# Hilarity Hall/Chapter 9
### CHAPTER IX.
#### A WELCOME INVITATION.

With great presence of mind, Hester suddenly turned out the light in the music-room, and, under cover of the darkness, the girls scurried away.
As the services of the lady's-maids were required late at night, it had been arranged that Millicent and Helen should sleep at Mrs. Lennox's; but the other six returned to Hilarity Hall.
Uncle Ned and Aunt Molly called for them at the kitchen door, and it was with difficulty they repressed their merriment until they were far enough down the street to be out of ear-shot.
Then all the girls talked at once, and as they had most appreciative listeners the fun waxed high.
Next morning, bright and early, they returned to the scene of their labors.
Marguerite, armed with a huge and fluffy feather-duster, posed anew before the pier-glasses.
Helen seated herself at a desk in the library, and, though looking like the primmest and most industrious of amanuenses, was in reality writing a letter to her mother.
But the cooks and waitresses went to work and exerted themselves to the utmost to show those "English sillies," as Marjorie called them, what an American breakfast in its perfection is like.
"She wants her hair frizzed again!" said Millicent, in tones of deepest disgust, as she came into the kitchen to fill an alcohol-lamp.
"Well, it's lucky they selected you, Lamplighter, for that position; I could n't have filled it."
"No; you could n't even have filled the lamp," said Millicent, as she hurried to her uncongenial work.
The breakfast was ideal—beautifully cooked, perfectly served, and appreciatively eaten.
The morning wore away, and soon after luncheon the visitors prepared to depart.
Pretty Marguerite was a little too much in evidence for a parlor-maid; but she was so anxious to see as much as possible of the interesting English ladies that she could n't keep properly in the background.
Her reward was a withering glance from Lady Pendered as she drove away, and an overheard remark that "Miranda's servants were all admirable except that yellow-haired popinjay."
But when the carriage containing the Ladies Pendered was entirely out of sight, Mrs. Lennox's manner underwent a decided change, and the girls realized for the first time how much she, too, had been masquerading.
"You 're perfect dears!" she cried. "Let me kiss you—the whole lot of you! It was the most wonderful success! And I am simply delighted that you all acquitted yourselves so cleverly, and under so trying an ordeal. Girls, I shall never forget your kindness. You were trumps—absolute trumps! Now listen to me, my dearies. I have to go to the city to-morrow to get a new staff of servants—though I can assure you they 'll never give me such fine work as you girls have done. But that was fairyland, and we must now drop back to a prosaic reality in the matter of house-keeping. Now this is what I want you to do. Go back to your cottage for a couple of days, and then shut it up and come to stay with me as my guests for the rest of the time you are at Blue Beach."
"Oh, Mrs. Lennox," cried Marguerite, "how lovely that would be! The housekeeping at the cottage was fun in some ways, but I'd far rather stay in this lovely home and not cook my own meals."
"Lazy Daisy!" said Marjorie. "But I own up that I, too, am a little tired of the working part of Hilarity Hall."
"And well you may be," chimed in Betty; "for you did far more than your share of it."
"No, I did n't," declared Marjorie. "But, as president of the Summer Club, I move we accept Mrs. Lennox's invitation with heartfelt gratitude, and that a copy of these resolutions be engrossed and framed and presented to the lady in question."
"Ay, ay!" cried seven voices; and Mrs. Lennox beamed with delight at the anticipation of the frolics of these young girls in her somewhat lonely house.
So the good lady went to New York, and the girls trooped back to Hilarity Hall and told Aunt Molly all about it.
"It seems a bit like defeat," said Hester, who always liked to carry out successfully anything she undertook.
"Oh, no," said Aunt Molly; "you have no especial reason for staying in the cottage if a pleasanter plan offers itself. Take the good the gods provide, and be thankful."
"And I do hate to cook," confessed Marguerite. "It's all very well for Hester and Marjorie. They can put a bone in a kettle of water, set it on the fire, and wag a bay-leaf at it, and behold a delicious soup! But I follow carefully that grimy old cookery-book, get out all the utensils in the cupboard, and stew myself into a salamander, and then I 've only an uneatable mess as the result."
"Never mind, my pretty parlor-maid," said Marjorie "some are born cooks—that's me; some achieve cooks—that's Mrs. Lennox; and some have cookery thrust upon them—and that's what we 'll do after to-morrow. Now let's write up the 'Annals.’"
"Give the book to Nan; let her write," said Hester. "That's the only work we can trust her to do."
So Nan took the "Annals" and began to scribble, Marguerite reading aloud as the words appeared on the page:
"When the interesting Poet's not composing,
Or rolling round her fine poetic eye,
Oh, she loves to leave her tragic muse a-dozing
And spend her time in making cake and pie.
"But the other girls her aspirations smother
And will not let her have a bit of fun.
Taking one consideration with another,
The Poet's life is not a happy one.
"Oh, she'd love to make a salad or a fritter,
Or even polish up the parlor grate!
Yet they must suppose she is a helpless critter,
For they bind her to her melancholy fate.
"They make her grind out verses when she'd ruther
Turn out a pie or pudding or a bun.
Taking one consideration with another,
A Poet's life is not a happy one."
"Now, who 'll write up the annals of our sojourn at Mrs. Lennox's?" said Betty.
"Past or future?" queried Nan.
"Oh, past; we 'll all do the future ones when we get there."
"Let's leave the annals of the Pendered party to do after we get there, too," proposed Millicent. "We 'll have more time, and can do them better."
All agreed to this; so Hester took the book and said she'd wind up the cottage annals in short order. Which she did, with this result:
Of the merriment and laughter,
Of the jolly jokes and jesting,
Of the dream-engendering suppers,
Given by our clever Matron,
Of the boating and the bathing,
Of the games of golf and tennis,
Of the happy, fleeting moments,
Much must here be left unwritten.
But we must express our thankful-
Ness to our devoted neighbors,
Uncle Edward and Aunt Molly,
For their never-failing kindness.
And we must admit, my sisters,
That we feel a trifle saddened
As we leave the little cottage
Where so gaily we have frolicked.
Ah, the sadness of the parting,
Ah, the chaos of the packing,
Ah, the settlements unwilling
With the butcher and the grocer!
Ah, the desolated cottage,
Ah, the sad and doleful maidens,
Ah, the weeping, wailing maidens—
"There, there, Hester, stop!" cried Helen, reading over her shoulder. "Your machine has run down; it's out of gear; the spindle is broken! Stop where you are, I beg of you!"
So Hester stopped; and—would you believe it?—such a good time did those girls have at Mrs. Lennox's house that they never wrote in the "Annals" again until after they had left Blue Beach and returned to their homes.
And, besides giving them the jolliest house-party they had ever known, Mrs. Lennox not long afterward presented each of the eight with the dearest little châtelaine watch, engraved with her name and the date of the memorable visit of the Ladies Pendered.