CHAPTER XVII

"AN OLD-FASHIONED HALLOWE'EN PARTY" ELIZABETH'S victory over Miss Winthrop was the talk of the school on Monday morning, but, before noon, she had furnished them with another topic for discussion, when she announced that she intended to forfeit her game with Miss Currier, a player very much inferior to Miss Winthrop. To all the questions excitedly asked of her, she only smiled and shook her head. But Nance knew the reason, and heartily disapproved of it. She herself had won her first game easily, and it was conceded that she would have no more difficulty with her next opponent than Elizabeth would have with Miss Currier. This, of course, would bring them into the finals against each other.

"You ought n't to drop out," protested Nance. "It's like giving me the championship, and there's no fun getting it that way."

"I can't help it, Nance," Elizabeth answered, determinedly. "I'd feel just as badly beating you as I would being beaten by you, and that 's all there is to it!"

"I don't think it's quite sportsmanlike," frowned Nance.

"Perhaps it is n't," Elizabeth agreed readily. "But it's a fact."

During the next few weeks the school became about evenly divided between one group, centering around Elizabeth and Nance, and a second group which hovered around the Brookfield girls. Elizabeth herself, however, was far too busy, between her school and home duties, to give much thought to this.

Mrs. Trumbull had feared at first that Elizabeth, once back in her old circle, would lose interest in her home, but the direct contrary seemed to be the fact. The more she was out of the little house by the lane, the keener was her delight in returning to it. She went about her tasks with renewed zeal. Though Mrs. Trumbull, under the circumstances, thought it might be too heavy a burden for Elizabeth to carry, the latter refused to shirk a single duty. She was up as early as usual, and prepared the breakfast. Upon her return from school, Mrs. Trumbull had luncheon ready for her, but Elizabeth insisted upon preparing dinner and on devoting Saturday forenoon to setting the house in order.

"It would n't seem like my home if I did n't," said Elizabeth, when Mrs. Trumbull expressed concern lest the work be too much for her.

"Well, I must say you don't make much fuss about it," Mrs. Trumbull replied resignedly. So late October came. The trees, after their

"Don't be vexed, Nance," she pleaded. "I have n't played much, you know, and so when I play, I play with all my might. It seemed cruel to force Miss Winthrop when she was all tired out. I'd never forgive myself if I played you that way, and it would n't be tennis any other way, would it?"

"No," admitted Nance.

"Then let's not talk any more about it." "All right," agreed Nance with a smile. won't."

And she did n't, but, on the following Saturday, she did not appear on the courts, and so lost her own set by forfeit.

"What's the matter with you two girls, anyway?" demanded Roy, when he next met them. "Some day we 're going to play off the match in private," answered Elizabeth.

"“Oh, I see—and you 'll let me umpire?" "No, sir!" laughed Elizabeth. "There won't be a single soul to watch us, not even you!"

And now, with these harvest tasks completed, Elizabeth was ready to put into effect a plan that had been in her mind ever since school opened.

"I want to give a housewarming," she announced to Mrs. Trumbull. “I think that, for some reason, half the girls are afraid to call here, and so I'm going to invite them all, and introduce them to my home."

"Who cares whether they come or not?" demanded Mrs. Trumbull.

"Oh," laughed Elizabeth, "I want them. I'd

like this to be a sort of gathering place for all my friends."

"Well, it would be a good way to find out who are your friends and who are n't, anyway," declared Mrs. Trumbull.

"I don't even care about that," answered Elizabeth. "I'm friends with all of them, whether they are with me or not. I thought Hallowe'en would be a good time to begin."

"So it would," agreed Mrs. Trumbull. "Your mother always had a party on Hallowe'en."

That afternoon Roy dropped in and Elizabeth told him of her plan.

"Fine!" he exclaimed. "This is just the place for a Hallowe'en party. You can't have a real one in an apartment-house, any more than you can have a real Thanksgiving in the city."

"I may have to call upon you to help me," she hinted.

"I 'd like nothing better," he answered.

"Then I'll make out a list right away, and perhaps you and Nance can help me address the envelops."

"I don't star as a penman," he answered. "But I'll stick the stamps for you."

A few days later, Roy, Nance, and Elizabeth were seated at their task in the sitting-room. Elizabeth had included in her list all her boy friends, and many that Roy had suggested, as well as all the girls in school of her own age. As Roy came to the names of the Brookfield girls, he scowled.

"I suppose you had to ask them," he said.

"Yes," she answered with a laugh. "Really, I don't want to quarrel with any one, Roy, and I thought that if they came and had a good time-" "Supposing they don't come?" he demanded. "Oh, I'm sure they 'll come if only to make fun," answered Elizabeth.

"They 've no business to do that," he growled. "Well, they have n't done it yet," returned Elizabeth, good-naturedly. "We must n't scold them beforehand."

"I'm afraid of their tricks," said Roy. "They are so clever about such things that you never know what they 'll be up to next."

"I'm not afraid of them," answered Elizabeth. "And I do hope they will come and have a good time."

"They would n't admit they had a good time if they came," answered Roy.

He would n't have expressed his opinion to any one else, but he was as frank with Elizabeth as with his mother. He had met the two girls only a few days before, and they had suggested that some one ought to arrange a Hallowe'en party. He had hinted then, as broadly as he dared, that

Elizabeth had something of the sort in mind. He had n't liked the expression in Helen's eyes as he told her this. It had left him with the feeling that he would have done better not even to have hinted. With this in mind, he tossed back to Elizabeth the envelop intended for Jane and Helen.

"Will you please address this?" he said briefly. When he left that afternoon, he took all the invitations with him, and mailed them at the postoffice. In the evening Mr. Churchill came over from "The Towers," and Elizabeth told him more fully her plans, of which he had already approved.

"I want to make it just like one of Mother's parties," she confided to him. "So now I want you to tell me everything you two used to do on Hallowe'en."

Elizabeth brought her chair closer to him so that she could rest her head upon his shoulder. He placed his arm about her. Mrs. Trumbull sat sewing on the other side of the fire. The setting was just as it was twenty years before. When he began to speak, it was with the worry of half a dozen business problems still teasing his brain, but as he went on, these were all forgotten. They were forgotten as they used to be in those days when business was always of secondary interest to the house by the lane and the home for which it stood. Then it was life and peace and happiness which counted most, and an event like one of these parties was to be remembered, even in the face of his biggest schemes for the getting of a fortune. So he sat for an hour telling of the decorations and the games and the people, until Elizabeth felt as though she herself had been one of the former guests.

"Oh, Daddy!" she exclaimed when he had finished, "I wish I had been there, too."

He patted her head.

"It does n't do much good to wish for impossibilities," put in Mrs. Trumbull.

"No," agreed Mr. Churchill.

"And I say we ought to be planning for the party to come."

"Right!" nodded Mr. Churchill. "For the party to come will soon be the party that is gone, and we must have pleasant memories of that too." Elizabeth sat up.

"My party is all planned," she declared. "I'm going to have everything just as Mother had it.” "Now that is n't a bad idea," said Mrs. Trumbull, looking up from her sewing.

"But I shall need you to help me, Daddy." "I'll do what I can," he agreed.

"Then let me see. To-day is Tuesday, and the thirty-first comes on Saturday. Will you

come home early, so that I may have you the whole afternoon?"

He hesitated.

"I'm afraid-" he began.

"I suppose-"

"There's Martin," he suggested.

"I shall need you-you and no one but you," she pleaded.

Still he hesitated, for he had at least one important business engagement for that afternoon, but, as he lifted his eyes, he caught in Mrs. Trumbull's glance a worried look that decided him.

"All right!" he submitted, "I'll be here at two o'clock."

Elizabeth sprang to her feet.

"Now," she declared, "I 'm sure my party will be a success!"

But the next morning, Elizabeth received in the mail a little square envelop that took away her breath. On the surface it was inoffensive enough, but reading between the lines, it sounded like a declaration of war. It read as follows:

The Misses Brookfield desire the honor of Miss Elizabeth Churchill's company on Hallowe'en, October thirtyfirst, at eight o'clock.

R. S. V. P.

3 Apthwaite Court.

The Misses Brookfield must have received her own invitation that very morning. To be sure, this conflict might have been accidental, but something made Elizabeth recall Roy's words of warning. And whether accidental or not, this made a very embarrassing situation. There was no doubt but that both had invited about the same people. They had many friends in common, both at Miss Grimshawe's and at Roy's school. The two invitations would reach the same people at the same time, and this would leave them nothing to do but choose.

Elizabeth hurried into the kitchen with the letter and showed it to Mrs. Trumbull. The latter adjusted her steel-bowed spectacles and read it through.

"Well!" she exclaimed. "Of all the mean tricks I ever heard of, this is the worst!"

"But we don't know for sure that it is a trick," Elizabeth protested charitably, though with her heart in her boots.

"Of course it 's a trick," answered Mrs. Trumbull, impatiently. "You wait until Roy sees this!" "I suppose it means that I'd better give up my party," faltered Elizabeth.

"Who?" asked Elizabeth.

"Roy Thornton, Nance, and your dad. They are worth more than all the rest of them put together."

"Perhaps perhaps Roy won't come," suggested Elizabeth.

"He won't, eh?" exclaimed Mrs. Trumbull. "Well, I'd be willing to stake my life he will !”

In

That night Elizabeth received five regrets-all from her girl friends. But the next morning she received as many acceptances, and these, oddly enough, were all from boys. On Friday came more regrets and more acceptances, again divided as before. Elizabeth was mystified, but she went on with her preparations with as good a heart as possible. Friday, after school, both she and Mrs. Trumbull were busy in the kitchen, making cake and doughnuts and pumpkin-pies. addition to this, Elizabeth made fudge and walnut creams. Martin had plenty to do cracking nuts and hollowing out the pumpkins, cutting eyes, noses, and mouths in them, and preparing the candles. From the beginning, Mrs. Trumbull had insisted that if this was to be an old-fashioned Hallowe'en party, everything must be made at home. Mr. Churchill had suggested that the chef be allowed to make some of the pastry, but Mrs. Trumbull would n't listen a minute to that.

"No, siree!" she said. "This is going to be an American party, and my notion of an American party is where you put something of yourself into it."

"If I might make so bold as to say so, that 's an English party, too," observed Martin.

Elizabeth had very good luck with her candy. The fudge was smooth and firm, while the creams were every whit as good as any she could have bought in town. So was the cake, for that matter, and the caramel frosting would melt in your mouth.

Elizabeth received a note that day from Roy, saying that, with the foot-ball team and his studies, he would n't be able to come over and help, and that Saturday he was to play.

"I'd ask you to come to the game," he concluded, "but I know you'll be too busy. The whole team is looking forward to the party, and I'm coming over early Saturday evening to help you with the finishing touches. Hooray for you!” The whole team! Elizabeth was still pretty

while every boy she had asked had written his enthusiastic thanks. She was too busy to worry much about this, but it certainly looked queer.

The next afternoon her father, true to his promise, appeared shortly before two o'clock, ready for work. She pinned a blue apron over, his business suit, to make him feel that he really had a great deal to do, and then ordered him to sit down while she and Martin festooned the windows with long strips of yellow paper.

"What I want you to do, Daddy," she explained, with an airy wave of her hand, "is to sort of oversee things."

"Look here," he protested, "I want to do more than that!"

"Then," she permitted, "you may hold the hammer and tacks."

But that did not suit him either, and in less than a minute, he was mounting the step-ladder and doing the actual work, while she herself was overseeing the job, and Martin was holding the tacks. They draped the windows with the yellow paper, and ran it all around the room. From this they suspended long strips which reached to the floor. The idea was to produce the color effect of an autumn corn-field, and, to make it more real, Martin brought in several large stacks of the dried corn-stalks, which were placed in the corners. In each of the front windows one of the hollowed out pumpkins was placed ready for the lighted candles. The orchestra contributed by Mr. Churchill as his share was to be half concealed in a recess.

The dining-room was decorated in much the same fashion as the front room, the dishes brought out, and the sandwiches made. Every one was as busy as possible until it was time to dress for the evening. And no one was happier in the work than Mr. Churchill himself.

When Elizabeth came down-stairs, Roy was waiting for her with a box of jonquils. She tucked one of these in her hair, and wore the others at her waist. She looked like a young and very charming goddess of the harvest.

"I came early to see what I could do," said Roy. “And-and-I suppose you know the Brookfield girls are giving a party to-night."

"Yes," answered Elizabeth, with a smile, "I received an invitation."

"So did I. So did all the boys."

"So did all the girls," added Elizabeth.

"I know it. But-well, you wait and see what happens."

"I know one thing that will happen," answered Elizabeth, good-naturedly, "I 'm afraid the boys who come here won't have many dance partners."

"So?" grinned Roy. "I'll bet my hat that the girls at the Brookfield party won't either." "Roy," exclaimed Elizabeth, "I hope you did n't do anything to make the boys come here!"

"Make them?" returned Roy. "You could n't have kept them away!"

Just at this moment, Nance arrived, and fifteen minutes later, promptly at eight o'clock, the doorbell rang, and Martin, proud in his old regalia of "The Towers," swung open the front door. Not one boy, but sixteen, filed in like a well-drilled regiment. In greeting her guests and in presenting them to Nance, Elizabeth found her hands full, and, these preliminaries over, the party ran itself. Never did boys have a better time, and, for that matter, never did Elizabeth. She felt like a queen in the midst of her court. It seemed as though each boy vied with the others in his attentions to Nance and herself. For an hour, all struggled strenuously for the honors of the various Hallowe'en contests, and then the floor was cleared for the dance. Seven of the boys bound their arms with handkerchiefs and danced as girls. Roy led the grand march with Elizabeth,-Grandon, the little quarter-back, seized Mrs. Trumbull and insisted that she follow as his partner, while Sears came after with Nance. The sport waxed merrier and merrier from that moment on. Two-steps, waltzes, quadrilles, and Virginia reels followed in quick succession. Mrs. Trumbull had not danced so much in thirty years, but no boy would be satisfied until he had had her, as well as Elizabeth and Nance, for a partner. In the midst of the gaiety Mr. Churchill himself appeared, and joined in as though no older than the others.

When it came to the spread, every member of the foot-ball team-and they were there to a man -broke training. Doughnuts, pie, and cake vanished as though by magic; sandwiches appeared only to disappear; and as for Elizabeth's candy, it melted like snowflakes before the sun.

It was eleven o'clock before the merriment ceased, and the boys reluctantly took their departure, vowing they had never had a better time in all their lives. They filed out in a body, and, as the door closed behind them, Elizabeth threw her arms about her father's neck.

"Oh, Daddy!" she cried, "it was a success!" "Hark!" he answered.

Sharp as the crack of a machine-gun the school yell rang out in the night air, ending with: "Miss Churchill! Miss Churchill! Churchill! She 's all right!"

Miss