Grace Harlowe's Problem Part 21

"You know I didn't. It was affection that prompted the question." Grace reached out to pat her friend's hand. J. Elfreda caught Grace's hand in hers.

Again silence reigned. They sat gazing across the campus, their hands still joined. Grace was thinking that she could not endure telling even Elfreda of the cloud that hung over her, while J. Elfreda Briggs was registering a vow to find some means of helping Grace in spite of herself.

"I must go, Elfreda," said Grace at last, rising from the seat. "I am anxious to have dinner over a little earlier to-night on account of the dress rehearsal in Greek Hall. Let me see, who is the person to be favored with your company at dinner?"

"I'm going to take dinner at Wayne Hall with Kathleen. We'll meet at the dress rehearsal." Elfreda rose, and the two sauntered across the campus to the point where their paths diverged.

After stopping for a little chat with Mrs. Elwood, Elfreda climbed the stairs to the room at the end of the hall, where she received a most vociferous welcome from Kathleen and Patience. But the moment they settled down to conversation Elfreda said solemnly, "Girls, something is breaking Grace Harlowe's proud heart. Emma knows, but she is Grace's only confidante. I asked Grace point blank, this afternoon, to tell me, but she wouldn't. It has something to do with that Miss Wharton, the new dean. Whatever it is, you know, as well as I, that Grace isn't likely to be in the wrong. If I were going to stay here at Overton, a little longer, I'd find out all about it."

"You could see," murmured Patience.

"Yes, I could," declared Elfreda with a good-natured grin. "But so long as I can't be here to see, I'm going to pa.s.s the job along to you, Kathleen. I'm sure that if any one can find out the cause of poor Grace's woes it will be you. Go after it and run it down just as you would a big story, and if you can find and kill the wicked monster and make the princess happy again, well, there isn't anything that J.

Elfreda Briggs won't do for you."

"I'll do it," vowed Kathleen, setting her sharp little chin at a resolute angle.

"You can't lose much time, either. College closes the second week in June," reminded Elfreda.

"Trust me to find out before that time."

Having disposed of this important matter, J. Elfreda's gravity vanished and she became her usual funny self again. The three girls had a merry time together and set off for the dress rehearsal in high spirits.

When they reached Greek Hall they found that Grace and Arline had already arrived and were sitting far back in the hall watching a s.e.xtette of girls in smart white linen skirts, blue serge coats and straw hats, banded with blue ribbon, who were down on the programme for a song ent.i.tled "Our Fraternity Friends," the number ending with a gay little dance taught them by Hilda Moore.

"Aren't they clever?" asked Grace eagerly, turning to Kathleen. The three young women had made their way to where she was seated. "They only began practicing that dance last week. Miss Moore taught them. She dances beautifully."

The rehearsal proceeded without a hitch. Arline and Elfreda, being sure of themselves, did not take part in it. Kathleen West's clever one-act play, "In the Days of Shakespeare," was worthy of her genius. It presented the scene from the "Taming of the Shrew," where Petruchio ridicules Katherine's gown and berates the tailor. This scene was enacted in accordance with the Elizabethan age, when the n.o.bility were permitted to take seats on the stage with the actors, the latter being obliged to step around and over that part of the audience in order to make their entrances and exits. These favored n.o.bles had also the privilege of expressing freely their opinions of the merits of the long-suffering mummers, which they usually did in a loud voice. Kathleen had made a careful study of the conditions prevailing in the theatre at that period, and the little play was most mirth provoking from beginning to end.

Mary Reynolds had also scored in the pathetic playlet, "The Freshman on the Top Floor," depicting a lonely little girl whose poverty and diffidence kept her out of the carefree college life that went on in the house where she lived. Cecil Ferris essayed the role of the freshman.

The last number on the programme was Jean Brent's solo. After considerable coaxing Louise had persuaded her to sing, and Gertrude Earle accompanied her on the piano. Grace felt her brief resentment against the girl vanish as she listened to her glorious voice which had a suspicion of tragedy in it.

There was a certain amount of lingering on the part of the performers to talk over the success of the dress rehearsal, but at last they all trooped across the campus to Harlowe House.

By curious chance Evelyn Ward found herself walking directly behind Jean Brent. She had been greatly affected by her singing. Obeying a sudden impulse, she leaned forward and touched Jean's arm. "Can't we be friends again, Jean," she said wistfully. "I--I love your voice, and I care so much for you. There isn't much of the year left and----"

Jean's blue eyes grew strangely soft. "It was all my fault," she said huskily. "Let's begin over again, Evelyn." And under the stars they made a new and truer covenant.

CHAPTER XXII

FIGHTING LOYALHEART'S BATTLE

The revue was an unqualified success. Greek Hall was filled to overflowing, and the money fairly poured into the box office for the Harlowe House fund. There was a general rejoicing the next day among the performers, and the same night a social session was held in the living room at Harlowe House. To Grace it seemed as though she had been wafted back once more to the dear dead days when the Sempers had held forth.

The presence of Arline and Elfreda was the last touch needed to complete the illusion, and she went about her work feeling happier than she had for a long time. Even the shadow cast upon her heart by Tom's absence seemed less gloomy.

But on the heels of her brief elation trod disaster. Miss Wharton had chosen to become highly incensed because she had not been consulted in regard to the holding of the entertainment, and the long-suspended sword fell. The revue had been given on Wednesday evening, and on Friday morning Jean had received a note summoning her to Miss Wharton's office.

This time Miss Wharton intended to interview the two young women separately. She believed that Jean would reveal what she had hitherto kept a secret if Grace were not present. With unreasonable prejudice she chose to place the brunt of Jean's refusal to speak upon Grace's shoulders.

Jean obeyed the summons and came away from Overton Hall with a white, set face. Almost the first person she encountered on the campus was Evelyn, who was hurrying to one of her cla.s.ses, and in her anguish of mind she poured forth the whole bitter story to her roommate.

"Oh, Jean, why didn't you tell me this before," cried Evelyn. "I never knew until the night of the dress rehearsal that things were not going smoothly for Miss Harlowe. Kathleen West told me in confidence that something was wrong, and asked me to find out anything I could concerning it and let her know. We must go straight to her and tell her everything. She can help us if any one can. Just for once I'll cut my English recitation. Come on. Oh, I do hope Kathleen is at home."

But Kathleen was not at Wayne Hall, and after some parleying the two girls concluded to wait until she returned from her cla.s.ses to her luncheon. It was ten o'clock when they rang the bell of the college house where Grace had spent four happy years, and for the next hour and a half they waited in an agony of suspense. When Kathleen arrived they hurried her off to her room and proceeded to acquaint her with all the facts in their possession concerning the misfortune so soon to overtake Grace.

Kathleen listened to them without comment. When they had finished talking she asked one sharp question, "Do you know Miss Wilder's address?"

Neither girl knew it, but Evelyn was seized with a bright idea. "Hilda Moore knows it. I am sure she does."

"Then hurry to Overton Hall and get it from her," ordered Kathleen. "I'm going to send a telegram. Are you sure Miss Wharton hasn't sent for Grace yet?"

"Yes, yes. She said she intended to send for Miss Harlowe to-morrow morning. Evidently she has a reason of her own for not sending for her to-day," was Jean's eager response. "But she is going to report us to President Morton and the Board within the next day or so."

"Good-bye. I'll be back directly." Evelyn dashed out of the room and down the stairs on her errand.

Twenty minutes later she returned. "Here it is," she handed it to the newspaper girl.

Kathleen had not taken off her hat since her arrival at Wayne Hall.

"Come on, girls," she said. "You must go home and have your luncheon.

Just leave everything to me. I think I can promise Miss Wharton a surprise."

"What did she say to you, Jean?" asked Evelyn as they left Kathleen at the corner, headed for the telegraph office, and went on to Harlowe House.

"What didn't she say. She is going to send me away if she can. I told her everything, but it only made matters worse. I said over and over again that Miss Harlowe was not to blame, but she grew harder every minute. How I despise her." Jean shuddered with disgust. "All this is merely an excuse to oust Miss Harlowe. Why she doesn't like her, goodness knows. What is Miss West going to do, I wonder?"

"Telegraph Miss Wilder for one thing. Still, she can't write or come here in time to save Miss Harlowe," declared Evelyn. "Hilda knows about it. She said Miss Wharton dictated a perfectly horrid letter to Mrs.

Gray, too, about Miss Harlowe this morning."

"Oh, dear," half sobbed Jean. "It's dreadful, and it's all my fault."

Evelyn did not answer. She could not help feeling that Jean deserved this bitter moment.

"Shall you tell Miss Harlowe?" asked Evelyn as they hurriedly ascended the steps.

Jean nodded.

When they entered the dining room, for luncheon they learned to their utter consternation that Grace had gone for the day to visit a cla.s.smate in Westbrook and would not return until after dinner that night. In the meantime Kathleen West had hurried to the telegraph office and despatched the following message to Miss Wilder. "Wire President Morton, delay action, charges made by Miss Wharton against Grace Harlowe, until word from you. Letter will follow. Answer. Kathleen West."

"There," she chuckled when she heard the tap of the operator's machine, "that will help a little. Never mind the expense."

She was late to luncheon, and therefore missed Patience, but toward the close of the afternoon they met, and Kathleen took her into her confidence. All evening the two girls remained in the living room listening intently for the ring of the bell that might mean an answer to Kathleen's urgent message. At ten minutes to nine Kathleen said wearily.

"It's too late to hear to-night. The telegraph office closes at nine o'clock. The answer will come in the morning. Even as she spoke, the door bell rang loudly. Pale and trembling with suspense, she herself answered the door. Hastily signing the messenger boy's book she closed the door on his retreating back and returned to the living room, nervously tearing open the envelope as she walked. Then she cried out in surprise.

"What is it?" questioned Patience in alarm.

Kathleen held out to her the disquieting bit of yellow paper. "Don't be frightened. It's good news. See." Patience read over her shoulder.