"My sister," answered David shortly.

"She must be a pretty good driver," observed Tom.

David made no reply. He knew perfectly well that Miriam was not strong enough to hold in the black team, once the horses got the upper hand; but he hoped one of the boys would take the reins if they showed any symptoms of running away.

The early twilight was just falling when the Gray house party came to a narrow, rickety old bridge spanning the bed of a creek. Here they stopped the horses for a time, while Grace and Hippy gathered some branches of evergreen growing on the edge of a wood, just over the bridge.

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the sound of bells ringing so violently that it seemed as if all Bedlam had broken loose. Around a curve and down the road in front of them loomed Miriam's blacks, making straight for the other group. They were going like the wind, and the empty sleigh, lying on its side, was clattering behind them.

"Jump, girls!" cried Tom, while with the other boys he started to cross the bridge to intercept the horses.

If Grace had paused to reflect she might never have attempted accomplishing the daring deed that suggested itself to her. Quickly s.n.a.t.c.hing off her scarlet cape, she dashed into the middle of the road, waving it before her. Perhaps the horses also thought Bedlam had been let loose. At sight of the terrifying apparition, they slackened up, snorted and reared backward.

"She is a brave girl," thought Tom Gray, as he leaped at the nearest rearing, plunging animal, while David seized the other. Far down the road came the sound of a faint halloo.

"I'll pick up the others. I suppose they are in a drift," said Reddy, as he drove off and in a few minutes returned carrying Miriam and her party. Miriam herself looked white and frightened, although she pretended to treat the affair lightly.

"A rabbit scared the horses," was all she said. "I'll let one of the boys drive us home."

"Indeed, I shan't go back in that sleigh," cried Julia Crosby.

"Perhaps you'll accept a ride in the freshman sleigh, Miss Crosby,"

suggested Nora; and the other girl, somewhat ashamed, was obliged to place herself at the mercy of her enemies.

"All of you girls get into Mrs. Gray's sleigh," commanded David, "and Tom and I will drive the other sleigh back." No one ever cared to disobey David when he spoke in this tone. Even his wilful sister took her seat between Grace and Anne without a word and never spoke during the entire drive back, except to say good night at her own front gate.

But Grace could not refrain from one sharp little thrust.

"You seem to be unlucky with sleighs and sleds both, Miriam," she said.

CHAPTER XVI

THE MARIONETTE SHOW

Do you remember your first party dress? How it gave a glimpse of the throat and neck, and seemed to sweep the ground all around, although it merely reached your shoe tops?

Did you feel a thrill of pleasure when the last hook and eye was fastened and you surveyed yourself in the longest mirror in the house?

So it was with Anne in her pink crepe de Chine. Or was it really Anne, this little vision in rose color with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes?

She stood spellbound before the gla.s.s on that memorable Christmas night, and no one disturbed her for awhile. Mrs. Gray and the girls had stolen out so as not to embarra.s.s the young girl who, for the first time, saw herself in a beautiful new silk dress exactly the color of pink rose petals, which hung in soft folds to the tips of her small pink satin slippers.

"Give her a chance, girls," whispered Mrs. Gray. "We mustn't be too enthusiastic about the difference. It might hurt her tender little feelings. But she _does_ look sweet, doesn't she?"

"As pretty as a picture, Mrs. Gray," answered Grace, kissing the old lady's peach blossom cheek. "But they are coming. I hear them on the walk. We must get behind the scenes and see that everything is all ready."

The big drawing room of the Gray house was soon full of young people watching the folding doors leading into the library with expectant faces. In the hall a string orchestra was discoursing soft music and the place was filled with the hum of conversation and low laughter. Mrs.

Gray, seated on the front row, in the place of honor, occasionally looked about her and smiled happily.

"Why didn't I do this long ago?" she said to herself. "But then, were there ever before such nice girls as my four adopted daughters?"

Miriam sat near, with the other members of her house party. It had been a source of much discussion whether or not to admit Julia Crosby to the freshman party. But, since she was Miriam's guest, what else was there to do?

"We shall be only heaping coals of fire on her head at any rate," hinted Jessica, "and that certainly ought to make her feel worse than if she had been left out."

After everyone was comfortably seated three loud raps were heard from behind the folding doors. Some one began to play "The Funeral March of a Marionette" on the piano, and the doors slid slowly back.

There was a murmur of surprise and wonder.

Two curtains had been stretched across the door opening above and below and two hung down at each side, leaving an oblong s.p.a.ce in the middle in which stood a little doll theater nearly a yard and a half long and a yard high. A row of footlights across the miniature stage presently blossomed into light, and the freshman girls smiled as they recognized some of those same little bulbs that had served to illuminate the pumpkin face of Miss Leece's effigy. The music ceased and the curtains rolled back. There sat Cinderella by the kitchen fire, very stiff and straight, but weeping audibly with her little fists in her eyes. She was ten inches high and, on careful examination, it could be seen that two threads attached to her arms, and another to the back of her neck, made it possible for her to move about and use her hands in a remarkably life-like manner.

Wild applause from the audience. Well there might be, for the scene was perfect, from the old brick fireplace with an iron pot steaming on the coals to the rows of shining pans and blue dishes on a shelf at the side, all of which came from a toy shop, along with a little kitchen bench and chairs.

The cruel sisters swept in, dressed for the ball. When they spoke there were convulsive t.i.tters among the guests for the voices of the cruel step-sisters were those of Nora and Hippy. Anne read the lines of Cinderella so plaintively that Mrs. Gray shed a secret tear or two when Cinderella was left alone in the gloomy old kitchen. When the fairy G.o.dmother appeared, in a peaked red hat and a long red cape, it was Jessica who spoke the lines in a sweet, musical voice. How Cinderella rolled out the pumpkin and displayed six white mice in a trap, and how, after a brief interval of total darkness, could be seen through the open door a coach of gold in which sat Cinderella in a silken gown, need not be related here. It all took place without a single slip and the dolls went through their parts with such funny life-like motions that the boys and girls forgot they were not watching real actors.

It was the scene of the ballroom, however, which was the real triumph of the evening.

"How did those clever children ever do it?" exclaimed Mrs. Gray, aloud, when the curtain rolled back and disclosed the ballroom of the palace, with a drop curtain at the back showing a vista of marble columns and pillars. A gilt chandelier was suspended in the middle, from which stretched garlands of real smilax. There were rows of little gilt chairs against the walls filled with dolls in stiff satins and brocades. And one large throne chair with a red velvet cushion in it, on which sat the prince, who spoke with the voice of David Nesbit, and entertained his guests in royal state. After the exciting arrival of Cinderella, Nora played a minuet on the mandolin, the tinkling music of which seemed best suited to the doll drama, and the prince and Cinderella executed a dance of such intricate steps and low bows that the audience was convulsed with laughter. There were even suppressed t.i.tters from behind the scenes. This dance, which had been devised by Tom Gray and Grace, necessitated two extra threads to manipulate the feet. It was most difficult and had required long and tedious practice, but the results were quite worth all the time and trouble.

Mrs. Gray laughed till the tears rolled down her cheeks and made a personal appeal for an encore, which was given; but there was a mishap this time; Cinderella's threads became entangled and she came near to breaking her china nose. Audiences are invariably most pitiless when they are most pleased, and have no mercy on exhausted actors. At the cry of "Speech! Speech!" the Prince stepped forward and made a low bow.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we thank you for your approval and if strength and breath permitted us, and the lady had not injured her nose, we would gladly dance again for you."

Then came the last scene. The step-sisters made desperate efforts to wear the slipper; Cinderella finally retired triumphantly on the prince's arm, and the curtains closed only to open again a few moments later upon a scene which bore a strong resemblance to Oakdale High School. The fairy G.o.dmother occupied the center of the stage while the entire company of dolls were lined up on either side. Cinderella and the prince, each held the end of an open scroll, which bore a printed inscription that could be seen by the audience. It read:

"A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THE FAIRY G.o.dMOTHER OF THE FRESHMAN CLa.s.s."

A scene of wild enthusiasm followed. The young people gave three cheers for Mrs. Gray and ended with the High School yell. The actors came out and were cheered each in turn.

Grace, Tom Gray and Reddy had worked the marionettes, it seemed, standing on the back of the table where the theater was placed, while the others, sitting on low stools at the sides where they could see and not be seen, read their lines which had been composed by Anne.

"It wasn't so hard as you might think," said Grace, explaining the marionettes to a group of friends. "Dressing the dolls was easy; we glued on most of their clothes, and we made the step-sisters ugly by giving them putty noses. Hippy painted the scenery and David supplied the electric lights. The threads that moved the arms and bodies were tied to little cross sticks something like a gallows, so that they could be held from above without being seen."

But the marionette show was only the beginning of the party. There was to be feasting and dancing, and, lastly, a big Christmas tree loaded with presents.

The floors were cleared. The notes of a waltz rang out, and away whirled the happy boys and girls. Anne and David, who did not dance, retired to a sofa in the library to look on.

"Are you happy, Anne, in your beautiful pink dress?" asked David, regarding her with open admiration.

"How can I help being happy?" she replied. "This is the first pretty dress that I have ever had and I never went to a party before, either."

"I never enjoyed a party before," said David, "but I'm enjoying this one. I hope, for Mrs. Gray's sake, it goes off without a hitch."

Just then Tom Gray waltzed by with Grace. They stopped when they saw their friends, and came back.

"Our efforts are certainly crowned with success," exclaimed Grace. "It's the most beautiful ball ever given in Oakdale. Everyone says so. By the way," she added, "get your partners and fall in line for the grand march to supper."