonished, and said Nelly was gone to school long ago; and I told her, yes, but she had gone home again; and she said she was sure she wasn't in the house, for she couldn't have come in without her hearing her. And she said she hoped Nelly wasn't up to any mischief, for her mother was very sick, and it would worry her so much. So I thought I wouldn't say any more, for hear she'd tell Mrs. Morgan, and make her worse; and so I said, maybe there was some mistake, and came right back. But it's too bad -- isn't it, Miss Kavanagh, for Nelly to behave so, and for us to lose saying our pretty piece, after we've taken so much trouble practicing it?"

"It is too bad," said Miss Kavanagh, looking both vexed and anxious, "and I only hope, too, that Nelly may not be doing anything wrong. I can scarcely believe that Mrs. Morgan -- but no matter;" and she checked herself suddenly, not thinking it right to communicate her suspicions to her pupils. "At any rate we shall have to give up our recitation; and I do hope it will be a lesson to you all to make you remember the Golden Rule a little better. No matter how ridiculous any of you might ever chance to appear, -- you would not like to be laughed at any more than Nelly."

Maggie withdrew to her seat, and looking very crestfallen; for, though she had said nothing teasing to Nelly, she had joined in the general laugh raised by the whole class at the sight of her finery and her airs. She had felt, too, a little throb of exultation to think that it was Nelly, and not herself, as Nelly had predicted, who had appeared ridiculous in the eyes of the school; but now she felt ashamed to remember that she had indulged such a wrong feeling, and thought sorrowfully how poor a way this was to enter upon the real joy of Christmas, of which Miss Kavanagh had talked only yesterday.

The rest of the class, who were still standing, singing their song of welcome, had, however, kept their eyes fixed upon their teacher and Maggie; and, although they could not hear what was said, they read very plainly on their faces the fate of their share in the day's entertainment. The ill-tidings were confirmed by a decided shake of Miss Kavanagh's head in reply to their eager looks of inquiry as they took their seats; and, though they had to accept their disappointment in silence, the pleasure was all gone out of the morning for them, and a very dark cloud hung over the usually bright-faced and orderly second division.

And yet it was a very pleasant reception. There were a great many guests, and they were entertained by recitations and declamations, compositions, and dialogues, music of all kinds, -- grave and gay, -- solos, duets, and chorals; and, prettiest of all, with graceful and healthful exercises in calisthenics. The two hours sped rapidly away, and the final addresses had been made, all sorts of nice compliments and Christmas greetings been paid to teachers and pupils, and the visitors had taken their departure; every face was full of smiles and Christmas cheer, and every one in high good humor, except the unfortunate second class.

They felt decidedly cheated, and looked disconsolate enough in the midst of the general complacency. They brightened up a little, however, when, after all the guests has departed, and only the pupils remained in their seats waiting for dismissal, Mr. Thurston, the chairman of the school committee, rose on the platform, and said he had just one more word to whisper in their ear. The little stir and bustle in the room was quieted at once, for the children always liked to hear what Mr. Thurston had to say. He had such a good and genial face, such pleasant blue eyes, and such a cordial smile, that one could not but be sure of his having a kind heart; then he always talked so that they could understand him, never forgetting to throw in a merry word to brighten them in the midst of his good advice. So, though they were often horribly bored by the pompous, stupid harangues which were frequently inflicted upon them by gentlemen visitors, they were never tired of listening to Mr. Thurston.

And, indeed, they could not well help being interested today, for his "one word more" was to tell them that he and the whole committee had been very much pleased with what they had heard of their industry and good conduct during the past term; and that now, as Christmas was at hand, when every one was expected to fell happy, these gentlemen had provided an entertainment, different, it was true, but he trusted quite as agreeable, as the feast of reason and the flow of soul which the children had furnished to them that morning. If the teachers would allow them to adjourn to the play room below, he thought they would make a discovery which could not fail to give them pleasure; that is, if they were anything like him, when he was a little boy, or a little girl either, for that matter.

Applause was rather contrary to the order of things in the school; but this was too much for the children's powers of restraint. Moreover, Christmas was a privileged time, and with one accord, as Mr. Thurston finished speaking, the children started in their seats; eager hands went clap, clap, clap! glad feet went stamp, stamp, stamp! rang from room to room of the building.

A touch of the principal's bell restored silence at once. With eager, beaming faces the school waited for orders; a teacher took her place at the piano, and struck up the liveliest of marches; and class by class, in regular military order, though on the double-quick, filed down the long staircases, away, away down to the very ground floor, where an immense playroom occupied the entire space.

This had been gaily decorated with evergreens by men whom the committee had sent there the evening before; and that very morning, while the children were busy with their songs, their speeches, and their gymnastics, a whole army of waiters had been just as busy, putting up impromptu tables, covering them with cloths, and spreading them with their manner of Christmas cheer.

There were turkeys-- O, how many! -- just as many as eight hundred children could possibly dispose of; and geese and chickens besides; mince pies, and pumpkin pies, and apple pies; baskets full of cake, and others heaped with motto candies, nuts and raisins, oranges and apples; and just as much lemonade as any one wanted. Many of the children had never sat down to such a feast before; and never did Christmas Eve shine upon happier faces than were gathered round those long tables in the school playroom.

The gentlemen of the committee stayed and took luncheon with the children, and felt themselves fully repaid for their generosity in witnessing the pleasure they had given. The principal and teachers were also there, of course, to share the feast, and keep the youngsters from being entirely carried away by their high spirits.

Not that there was much effort at order at attempted, however. When the repast was concluded, and ever one had eaten as much as he wished, and each child had been furthermore delighted with the present of an orange, and a cornucopia of candy, to take home to a little brother or sister, the waiters came in again, and packed up the dishes in great baskets, and carried them off. Then the boys fell to work, and took apart the tables, which were only boards laid upon trestles; and in double-quick time the great room was cleared, and the word was given that all who chose might remain an hour or two longer, and engage in whatever games they liked.

This announcement was received with another burst of applause; and, of course, every one chose to stay. The teachers, who enjoyed it all much as children, took a general superintendence of things, suggesting games, and separating the little ones from the great ones, so that they would be in no danger of being run down in the midst of the frolic. Very soon all manner of merry plays were going on all over the great hall. Of course, there were the old favorites, "Oats, peas, beans and barley grow," "Sister, O Phoebe," "Here we tread the green grass," "Fox and geese," and so on; besides "Sell the button," Turkish merchant," and various "guessing games," for the quieter ones.

Everybody joined in, and everybody was in the best of humors; so that, altogether, it was one of the very happiest days that any of them could remember, even to the second class who had forgotten all about the disappointment of the morning; and all went home in high spirits, delighted with their "Surprise Party," grateful to the gentlemen who had so kindly planned it for them.

To be continued ...

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