"Ain't he a nut, though?" exclaimed Bobby.

"He is peculiar," agreed Douglas.

"Do you like for him to walk home with you, Dug?"

"I don't know whether I do or not."

"Well, I don't like it a bit, 'cep'n, of co'se, when he goose steps an'

then it's great. I seen a colored fellow a-goose steppin' the other day, an' he says he learned it at the count's school what Mr. Herz is a-teachin'. He says they call it settin' up exercises, but he would like to do some settin' down exercise. I reckon he was tryin' to make a kinder joke."

CHAPTER XIV

AN EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY

Every American will always remember that winter of 1917 as being one of extreme unrest. Would we or would we not be plunged into the World War?

Should we get in the game or should we sit quietly by and see Germany overrun land and sea?

Valhalla was not too much out of the world to share in the excitement, and like most of the world was divided in its opinions. Douglas and her father were for the sword and no more pens. Helen and Mrs. Carter felt it was a pity to mix up in a row that was not ours, although in her secret soul Helen knew full well that the row was ours and if war was to be declared she would be as good a fighter as the next. Nan was an out and out pacifist and declared the world was too beautiful to mar with all of this bloodshed. Lucy insisted that Nan got her sentiments from Count de Lestis, who had been "hogging" a seat by her sister quite often in the weeks before that day in March when diplomatic relations with Germany were broken off by our country. As for Lucy: she could tell you all about the causes of the war and was quite up on Bismarck's policy, etc. She delighted her father with her knowledge of history and her logical views of the present situation. She and Mag were determined to go as Red Cross nurses if we did declare war, certain that if they tucked up their hair and let down their dresses no one would dream they were only fourteen. Bobby walked on his toes and held his head very high, trying to look tall, hoping he could go as a drummer boy or something if he could only stretch himself a bit.

"Good news, girls!" cried Helen one evening in February when they had drawn their seats around the roaring fire piled high with wood cut by Mr. Carter, whose muscles were getting as hard as iron from his outdoor work.

"What?" in a chorus from the girls, always ready for any kind of news, good or bad.

"The count is going to have a ball!"

"Really? When?"

"On the twenty-second of February! He says if he gives a party on Washington's birthday n.o.body can doubt his patriotism."

"Humph! I don't see what business he has with patriotism about our Washington," muttered Lucy.

"But he does feel patriotic about the United States, he told me he did,"

said Nan.

"I think he means to take out his naturalization papers in the near future," said Mr. Carter.

"He tells me he feels very lonesome now that he is in a way debarred from his own country," sighed Mrs. Carter. "That book he wrote has made the Kaiser very angry."

"Well, after the war is over that book will raise him in the estimation of all democracies," suggested Douglas.

"Mag says that Billy wrote to Brentano's to try and get him that book and they say they can't find it; never heard of it," blurted out Lucy.

"It has perhaps not been translated into English," said Helen loftily.

"Mag says that that's no matter. Brentano will get you any old book in any old language if it is in existence."

"How can they when a book has been suppressed? I reckon the Kaiser is about as efficient about suppressing as he is about everything else.

Well, book or no book, I'm glad to be going to a ball. He says we must ask our friends from Richmond and he is going to invite everybody in the county and have a great big splendid affair, music from Richmond, and supper, too."

"Kin I go?" asked Bobby, curling up in Helen's lap, a way he had of doing when there was no company to see him and sleep was getting the better of him.

"Of course you can, if you take a good nap in the daytime."

"Daddy and Mumsy, you will go, surely," said Douglas.

"Yes, indeed, if your mother wants to! I'm not much of a dancer these days, but I bet she can outdance any of you girls. Eh, Mother?"

"Not as delicate as I am now; but of course I shall go to the ball to chaperone my girls," said the little lady plaintively. "I doubt my dancing, however."

"He says we must ask Dr. Wright and Lewis and any other people we want.

He says he is really giving this ball to us because we have been so hospitable to him," continued Helen.

"We haven't been any nicer to him than Miss Ella and Miss Louise," said Lucy, who seemed bent on obstructing.

"But they are too old to have b.a.l.l.s given to them," laughed Helen. "They are going, though. I went to see them this afternoon with Count de Lestis and they are just as much interested as I am. They asked the privilege of making the cakes for the supper and he was so tactful that he did not tell them he was to have a grand caterer to do the whole thing. The old ladies just love to do it, and one is to make angel's food and one devil's food.

"The Suttons are going," and Helen held the floor without interruptions because of the subject that was interesting to all the family. "Mr.

Sutton says if the roads permit he will send his big car to take our whole family, and if the roads are too b.u.m he will have the carriage out for Mrs. Sutton and Mumsy, and all of us can go in the hay wagon."

"Grand! I hope the roads will be muddy up to the hubs!" cried Lucy. "Hay wagons are lots more fun than automobiles."

"Hard on one's clothes, though," and Helen looked a little rueful. The question of dress was important when one had nothing but old last year's things that were so much too narrow.

"What are you going to wear to the ball?" asked Douglas that night when she and Helen were snuggling down in their bed in the little room up under the roof.

"I haven't anything but my rose chiffon. It is pretty faded looking and hopelessly out of style, but I am going to try to freshen it up a bit.

Ah me! I don't mind working, but I do wish I were not an unproductive consumer. I'd like to make some money myself and sometimes buy something."

Douglas patted her sister consolingly. "Poor old Helen! I do feel so bad about you."

"Well, you needn't! But I did see such a love of a dancing frock when we were down town that day with Cousin Elizabeth: white tulle over a silver cloth with silver girdle and tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. It was awfully simple but so effective. I could just see myself in it. I ought to be ashamed to let clothes make so much difference with me, but I can't help it. I am better about it than I was at first, don't you think?"

"I think you are splendid and I also think you have the hardest job of all to do: working all the time and never making any money."

The next morning Douglas held a whispered conversation with Nan before they got off to their respective schools.

"See what it costs but don't let Helen know. She will be eighteen tomorrow, and if it isn't worth a million, I am going to take some of my last month's salary and get it for her."

When Nan, who was not much of a shopper, approached the great windows of Richmond's leading department store, what was her joy to see the very gown that Douglas had described to her displayed on Broad Street and marked down to a sum in the reach of a district school teacher.

"It looks so like Helen, somehow, that I can almost see her wearing it in place of the wax dummy," exclaimed Nan.

"Must I charge it, Miss Carter?" asked the pleasant saleswoman as she took the precious dress out of the show-window.

"Please, Miss Luly, somehow I'd rather not charge it, but I haven't the money today. Couldn't you fix it up somehow so I could take it with me and bring you the money tomorrow? We don't charge any more, but if I don't buy it right now I'm so afraid somebody else might get it."