Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus Part 20

"How can she?" demanded Grace. "I had nothing to do with it."

"Yes, but you rode down to New York City on the same train and in the same seat with her. She is quite likely to tell the registrar that you countenanced her going even though Miss Sheldon didn't."

"Oh, she couldn't!" burst forth Grace.

"Why couldn't she?" demanded Emma.

Grace shook her head.

"I think you are a trifle hard on her, Emma. I know she is selfish, but I don't believe she is malicious."

"I wish I had your faith in people, Grace," said Emma sincerely. "You always believe them honest until they prove themselves villains, don't you?"

When the next afternoon, Grace received a curt note from Miss Sheldon asking her to come to her office at five o'clock, Emma's prophesy loomed large before her.

"It must be something else," reflected the troubled house mother, as she prepared for her call on Miss Sheldon. Once in the registrar's office, a quick glance at the older woman's face, set in lines of annoyance, was enough to convince Grace that Emma's conjecture had been only too true.

Evelyn had in some way managed to make her a party to her disobedience.

"Good afternoon, Miss Harlowe," said Miss Sheldon stiffly. There was no trace of her usual friendly manner. "I sent for you this afternoon for the purpose of clearing up any misunderstanding you may have in regard to your authority here at Overton. The students in the various houses are in every instance subject to the rules of Overton College, and it is the purpose of the faculty to see that these rules are enforced. You have no authority to grant a student leave of absence, particularly after that permission has been refused by me."

Then there followed a further sharp reprimand to which Grace listened gravely, her calm, gray eyes never for an instant leaving Miss Sheldon's face. Something in the younger woman's composure had its effect upon the registrar, who, on first seeing Grace, had allowed her displeasure free rein. She looked searchingly into the quiet face before her and said more gently, "Perhaps I should have asked you to tell me your side of the story, before condemning you, Miss Harlowe."

Ah, so there was another side of the story! It was apparently as Emma had said.

Tears of hurt pride burned behind Grace's eyes, but they never fell.

With a brave effort she steadied her voice. "I do not know what has been said to you, Miss Sheldon, but I do know that I have never given any girl at Harlowe House leave of absence from Overton. I would not presume to do so. I hope I understand the limit of my authority too clearly to overstep it."

"Then you did not take Miss Ward with you to New York City last Friday afternoon?"

"Miss Ward was with me on the train and shared my seat, but until I met her in the station I had not the remotest idea that she intended to go.

I dislike to tell you this, Miss Sheldon, but since you have asked me this question I can only tell you the truth."

"I am sorry I spoke so hastily, Miss Harlowe," apologized Miss Sheldon, "but I was greatly displeased. I have sent for Miss Ward. Will you wait until she comes? You need not unless you wish to do so."

"Thank you," said Grace, a shade of offended dignity in her voice, "but I must go back to Harlowe House. It is almost dinner time. Good evening, Miss Sheldon."

Once outside Overton Hall her composure took wings and she brushed the thick-gathering tears from her eyes as she hurried blindly across the snow-covered campus in the gray twilight. She was still smarting under the hurt of the registrar's sharp words. It was unspeakably humiliating to be told that she had overstepped her authority. She had thought that Miss Sheldon knew her too well for that. It merely served to show how little one knew persons, she reflected bitterly. As for Evelyn, the angry color dyed Grace's cheeks afresh as she thought of the girl's treachery, and she made a resentful vow that Evelyn Ward should not be admitted to Harlowe House for her soph.o.m.ore year.

The brisk walk across the campus in the crisp winter air cooled her anger, and by the time she had reached the house she felt her resentment, in a measure, vanishing.

"You were right, Emma," she announced as she walked into their room where Emma sat plodding laboriously through her weekly mending.

"About Evelyn?"

"Yes."

Emma finished the sleeve of the blouse she was mending with a flourish.

Then, casting a swift, upward glance at Grace, she began singing dolorously.

"Mend, mend, mend, On the waist that's weary and worn.

St.i.tch, st.i.tch, st.i.tch, Each tatter so jagged and torn.

Collar and cuffs and sleeves, Cobble and darn and baste, Before they gape in a ghastly row, And shriek the dirge of the waist."

Grace's gloomy expression changed to a faint smile which broadened as Emma's chant went on. At the end of the verse she laughed outright.

"I couldn't be sad for long with you about, Emma," she said affectionately. "How can you think of such funny things on the spur of the moment?"

"Oh, I don't know," drawled Emma. "Tell me about everything, Gracious."

"I will," nodded Grace, "but I must run downstairs to the kitchen for a minute. I'll be back directly."

It was fifteen minutes before she returned. Emma had finished her mending and was on her knees before the chiffonier putting her waists away.

"Now I'll tell you," began Grace.

Emma turned her head to listen, but before Grace had time to begin the door was flung violently open and Evelyn Ward rushed in, her blue eyes bright with anger. "How could you tell Miss Sheldon that I didn't go to New York with you? You could have helped me and she wouldn't have said a word to Miss Wilder. Now I shall be expelled from college and it is all your fault. You are--"

At this juncture, however, Emma Dean took a hand. Without giving Grace an opportunity to say a word she marched over to the excited Evelyn.

"Miss Ward, leave this room instantly, and do not come into it again until you have asked Miss Harlowe to pardon you."

In contrast to Evelyn's half-screamed denunciation Emma's voice was low and even, but it vibrated with stern command.

"I--she--" began Evelyn, but the look in Emma's eyes was too much for her. With a half-sobbing cry of anger she rushed from the room.

CHAPTER XIX

AN UNINTENTIONAL LISTENER

"Delightful young person," commented Emma dryly, as the resounding slam of the door echoed through the room.

Grace walked slowly over to the chair which she had been occupying when Evelyn had made her tempestuous entrance, and sat down. There was a brief silence, then, "Do you suppose Miss Wilder will send Evelyn home?"

"Grace, you aren't going to try to intercede for that hateful girl after this," Emma's tones quivered with vexation.

"I don't know. I suppose it wouldn't be of much use. Miss Wilder won't tolerate out and out disobedience. I--yes, Emma, I'm going to see if I can save her. I'm going now."

Grace sprang from her chair and began slipping into her wraps.

Emma eyed her moodily, struggling between approval and disapproval, but saying nothing.

"Good-bye, dear," called Grace over her shoulder as she hurried out the door. "I'm afraid I'll be late for dinner. Don't wait for me."

Outside the house she paused, glanced toward Overton Hall, then set off in the opposite direction toward Miss Wilder's home.

"I hope she's at home," was Grace's anxious thought as she rang the bell.