Miriam was silenced for a moment. She had seldom heard her mother speak so forcibly; but Mrs. Nesbit had seen, with growing misgivings, the innate sn.o.bbishness in her daughter's character, and for a long time she had been looking for an opportunity like the one that now presented itself.

David had risen during Miriam's contemptuous speech, and had turned very white; which was always a signal that his slow wrath had been kindled at last; but since he was a child he had had such admirable control of his feelings that it had often been remarked by older people. Miriam, however, knew the sign and resorted again to tears to draw attention to her own sufferings.

"You and mother have turned against me," she cried. "Mother, you have always loved David best, anyhow."

"Nonsense!" replied David. "You are a willful, selfish girl, jealous because a poor girl is getting ahead of you in your cla.s.ses and because you are not included in the house party. Do you think Mrs. Gray would ask you to join those four nice girls in her house after that Miss Leece business? If you had learned to be polite and agreeable you would never have gotten into this state now." Having delivered himself of his opinion, and spent his rage, David walked out of the room and quietly closed the door after him.

"You see what you have done, Miriam," exclaimed Mrs. Nesbit. "You have made your brother angry. I have seldom seen him like that before, not since the stable man beat his dog. But don't cry, my child. It's all over now," and Mrs. Nesbit drew her daughter to her and stroked her hot forehead. "Why don't you give a house party, too?" she added after a moment's thought. "Would it give you any pleasure or help to heal your hurt feelings?"

"O mother!" exclaimed Miriam, looking up quickly. "I believe I _will_ invite four girls and boys to spend Christmas week with me. Wouldn't it be fun?"

And it was in this manner that a plan for an opposition house party sprang into existence; although the son of the house had joined the other side.

All through her preparations Miriam carefully guarded the secret that she was bitterly hurt at having been left out of Mrs. Gray's party, and she meditated a revenge that was still only a half-formed idea. In the first place, she chose Julia Crosby as one of the guests of the Christmas house party; Julia Crosby the tall, mischievous soph.o.m.ore who had originated the "Black Monks of Asia." Surely the two together could work out some scheme which would bring her enemies to her feet and humble little Mrs. Gray, who had dared to slight her.

Meanwhile, the holidays were approaching. The crisp, cold air resounded with the jingle of sleigh bells, for snow had fallen the first week in December and all the sleighs in Oakdale were taken from their summer quarters.

The four chums were full of secret preparations. Grace had devised a scheme of entertainment which, in the town of Oakdale, would be unique, but it required much work and practice to perfect it. In the meantime Nora O'Malley had decided to entertain her friends at a bobbing party to start the Christmas holidays. And it was at this party that Miriam seized her first opportunity to make trouble.

"Anne, you are learned in many things, but not in outdoor fun," said Grace as the young people in m.u.f.flers and sweaters started to climb the long hill where the coasting was best.

"Do you mean to say you have never been coasting, Anne?" demanded David.

"I'm afraid I'll have to admit it," replied Anne. "To tell the truth, I never did have any fun, except reading, until I started in the High School and met all of you. You see, little city children are denied all these nice things unless they go to the parks, but it's no fun going alone."

"Well, you won't be alone now," said Hippy Wingate. "There are four to a sled, and we'll put you in the middle to keep you from getting lost in the snow."

"Look out, here comes some one!" called Grace, just as a small sled shot past them like a flash, with a laugh and a cheer from its occupants, Miriam and Reddy Brooks.

"They ought not to have done that," exclaimed David. "We couldn't see them over the k.n.o.b of the hill and they might have run us down."

By this time they had reached the top of the hill, and Anne's heart bounded at the sight of the long, white track made by the sled which had just pa.s.sed them and disappeared far below across a flat meadow now smooth and hard as a table top.

"Don't be frightened, Anne," said David, who sat behind her on the sled.

He pinioned her arms with his own and with a wild whoop the four young people skimmed down the hill.

There was no time to be frightened, no time even to think, as they shot through the fine bracing air like a ball from a cannon. Before they knew it, they were landed at the bottom.

"O Hippy," cried Grace, her cheeks glowing like winter berries, "I feel as if I were riding the comet. But look out for the others," for the remaining sleds followed in quick succession and the air resounded with the whoops of the boys and girls as they shot past. "Is there any sport in the world that can touch it?" she demanded of the world in general.

Three or four more such rides, and Anne felt an exhilaration she had never before known. She was climbing the hill for a final trip before the party returned to Nora's for hot chocolate and sandwiches, when she heard some one cry out just behind her. She had lingered a little to watch the sleds pa.s.s, and had failed to notice a small sled with a single occupant come over the brow of the hill well out of the beaten path and make straight for her. It was Miriam Nesbit, riding flat on her stomach and going like the wind.

"Jump to the left, Anne," cried Grace's voice, "or you'll be hurt!"

Anne looked up and saw the sled. It all happened in a flash, and how David managed to get there first she never knew; but the next instant the two were rolling over and over in the snow with Miriam on top of them and a broken sled skidding on its back down the hillside.

"It was Miss Pierson's fault," exclaimed Miriam as she pulled herself out of the snow, and the others came running to the scene of the accident. "Why didn't she get out of the way? Inexperienced people ought not to come to bobbing parties. They always get hurt."

David was binding up a cut in his wrist, which was sprinkling the snow with blood. He was too angry to trust himself to answer his sister before the others just then. They had pulled Anne out of a snowdrift and she was leaning limply against Jessica, trying to collect her senses. It seemed to her that she had been walking well out of the sled track, out of everybody's way; but it didn't make any difference since n.o.body was killed.

"All I can say now, Miriam," said Grace, "is that you are entirely mistaken. If you hadn't hit Anne you'd have knocked me over. I was walking just ahead of her and n.o.body can say I am inexperienced."

"Grace Harlowe, do you think I did it on purpose?" demanded Miriam furiously.

"I haven't insinuated anything, Miriam," replied Grace. "I simply wanted to disabuse your mind of a mistake. That was all." And she turned away from the angry girl.

All this time the other young people had said nothing. It was really an embarra.s.sing situation, considering that David had not said a word either for or against his sister.

"I think we had better not coast any more to-night," said Nora, after a pause. "David has hurt his hand and Anne is so shaken that it would be well to give her something hot to drink. Come on, everybody."

"David, are you much hurt?" asked Grace uneasily.

"Nothing but a little cut," he said shortly, so shortly that Grace flushed. Perhaps he was angry with her for having spoken out to Miriam.

"I hope you aren't hurt much, David," said Miriam.

David made no reply.

"David," she repeated in a louder voice.

But her brother had started down the hill, his hands in his pockets.

n.o.body took much notice of Miriam as the young people followed after him. Reddy Brooks was secretly congratulating himself that he hadn't been riding behind her on the sled as she had wished, insisting that she wanted to do the guiding herself. It was curious, he thought, and might have resulted in a serious accident, at least to Anne if David hadn't pulled her away. If Miriam had only thought to throw herself to the right when she saw Anne in the way. Girls had no heads, anyway, that is, most girls. Grace, he decided, was almost equal to a man for coolness and good judgment. But there were few girls who could touch Grace Harlowe; and he did a series of cartwheels in the snow to emphasize his feelings, to the relief of everybody present, for the silence was becoming uncomfortable.

"Nora," said Anne when they had reached town, "if you'll excuse me I think I'll go home. I'm a little tired."

"I'll take you home, Anne," said David, who had heard her remark. "I don't feel much like partifying either after this jolt. Come along, little girl," and he tucked Anne's arm in his and marched her off without another word.

"All my party is leaving before the party," cried Nora in despair.

"No, not all," replied Hippy Wingate. "There are still a few of us left, and I promise to drink any extra chocolate you may happen to have."

"Don't give the animals sweets, Nora," exclaimed Reddy. "Especially the hippopotamus. He has a delicate stomach. You see, his keeper used to feed him chocolate drops three times a day."

Hippy grinned good-naturedly. He was a round roly-poly boy, famous for his appet.i.te.

"Get away from here, Red Curls," he cried, hitting Reddy in the back with a s...o...b..ll.

"Oh, you coward," cried Reddy, talking in a high falsetto voice, "to hit a man when his back is turned. I'll slap you for that," and he landed a s...o...b..ll on Hippy's chest.

Hippy crouched behind the girls.

"I was a fool to throw at a pitcher," he cried; "he'll be sending me one of his curves in a minute."

"Hiding behind the ladies, hey?" returned Reddy, beginning to pitch s...o...b..a.l.l.s at the girls.

"Let's wash his face," cried Nora to the other boys and girls coming up just then. They chased Reddy all the way to Nora's house and rolled him in the snow until he cried "enough."