CHAPTER VII: CAROLYN’S GARDEN PARTY
The rest of the week went by in pleasant anticipation of the gardenparty, Betty’s first. To be sure there had been “loads of picnics,” andlawn fetes for the church, usually in the spring or early summer. But areal “garden party” _must_ be different. There was much consultationabout clothes between Betty and her mother. One of the girls had saidthat of course one wouldn’t wear her _old_ clothes, or her Girl Scout orCamp Fire Girl suits, as you would on a picnic to the woods. _She_ wasgoing to play tennis, and her mother had gotten her an “_awfullypretty_” white sport suit!
Well, what _was_ a sport suit anyhow? Mrs. Lee took Amy Lou down town,one morning when Mr. Lee could drive them down, and spent a rathertrying morning trying to shop with a child. She looked at dresses andpatterns, with a view of fitting Betty suitably for the occasion. Butthe new things were expensive. Finally, by letting down a skirt Bettyhad and arranging a suitable blouse, or upper part, what Betty called a“near?sport” frock was evolved.
Then, after all the effort, Betty came home one afternoon with a newidea. “Mother, it’s turned so awfully hot–Indian summer, I suppose–thatPeggy says she isn’t going to play tennis or anything on a court, andshe’s going to wear her light green flat crepe that is her second best,or else some real cool summer dress, whatever happens to be ready. Peggydoesn’t care! I believe I’ll just wear my pretty thin blue and let it goat that. I don’t want to play tennis either, especially when I don’tknow anybody much and not so very many can play. Carolyn says she’sgoing to pay all her social debts at once and have a big party, so I’llbe lost in the multitude.”
Like Janet, Mrs. Lee privately thought that Betty would never be “lostin the multitude,” but she did not say so. “So Carolyn is paying all her‘social debts,’ is she?” asked Betty’s mother, amused at the “socialdebts” expression. “It is just as well that you have decided on theblue. It will look pretty in the gardens and _I’d_ dress for the flowersinstead of the tennis court.”
“Aren’t you poetic, Mother! It’s a shame that you went to all thetrouble about the other dress, though.”
“That will be so much clear gain, child. You now have another frock,which will come in for service at some time, no doubt.”
When the day and the hour arrived, Betty’s father arrived home late forlunch, as he could do on Saturday, unless there were some executivemeeting. That settled the question of how to get to the party, and Bettycalled up two of her friends to say that her father was going to takeher and that she would stop for them if they liked. Naturally they wereglad of the opportunity, for the Gwynne estate was out at some distance,_almost_ a “country estate,” Peggy had said. “Call up,” said Betty’sfather, “when you want to come home, or rather, when I should start fromhome in time to reach you. We’ll take note of the time we spend gettingthere. Then I’ll bring a machine full of whomever you like.”
“Oh, that is so good of you, Mr. Lee!” exclaimed Dotty Bradshaw, one ofthe freshman girls whom Betty had invited to ride with them. “Butperhaps Betty will want somebody else, though,” added Dotty, happeningto think that perhaps she was taking too much, for granted.
“Why, Dotty, of _course_ if we call for you we’ll see you back home.We’re sort of new to the city, though, so perhaps you can tell me wholive places that wouldn’t be too far away.”
“Most anybody that attends our high school would be all right,” answeredDotty, “because girls that live in other parts of town would go to otherhigh schools.”
“Of course! I didn’t think!”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Selma Rardon, the other freshmanin the car. “There are sometimes people way out, like Carolyn herself.”
Betty was already assured by the very different dresses of the girlswith her, and when she arrived at the beautiful place where Carolynlived she thought how silly she had been to worry about clothes. Still,you wanted to be suitably dressed, and when you knew hardly anybody,there was some excuse. And oh, there _were_ boys, too. She saw a numberof lads whose faces she knew by having seen them in the differentfreshman classes. Then there were others whom she did not know at all.By the time Betty and her friends turned into the drive which led to thehouse, most of the boys and girls had arrived, it seemed and were dottedin groups all over the closely clipped lawn which still looked likevelvet between its flower beds and shrubbery. Oh, wasn’t it beautiful?Betty was so glad that her father could see where the party was.
“I was afraid you weren’t coming at all, Betty,” said Carolyn, squeezingBetty’s hands, “but there are still a few that haven’t gotten here.”
“I waited for Father to bring us,” replied Betty, “and we didn’t quiteknow how long it would take to drive out.”
“Well, you’re here now and I’m going to ask Peggy to see that you meeteverybody. I’ll have to be darting here and there and everywhere to seethat they all have something to do.”
Carolyn looked so pretty, Betty thought, and she wore the simplest ofsummer dresses, to all appearances, though the material was fine andsheer, a sort of chiffon, Betty thought; for Betty was just becomingaware of styles and materials, matters which she had left to her mother,and most wisely.
There was the usual tendency of the girls and boys to separate intogroups of boys and groups of girls, but Carolyn had announced that firstthey would stroll to see the flowers and go to the pool and thegreenhouse and that each boy must join some girls, not necessarily _one_girl. In consequence the groups were mixed by the time Betty and herfriends began their stroll around the grounds and Peggy took Betty intothe midst of one. Dotty Bradshaw accompanied them, though Selma had beendrawn away by one of her special friends. Dotty was “cute,” Peggy said.
Here were Mary Emma Howland and Mary Jane Andrews, the two Marys ofBetty’s algebra class. Then Chet Dorrance, whom Betty afterward found tobe Ted’s brother, was feeding the goldfishes in the lovely pool from abox of something held by Kathryn Allen. Budd LeRoy perched on the stonearm of a seat that curved artistically in grey lines, back a little fromthe pool, and talked spasmodically to Chauncey Allen, Kathryn’s brother,and Brad Warren. Budd, Chauncey and Bradford were not freshmen, Bettythought, but she wasn’t sure. Who _could_ be sure about all the freshmenthere were? Chet Dorrance looked a good deal like his brother, thoughhis hair was lighter and Betty decided that he didn’t look quite sosmart, but not many of the boys could touch Ted for looks.
The boys all wore coats, though she knew that some of them, at least,would have felt more comfortable without them, as she had seen themFriday at school. Later on, however, when games and sports began, many acoat was to be found hung on the back of a garden bench or over theslats of a trellis. Carolyn may have given the word. Betty did not know.She usually kept her eye out for what boys did, on account of Dick,whose social etiquette she helped superintend, little as she knewherself. Between three and four o’clock it was very warm indeed. Laterit began to cool off and seem like early October.
“Isn’t this the loveliest place?” she said to Chauncey Allen, by way ofmaking conversation. After introducing Chauncey to Betty, Peggy haddarted off to start Budd and Bradford in tennis, about which they hadinquired. Chet Dorrance and Kathryn Allen had finished feeding thegoldfish and sauntered to the big stone seat, where Chauncey suggestedthat he and Betty also sit. Kathryn was a pretty, slight little girlwith an olive complexion, very black hair and dark eyes. Chauncey was asdark in his coloring but was of a much larger build.
“Pretty nice,” replied Chauncey. “They’ve got fine gardens and a goodtennis court, that much is certain; but their house is pretty old.”
“But it looks so–distinguished,” said Betty. “Those big pillars and thewide porch and the drive with that sort of porch built over it–I nevercan remember the name for it.”
“You can’t prove it by me,” grinned Chauncey. “I don’t know either,although we have one. Yes, the Gwynne place is considered a fine oldestate, so my dad says. Mother says she woul
dn’t have it for it isn’tmodern enough to suit her. She doesn’t like high ceilings and greatrooms that are hard to heat in winter.”
“Oh, I _love_ them,” cried Betty, “though maybe it’s because I neverhave to bother about furnaces and things like that. I’d just love tohave a great house and big grounds like this.”
“Where do you live?” asked Chauncey.
“In an apartment. My father’s just come to the city this fall and wetook the best place Mother could find. We still have a home in my hometown, but I don’t suppose we’ll ever go back there to stay.”
“Would you like to?”
Betty shook her head negatively. “I’m thrilled to death to be in our bighigh school!”
Chauncey grinned pleasantly. “It is pretty good,” he acknowledged, “butI hate to study sometimes. I hope football will go all right for ourteam this year. There’s one of the big high schools that is our greatestrival, and O, boy–if we don’t beat them this year!”
Betty had not heard about that, but she loyally echoed Chauncey’s wish.
“How about going up to the house for that fruitade Carolyn said would beready pretty soon?” asked Chauncey, including the group, for two othergirls had come up to the pool and were now joining Kathryn and Chet.
The suggestion was promptly acted upon and Betty now found herselfwalking between tall pampas grass and well trimmed bushes of all sortsalong a path to the house and talking to Chet Dorrance, who asked her ifshe had bought her season ticket for football yet.
“No, I haven’t. Are you selling them?”
“No, but Ted is.”
“I’m awfully sorry, but Carolyn told me that if I hadn’t promised, oneof the girls wanted to sell me one, so I promised.”
“Oh, that’s all right. It was probably one of the girls on a pep squad.”
“What’s a pep squad?” laughed Betty. “That must be one of the thingsthat I haven’t heard about yet.”
“You’ll hear a lot about it, then. Why, they have them in the G. A. A.,girls that talk it all up and make ‘enthusiasm’ and support theathletics, you know.”
“What is the G. A. A., please? I must be terribly dense, but rememberall the things I’ve tried to take in. You’re not a freshman, are you?”
“Why, no–what makes you think that?” Chet was privately thinking thatthere must be something after all in experience, though as he was nolarger than a very dear freshman friend, who had been left a littlebehind in the race for high school, he had been “insulted” more thanonce by being considered a freshman.
“Well, I did think that you were one, since your brother is ajunior”–Betty had almost said that he looked so much younger than Tedthe tall, but she halted in time. “But you seem to know all abouteverything, and even the freshies who live here don’t always remembereverything.”
“I could get all that from hearing Ted talk, you know; but of course,there isn’t much about the school that I haven’t _heard_ about–Iwouldn’t say _know_, of course.”
“It must be nice,” said Betty, thereupon pleasing her escort, whoimmediately began to enlighten her upon the workings of the athleticassociation and the girls’ share in it. The G. A. A. was the Girls’Athletic Association.
“Oh, yes! Of course. I hear them call it a _club_. I’ve even had itexplained to me–but not the pep squads. I only wish I had time foreverything!”
“You don’t have to do everything your freshman year, Betty.”
“That is what Father said–so I’m not. But that doesn’t keep you fromwanting to do things.”
“You’re right it doesn’t!” Chet was thinking of several things that hehad wanted to do and still wanted.
A great glass bowl just inside the screened porch on the side of thehouse away from the sun, supplied a cool drink of oranges and lemons,whose slices floated about pieces of ice. A maid in cap and apron servedthem and fished out a whole red cherry to put in Betty’s glass. Anddidn’t it taste good!
Then, in the shifting of position and accidental meetings of this oneand that one, Betty found herself with Mary Emma Howland and anotherfreshman boy whom she recognized as the brightest lad in the algebraclass. “Oh, yes,” she said, in answer to Mary Emma’s question whether ornot she knew “Sim,” and brightly she smiled at him.
“We never were introduced,” said Betty, “but when you recite every daytogether you can’t help but know people, and whenever Mr. Matthews callson ‘James Simmonds’ he looks as if he expected to have a recitation.”
“There, Sim!” laughed Mary Emma. “I told you you were the teacher’spet!”
“Much I am!” and James Simmonds looked as if he did not appreciate beingcomplimented, even by two merry girls. He was a tall, thin boy, withlight, sandy hair, thin face and light eyes, but eyes that were keenwith intelligence when they did not twinkle with mischief. “And I’musually called ‘Simmonds’ by the men teachers.”
“So you are,” acknowledged Betty. “But I didn’t know they called you‘Sim’–I thought it was ‘Jim.’”
“I’m generally known as Sim,” said the boy, “but sometimes it’s ‘Jim’,or ‘Carrotts.’”
Sim exchanged a look with Mary Emma, who giggled. “Sim’s my fourth orfifth cousin,” Mary Emma explained. “He lives at our house to go toschool while his father and mother are away this year.”
As Betty looked inquiringly at Sim, he explained that his father was anengineer and was in South America with his mother for the year. “I’mgoing there some day,” said he. “Say, they have mosquitoes and snakesand all sorts of queer things, and there are some man?eaters down there,cannibals, you know–oh, it’s a wild country all right!”
“That doesn’t sound so very good to me,” smiled Betty. “Do you reallywant to go where there are snakes and things like that!”
“Certainly! Mary Emma you bring Betty Lee out some time and I’ll showher the things they’ve sent us.”
“We really have some beautiful things from South America, Betty,” saidMary Emma, and Betty was thinking how interesting it would be to seethem. My, she was getting acquainted fast! But just as Mary Emma wasbeginning to tell her about a handsome purse that had come for hermother, Peggy came running out of the house door and stopped before theporch bench upon which the three were seated. Peggy was wearingsomething funny on her head and carried something, a straight piece ofpasteboard, in her hand. Large black letters said something or other.
“Oh, here you are, Betty. I was looking for you. Carolyn wants you to beone of the social engineers. We’re going to have games for everybody onthe lawn now and you’ll have to help. Come on! ’Scuse Betty, please,Mary Emma–and Sim.”
Betty rose to follow Peggy inside. There were several girls, alladjusting these pasteboard caps or hats, that looked like shortstove?pipes. Carolyn was apologizing, though Betty thought the ideaclever. “I didn’t have time, girls, to make caps, anything pretty, youknow, and I went to a picnic where they had these. They looked cute andI thought they’d do.”
“Of course they’ll do,” said Peggy, adjusting the cap to Betty’s head,merely by wrapping the two ends about and fastening them, top andbottom, with ordinary clips. So that was what the big black letters onthe plain gray pasteboard said, “SOCIAL ENGINEER.”
“But Carolyn,” protested Betty, “I don’t know everybody and how can I bea ‘social engineer’? I suppose you’re going to have games to manage?”
“That’s it, and it doesn’t make a bit of difference whether you knowpeople or not. Your head?gear makes it perfectly proper to speak toanybody. I’m sure you’re good at things like this–from your looks, youknow!”
“Thanks for the confidence,” laughed Betty. “All right, I’ll do the bestI can.”
For the next hour the lawn looked pretty with the groups that played theold?fashioned games as well as those of a later date. Here were flowersand shrubbery, light dresses, darting figures, much laughter and littleshrieks in the midst of excitement, when some one was caught or some onebecame
“It.” Then tables were brought out upon the lawn. Carolyn andPeggy pressed several of the boys into service to help place them, butafter they were set, with silver, napkins and flowers, a pretty vase inthe center of each table, the “banquet,” as Betty later reported athome, was served them as perfectly “as if they were grown up” by personswhom Betty supposed to be the servants of the house. Mercy, she wouldnever dare invite Carolyn to their apartment! And she did _love_Carolyn!
Not that Betty was ashamed of simple living–Betty was trying to thinkwhy she had such a thought about Carolyn–but that could be puzzled outlater on. The present was too pleasant for a single disturbing thought.It was cool now and seemed more like the time of year it really was.Sunset hues were showing. And they were to stay till the Japaneselanterns all about were lit, with some hiding game or treasure hunt thatCarolyn had mentioned to the “social engineers” as their last effort andfun. And now, after the pretty ice?cream in the freshman colors and thedelicious cake with the double frosting, lovely baskets of grapes andpeaches were being passed.
Betty slowly ate the juicy grapes of her bunch, one by one, as shetalked to Peggy on one side of her, or Chet Dorrance on the other. Oneof the junior boys had been “fired,” according to Chet, for “cuttingclasses, disorderly conduct and disrespectful behaviour.” Oh, no, hecouldn’t come back now. His parents had been over to see the principaland they might get the “kid” into some other school–Chet did not know.And Betty was to watch Freddy Fisher carry the ball at the firstfootball game in the stadium. “If you go with Carolyn and Peggy,” saidhe, “they’ll tell you who everybody is that’s doing things. You’ve seen’em all, though, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure I’ll know them on the field. I guess I am goingwith Carolyn and Peggy.”
“Of course you are,” decidedly remarked Peggy, who had turned from herother neighbor in time to hear Betty’s last sentence. “What is it you’regoing to?”