Betty's Happy Year

“I go?” she said. “For three whole days! Oh! what a party!”

“Yes, it’s going to be lovely,” said Dorothy. “A May party on Friday, and lots of picnics and things on the other days. Will you go with us, Martha?”

“Indeed, I will! I’m sure Mother’ll let me. But, girls, I don’t know if my clothes are good enough for such a grand place.”

“Oh, pshaw!” said Betty. “Don’t think about that. Just come on and have a good time, and never mind what you wear.”

Mrs. Taylor was delighted to have Martha go with the other girls, and at once set about furbishing up her wardrobe as best she could.

And, indeed, when at last the day came to start, Martha, in her trim, neat traveling-suit, looked almost as well dressed as the other two. They were to travel in charge of Mr. Halstead, Dorothy’s uncle, who was returning to his country home after a short business trip to Boston.

He was a genial, affable sort of man, but after a little kindly conversation he left the girls to entertain themselves, and became absorbed in his paper.

Martha was as happy as a bird. The prospect of the good time coming seemed to transform her, and she was so gay and merry that Dorothy concluded she had misjudged her, and that Betty was right about her.

When they at last reached Halstead House, Irene was on the veranda to greet them.

She kissed her cousin Dorothy and greeted her warmly, and then welcomed the other two as Dorothy introduced them.

Neither Betty nor Martha had ever met Irene before, but Mrs. Halstead had written for Dorothy to bring two friends with her, and so the girls were at once made welcome.

Two other girls were visiting Irene, so the house-party numbered six young people, and a gay flock they were. Maude Miller and Ethel Caswell were from New York, and proved to be pleasant and kindly, so Martha was not shy or embarrassed, and soon the half-dozen were chatting away like old friends.

Halstead House was a large colonial mansion with innumerable rooms and wide porches and gardens.

Irene was the eldest child, and there were also a small boy and a baby girl of three. The little Daisy reminded Betty of Baby Polly, and she made friends with her at once.

Friday was Irene’s birthday, and in honor of it there was to be a May party, with a May-queen, May-pole, and all the traditional features. Of course this was the principal event of their visit, but the six girls managed to have a lot of fun besides. There was a lake on which to row, a pony-cart to drive, tennis-courts, croquet-grounds, and everything that could make country life pleasant.

On Thursday afternoon the girls decided to walk down to the village.

It was a pleasant walk along shady roads, and in a short time they found themselves in the tiny hamlet, with its little post-office and two or three small shops.

Martha had been in especially gay spirits all the way. She had laughed and joked until Dorothy began to feel she had reason to be proud of her merry friend instead of ashamed of her.

But Betty looked at Martha curiously. She couldn’t quite understand her to-day. Several times Martha had started to say something to Betty, and then stopped, as if afraid the others would hear.

“What is it, Martha?” asked Betty, at last, dropping a little behind the others. “What are you trying to say?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Martha, turning red and looking embarrassed. Then, as if with a sudden determined effort, she turned to the whole group and said:

“Will you – won’t you – all come in and have ice-cream with me?”

It was a pleasant invitation, but Martha stammered so and seemed so nervous about it that Irene hesitated before replying. Betty hesitated, too, for she knew that Martha had little, if any, spending-money, and she wondered at this unexpected hospitality.

But Martha turned pleading eyes upon her.

“Make them come, Betty!” she said. “I’d be so glad if they would.”

“Come on, girls,” said Betty. “Indeed, Martha, we’re very glad to accept your invitation; it’s so warm and dusty.”

Dorothy, though mystified at Martha’s sudden rôle of Lady Bountiful, took her cue from Betty and said:

“Oh, how lovely! I’m just famishing for ice-cream.”

The others accepted gracefully, too, and they all went into the latticed inclosure where ice-cream was sold. There were many little tables and chairs, and pushing two tables together, the girls all sat round, and Martha asked each one to choose her favorite flavor.

Martha looked very happy and a little excited; her cheeks were red and her eyes bright, and Betty thought she had never seen her look so pretty.

“Aren’t we having a good time?” said Ethel Caswell, as they slowly ate the refreshing dainty.

“Yes, indeed,” said Maude Miller. “It’s my turn to treat next. Let’s come down here again to-morrow morning, and I’ll buy the ice-cream.”

“All right,” agreed the others, and Betty and Dorothy secretly resolved to find some pleasant way to do their share of the “treating.” Martha beamed with pleasure to think she had been the one to start a round of merry times, and, as an additional touch to their present feast, she ordered some small cakes. Betty and Dorothy looked frankly astonished, for it was an expensive little place, and they wondered if Martha knew how much her “spread” would cost.

But Martha smiled so gaily that they couldn’t offer any remonstrance, and the pretty cakes were brought and enjoyed by all.

When at last the little feast was over, the check was brought and handed to Martha. Betty didn’t see the amount, but she saw that again Martha turned scarlet and looked embarrassed. But, with an air of endeavoring to look unconcerned, she drew a crisp, new five-dollar bill from her purse, and then, receiving her change, she put it away with the same elaborate carelessness, not stopping to separate the notes from the silver.

“Whatever is the matter with Martha?” thought Betty. “She’s trying to act a part, I think.”

Back walked the merry half-dozen girls to beautiful Halstead House, and grouped themselves on the veranda to wait for dinner-time.

“Let’s build air-castles,” said Irene. “What would yours be, Betty?”

“Do you mean that could be real, or couldn’t?”

“Yes, that could be real, but aren’t likely to be, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” said Betty, promptly. “Well, I’d be a princess, with golden hair all twined with pearls; and a long white satin train, with little page-boys holding it; and slaves fanning me with long peacock-feather fans.”

“My, how fine!” said Dorothy, “but it’s too story-booky for me. My air-castle is just to travel all over the world – not by any magic, but just travel in real cars and boats, and see all the countries there are.”

“I think that’s a nice air-castle,” commented Irene. “What’s yours, Ethel?”

“Oh, I’d like to be famous; a great celebrity, you know. I don’t care whether it’s in the musical or artistic or literary line. But I’d like to feel, and to have other people feel, that I’d done something grand.”

“I don’t believe you ever will,” said Maude, laughing. “Now, my air-castle is awfully prosaic. I’d like to be a nurse.”

“Oh, what a funny air-castle!” exclaimed Martha. “How can you like to be mixed up with sickness and medicines and such things?”

“That’s just what I should like. And then to feel that I was helping to make people well! Oh, I think that’s fine!”

“Yes, I s’pose it is,” said Martha. “Mine isn’t so noble; I’d just like to be at the head of a big house – about like this – and have a lot of money. Not a great fortune, but just enough to entertain my friends and give them good times – just as Mrs. Halstead does.”

“That’s very pretty, my dear,” said Mrs. Halstead herself, who had just stepped out on the veranda to summon the young people to dinner. And again Martha became embarrassed and blushed rosy red, as Mrs. Halstead smiled at her kindly.

The next day was fair and beautiful, a perfect day for a May party.