"I haf effery dings, effery dings," replied the ponderous costumer; "you don't t'ink I keeps dose fine procade for the costume ball out here in te tust, ain't it?"

"I wanted something for a school entertainment," Winnie explained.

"So, so; I haf effery dings, I tole you, for de school. Ya, from dose Kindergarten to dot universities. Dings for little peebles and dings for big peebles."

"I should like to know what kind of big people patronize your establishment?"

"Sometimes dose ladies who make de church fair. I have some angel wing for de Christmas mystery, de mask for de Muzzer Goose pantomine.

Sometimes dose fine ladies dey make some peesness mit me. When de shentlemen step on dose trail or spill coffee on dot tablier, den I buys dot dress, and my designer she make it all new again. I haf one ferry nice designer; she haf many times arrange ze historical costume for dose grand painting what make ze artists."

"Then I think I would like to talk with her," said Winnie.

"Ya, ya, dat vas right. Here, Mrs. Halsey, Mrs. Halsey! Perhaps you petter go in de sewing-room, ain't it?"

He opened the door into a back room where a sweet pale-faced woman sat sewing little bells on a jester's cap.

We were struck from the outset with Mrs. Halsey's refined appearance, and we were not surprised when she showed, by her complete understanding of what we required, that she had read Tennyson and had some idea of historical periods in costume. She drew a purple velvet robe from a great bundle. I exclaimed in disapproval as I noticed a horrid crimson border.

"But this is coming off," said the little woman, using her scissors briskly, "and instead, I will st.i.tch some gold braid applique in a lily design. See, how do you like this effect?" and her deft fingers flew, coiling and twisting the gilt braid until a really regal combination was produced.

"Then we will have it open at the side to show a white satin petticoat, also laced with gold, and the sleeves can be puffed and slashed with white satin. I arranged a costume like that for Mary Anderson."

"Is it possible that such a noted and successful actress gets her costumes at a place like this?" asked Witch Winnie.

"Oh, no," replied Mrs. Halsey, with a sigh; "when I made Miss Anderson's dresses I was designer for Madame Celeste's establishment. I should be there now if it were not for Jim."

She was fitting the dress to me, and as this would take several minutes, Winnie asked,

"Who is Jim?"

"Jim is my son; he is twelve years old, and the brightest little fellow, for his age, you ever saw. He leads his cla.s.ses at the public school, has a record of 100 in mathematics, for all that he has such a poor chance at preparing his lessons."

"How does that happen?" It was I who inquired this time.

"Jim is an ambitious boy; ambitious to help me as well as to keep a place in his cla.s.s, and a milkman pays him a dollar a week for driving his cart over to Jersey City to meet the milk train and fill his cans for him every morning."

"That is very nice."

"If it did not break so cruelly into the poor boy's hours for sleep. In order to dress and s.n.a.t.c.h a bite before he goes down to the stable and harnesses, he has to rise at 3 o'clock. This enables the milkman to sleep until Jim arrives with the milk at 6 o'clock, in time to begin the morning rounds. I make the boy take an hour's sleep after this, but it is not enough."

"He ought to go to bed very early."

"Yes, but the lessons; when are they to be learned? He shouts them out in his sleep. 'If I gain seven hundred dollars from a rise of 2-1/2 per cent. in Pennsylvania Railroad stock, what was my original investment?'

He has his father's quickness for figures. Bless his heart! he never had any money to invest in railroad stocks, and by heaven's help he never will."

"I am not so sure about that," said Witch Winnie. "How did it happen that you lost your position at Madame Celeste's on account of Jim?" She had finished the fitting and was removing the pins from her mouth, but Winnie drew on her gloves very slowly; we were both interested.

"Madame kept me for such late hours that I did not reach home until Jim was asleep, and at last she proposed to raise my salary, but said that I must sleep in the establishment, so as to be on hand to open early in the morning. This was after Madame's very successful winter, when she bought a house out of town, and did not find it convenient to come in until late in the day. I told her that I would accept her offer if Jim could be with me; but there was no room for him, and we thought it best to stick together. I get through here at 6 o'clock, and can cook Jim's dinner. But it's hard for the boy. If I could only afford to let him have his entire time for his study--but his dollar a week half pays our rent."

"Wouldn't it have been better for you both if you had remained at Madame Celeste's, and had sent Jim to boarding-school? There are such nice cadet schools up the Hudson."

A faint smile overspread the woman's face. "Madame always insisted that her employees should dress well. I know exactly what it cost me. It would have left just a dollar and a half a week for Jim. Do you know of any boarding-school that would have taken him at those rates?"

Winnie sorrowfully confessed that she did not, and we reluctantly took our leave, Mrs. Halsey promising to finish the costume immediately, and to send it by Jim in ample time for the evening's performances.

Our escapade lay heavily upon my conscience in spite of our success in obtaining the costume, but I felt still more troubled for poor Mrs.

Halsey and her overworked boy. "I wonder," I said to Winnie, "if Madame could not make him useful here at the school, and let him work for his board, tend furnace and run errands."

"You could not tell her about him without confessing our lark, and don't you do that for the world!"

"No," I promised, against my will, "of course not, unless you consent; the secret is half yours, but I really think it would be the best way."

Adelaide was greatly interested in our report. "I am to have my violin dress for the concert made at Madame Celeste's," she said, "and I mean to ask her about this Mrs. Halsey."

Jim came with the package while we were at supper, and Adelaide ran down to the office to receive it. She told us that he was an undersized, stoop-shouldered boy, with a cough which she fancied he had contracted by driving in the early morning mists. He took off his hat like a little gentleman, however, and his finger-nails and teeth were clean. Any clown might wear good clothes, Adelaide insisted, but these little details marked the gentleman. He had at first declined the dime which Adelaide proffered, but accepted it on her insistence that it was only for car-fare and it was raining. He put it away carefully in a little worn purse which contained just one cent, at the same time remarking, "I don't mind the rain, and I can get Ma the quinine the doctor says she ought to be taking."

"That's the boy for me," Witch Winnie remarked; "he's got clear grit, and tenderness for his mother besides."

And Guinevere's gown? It was a beauty. The golden lilies gave it a sumptuous effect, and it fulfilled almost exactly the promises of the forged letter; there was even a _riviere_ of fish-scale pearls and gla.s.s beads down the side, which really resembled a chatelaine. The Hornets were overcome with amazement--simply dazzled and dazed.

According to Adelaide--who always resorted to French to express her superlatives, and, when that language proved inadequate, pieced it out with translations of American slang or coinage of her own--they were "_Completement bouleversees, stupefiees, mortifiees, et frappee plus haute q'un--q'un--kite_!"

CHAPTER III.

THE PRINCESS.

[Ill.u.s.tration: {Drawing of the dear old lady.}]

That's the dear old lady, In a green tabby gown And a great lace cap, With long lace ruffles hanging down.

There she sits In a cushioned high-backed seat, Covered over with crimson damask, With a footstool at her feet.

You see what a handsome room it is, Full of old carving and gilding; The house is, one may be sure, Of the Elizabethan style of building.

--_Mary Howitt._

Our interest in Mrs. Halsey and her son slumbered for a time; not that we forgot her, or gave up our determination to do something for Jim whenever the opportunity offered. It was soon to come, but our time and interest were filled with other things. Just now it was a mystery--and what so dear to a girl's imagination?

It was brought up for discussion afresh, because Miss Prillwitz had said to Emma Jane Anton that the diadem which I wore as Guinevere was not a suitable one for a queen, but a rather nondescript arrangement half-way between that of a marquis and an earl.

This a.s.sumption of authoritative knowledge in regard to coronets revived an old rumor as to the n.o.ble birth of Miss Prillwitz.

No one could tell who first circulated the report that Miss Prillwitz was a princess. It developed little by little, I fancy, but when it began to be whispered we received it without a shadow of doubt. Miss Prillwitz was a prim little woman, who always came to Madame's receptions dressed in the same brocade dress, once gaudy with a great bouquet pattern, but now faded into faint pink and primrose on a background of silvery-green, with the same carefully cleaned gloves and fine old fan of the period of Marie Antoinette. She wore her perfectly white hair a la Pompadour, and further increased her diminutive height by French heels, but in spite of these artificial contrivances she was a tiny woman, though she had dignity enough for a very tall one. Adelaide said she had "the unmistakable air of a _grande dame_," and that she would have suspected her in any disguise. Milly had once spied, half tucked in her belt and dependent from a slender chain, a miniature, set in brilliants, of a handsome young man in uniform, a row of decorations on his breast, crosses and stars hanging from strips of bright ribbon.

This was a great discovery, and Milly was sure that the original was no less a personage than Peter the Great. She had thought out a thrilling romance of true love crossed by jealousy and heartbreak, which the rest of the girls accepted as more than probable, until Emma Jane Anton suggested that as Peter the Great died in 1725, it would really make the princess much older than she appeared, to fancy that he was the hero of her girlhood. Emma Jane Anton always had a disagreeable faculty of remembering dates. The other girls were unanimous in the opinion that she knew entirely too much, and each one looked and longed for an opportunity of publicly detecting her in a mistake and correcting her--an opportunity which never came. Milly never made herself offensive by being certain of anything, and was loved and petted accordingly. The myth of a royal lover was a congenial one, and gained credence, though none of us dared to give him a name or date, at least not in the presence of Emma Jane Anton. No one had the temerity to question Adelaide's infallibility in detecting a great lady at first sight. It did not ever occur to Emma Jane Anton to ask how many princesses she had met, and what was the "unmistakable air" of distinction and n.o.bility which announced them like a herald's proclamation. Perhaps this was because Adelaide herself possessed this grand air by nature, and was far more regal in appearance and feeling than many a Guelph or Stuart. Witch Winnie, perhaps because she was the mad-cap of the boarding-school, and was always getting into sc.r.a.pes herself, snuffed a political plot, and suggested that the princess had been exiled on account of deep-laid machinations against one of the reigning families, a supposition which would account for her living in exile and disguise, and even in comparative poverty. This explanation, as being the most ingenious, and affording fascinating scope for the imagination, was the most popular one, and was more or less elaborated according to the individual fancy of the young lady. Emma Jane Anton was obliged to admit that she might be a princess, and that there was no harm in calling her so amongst ourselves. Madame had let fall some very singular expressions when she announced the fact that we were to have her for our teacher in Botany.

Emma Jane had heard her, and it was she who had reported the news to the others.