CHAPTER V
A MINUET
"Mamma," said Ethelyn, the next morning at breakfast, "I'm going to take aholiday from lessons to-day, because Patricia has just come, and shedoesn't want to begin to study right away."
"Indeed, miss, you'll do nothing of the sort," replied her mother; "you hada holiday yesterday because Patricia was coming; and one the day before, onaccount of Mabel Miller's tea; and you had holiday all last week because ofthe Fancy Bazaar. When do you expect to learn anything?"
"Well, I don't care," said Ethelyn, tossing her head, "I'm going to staywith Patricia to-day, anyhow; if she goes to the schoolroom, I will, and ifshe don't, I won't."
"Oh, I'll go to school with you, Ethelyn," said Patty, anxious to pleaseboth her aunt and cousin if possible.
But Mrs. St. Clair said, "No, indeed, Patricia, you don't want to beginlessons yet. Why, you're scarcely rested from your journey. I am going toNew York to-day to buy you some new dresses, and if you're not too tired,you may go with me and help select them."
"Well, I just guess Patricia won't go to New York, unless I go too," criedEthelyn in great excitement. "Do you think I'll stay at home and grub inthe schoolroom while she's having a good time in the city? Not much, myMary Anne!"
"Ethelyn!" said her mother, reprovingly, "how many times must I tell younot to use slang? It is vulgar and unladylike, and quite out of keepingwith your social position."
"I don't care; it's expressive if it isn't stylish."
"Don't say stylish, either. That isn't genteel at all. Say 'correct.'"
"Oh, 'correct.' Well, mother, I guess it must be correct to use slang,'cause Gladys Mahoney does, and she's a hummer on style."
"And I've no doubt her mother reproves her for it, just as I do you. Now goto the schoolroom, it is nearly ten o'clock."
"I won't go unless Patricia comes too. If she's going to New York with you,I'm going."
"Ethelyn," said Mrs. St. Clair, sternly, "do as I bid you. Go to theschoolroom at once, and study your lessons diligently."
"No, I won't," replied Ethelyn, stubbornly, "I won't stir a step unlessPatty comes too."
"But I'm going to take Patricia to New York."
"Then I'm going to New York," said Ethelyn, with an air of settling thequestion, and then she began drumming on the table with her fingers.
"I want to go to New York with you, mamma," said Florelle; "I want to buy anew dolly."
"No, baby," said her mother, "you can't go this time. You stay at home likea good girlie, and I'll bring you a beautiful new doll."
"But I _want_ to go! I _will_ go!" and Florelle began to cry.
"Stop that crying," said her father, "stop it at once, and when I come homeI'll bring you a big box of candy."
"No, I don't want candy,--I want to go to New York,--I want to go--Ido-o-o," she wound up with a prolonged wail.
"Good gracious, Florelle," said Reginald, "do stop that fearful yowling. Ifyou don't, as soon as I go down town I'll send a bear back here to eat youup."
At this Florelle screamed louder than ever, and had to be taken away fromthe table.
Patty felt quite helpless in the midst of this commotion. She had beenaccustomed to obey willingly her father's lightest wish, and Ethelyn'simpertinence amazed her. As for little Florelle, she thought the child wasquite old enough to be reasoned with, and taught not to cry so violentlyover every trifle.
But she realized it was not her place to criticise her cousins' behavior,so she did the best she could to pour oil on the troubled waters.
"Aunt Isabel," she said, "if you don't mind, I'll stay at home and studywith Ethelyn."
"Well, do as you like, child," said her aunt, carelessly; "of course I canselect your clothes just as well without you, and I'll take you both to NewYork some Saturday. But you needn't study unless you choose, you know."
"Well, I'll stay with Ethelyn, anyway," said Patty, tucking her arm throughher cousin's as they went off to the schoolroom.
"What a mean old thing you are," said Ethelyn crossly. "You might just aswell have said you'd go to New York, and then I would have gone too, and wecould have had a lovely time shopping, and lunching at Delmonico's, andperhaps going to a matinee."
"But your mother said you couldn't go," said Patty, in surprise.
"Oh, that's nothing. I would have gone all the same, and now you've spoiledit all and we've got to drudge over our books. Here's the schoolroom. MissMorton, this is my cousin, Patricia Fairfield. She is to begin lessonsto-day."
While Ethelyn was talking, the girls had mounted to the third floor of thegreat house, and entered the large and attractive-looking schoolroom.
Miss Morton was a sweet-faced young woman, who greeted Ethelyn pleasantlyand then turned cordially to the stranger.
"We are glad to have you with us," she said; "you may sit here at thisdesk, and presently I will ask you some questions about your studies."
Reginald was already in his place and was studying away for dear life. Hewas naturally a studious boy, and he was anxious to prepare himself toenter a certain school the next year.
But Ethelyn had no taste for study, and she flounced herself into her chairand unwillingly took up her books.
"Now, Ethelyn," said Miss Morton, "you must learn that history lessonto-day. You've dawdled over it so long, that it has become a real bug bearto you. But I'm sure if you determine to conquer it, you can easily do so.Just try it."
"Ho," called out Reginald, teasingly, "can't learn a history lesson! Icouldn't wait for you, so I went on ahead. I'm 'way over to the 'Foundingof the German Empire.' Where are you in history, Patricia?"
"I've only studied United States History," she replied, a little ashamed ofher small attainments, "but I've been through that twice."
"Well," said Miss Morton, kindly, "it's better to know one thing thoroughlythan to have smatterings of a great many. If you are familiar with UnitedStates History, you will enjoy lessons in the history of other countriesfor a change."
"I'm sure I shall," said Patty, "and my father told me to study whateveryou thought best for me. But I don't like to study very much. I'd ratherread story books."
Miss Morton examined Patty in arithmetic, geography, and some otherbranches, and decided that as her attainments in knowledge were about equalto those of her cousins, they might all have the same lessons each day.
Patty afterwards discovered that Reginald learned these lessons, andEthelyn did not. But she simply skipped them and went on to the next,apparently making the same progress as her brother.
Patty had become absorbed in her history lesson, which was veryinteresting, when Ethelyn began to chatter.
"Miss Morton," she said, "we are going to have a party for my cousin."
"Are you? That will be very nice, but don't let us discuss it now, for Iwant you to put your whole attention on that history lesson."
"I will,--but, Miss Morton, it's going to be a very grand party. Everybodyin Elmbridge will be invited. I mean," she added, tossing her head,"everybody that _is_ anybody."
"Everybody is somebody," said Reginald, without looking up from his book,"and I wish you'd keep still, Ethelyn."
"Well, you know what I mean; everybody that's rich and important, and fitfor us to know."
"Why," said Patty, looking at her cousin in surprise, "aren't people fitfor you to know unless they're rich?"
"No," said Ethelyn, "I wouldn't associate with people unless they wererich, and neither would you, Patricia."
"Yes, I would," said Patty, stoutly, "if they were good and wise andrefined, and they often are."
"Well, you can't associate with them while you're living with us, anyhow;we only go with the swells."
"Ethelyn," said Miss Morton, gently, "that isn't the right way to talk. Ithink--"
"Oh, never mind what you think," said Ethelyn, rudely, "you know the lasttime you preached to me, I nearly made mamma discharge you, and I'll do itfor sure if you try it again."
Miss Morton bit her lip an
d said nothing, for she was a poor girl and hadno wish to lose her lucrative position in the St. Clair household, thoughher ideas were widely at variance with those of her employers. But Patty'ssense of justice was roused.
"Oh, Ethelyn," she said, "how can you speak to your teacher so? You oughtto be ashamed of yourself."
"Oh, Miss Morton don't mind, do you?" said Ethelyn, who was really onlycareless, and had no wish to be unkind, "and it's true. I will have hersent away if she preaches at us, 'cause I hate it; but she won't preach anymore, will you, Morty?" and Ethelyn smiled at her governess in awheedlesome way.
"Go on with your lessons," said Miss Morton, in a quiet tone, though shewas with difficulty repressing a desire to tell her pupil what she thoughtof her.
"Yes, do," growled Reginald; "how can a fellow study when you're chatteringaway with your shrill voice?"
"I haven't got a shrill voice," retorted Ethelyn, "have I, Patricia? Mammasays a soft, low voice is very stylish,--correct, I mean, and I'm sure mineis low and soft."
Ethelyn said this in such an affected whisper that Patty had to smile.
But Reginald said:
"Pooh, of course you have when you put on airs like that, but naturallyyour voice is a cross between a locomotive whistle and scratching on aslate."
"It isn't!"
"It is!"
"Well, yours isn't a bit better, anyway."
"I didn't say it was, did I?"
"I didn't say you did say so, did I?"
"I didn't say you said I said so, did I?"
"I didn't say you said, I said--you said,--"
"Children, stop quarreling," said Miss Morton, half laughing at the angrycombatants whose flushed faces showed signs of coming tears.
But Patty laughed outright. "What sillies you are," she said, "to squabbleso over nothing."
When school was over, it was time for luncheon, and after that Ethelyn toldPatty that it was the afternoon for dancing-class and they were all to go.
"You must wear your blue crape, Patricia," she said, "and make yourselflook as pretty as you can, and put on all your jewelry."
"But I haven't any jewelry," said Patty; "papa says little girls oughtn'tto wear any."
"No jewelry? Why, how funny. I have loads of it. Well, no matter, I'll lendyou some of mine; or we'll crib some out of mamma's jewel-case; I knowwhere she hides the key."
"Thank you, Ethelyn, but I wouldn't wear borrowed ornaments, and I don'twant to wear jewelry anyway. I'm not old enough."
"Oh, you are too! what silly, old-fashioned notions you have. And besides,while you're with us, mamma said you must do whatever we want you to."
So Patty reluctantly allowed Ethelyn to clasp a necklace round her throat,and slip several jingling bangles on her wrists.
"There!" said Ethelyn, adding an emerald brooch, which she had selectedfrom her mother's collection, "now you don't look like a pauper anyhow."
"But I don't feel comfortable, Ethelyn, and besides, suppose I should losethese things."
"Oh, you won't lose them; and if you should, I don't believe mamma wouldscold much. She'd like it better than if I let you go looking like anobody, and have the Mahoneys think our cousin was poor."
Ethelyn herself was resplendent in red silk trimmed with spangled lace. Shewore shining slippers with high French heels, and all the jewelry she couldcram on to her small person.
Florelle looked like a fairy in a short little white frock, all fine muslinand lace, with ruffles and frills that stood out in every direction. Theoverdressed little midget was delighted with her appearance, and prancedaround in front of the mirror admiring herself. Reginald too, consideredhimself very fine in his black velvet suit, with a great white collar andimmense white silk tie.
Miss Morton accompanied the children, and the St. Clair carriage carriedthem away to the dancing class. When they arrived, all was bustle andexcitement. About forty gaily dressed children were assembled in a largehall, prettily decorated with flags and flowers.
Patty was fond of dancing, and danced very gracefully in her slow, Southernway, but she was utterly unfamiliar with the mincing steps and elaboratecontortions attempted by the Elmbridge young people. However, she enjoyedit all from its very novelty, and she was pleasantly impressed with some ofthe boys and girls to whom she was introduced.
But she was amazed and almost angry at the way her cousin talked about her.
"Mabel," said Ethelyn, as she presented Patty to Mabel Miller, "this is mycousin, Patricia Fairfield. She is from Richmond, Virginia, and is visitingus for the winter. Her father is a millionaire, and he has lots of greatplantations of,--of magnolias."
"Oh, no, Ethelyn," began Patty.
"Well, sweet potatoes, then, or something," went on Ethelyn, nudging hercousin to keep still. "You must excuse her dress, she couldn't get anythingvery nice in Virginia so mamma has gone to New York to-day to buy her somedecent clothes."
Patty raged inwardly at this slighting and unjust remark about her nativestate, but she was a truly polite little girl and said nothing unkind inreply.
"Do you like to dance?" said Mabel Miller to Patty later, as they tookplaces in a quadrille just forming.
"Yes," said Patty, "and I know these quadrilles, but I never saw fancydances like those you have here."
"Oh, they're the latest thing," replied Mabel. "Professor Dodson comes fromNew York, and he teaches us the newest and swellest steps."
As that day was the last of the quarter the professor had arranged a littleexhibition of his best pupils, and a good-sized audience was gathered inthe galleries above the dancing floor to witness it.
But it was a surprise to all present when he announced that a friend whosename he was not privileged to mention, had offered a prize to the child whoshould dance most gracefully, either alone or with a partner.
"You can't get it, Ethelyn," said Reginald, "for you're as awkward as alame elephant."
"I am not," snapped Ethelyn, "and you'd better not try for it, 'cause you'donly make a spectacle of yourself."
"So would you," retorted Reginald, "and then we'd be a pair of spectacles."
Ethelyn said no more, for the dances were beginning.
Some of the pupils danced very prettily, others affectedly, and otherscleverly, but the dances were of a kicking, romping nature that requiredmuch practice and skill to perform gracefully.
After all had taken part, Professor Dodson turned politely to Patty, andinvited her, if she would, to dance also.
"Oh, I couldn't, thank you," she answered "I don't know any of theseflings. I only know an old-fashioned minuet."
"Try that," urged Ethelyn, who delighted to have her cousin madeconspicuous, as that attracted attention towards herself.
The professor insisted upon it, so Patty obligingly consented, and saying,"I couldn't dance with these things jingling," she gave Ethelyn the heavynecklace and bangles.
Then she stepped out on the floor, and as the orchestra played the slow,stately music of the minuet, Patty bowed and swayed like a veritableold-time maiden. Graceful as a reed, she took the pretty steps, smiling andcurtseying, her fair little face calm and unflushed.
It was such a pretty dance and such a contrast to the acrobatic,out-of-breath performances of the other dancers, that, without a dissentingvoice, the committee of judges awarded the prize to Miss PatriciaFairfield.
Patty was delighted, for she had no idea that her dancing was speciallymeritorious and she accepted the gold medal with a few words of realgratitude, thinking the while how pleased her father would be, when sheshould write him all about it. On the way home she said to Ethelyn:
"But it doesn't seem right for me to have this prize, as I'm not a memberof the dancing class."
"Oh bother," said Ethelyn, "that doesn't matter; they're always giving outprizes, and I'm awfully glad you got this one. People will think you'resomething wonderful. And I'm sure they'd have given it to Belle Crandon ifyou hadn't danced, and mamma will be tickled to death to think you got itahead
of her."