Valentine departed in disgrace the following day, and the letter which Miss Herrick wrote to his uncle bore such results that he concluded that it would be wiser in future to avoid any such initiation rites as those which had just been attempted.
Elizabeth went to school as usual, but it was with so sad a heart that even her friend Patsy could not succeed in cheering her. A note was sent to Mrs. Arnold, which told her that Miss Herrick's niece was not to take drawing lessons, so that delightful prospect faded away into thin air, much to the little girl's disappointment.
And the room was closed again, and life in the old Herrick house went on about as usual, until an event came to pass by which it was again startled out of its accustomed calm, and which brought a great change into Elizabeth's existence.
For some weeks Patsy Loring had been planning to give a party. It was to be on her birthday, which fell on the first day of December. Elizabeth had never been to a party in her life, and the thought of going to one, and to one so delightful as Patsy Loring's was sure to be, served to keep her awake at night and to absorb her mind by day. And then a present was to be bought, and although her aunts took little interest in the all-important subject, Elizabeth was allowed to go to Chestnut Street under the care of the maid, and after much hesitation and the visiting of many shops, a beautiful silver pencil was selected for Patsy to use in school.
Twenty times a day did Elizabeth gaze upon it as it lay on green cotton in a pink box, and at last it was tied up in tissue-paper with a colored ribbon, and carried to Patsy's house, for the hour for the party had arrived.
Elizabeth Herrick had grown to be quite a tall girl, and in many respects she seemed much older than her thirteen years, while in others she was a mere child.
Her beautiful hair still hung in a shining mass over her shoulders, and she was simply dressed in a white frock with a broad blue sash about her waist. Her aunt believed in "dressing children as children," so that she seemed almost out of place among the very young-ladyfied girls who assembled at Mis. Loring's on this birthday afternoon.
After supper--for it was a tea party--Patsy's sister took her seat at the piano, and they all danced. All except Elizabeth. The mere idea of being asked to dance so terrified her that she fled up stairs to the little sitting-room, determined to stay there until the evening had worn away and some one should come to take her home.