Originally Published: June 12, 1905
Genres: Fiction
Dime Novel Bibliography: https://dimenovels.org/Item/505/Show
Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/201398705-the-bride-of-the-tomb-and-queenie-s-terrible-secret
Gutenberg link: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42100
Chapters: 43
Warning: This may include outdated and derogatory language and attitudes.
CHAPTER I
"There is positively not a dollar left to buy a dress for Queenie and yet she will insist upon going to the ball. Could you let me have your old green silk to make over for her, Sydney?"
The small figure perched on the top of a large Saratoga trunk sprang down upon the floor and stamped her foot so vehemently that the blue satin bow flew off from her tiny slipper.
"Wear Sydney's old green silk to the ball!" cried Queenie, indignantly. "Indeed I won't, Mamma, I will stay at home first!"
"The best place for you," said her sister, Sydney, calmly. "I see no use in taking a child like you to Mrs. Kirk's grand ball."
"A child, indeed," flashed the younger sister, with a pout of her rosebud lips. "I am as tall as you, Syd, and I was seventeen yesterday. It's real mean to call me a child and leave me at home every time I get invited out. I know why it is, though. It's because Mamma spends every dollar Papa gives her decking out you and Georgie, and there's never a decent thing left for me to wear."
"It is because you are too pretty, my dear," laughed her father, who had entered the dressing-room unnoticed. "The girls keep you back because they are afraid you will cut them out with their fine beaux."
Sydney and Georgina flushed angrily and muttered that it wasn't so and that Papa ought to be ashamed of himself—it was all his fault that Queenie was setting herself up for a woman so fast when he couldn't afford to dress the two that were already grown decently enough for the position they had to fill in society.
The poor, worried mother, having been so quickly snubbed on the subject of the old green silk, looked on and said nothing.
"I give you every cent I can spare from my business, girls," said Mr. Lyle, in a vexed tone, "and this time I strained a point and pinched myself in order that little Queenie might have a new dress and go to the ball, too."
"But they have spent every cent upon themselves!" cried pretty little Queenie with the tears of vexation standing in her pansy-blue eyes. "The dressing-room is littered all over with their finery yet they want me to wear that horrid green silk of Syd's! A pretty fright I should look!"
"Never mind, dear, you can stay at home with your old papa. Your time will come after a while when the girls are married and out of the way," said her father kindly, as he drew his arm about her. "Maybe it is true that I have spoiled you, dear, and that you are too young to go to such a grand ball."
"No, I am not, Papa. I am quite old enough, and I know how to dance, and I love to dance, and I will go to the ball," exclaimed the pretty, willful little creature, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
"But, Queenie, what on earth will you wear?" asked the poor, tired mother, who was quite worn out with the worry of keeping herself and her two elder girls well-dressed. "I have no money to give you a new dress."
Queenie stood meditating, with her head perched on one side like a little bird, her slender, arched brows puckered into a thoughtful frown.
"I'll tell you," said she at length, "I shall sell my painted fan—the white satin one that Uncle Rob sent me from Paris. It is worth fifteen dollars at least, and I can certainly get five for it. Five dollars will buy lots of white tarleton, and I can make the dress myself. There are plenty of flowers in the garden, so you see I can make a toilet for the ball," she added, half laughing.
"Sell Uncle Rob's gift!" cried Mamma and the girls in concert.
"Necessity knows no law!" answered Queenie, dancing out of the room to avoid their remonstrances.
"Mr. Lyle, you really should not allow her to sell her uncle's beautiful gift!" exclaimed Mrs. Lyle, in a vexed tone.
"I certainly shall not try to prevent her," answered her husband, rather shortly. "If you had acted fairly by her and divided the money I gave you for the three girls she need not have been driven to such straits as to sell her pretty fan. Why, I gave you a hundred dollars, and she only wants five for her dress. You might have spared her that small pittance!"
"I did not think she would be contented with such a shabby dress," muttered Mrs. Lyle.
"Queenie only wants to enjoy herself," said the fond father. "She will be as beautiful and as happy in her five-dollar tarleton as Georgie and Sydney in their elegant silks."
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