Blue Bonnet in Boston Part 59

Blue Bonnet, after her week at Woodford, found it difficult to accustom herself to the strict discipline, the regular hours, the stated duties that awaited her at school.

"I feel as if I'd been sailing in an airship and had just got back to earth," she said to Annabel Jackson who was diligently pursuing a French lesson. "How _can_ you dig in that way, Annabel, after all the exciting times you had at home? I can't! I'd like to drop this old geometry into the Red Sea."

"I've _got_ to dig," Annabel replied complacently. "It isn't such an easy thing to graduate from Miss North's as some people think. I've earned every inch of the little sheepskin I'll carry home next June, I can tell you--if I'm lucky enough to get it."

Blue Bonnet stifled a yawn.

"Oh, you'll get it, Annabel. You're a shark at lessons. What are you going to do next year?"

Annabel looked out of the window dreamily.

"I don't know yet. Mother has given me the choice between a year's travel and a college course. Father wants me to come home and renew my acquaintance with the family. I think--perhaps--I'll take his advice.

This is the fourth year I've been away. A long time, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is! Will you go into society? Have a coming-out party and all that?"

"I hardly think so. In the South we don't come out; we grow out! I can't remember when I went to my first party; along with my dolls, I reckon."

"I suppose that's why you are always so at ease in company. You aren't the least bit self conscious."

Annabel closed her book and stealing over to Blue Bonnet put an arm about her lovingly.

"Flatterer!" she said.

"No such thing. I never flatter. I admire you awfully! You know I do."

"Thank you, Blue Bonnet. I believe you mean it. You're the most truthful person I know. Now! There's a compliment for you."

Arm in arm the girls left the study hall where they had lingered over their books after cla.s.s had been dismissed. This friendship, which had promised so much in the beginning, grew steadily. Annabel loved the sincere, upright Western girl; and Blue Bonnet had found all the sweet fine qualities that abounded in Annabel's nature. There are moments, living as intimately as boarding-school girls live, when the mask that hides selfishness, hypocrisy and petty jealousy, slips away, revealing the true nature. To Blue Bonnet's somewhat critical eye, Annabel had measured up under all circ.u.mstances; and Annabel had found Blue Bonnet as fair and loyal, as honest and just, as was possible in this world where human frailties so often tip the scale in the balance.

At the top of the stairs the girls paused.

"Are you busy for the next half hour, Blue Bonnet?" Annabel asked.

"No, not very. Why?"

"I thought maybe you'd run over some accompaniments for me. Miss North has insisted upon my singing Sunday night when she has that little tea for the ill.u.s.trious Alfred Noyes, who is going to read some of his poems to us."

"Of course. I'd love to."

Annabel had a splendid voice; one that might have given her fame had she chosen to cultivate it for a profession. It was a deep rich mezzo-soprano, and under Mrs. White's training she had acquired good enunciation, poise and taste.

Blue Bonnet opened the music and ran her fingers lightly over the keys.

She had a soft, velvety touch that made her accompaniments a delight.

She was in great demand among the girls who sang, and she specially loved to play for Annabel.

"Annabel has something--I don't know what--" she once said to Mrs.

White; and Mrs. White had finished the sentence for her.

"Temperament, my dear; a gift of the G.o.ds! Annabel is naturally emotional. It is her Southern heritage. When she sings she _feels_; that is what you recognize and can't explain."

Blue Bonnet was strongly akin to Annabel in the qualities that made for success in music and a strong affinity strengthened the friendship. They were alike--and yet vastly different. Annabel was emotional without being impulsive; her emotions were well concealed, veiled from the public eye, while Blue Bonnet's rose and fell like a tide; completely submerging her at times--often embarra.s.sing her. Blue Bonnet was sunny and optimistic; Annabel had a little pessimistic streak in her that was often mistaken for contrariness, and she lacked the spontaneity that was Blue Bonnet's chief charm. Blue Bonnet could laugh and cry in a breath.

When Annabel wept there was a deluge; it took days to get back to the old light-heartedness.

"Let's have a game of tennis," Blue Bonnet suggested when they had finished practising. "I've got to exercise. If I keep on gaining weight I'll be able to wear Wee's clothes without the slightest difficulty."

Annabel, who inclined to physical laziness, scorned exercise always.

"Oh, Blue Bonnet, you know I loathe it! Get Patty--she's so expert it makes it worth while to play. I'm no match for you."

Blue Bonnet glanced at Annabel's tiny hands and feet, and laughed.

"You weren't made for athletics, Annabel. You're put up wrong--architecturally."

"Praise be!"

At the foot of the stairs the girls separated. Blue Bonnet was off for her game of tennis and Annabel for a walk in the Park.

"See you later," Blue Bonnet called. "If you love me awfully you might make me a cup of tea when I get in. I'll be ravenous! Take a look in my shirtwaist box. I think you'll find some crackers and ginger snaps in the right-hand corner. Good-by!"

Annabel promised, and an hour later when Blue Bonnet returned, flushed and radiant after a stiff game with Patty, she found the kettle boiling and a general air of domesticity reigning in her friend's comfortable quarters. Annabel nodded from the depths of a chair and went on with instructions to Ruth, who was changing pictures on the wall.

"Cleaning?" Blue Bonnet asked, throwing down her racket and dropping in a heap on the couch. "Whew! I gave Patty a run to-day. What's the matter with the Princess Louise?"

"Ruth had her between that Madonna and the Princeton chap and it got on my nerves," Annabel complained. "The frames screamed at each other, anyway. I can't stand gold and ebony and oak in a medley. A little lower, Ruth. You know it must be on a level with your eyes. That's better! She'll be happier there and so shall I. I'm terribly fussy. I feel about pictures as I do about books. They have a right to an environment. I couldn't any more stand Shakespeare up beside a best seller than I could fly. How did your game come out?"

Blue Bonnet's eyes danced.

"I beat Patty all hollow--six love!"

"Six love! Really? Why, that's splendid! Keep on and you'll make a record."

"I expect to."

Blue Bonnet drank her tea hastily and began making apologies.

"Sorry to have to run," she said, gathering up her belongings, "but I've an important engagement."

"Junior spread committee, I suppose," Annabel ventured, but Blue Bonnet was already out of the door and on her way to Wee Watts' room.

Wee was cross. Blue Bonnet scented trouble in the atmosphere instantly.

"We've waited this meeting for you twenty minutes, Blue Bonnet, and it's very important. We've decided on a play and you have the leading part."

"I--a leading part? How ridiculous! I never acted in my life."

"Then it's time you began. You don't know what you've missed. You play Oonah, an Irish girl who comes under the spell of the fairies. It's a perfectly sweet part--you'll love it! There are a lot of good parts, and we're wild to begin rehearsals. Isn't it a shame that Angela is a Senior? There's a wonderful part that she could do--a young poet called Aillel, who makes a great sacrifice."