Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus Part 16

"I can't believe that I am I," Mary said happily, as she viewed herself wonderingly in the round dressing-table mirror. She clasped her thin, childish hands impulsively together. "I wish every girl in the world had such good friends and pretty clothes as I have!"

"I hope no one has such elusive hooks and eyes on their clothes as I have," grumbled Emma Dean, who had appeared in the doorway in time to hear Mary's heartfelt remark. "I have permanently dislocated one shoulder and ruined the charming curves of both my elbows forever, in a vain, but valiant, effort to unite one miserable hook and eye, which I'm sure the dressmaker purposely sewed out of my reach."

"Poor Emma," sympathized Kathleen. "Let me help you."

Emma surrendered herself to Kathleen's deft fingers with a ludicrous gesture of resignation.

"Are all the Harlowe House girls going?" asked Kathleen.

"Yes; thanks to the juniors and seniors, not one has been left out. It is such a clear, pleasant night the campus house girls won't need carriages," answered Grace. "It is eight o'clock now. Don't you think you had better start? You go on with the girls, Emma. I'll run over some time during the evening for a few minutes."

After the merrymakers had set out for the gymnasium, Grace retired to her office to write a letter to her mother. She had hardly settled herself when the door bell rang and she heard a high, clear voice asking the maid for Miss Ward.

"Please tell her to hurry, my car is waiting," instructed the voice, as the maid ushered the newcomer into the living-room. Grace glanced through the open door of the office into the next room. In Evelyn's escort she recognized Althea Parker, one of the most sn.o.bbish girls at Overton College, and a member of the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s. Evelyn's declaration on her arrival at Overton that she intended to cultivate the richest girls in college now came back to Grace with disagreeable force.

"Good evening, Miss Harlowe," hailed Althea, as Grace rose and went forward to greet her. "We are going to be late. I hope Evelyn won't keep me waiting." There was a touch of impatience in her voice.

Even as she spoke there was a patter of light feet on the stairs, and Evelyn appeared in the doorway, her evening coat and scarf on her arm.

Grace gave an involuntary gasp of admiration, while Althea cried out openly, "Evelyn Ward, you are wonderful!"

Evelyn's violet blue eyes flashed with gratified vanity. She wore an exquisite gown of white silk and lace made in an apparently simple but very smart fashion, which revealed the pure beauty of her white throat and rounded arms, increasing her loveliness tenfold. She wore white silk stockings and white satin slippers with little rhinestone buckles. Her thick golden hair was drawn high on her head in a graceful knot and cl.u.s.tered in little curls about her temples and over her forehead, while her whole face was alive with excitement. At her corsage was an immense bunch of violets, evidently sent her by her escort.

"Shall I do?" she asked pertly, walking over to the living-room mirror for a last peep at herself.

"You look very lovely to-night," said Grace honestly.

"Thank you," she swept Grace a curtsey. A faint mocking smile played about her red lips, as though she doubted the sincerity of the remark.

Slipping on her evening coat of white broadcloth, and placing an extremely handsome scarf of white and gold over her pretty head, Evelyn walked to the door, followed by Althea Parker, who, divided between admiration of Evelyn and fear of being late, was talking rapidly in her high, excited voice.

"Good night, Miss Harlowe," she nodded.

"Oh, yes, good night," called Evelyn carelessly.

Grace leaned back in her chair and smiled at Evelyn's slightly cavalier treatment of herself. "How her sister has spoiled her," she mused. "She treats me as though I were one of the maids. To see her to-night one would be quite likely to imagine that she, rather than Miss Parker, were the richest girl in Overton."

A sudden, startled look stole into Grace's eyes. "Why, where--" She paused as though she had come upon something which did not quite please her. As a matter of fact it had recurred to her with an unpleasant jolt that Evelyn was wearing an evening gown entirely too expensive for her present circ.u.mstances. So were her evening coat, her scarf and all the dainty appointments which so perfectly matched the white silk frock.

Again she recalled that Ida Ward planned and made all her sister's gowns. Even so, she must have spent considerable money on Evelyn's evening clothes. Suppose these things were to be noticed and commented upon by the girls in the house, or by outsiders who knew nothing of the real source of Evelyn's wardrobe? Suppose some one were ill-natured enough to say that a girl who could afford such expensive gowns ought to be able to pay her own expenses and give her place in Harlowe House to some one more needy. Had not Kathleen asked how Evelyn could afford to wear such smart clothes?

Yet on the other hand, there was nothing to be done. Grace did not feel it within her province to take Evelyn to task on the subject of her wearing apparel. All she could do was to trust that what had perplexed her would pa.s.s unnoticed and uncriticized.

CHAPTER XV

A SEMPER FIDELIS REUNION

"O frabjous day!" rejoiced Emma Dean, using her bath towel as a scarf and performing a weird dance about the room. "I know I shall go chortling through my cla.s.ses this morning in a highly undignified manner. To think that dear old Semper Fidelis will hold forth again in the same old haunts! And the most beautiful part is that there will be no vacant chairs."

Emma's delight was reflected on Grace's face. It was the morning before Thanksgiving Day and the two young women were preparing to go to breakfast, full of happy antic.i.p.ation, for the various afternoon trains were to bring to them their Semper Fidelis comrades. It had all begun with Elfreda's and Mabel Ashe's promises to spend Thanksgiving at Harlowe House. Then Elfreda had persuaded Arline Thayer, whom she saw frequently in New York, to join them. Arline had written to Ruth, who had come on to New York for a long visit to her chum in time to swell the band. Elfreda had promptly written Grace that if she would see that Miriam and Anne put in an appearance at the proper moment, the Briggs Helping Hand Society would guarantee that the other members should appear at Overton on the appointed day.

"Elfreda has taken rather a large contract on her hands," Grace had said to Emma, on receiving the letter. "She evidently knows what she's doing, so I had better write to Miriam and Anne."

Miriam's promise to come had been easily obtained, but Anne was not sure of attending the Semper Fidelis reunion, until the week before Thanksgiving, when Everett Southard, who was then playing in Shakespearian repertoire in New York, obligingly arranged to give the "Taming of the Shrew" on the day before Thanksgiving, and "King Richard III" on Thanksgiving Day. As Anne did not appear in either play, her Thanksgiving freedom was a.s.sured.

And now the great day had dawned at last! There were to be recitations in the morning, but college would close at noon, not to reopen until the following Monday. The Semper Fidelis girls were to be Elfreda's guests at Vinton's that night at a six o'clock dinner. On Thanksgiving morning they were to breakfast at the Tourraine as the guests of Ruth and Arline. Thanksgiving dinner at Martell's was to be Anne's and Miriam's part of the celebration, while Thanksgiving night Emma and Grace were to be hostesses at Vinton's, their favorite rendezvous.

Grace would have dearly loved to be hostess at the Thanksgiving dinner, but she felt that her duty lay with her household. She wondered whether it would be really right for her to remain away from Harlowe House for so many meals. After long and earnest discussion, she and Emma had arranged that she would give up eating Thanksgiving dinner with her friends, while Emma cheerfully agreed to preside at the Harlowe House breakfast table on Thanksgiving morning. It was decided that Louise Sampson, of whom Grace had grown extremely fond, was the best possible person to leave in charge during their absence on Thanksgiving night, for neither Grace nor Emma felt that they could bear to miss that last gathering together of their beloved Semper Fidelis friends.

"I wonder who will be first on the scene," speculated Grace.

"Consult the time table, my child," advised Emma. "I have no time for speculation. I am starting on a hunt in darkest Deanery for my cuff links. They are tucked away in some remote corner of the Dean territory, but which corner?"

"They are in one end of your handkerchief box. I saw you put them there yesterday, you ridiculous person," laughed Grace.

"Thank you, thank you! 'One good turn deserves another,'" quoted Emma fervently. "Bring forth the fateful time table and I'll sort out the trains and the order of arrival of the clan."

"I haven't a time table," confessed Grace.

"Then we'll have to let the trains run merrily on, and the railroad do its perfect work. I'm sorry I can't pay my debt of grat.i.tude. I am always helpful. I was always helpful. I have been helpful. I would be helpful. I might have been helpful and I may yet be helpful," conjugated Emma hopefully, "but not without a time table."

"I appreciate your splendid spirit of helpfulness even though it isn't of any use at present," a.s.sured Grace satirically. "I suppose--"

A long reverberating ring of the bell cut short her remark.

The two friends exchanged questioning glances.

"It can't be one of the girls. It's only eight o'clock," was Emma's quick comment.

Grace opened the door and listened intently. Emma joined her, peering over her shoulder. Then Miss Duncan's dignified a.s.sistant in English gave an unmistakable, though subdued, war whoop, and, seizing Grace by the hand, made for the stairs. Grace needed no a.s.sistance. An instant later they brought up at the foot of the stairs and made a simultaneous rush for a tall, plump young woman, enveloping her in a tempestuous embrace.

"I might have known you'd be the first," cried Grace with joyful affection. "You must have taken a train in the middle of the night."

"I did," returned J. Elfreda Briggs calmly. "We are living in New York this winter, so Pa brought me to the station in his own pet car and saw me safely on my way. Emma Dean, you good old comrade, how are you?"

Elfreda turned from Grace to Emma.

Emma surveyed Elfreda with fond eyes. "Just now I'm overcome at seeing you, J. Elfreda. How we have missed you!" Depth of feeling for the moment checked Emma's irrepressible flow of humor. Next to Grace, in her regard, came the one-time stout girl, now merely plump and extremely attractive.

Tears flashed across J. Elfreda's eyes as she stood looking into the faces of these friends, whom she loved so truly, yet saw so seldom.

"Missing people has been my greatest cross this year," she said, her voice not quite steady. "There's no use in making a fuss, though. I'm beginning to learn that."

A brief silence fell upon the three cla.s.smates.

"Have you had your breakfast, Elfreda?" asked Grace, almost abruptly.

"Are there waffles?" counter-questioned Elfreda.