Grace Harlowe's Sophomore Year at High School Part 29

The man who had carried her to the house came forward.

"My name is Hampton, miss. I am a guard over at the asylum. Those other men you saw are employed there, too. We were looking for one of our people who escaped night before last. He nearly killed his keeper. He's the worst patient we have out there. Thinks he's Napoleon. Judging from your fright, I guess you must have met him. Did you really lock him in that old house?"

"Indeed I did," answered Grace, who was rapidly recovering from the effects of her fright. "He took me for the Empress Josephine." She related all that had happened, ending with the way she locked his emperorship in.

"Well, all I've got to say is that you're the pluckiest girl I ever came across," said the man admiringly, when Grace had finished.

But she shook her head.

"I never was so frightened in my life before. I shall never forget his screams."

It was after eight o'clock when Grace Harlowe arrived at her own door. The man Hampton had insisted on calling a carriage, so Grace rode home in state. As she neared the house she saw that the lawn and porch were full of people.

"What on earth is the matter!" she asked herself. As she alighted from the carriage her mother rushed forward and took her in her arms.

"My darling child," she sobbed. "What a narrow escape you have had. You must never, never wander off alone again."

"Why, mother, how did you know anything about it?"

"When you didn't come home to supper I felt worried, for you had not told me that you were invited anywhere. Then Nora came down to see you, and seemed surprised not to find you at home. She said you had gone on a specimen hunt after school. I became frightened and sent your father out at once to look for you. He met the keepers with that dreadful man," said Mrs. Harlowe, shuddering, "and they described you, telling him where you were and how they had met you. Your father went straight out to the Forrests. I suppose you just missed him."

Grace hugged her mother tenderly. "Don't worry, mother. I'm all right.

What are all these people standing around for?"

"They came to see you, of course. The news is all over town. Everyone is devoured with curiosity to hear your story."

"It looks as though I had become a celebrity at last," laughed Grace.

She was obliged to tell the story of her adventure over and over again that night to her eager listeners. Her chums hung about her adoringly.

Hippy, Reddy and David were fairly beside themselves.

"Oh, you lunatic s.n.a.t.c.her," cried Hippy, throwing up his hat to express his feelings.

"You never dreamed that the little key you gave me would prove my salvation," said Grace to David, as her friends bade her good night. "It surely must have been fate."

CHAPTER XXIV

COMMENCEMENT

Examinations had ceased to be bug-bears and kill joys to the young idea of Oakdale. The last paper had been looked over, and the anxious hearts of the majority of the High School pupils had been set at rest. In most cases there was general rejoicing over the results of the final test. Marks were compared and plans for the next year's course of study discussed.

The juniors were about to come into their own. When the present seniors had been handed their diplomas, and Miss Thompson and Mr. Cole had wished them G.o.d-speed, the present juniors would start on the home stretch that ended in commencement, and a vague awakening to the real duties of life.

The senior cla.s.s stood for the time being in the limelight of public attention. It was the observed of all observers. Teas were given in honor of its various members, and bevies of young girls in dainty summer apparel brightened the streets of Oakdale, during the long sunny afternoons.

It was truly an eventful week. Grace Harlowe gave a tea in honor of Ethel Post, which was a marked social success. The two girls had become thoroughly well acquainted over their golf and had received great benefit from each other's society. Miss Post's calm philosophical view of life had a quieting effect on impulsive Grace, while Grace's energy and whole-hearted way of diving into things proved a stimulus to the older girl.

It was Tuesday afternoon and cla.s.s day. High School girls in gala attire were seen hurrying up the broad walk leading to the main door of the school building.

It was the day of all days, to those about to graduate. Of course, receiving one's diploma was the most important feature, but cla.s.s day lay nearest the heart.

The exercises were to be held in the gymnasium.

The junior and senior cla.s.ses had brought in half the woods to beautify the big room, and Oakdale gardens had been ruthlessly forced to give up their wealth of bud and bloom in honor of the occasion.

It was customary for the seniors to invite the junior cla.s.s, who always sat in a body at one side of the gymnasium; while the seniors sat on the opposite side. The rest of the s.p.a.ce was given up to the families of the seniors and their friends. Lucky, indeed, were those who could obtain an invitation to this most characteristic of cla.s.s functions.

The four girl chums had been among the fortunate recipients of invitations. A very pretty picture they made as they followed the usher, one of the junior cla.s.s, to their seats.

Grace wore a gown of pale blue organdie that was a marvel of sheer daintiness. Jessica, a fetching little affair of white silk muslin sprinkled with tiny pink rosebuds; while Anne and Nora were resplendent in white lingerie gowns. Anne's frock was particularly beautiful and the girls had exclaimed with delight over it when they first caught sight of her.

It was a present from Mrs. Gray, Anne told them. She had fully expected to wear her little white muslin, but the latter had grown rather shabby and she felt ashamed of it. Then a boy appeared with a big box addressed to her. Wrapped in fold after fold of tissue paper lay the exquisite new gown. Pinned to one sleeve was a note from Mrs. Gray, asking her to accept the gift in memory of the other Anne--Mrs. Gray's young daughter--who had pa.s.sed away years ago. There were tears in Anne's eyes as she told them about it, the girls agreeing with her that there was no one in the world quite so utterly dear as Mrs. Gray.

"I'm glad we're early," whispered Nora. "We can watch the cla.s.ses come in.

See, that place is for the juniors. It is roped off with their colors and the other side belongs to the seniors."

"How fine the gym. looks," remarked Anne. "They certainly must have worked hard to fix it up so beautifully."

"Julia Crosby is largely responsible for it," answered Grace. "She has the most original ideas about decorations and things. You know the juniors always decorate for the seniors. It's a sacred duty."

"Did you know that Julia was elected president of her cla.s.s?" asked Jessica.

"Oh, yes," said Grace, "she told me about it the other day. Oh, girls, here they come! Doesn't Ethel Post look sweet? There's Julia at the head of her cla.s.s."

"It is certainly great to be a graduate," sighed Nora.

"Speaking of graduation," said Grace, "did you know that David has put off his graduation for another year! He wished to finish school with Hippy and Reddy. They have planned to enter the same college. So our little crowd will be together for one more year."

"How nice of him," cried the girls.

"Yes, isn't it! I'll be awfully sorry when my turn comes," responded Grace. "I'm sure I shall never care for college as I do for this dear old school."

"You can't tell until you've tried it," said Nora wisely.

The two cla.s.ses had now seated themselves, and an expectant hush fell upon those a.s.sembled. The first number on the program was a song by the senior glee club. This was followed by the salutatory address, given by a tall dignified senior. The cla.s.s poem came next, and was received with enthusiasm. The other numbers followed in rapid succession, each being applauded to the echo. The cla.s.s grinds were hailed with keen relish. Each girl solemnly rose to take her medicine in the form of mild ridicule over some past harmless folly.

The cla.s.s prophecy provoked ripples of merriment from the audience.

Grace chuckled with glee at the idea of exclusive Ethel Post becoming the proprietor of a moving-picture show at Coney Island. The futures prophesied for the other members of the cla.s.s were equally remarkable for their impossibility.

At last nothing remained but the senior charge and the junior reply. The president of the senior cla.s.s rose, and facing the juniors poured forth her final words of advice and counsel. She likened them to a baby in swaddling clothes, and cautioned them to be careful about standing on their feet too early. It was the usual patronizing speech so necessary to cla.s.s day.

Julia Crosby smiled a little as the senior exhorted her hearers to never forget the dignity of their station. She was thinking of the day she crashed into that young woman, in the corridor. The senior president had manifested the dignity of her station then.