"Grace thought of it," said Anne. "We found all those costumes up in the garret in the old cedar chest. We knew the story by heart, and we knew the minuet. We danced it at an entertainment in Oakdale last winter. We had a very short rehearsal this afternoon in the garret and that's all."

"Anne arranged the scenes and coached David in his part of the pantomime," said Grace. "She did more than I."

The judge's guests, also, added their tribute of admiration to that of the judge.

"It was all so real. I could scarcely refrain from telling that poor young husband where his bride had hidden herself," laughed one old gentleman.

"Why don't you children have a little dance?" asked the judge. "This hall ought to make a good ball room, and you can take turns at the piano."

"Oh, may we, Judge?" cried Grace in delight. "I am simply dying to have a good waltz on this floor."

"I'll play for you for a while," volunteered Miriam, "then Eva and Jessica can take my place."

Five minutes later the young folks were gliding about the big hall to the strains of a Strauss' waltz, while the judge and his friends looked on, taking an almost melancholy pleasure in the gay scene of youthful enjoyment.

"Will you dance the next waltz with me, Miss Harlowe!" said Henry Hammond to Grace, as she sat resting after a two-step.

After a second's hesitation Grace replied in the affirmative. Despite her resolve to make peace with him, up to that moment Grace had been unable to bring herself to the point of speaking pleasantly to him.

The waltz began, and as they glided around the room she was obliged to acknowledge herself that Henry Hammond's dancing left nothing to be desired.

"Perhaps my impressions of him are unjust, after all," thought Grace. "I suppose I have no right to criticize him so severely, even though he was rude to me the other night. I was rude, too. Perhaps he will turn out--"

But Grace's reflections were cut short by her partner, who had stopped in the center of the hall.

"Miss Harlowe," he said with a disagreeable smile, "you are standing directly under the mistletoe. I suppose you know the penalty."

Grace looked at him with flashing eyes. "Mr. Hammond," she replied, flushing angrily, "you purposely halted under the mistletoe, and if for one minute you think that you can take advantage of a foolish tradition by so doing you are mistaken. When we girls coaxed Judge Putnam under the mistletoe the other night, it was merely with the view of offering a pretty courtesy to an elderly gentleman. None of our boys would think of being so silly, and I want you to distinctly understand that not one of our crowd is given to demonstrations of that sort."

"Miss Harlowe," replied Henry Hammond between his teeth, "you are an insolent, ill-bred young woman, and it is plain to be seen that you are determined to misconstrue my every action and incur my enmity. So be it, but let me warn you that my hatred is no light matter."

"Your friendship or your enmity are a matter of equal indifference to me, Mr. Hammond," answered Grace, and with a cool nod she crossed the room and joined Nora and Hippy, who were sitting on the stairs playing cats' cradle with the long silver chain of Nora's fan.

CHAPTER XIII

TOM AND GRACE SCENT TROUBLE

The time pa.s.sed all too rapidly, and with many expressions of regret on both sides the judge and his youthful guests parted, two days before the New Year.

On account of the house party the Phi Sigma Tau had been obliged to postpone until New Year's Day entertaining as they had done the previous year the stray High School girls who were far from home. Therefore, the moment they arrived in Oakdale they found their hands full.

Mrs. Gray had been in California with her brother since September, and the girls greatly missed the sprightly old lady. It was the first Christmas since they had entered High School that she had not been with them, and they were looking forward with great eagerness to her return in February.

Julia Crosby, who was at Smith College, had accepted an invitation from her roommate to spend the holidays in Boston, much to Grace's disappointment, who had reckoned on Julia as one of the judge's house party.

New Year's Day the Phi Sigma Tau n.o.bly lived up to their reputation as entertainers of those girls who they had originally pledged themselves to look out for, but New Year's Night the four girl chums had reserved for a special gathering which included the "eight originals" only. It was Miriam who had made this possible by inviting Eva Allen, James Gardiner, Arnold Evans, Marian Barber, and much against her will, Henry Hammond, to a dinner.

"Don't feel slighted at being left off my dinner list," she said to Grace, then added slyly, "Why don't the eight originals hold forth at Nora's?"

"You're a positive dear, Miriam," Grace replied. "We have been wanting to have an old-time frolic, but didn't wish to seem selfish and clannish."

"Opportunity is knocking at your gate, get busy," was Miriam's advice, which Grace was not slow to follow.

"At last there are signs of that spread that I was promised at the bazaar," proclaimed Hippy Wingate cheerfully, as attired in a long gingham ap.r.o.n belonging to Nora's elder sister, he energetically stirred fudge in a chafing dish and insisted every other minute that Nora should try it to see if it were done.

"You'll have to stir it a lot, yet," Nora informed him.

"But I'm so tired," protested Hippy. "I think Tom or Reddy might change jobs with me."

"Not so you could notice it," was the united reply from these two young men who sat with a basket of English walnuts between them and did great execution with nut crackers, while Anne and David separated the kernels from their sh.e.l.ls.

The eight originals had repaired to the O'Malley kitchen immediately after their arrival, and were deep in the preparation of the spread, long deferred.

Grace stood by the gas range watching the chocolate she was making, while Nora and Jessica sat at a table making tiny sandwiches of white and brown bread with fancy fillings.

"This spread will taste much better because we've all had a hand in it,"

remarked David, as he handed Nora a dish of nut kernels, which she dropped into the mixture over which Hippy labored.

"I never fully realized my own cleverness until to-night," said Hippy modestly. "My powers as a fudge maker are simply marvelous."

"Humph!" jeered David, "you haven't done anything except stir it, and you tried to quit doing that."

"But no one paid any attention to my complaints, so I turned out successfully without aid," retorted Hippy, waving his spoon in triumph.

"Stop talking," ordered Nora, "and pour that fudge into this pan before it hardens."

"At your service," said Hippy, with a flourish of the chafing dish that almost resulted in sending its contents to the floor, and elicited Nora's stern disapproval.

"How fast the time has gone," remarked David to Anne. "Just to think that it's back to the college for us to-morrow."

"It will seem a long time until Easter," replied Anne rather sadly.

"And still longer to us," was David's answer.

"Oh, I don't know about that," put in Grace, who had heard the conversation. "I think it is always more lonely for those who are left behind. Oakdale will seem awfully dull and sleepy. We can't play basketball any more this year on account of the loss of the gym., and we seniors are going to give a concert instead of a play. So there are no exciting prospects ahead. There will be no cla.s.s dances as we have no place to dance, unless we hire a hall, and we never have money enough for that."

"How about the five hundred dollars the judge sent?" asked Reddy.

"Oh, we have decided not to touch that. The money we take in at the concert will be added to it," said Nora. "That will be two entertainments for the seniors, and we think that is enough. We want the other cla.s.ses to have a chance to make some money, too."

"If we only had the bazaar money that was stolen," said Anne regretfully.

"Strange that no trace of the thief was ever found," remarked David. "I know that my wrist was lame for a week from the twist that rascal gave it."