Marjorie's New Friend

"I don't care," said Midget, happily, "I know we'll have a lovely time, even if it is arithmetic."

Valentine's Day came before the quarantine was raised.

Marjorie was very sorry for this, for the doctor had said that after a few days more she could go home, and it seemed as if she might have gone for the fourteenth.

But he would not allow it, so there was nothing to do but make the best of it.

The night before Valentine's Day, however, she did feel a bit blue, as she thought of King and Kitty and even Rosy Posy addressing their valentines, and making a frolic of it as they always did.

And she thought of her father, who was always ready to help on such occasions, making verses, and printing them in his fine, neat handwriting. Of course, they would send some to her,—she knew that,—but she was losing all the jolly family fun, and it seemed a pity.

And then the telephone rang, and it was her father calling for her.

"Hello, Midget," came his cheery voice over the wire; "now I wonder if a little girl about you? size isn't feeling sorry for herself this evening."

"I'm afraid I am, Father, but I'm trying not to."

"Good for you, Sister! Now don't bother to do it, for I can tell you I'm feeling so sorry for you that it's unnecessary for anybody else to do that same. Now I'll tell you something to chirk you up. I suppose you have lessons to-morrow morning?"

"Yes; Miss Hart said we could have a holiday if we chose, but we didn't choose. So we're going to have special valentiney lessons,—I don't know what they'll be."

"All right; and in the afternoon, I shall send you over a valentine party. No people, you know, they're not allowed; but all the rest of a nice valentine party."

"Why, Father, how can we have a party without people?"

"Easily enough. I'll attend to that. Goodnight, now, Midget. Hop to bed, and dream hearts and darts and loves and doves and roses and posies and all such things."

"All right, I will. Good-night, Father dear. Is Mother there?"

"Yes,—hold the wire."

So Mrs. Maynard came and said a loving goodnight to her near yet faraway daughter, and Marjorie went to bed all cheered up, instead of lonely and despondent.

St. Valentine's Day was a fine, crisp winter day, with sunshine dancing on the snow, and blue sky beaming down on the bare branches of the trees.

The fun began at breakfast-time, when everybody found valentines at their plates,—for as Midge and Delight agreed, they had made so many, and they must use them up somehow. So Miss Hart and Mrs. Spencer received several in the course of the day; two were surreptitiously stuffed into Doctor Mendel's coat pockets, and the kittens each received some.

Lessons that morning were not really lessons at all. Miss Hart called it a Literature Class.

First she told the girls about the origin of Valentines, and how they happened to be named for St. Valentine, and why he was chosen as the patron saint of love. Then she read them some celebrated valentines written by great poets, and the girls had to read them after her, with great care as to their elocution.

She showed them some curious valentines, whose initials spelled names or words, and were called acrostics, and told of some quaint old-fashioned valentines that had been sent to her grandmother.

"And now," she said finally, "we've had enough of the sentimental side, I will read you a funny valentine story."

So, in her whimsical, dramatic fashion, she read the tragic tale of Mr. Todgers and Miss Tee.

"In the town of Slocum Pocum, eighteen-seventy A.D.,Lived Mr. Thomas Todgers and Miss Thomasina Tee;The lady blithely owned to forty-something in the shade,While Todgers, chuckling, called himself a rusty-eating blade,And on the village green they lived in two adjacent cots.Adorned with green Venetians and vermilion flower pots."No doubt you've heard it stated—'tis an aphorism trite—That people who live neighborly in daily sound and sightOf each other's personality, habitually growTo look alike, and think alike, and act alike, and soDid Mr. Thomas Todgers and Miss Thomasina Tee,In the town of Slocum Pocum, eighteen-seventy A.D."Now Todgers always breakfasted at twenty-five to eight,At seven-thirty-five Miss Tee poured out her chocolate;And Todgers at nine-thirty yawned 'Lights out! I'll go to bed.'At half-past nine Miss Tee 'retired'—a word she used instead.Their hours were identical at meals and church and chores,At weeding in the garden, or at solitaire indoors.""'Twas the twelfth of February, so the chronicler avers;Mr. Todgers in his garden, and Miss Tee, of course, in hers;Both assiduously working, both no doubt upon their knees,Chanced to raise their eyes together; glances met—and, if you please,Ere one could say Jack Robinson! tut-tut! or fol-de-re!Thomasina loved Mr. Todgers; Mr. Todgers loved Miss Tee!"Two heads with but a single thought went bobbing to the dust,And Todgers smiled sub rosa, and Miss Thomasina blushed;Then they seized their garden tackle and incontinently fledDown the box-edged pathways past the flower pots of red;Past the vivid green Venetians, past the window curtains white,Into their respective dwellings, and were seen no more that night."All that night poor love-sick Todgers tried his new-born hopes to quell,And Miss Tee made resolutions, but she did not make them well,For they went to smash at daybreak, and she softly murmured ''TisKismet! Fate! Predestination! If he'll have me I am his.'While Todgers sang 'There's Only One Girl in This World for Me,'Or its music hall equivalent in eighteen-seventy."It was February thirteenth (On, my Pegasus! Nor balkAt that fear-inspiring figure!) Thomasina took a walk.And Fate drew her—drew her—drew her by a thousand spidery linesTo a Slocum Pocum window filled chockful of valentines,All gaudy—save two, just alike in color, shape and size,Which pressed against the window pane and caught the lady's eyes."'How chaste! How charming! How complete!' she cried. 'It must be mine!I'll tell my love to Thomas in this lovely valentine,Whereon is suitably inscribed, in letters fine and free,'SEND BACK THIS TENDER TOKEN IF YOU CANNOT MARRY ME.'So with her cheeks all rosy, and her pulses all astir,She went in and brought the valentine and took it home with her."Ten minutes later Thomas paused outside the self-same store.You guess the rest. Fate grappled him and pushed him through the door,And made him buy the fellow to the very valentineWhich Thomasina had purchased there at twenty-five to nine.He chuckled (and Fate chuckled) the appropriate words to see—'SEND BACK THIS TENDER TOKEN IF YOU CANNOT MARRY ME.'"It was February fourteenth, and the postman's rat-a-tatMade two hearts in Slocum Pocum beat a feverish pit-patThomas and Thomasina each in turn rushed doorwards andSnatched their respective missives from the post's extended hand;And the postman, wicked rascal, slowly winked the other eye,And said: 'Seems to me the old folks is a gettin' pretty spry.'"They tore the letters open. 'What is this? Rejected! Spurned!'Both thought the cards before them were their valentines returned.And Thomas went to Africa, and Thomasina to Rome;And other tenants came to fill each small deserted home.So no more in Slocum Pocum may we hope again to seePoor Mr. Thomas Todgers and poor Thomasina Tee."

"That's awfully funny," said Delight, as Miss Hart finished reading, "but I should think they would have known they got each other's valentine."

"I shouldn't," said Midge, who entered more into the spirit of the story; "they didn't know each other sent any, so each thought their own was returned. Besides, if they hadn't thought so, there wouldn't have been any story."

"That's so," said Delight, who usually agreed with Marjorie, finally.

The postman brought lots of valentines for the two little girls. Delight's were almost all from her friends in New York, although some of the Rockwell young people had remembered her too.

Marjorie's were nearly all from Rockwell, and though there were none from any of her family, that did not bother her, for she knew they would come in the afternoon for the "party."

CHAPTER XVI

A VALENTINE PARTY

At four o'clock the "party" came. Midget and Delight, watching from the window, saw James and Thomas come across the street, bringing between them a great big something, all wrapped in white tissue paper. They left their burden, whatever it was, on the porch, rang the door-bell, and went away.

The children flew to the door, and, with the help of Mary and Miss Hart, they brought the big thing in.

Though bulky, it was not heavy, and they set it in the library and proceeded to take off the wrappings. As the last sheet of tissue paper was removed, shrieks of admiration went up from the girls, and Mrs. Spencer came running in to see what the excitement was about.

She saw a large heart, about five feet high, made on a light wood frame, which was covered with red crépe paper. It was bordered with red and white gilt flowers, also made of paper, and at the top was a big bow of red ribbon, with long fluttering streamers. On top of the heart, of either shoulder, sat two beautiful white doves which were real doves, stuffed, and they held in their beaks envelopes, one marked Delight and one Marjorie.

The whole affair had a back stay, and stood up on the floor like an easel. The paper that covered the heart was put on in folds, like tucks upside down, and in the folds were thrust many envelopes, that doubtless contained valentines. Between and among these were little cupids and doves fastened on, also nosegays of flowers and fluttering ribbons, and hearts pierced with darts, and the whole effect was like one great big valentine.

Before touching the envelopes, Delight and Marjorie sat on the floor, their arms round each other, and gazed at the pretty sight.

"Did your father make it?" asked Delight.

"He planned it, I'm sure," replied Marjorie. "But they all helped make it, I know. I suppose Father had the frame made somewhere, then he and Mother covered it, and Kit and King helped make the flowers and things.

Oh, I wish I'd been there!"

"Then they wouldn't have made it!" said Delight, quickly, and Midge laughed, and said:

"No, I suppose not. Well, shall we begin to read the valentines?"

"Yes, but let's take them out slowly, and make it last a long while."

"Yes, for this is our 'party,' you know. Oh, see, these envelopes in the doves' bills say on them, 'To be opened last.' So we'll begin with these others. You take one with your name on, first."

So Delight pulled out an envelope that was addressed to her.

It contained a valentine of which the principal figure was a pretty little girl, something like Delight herself. Inside was written:

"Flossy Flouncy, fair and fine,Let me be your Valentine.Here's my heart laid at your feet,Flossy Flouncy, fair and sweet."

"I know King wrote that!" cried Midget; "he always calls you Flossy Flouncy. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, indeed! I think it's fun. I'm going to call him Old King Cole. That is, if I ever see him again."

"Oh, pshaw! We'll be out of this prison next week. The doctor said so.

And you must come and make me a visit to even things up."

"Mother wouldn't let me go to your house to stay, I'm sure; but I can go over afternoons or Saturdays."

"Yes, and you'll get to know King better. He's an awful nice boy."

"I'm sure he is. Now you take a valentine."

Midget pulled out the biggest one that was addressed to her. It held a beautiful, large valentine, not home-made, but of most elaborate design.

On its back, though, was a verse written, that Midge knew at once was done by her father. It said:

"Marjorie Midget Mopsy Mops,I have looked through all the shops,Searching for a ValentineGood enough for Midget Mine.This is the best that I could do,So here it is with my love so true."

"Isn't it a beauty!" cried Midge; "I never had such a handsome one before. See how the flowers are tied with real ribbons, and the birds hop in and out of their cages."

"It's splendid!" said Delight, "and here's a big one for me too!"

She pulled out a large envelope, addressed to herself, and found a valentine quite as beautiful as Marjorie's and almost exactly like it. It was from her father, and as Mr. Spencer didn't have the knack of rhyming as well as Mr. Maynard, he had written on the back:

"Dear Delight,I can't write,But I send youAffection true,Yankee Doodle Doo!"

"I think that's funny!" cried Marjorie. "I love funny valentines."

"So do I," agreed Delight; "and I didn't know father could make rhymes as well as that. He must have learned from your father."

"I 'spect he did. Everybody makes verses at our house."

Marjorie smiled to think of the grave and dignified Mr. Spencer learning to write funny rhymes, but she was glad Delight had a big valentine like hers.

Then they pulled out the others, by turns. Some were lovely ones that had been bought; some were home-made ones; some were funny, but the funny ones were home-made, they were not the dreadful things that are called "comic" valentines.

Then there were valentines from Gladys and her brother Dick, which had been delivered by the postman at Marjorie's home, and sent over with the others. There was one from each of the home servants, who were all fond of Midget, and glad to send her a token of remembrance. And among the best of all were valentines from Grandma Sherwood and Uncle Steve.

Uncle Steve was especially clever at writing verses, and he sent several valentines to both the girls.

One bore a picture of two weeping maidens, behind barred windows in a castle tower. The verses ran thus:

"Two Princesses locked in a tower,Alas, alas for they!I would they need not stay an hour,Nor yet another day.But to a lovely rosy bowerThe two might fly away."I would I were a birdie fleetThat I might wing a flight,And bear to them a message sweetEach morning, noon and night.Twould be to me a perfect treatTo see their faces bright."But, no, in their far home they stay,And I must stay in mine;But though we are so far awayOur thoughts we may entwine.And I will send this little layFrom your fond

"VALENTINE."

"That's lovely," said Delight, "and it's for me as much as you. What jolly relatives you have."

"Oh, Uncle Steve is wonderful. He can do anything. Sometime perhaps you can go to his house with me, then you'll see. Oh, here's a pretty one, listen."

Midge read aloud:

"What is a Valentine? Tell me, pray.Only a fanciful roundelayBearing a message from one to another(This time, to a dear little girl from her mother).Message of love and affection true;This is a Valentine, I LOVE YOU!"

"That's sweet. Did your mother write it?"

"Yes, Mother makes lovely poetry. Here's a ridiculous one from Kit."

"Marjorie, Parjorie, Pudding and Pie,Hurry up home, or I'll have to cry.Since you've been gone I've grown so thinI'm nothing at all but bone and skin.So hurry up home if you have any pityFor your poor little lonesome sister

"KITTY."

"Why, I thought people never signed valentines," said Delight, laughing at Kitty's effusion.

"They don't, real ones. But of course these are just nonsense ones, and anyway I know Kit's writing, so it doesn't matter."

There were lots of others, and through Marjorie, naturally, had more than Delight, yet there were plenty for both girls, and set out on two tables they made a goodly show. Miss Hart was called in to see them, but she answered that she was busy in the dining-room just then, and would come in a few moments.

The big heart that had held the valentines was not at all marred, but rather improved by their removal, and, the girls admired it more than ever.

"But we haven't taken the last ones yet," said Delight, looking at the two envelopes in the bills of the doves. They took them at the same time, and opened them simultaneously.

Each contained a valentine and a tiny parcel. The valentines were exactly alike, and their verses read the same:

"This is a Ring Dove, fair and whiteThat brings this gift to you to-night.But why a Ring Dove, you may ask;The answer is an easy task.Look in this tiny box and seeWhat has the Ring Dove brought to thee!"

Eagerly the girls opened the boxes, and inside, on a bit of cotton wool, lay two lovely rings exactly alike. They were set with a little heart made of tiny pearls and turquoises, and they just fitted the fingers of the two little girls.

"Aren't they exquisite!" cried Delight, who loved pretty things.

"Beautiful!" agreed Midge, who thought more of the ring as a souvenir. "We can always remember to-day by them. I suppose your father sent yours and my father sent mine."

"Yes, of course they did. Oh, Miss Hart, do look at our rings and valentines!"

Miss Hart came in, smiling, and proved an interested audience of one, as she examined all the pretty trifles.

"And now," said Miss Hart, at last, "there's more to your valentine party. Will you come out to the dining-room and see it?"

Wondering, the two girls followed Miss Hart to the dining-room, and fairly stood still in astonishment at the scene. As it was well after dusk now, the shades had been drawn, and the lights turned on. The table was set as if for a real party, and the decorations were all of pink and white.

Pink candles with pretty pink shades cast a soft light, and pink and white flowers were beautifully arranged. In the centre was a waxen cupid with gilt wings, whose outstretched hands bore two large hearts suspended by ribbons. These hearts were most elaborate satin boxes, one having Marjorie on it in gilt letters and the other Delight. As it turned out, they were to be kept as jewel boxes, or boxes for any little trinkets, but now they were filled with delicious bon-bons, the satin lining being protected by tinfoil and lace paper.

The table was laid for four, and at each place was a valentine.

Mrs. Spencer and Miss Hart took their seats, but, at first, the girls were too bewildered to understand.

"It's your party, Marjorie," said Miss Hart, smiling. "Your father and mother sent it all over,—everything, even the candles and flowers. All we've done is to arrange it on the table. So you must sit at the head, as you're hostess."

So Midget took her place at the head of the table, with Delight opposite.

Each person had a parcel at their plate, daintily tied up in pink paper and white ribbon, and sealed with little gold hearts.

Mrs. Spencer said they would not open these until after the feast, so after they had looked a few moments longer on the pretty things all about the table, Mary brought in the first course, and the party began.

First there was fruit, and this consisted of a slice of pineapple cut in a heart shape, and surrounded on the plate by strawberries and candied cherries. This dainty arrangement, on lace paper, was so pretty that Delight said it was too bad to disturb it.

"It's too good not to be disturbed," said Marjorie, and as it was really dinner time, and the girls were hungry, the lovely fruit course soon disappeared.

"This isn't dinner," said Mrs. Spencer, "it's a party supper. Your party, you know, Marjorie."

"Yes'm; I didn't see how Father could send me a party without people. But he did his part, didn't he?"

"Yes, indeed; and we're doing ours. We've all the people that we can have, and so we'll make the best of it."

"I think it's a lovely party," said Delight, "the best one I ever went to. Oh, what are these?"

For Mary was just passing the most fascinating looking dish. It was oyster croquettes, carefully moulded in heart shapes, accompanied by French fried potatoes also cut into little hearts.

"Ellen cut these, I know she did," said Marjorie. "She's such a clever cook, and she loves to make fancy things."

"Your mother is very fortunate with her servants," said Mrs. Spencer, with a little sigh.

And then came lovely brown bread sandwiches, of course they were heart shaped too, and Marjorie declared she'd have heart-disease if these things kept on!

But they did keep on. Next came jellied chicken that had been moulded in heart forms, and lettuce salad with red hearts cut from beets among the crisp yellow leaves.

Then came dessert, and it was a bewildering array of heart ice creams, and heart cakes, and heart bon-bons, and heart shaped forms of jelly.

"Only one of each, to-night," said Mrs. Spencer, smiling. "I don't want two invalids for valentines, I can assure you."

So lots of the good things were left over for next day, and Marjorie remarked that she thought the next day's feast was always about as much fun as the party any way.

"Now for our presents," said Delight, as the last plates were removed, and they sat round the table still feasting their eyes on the pretty trinkets that decorated it.

So Mrs. Spencer opened her parcel first.

She found a silver photograph frame shaped like a heart. Of course, Mr.

Spencer had sent it, and the pretty card with it read:

"As at my verse I'm sure you'd sniff,

I simply send this little gift.

"VALENTINE."

The Spencers seemed to think this a fine poem but Marjorie secretly wondered if a grown-up man could think those words rhymed!

Miss Hart opened her box next, and found a heart-shaped filigree gold brooch of great beauty. The Maynards had sent her this, not only as a valentine, but as a token of gratitude for her kindness to Marjorie.

These verses were written on a fancy card:

"Hearts to Miss HartSo I bring you a heart.Your name is fineFor a Valentine.Though this trinket smallCan't tell you all'Twill give you a hintThat hearts are not flint;And when this one of goldOur good wishes has told,May it brightly shineAs your valentine."

"It's just a darling!" exclaimed Miss Hart, looking at the welcome gift.

"Your parents are too good to me, Marjorie."

"I'm glad of it," said Midge, simply, "you're too good to me!"

She smiled at Miss Hart, and then she and Delight opened their boxes together.

Their gifts were just alike, and were pink and gold cups and saucers. The china and decoration were exquisite, and both cup and saucer were heart shaped. Not the most convenient shape to drink from, perhaps, but lovely for a souvenir of Valentine's Day.

Then they took the boxes held out by the wax cupid, and admired the tufted satin and the painted garlands.

"Let's take the candies out and put them in other boxes," said Delight, "so there'll be no danger of getting a bit of chocolate on the satin."

This was a good idea, and then they took all the pretty ornaments into the library and set them around on tables.

"It's like Christmas," said Delight, with a little sigh of happiness. "I do love pretty things."

"Then you ought to be happy now," said Miss Hart, "for I never saw such an array of favors."

And indeed the room looked like a valentine shop, with its flowers and gifts and cupids and valentines, and the big heart standing in front of the mantel.

Then Miss Hart spent the evening playing games with the children, and after an enthusiastic telephone conversation with the people opposite, Marjorie and Delight went upstairs, agreeing that nobody had ever had such a lovely Valentine party.

CHAPTER XVII

A JINKS AUCTION

At last the day came when Marjorie was allowed to go home.

Doctor Mendel had had a most thorough fumigation and disinfection, and all danger was over. The little boy was convalescent, and there was no longer any reason why Midget or Mr. Spencer should be exiled from their homes.

And so, liberated from her prison, Midget flew, across the street, and into the arms of her waiting family.

"Mother first!" she cried, as they all crowded round, but so mixed up did the Maynards become, that it was one grand jumble of welcoming hugs and kisses.

"Oh, I'm so glad to be home again," Marjorie cried, as she looked about the familiar living-room. "It seems as if I'd been away years."

"Seems so to me, too," said Kitty, who had greatly missed her sister.

"Mother, aren't we going to celebrate Mopsy's coming home?"

Now "celebration" in the Maynard household, always meant dress-up frocks, and ice cream for dessert.

"Of course," said Mrs. Maynard, smiling; "fly upstairs, girlies, and get into some pretty dresses, and then fly down again, for father's coming home early."