CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE MASQUERADE

"Aunt Jane's poll parrot, what a mob!"

The four girls, each in a domino exactly like the others, stood at the door of the Greys' immense drawing-room. and surveyed the scene before them. It was, of course, Sally who spoke.

Phyllis laughed softly. "If you go about saying that, Sally, it won't be hard to know who you are," she warned.

"You'll have to forget Aunt Jane and her poll parrot for to-night," a voice soft and tinkling drawled.

This time Janet laughed. "How about your drawl, Taffy?" she inquired.

"Oh, dear, this will never do," Phyllis protested. "We will all have to keep as quiet as possible and only answer 'yes' and 'no.'"

Sally's blue eyes opened wide behind her mask of black satin.

"Oh, but that won't be any fun at all! " she cried.

"We might mumble everything we want to say," suggested Janet; "and if we all do it, it will be more confusing than ever."

"Good idea, 'How do you do this evening; isn't the room beautiful?" Daphne mumbled in a monotone.

"Oh, Taffy," Janet laughed, "even your very best friend wouldn't know you."

"Well, then let's go in and pay our respects to Muriel; she and her mother are over there by the other door," Sally suggested, and led the way.

The room through which they walked was indeed beautiful. Ivory white woodwork made a fitting frame for the pale gold brocade that hung on the walls. Ferns and great bowls of roses filled every corner, and the perfume of the flowers scented the warm air of the room. Two crystal chandeliers blazed in all the glory of their rainbow colors and reflected their brilliance in the polished floor.

Groups of girls and boys chattered and laughed and tried to guess the identity of each other. Every hero and heroine in history was represented, and they nodded and bowed to dainty Mother Goose folk.

The simplicity of the four dominoes made a strange spot of color as they walked together towards their hostesses. They were all about the same height and build, they marched in step, and their bells jingled in unison.

"How do you do," they mumbled as they shook hands.

Muriel Grey, dressed, as Miss Pringle had suggested, in the dainty pinks and blues of a Dresden shepherdess, stood beside her mother. She was not masked as her guests were, and her puzzled surprise was plain to be seen.

"Why, who can you be?" she exclaimed. "I have guessed every girl and boy so far, but I haven't the slightest idea who you are. Please say something," she begged.

"You look very pretty to-night." 

"What a lot of people there are." 

"We are all so glad to be here."

"Think hard and you will surely guess."

All four answers were mumbled at once and poor Muriel was more confused than ever.

"I think your costumes are delightful and it is great fun to have four unknown guests," Mrs. Grey said. "I shall be watching you all anxiously when the gong rings to unmask. Don't run away like Cinderella when you hear it, will you? " she added, smiling.

"No, indeed," a mumble assured her. "We will all come and say 'how do you do' to you then in our own voices."

Another group, this time of boys, came up, and the four hurried away.

It was not long before the guests had all assembled and the music began.

"Let's go over there and watch," Phyllis suggested, pointing to a bench under a palm in the corner. "Then we can see whom we know."
"There's John Steers, dressed as a donkey," -- Sally pointed to a tall, ungainly boy, who presented a droll aspect as he leaned up against the wall beside the musicians' platform. His thin body accentuated by the large donkey's bead gave him a top-heavy expression, and the forefeet that covered his long arms hung dejectedly at his sides.

"He doesn't look as though he were having a very good time," Janet laughed. "Why doesn't he go and talk to some one?"

"Not John; he perfectly hates and despises parties, but his mother makes him go to them, and he always stands over by the musicians and mopes just as he is doing now," Phyllis explained.

"There are Eleanor and Rosamond over there talking to the two boys in armor," -- Daphne pointed.

"Of course, I'd have known them even if old Pringle had not told us their costumes, " -- Sally chuckled. "Oh, do look at that boy dressed as Robin Hood; he is bow legged," -- she went off into convulsions of laughter, and as the others looked at the very fat and uncomfortable lad across the room they joined her. They had hardly time to compose their features before three boys came up to them and bowed.

One, the tallest of the lot, wore a monk's garb of rough brown and the big hood completely covered his head; his face was hidden by a ghostly white mask. The one next to him was dressed exactly like the Mother Goose pictures of Little Jack Horner and he carried a paper pie under one arm. The last of the trio was the most amusing; his face was blacked and a wig of kinky black hair stood out in dozens of tiny braids, each tied with a different colored string. He wore a red and white calico dress that was just short enough to show his big, clumsy boots. He made a very deep bow before Sally and said in a high shrill voice.

"May I have this dance, please, ma'am?"

"With pleasure, " -- Sally for a wonder did not forget to mumble. She did not have the slightest idea who her partner was, but then that is the fun of a masquerade.

"And will you dance with me? " the monk asked in a very solemn tone, bowing to Janet.

Janet got up and then sat down again very suddenly; there was an awkward pause, and then she managed to say:

"But I don't know how to dance. " Gone was the mumble, gone was every thought except the misery of the minute.

But the monk, instead of being disappointed, gave a mighty sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness for that," he said heartily. "I hate to dance, myself, so let's go and see if we can't find some lemonade. This hood is so hot I need something to cool me off."

Janet did not wait to be coaxed. She took the arm he offered her, and they soon disappeared into the crowd.

Little Jack Horner shifted from one foot to the other in his embarrassment at finding himself between two girls. At last he said, 

"I want to dance with one of you but blest if I can tell which, you are as alike as two peas. I wish you would stop that mumbling and let me hear your voices. I bet I know you both."

Phyllis and Daphne looked at each other and laughed. Jack Horner had forgotten, in his eagerness to find out who they were, to disguise his own voice and they both recognized him.

"No, Jerry Dodd, we won't stop mumbling; you'll just have to choose as best you can," Daphne said. 

Jerry looked at her curiously; there was something familiar in that tinkly laugh.

"Then I'll choose you," he said promptly. "You know me, so I must know you, and before we have danced half way round the room I bet I tell you your name."

"Bet you can't," Daphne teased as she got up.

Phyllis watched them whirl away and smiled to herself. Daphne was a beautiful dancer, and if Terry had even a grain of sense he would recognize her light step, for he had danced with her many times at dancing school. She watched them circle the room once and waited for them to pass her again. As they neared her she expected to hear Daphne's familiar drawl, but instead she heard Jerry's familiar voice say,

"Ah, go on, give a fellow a chance."

The rest of the sentence was lost for a voice close beside her asked,

"Did you find the lemonade?"

She turned quickly to see a knight in shining armor. A golden wig fell to his shoulders, and a blazing cross covered the front of his tunic. He wore a small black mask that did not hide his smiling mouth. He carried a great sword with both hands.

"No, Sir Galahad, I didn't," Phyllis answered.

"Where's your monk, Friar Tuck; I thought he was with you?" Sir Galahad inquired.

"Did you?" Phyllis asked sweetly. She was not mumbling, but her voice was not at all natural and she had no fear of the knight's recognizing her for she felt quite sure she did not know him.

"But I don't understand. When I last saw you, Howard was going to take you into the library and teach you to dance and John was going with you." Sir Galahad was perplexed.

"Yet here I am." Phyllis was hugely enjoying herself. There was no doubt that he took her for Janet, and she delighted in teasing him.

"Do you mean to tell me that they went off and left you?" Two dark eyebrows that contrasted oddly with the golden wig came together in a frown just above the black mask.

"Perhaps," -- Phyllis threw a note of sorrow into her voice, and her eyes looked up into his without a hint of laughter.

"I never heard of such a thing," he said angrily, and something in the way he said it brought back a sudden memory to Phyllis and made her eyes dance. She lowered them quickly, for it was just possible that Don's cousin might prove as clever as Don.

The knight sat down beside her on the bench and rested his sword beside him.

"What's your name?" he asked presently.

"You'd never believe it if I told you," Phyllis replied.

"Well, tell me anyhow."

"I am Queen Mab," -- Phyllis dropped her voice to a whisper -- "but I am masquerading as Pierrette, so you mustn't tell anybody."

"Don't be silly," was the knight's ungallant reply. "I mean, who are you really?"

"See, I told you you wouldn't believe," -- Phyllis shrugged her shoulders daintily. "I dare say you don't believe in fairies nor brownies either," she ventured, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

The words should have given the knight the hint he wanted, but he was too cross to understand it just then.

"Oh, very well," he said huffily, "if you won't tell me, you won't; but don't expect me to tell you my name either."

"I don't have to," Phyllis laughed gayly. "I know; it's Chuck."

"Well I'll be darned," -- Sir Galahad stared at her in amazement. "Then I know you?"

"I didn't say so," Phyllis teased.

He got up and stood facing her, arms folded.

"Come and get some lemonade," he commanded. "I am going to find out who you are, never you fear, but I am going to do it in my own way."

They walked to the little alcove where a maid in cap and apron was busily serving the punch. Chuck kept his eyes fastened on his companion as if he were determined to penetrate her mask and the saucy hood that jingled as they walked. He did not look up until they were at the table and when he did it was to find the monk and the donkey with -- he blinked, not his partner, for she was beside him, but surely her double.

Continue to chapter 12