Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College Part 1

Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College.

by Jessie Graham Flower.

CHAPTER I

A SEMPER FIDELIS LUNCHEON

"The skies must smile and the sun must shine When Semper Fidelis goes out to dine,"

sang Arline Thayer joyously as she rearranged her sofa pillows for the eighth time, patting each one energetically before placing it, then stepping back to view the effect. "Aren't you glad every one's here, and things have begun to happen again, Ruth?" she asked blithely. "I hope no one disappoints us. I wish this room were larger. Still, it held eighteen girls one night last year. Don't you remember my Hallowe'en party, and what a time we had squeezing in here?"

"It is so good in Mrs. Kane to let us have the dining room with Mary to serve the oysters," said Ruth. "We never could do things properly up here."

"I know it. Oysters are such slippery old things, even on the half sh.e.l.l," returned Arline, who was not specially fond of them. "Let me see. The girls will be here at four o'clock. We are to have oysters, soup, a meat course, salad and dessert. That makes five different courses in five different houses. It will be eight o'clock before we reach the dessert. I am glad that is to be served in Grace's room. We always have a good time at Wayne Hall."

To the readers of "Grace Harlowe's First Year at Overton College," "Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College"

and "Grace Harlowe's Third Year at Overton College," Grace Harlowe and her various intimate a.s.sociates have become familiar figures. Those who made her acquaintance, together with that of her three friends, Nora O'Malley, Jessica Bright and Anne Pierson, during her high school days will recall with pleasure the many eventful happenings of these four happy years as set forth in "Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School," "Grace Harlowe's Soph.o.m.ore Year at High School," "Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School" and "Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High School."

The September following the graduation of the four friends from high school had seen their paths diverge widely, for Nora and Jessica had entered an eastern conservatory of music, while Anne and Grace, after due deliberation, had decided upon Overton College. Miriam Nesbit, of Oakdale fame, had entered college with them, and the trio of friends had spent three eventful years at Overton.

"It is time we gathered home," grumbled Arline. "I have hardly seen Grace or any of the Semper Fidelis girls this week. They have all been so popular that they haven't given a thought to their neglected little friends."

"Let me see," returned Ruth slyly. "How many nights have you stayed quietly at home this week?"

"Not one, you rascal," retorted Arline, laughing. "I ought to be the last one to grumble. But in spite of all the rush, I have missed the dear old quartette."

"So have I," declared Ruth earnestly. "Twenty minutes to four. They will soon be here."

"Yes. I asked Grace to come as early as possible," said Arline. "There, I hear the bell now." Arline whisked out of the room and peered anxiously over the bal.u.s.ter. "h.e.l.lo, Grace," she called joyously. "Hurry as fast as ever you can. Where are your faithful three?"

"I came on ahead," laughed Grace. "I had promised you that I would, and being a person of my word, I didn't wish to disappoint you. When I left Wayne Hall Miriam was playing maid to Elfreda. The new gown she had made for the luncheon didn't arrive until the last minute. So Miriam stayed to help her dress. It is a perfectly darling gown. Just wait until you see Elfreda in it. She hasn't gained an ounce since she went home last spring. She has had a strenuous time all summer to keep her weight down.

You must ask her to tell you about it."

"I will," promised Arline, with an antic.i.p.atory smile. "But where is Anne?"

"I left Anne finishing a letter to her mother. She will be here with Miriam and Elfreda. Isn't it splendid to think you and Ruth can be together this year?"

Grace ran lightly up the stairs in Arline's wake, and a moment later greeted Ruth with outstretched hands.

"Take the seat of honor, Grace," directed Arline, gently propelling her toward her best leather upholstered armchair. "Isn't it obliging of the weather to stay so nice and warm? We don't need hats or coats. You were sensible and didn't wear either. Not having to bother with wraps will save time, too."

"I am highly impressed with this house-to-house luncheon," declared Grace. "It was clever in you to suggest it, Arline."

"Oh, these progressive luncheons are nothing new," returned Arline quickly. "I have read that they are extremely popular among college and high school girls. I am sure I don't know why I never before proposed that we give one. It is going to be lots of fun, isn't it? There's the bell again. I hope that maid hasn't gone on a vacation. It usually takes her forever." Arline darted out of the room to hang over the bal.u.s.ter once more.

This time it was the Emerson twins, and by four o'clock the last member of the club had taken her place beside her sisters in Arline's room.

"As we are all here," announced Arline, "we might as well begin. The feast awaits you downstairs in the dining room; that is, a very small part of it. There is one beautiful feature about this luncheon, we are to have plenty of exercise between each course. Are all of you hungry?"

There was a lively chorus of affirmatives.

"Then choose your partners and come along," ordered the little curly-haired girl.

It did not take long to dispose of the oysters, and, headed by Sara and Julia Emerson, the little procession of girls moved on to Ralston House, where the twins were to play hostess and serve the soup.

"You can thank your stars and me that you don't have to squeeze into our room and eat your soup from cups instead of Mrs. Bryant's best soup plates," Julia informed her guests as they swarmed up the steps. "Mrs.

Bryant couldn't see this luncheon at first. She had no appreciation of what a really important affair it was to be. I had to use all my persuasive powers on her. But I won, and she descended to the kitchen and made the soup herself."

"I think we owe Julia a special vote of thanks," declared Miriam Nesbit a little later, as she finished her soup. "This vermicelli soup is the best I ever tasted."

"It can't be beaten, can it?" asked Sara Emerson eagerly. "That was why we were so anxious to take the soup course on our shoulders. We knew what was in store for us if we could make Mrs. Bryant see things in our light."

"S-h-h, she's coming!" warned Julia. "For goodness' sake, Sara, be careful."

Mrs. Bryant, a rather austere person and not in the least like her sister, Mrs. Elwood, who managed Wayne Hall, walked into the dining room at this juncture, apparently in the best of humors.

Arline glanced inquiringly at Grace, who nodded slightly, whereupon the dainty president of the Semper Fidelis Club rose and made the matron a pretty little speech of thanks in behalf of the club. Then the luncheon party started on their way again, Mrs. Bryant hospitably seeing them to the door and extending a smiling invitation to come again.

"I knew she couldn't resist us," chuckled Sara Emerson, as the girls filed down the walk. "A combination like ours is safe to make its way anywhere. Come on, Marian and Elizabeth, you are the hostesses now.

Shall we head for Livingstone Hall?"

"No, indeed," smiled Marian. "Bess and I are not so lucky. It is Vinton's for ours. But we can a.s.sure you that you won't be disappointed in the layout."

One of the features of the luncheon was the fact that no one knew until the moment of serving what the various courses were to be. When it was discovered that Marian and Elizabeth had ordered fried chicken, for which Vinton's was famous, with potatoes au gratin and tiny French peas, there was general rejoicing. It took the better part of an hour to eat these good things, and the guests, feeling that they were on familiar ground, enjoyed themselves hugely.

"Oh, dear!" groaned Elfreda, "I know I have gained a pound since I started out this afternoon. I haven't eaten so much at one time for ages. There is still the salad and dessert to come. I can't possibly miss either one of them."

"Never mind, Elfreda," soothed Emma Dean; "we won't invite you to the next luncheon, then you can----"

"Just try leaving me out and see what happens," retorted Elfreda threateningly. "You may find yourself locked in your room on that self-same day with the key missing."

"Be good, both of you," admonished Miriam, "or I'll see that neither of you get any dessert."

"Grace and Anne wouldn't be so mean," returned Elfreda with supreme self-a.s.surance.

"How could we blast such touching faith?" laughed Anne.

"There, what did I tell you?" asked Elfreda, turning triumphant eyes on Emma. "Now, leave me out if you dare."

"I don't dare. I don't want to," declared Emma affably. "I was merely trying to be pleasant and helpful. If you were not invited to the spread, naturally you wouldn't eat, and if you didn't eat, then you wouldn't have to worry about that extra pound. It is all very simple."

"Very!" agreed Elfreda, with such scathing emphasis that the exchange of words ended in a general giggle at Emma's expense.

"Now that you've all finished laughing at me," she declared good-naturedly, "I hereby invite all of you, even Elfreda, to Martell's for the salad, which is my part of the ceremony."

"Oh, goody, it's Waldorf!" exclaimed Elfreda delightedly, as, seated about the big corner table at Martell's, perhaps twenty minutes later, they saw the salad brought on. "You knew what we liked, didn't you, Emma?"