Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days Part 19

"No one, I declare, Margaret. I was just visualizing. I wouldn't have presumed to hit the nail on the head had I realized I was doing it. You must forgive me, dear, but I am rather proud of being able to predict, and if I ever meet the 'Baby of the Senate' I shall tell him to 'try, try again'."

Molly interfered at this point and stopped Judy's naughty mouth with a beaten biscuit. "Aren't you ashamed, Judy? How should you like to be teased as you have teased Margaret?"

"Shouldn't mind in the least. If in a moment of ambitious dreaming I have said 'nay, nay' to any handsome young western senators, Margaret has my permission to tell them to 'try, try again,' that I was just a-fooling. I am perfectly frank about my intentions in regard to the husband question. I am wedded to my art, but it is merely a temporary arrangement, and I may get a divorce any day if more attractive inducements are offered than my art can furnish. It is fine, though, to get my picture accepted and almost well hung by The American Artists. I have an idea its size had something to do with the judges taking it. It would have been cruel to refuse such a little thing; and then it is so easy to hang a tiny picture, and there are so many gaps in galleries that have to be filled in somehow."

"What a rattler you are, Judy," broke in Edith. "Your picture is lovely, and it made me proud to tell James, who took me to the exhibition, that you were my cla.s.smate and one of the immortal eight."

"Three more to report," rapped Margaret, "Molly and Nance and Otoyo.

Otoyo first, to punish her for being so noisy," and Margaret drew the little j.a.panese to her side with an affectionate smile.

"It is not for humble j.a.panese maidens to bare lay their heart throbbings, so my beloved friends will have to excuse the little Otoyo."

And it spoke well for the breeding of the other seven that they respected the reticence of their little foreign friend and did not try to force her confidence, although they were none of them ignorant of the intentions of the wily Mr. Seshu.

"Otoyo is right," declared Nance. "I have nothing to confess, but if I had, I should be j.a.panesque and keep it to myself."

"Oh, you 'copy cat'," sang Judy. "I'll wager anything that Nance has more up her sleeve than any of us. Look, look! It has gone all the way up her sleeve and is crawling out at her neck."

Nance made a wild grab at her neck, where, sure enough, the sharp eyes of Judy had discovered a tiny gold chain that Nance had not meant to show above her neat collar. She clutched it so forcibly that the delicate fastening broke, and a small gold locket was hurled across the room right into Molly's lap. Molly caught it up and handed it back to the crimson and confused Nance amid the shrieks of the girls.

"I reckon a girl has a right to carry her father's picture around her neck if she has a mind to," said Molly.

Just then there was a knock at the door and Melissa and Miss Allfriend were ushered in, much to the relief of Molly, who by their coming had escaped the ordeal of the teasing from her friends that she knew was drawing near; and it also gave Nance the chance to compose herself.

Miss Allfriend proved to be delightful. She was overjoyed to be back at her Alma Mater and eager to know Melissa's friends and to thank them for their kindness to her protegee. Personalities were dropped and the program for the entertainment of the alumnae was soon under discussion.

Miss Allfriend had been president of her cla.s.s and she and Margaret found many subjects of mutual interest. Melissa was anxious to know the old Queen's girls, having heard so much of them from Otoyo, and the girls were equally anxious to know the interesting mountain girl. The party was a great success, and Nance was delighted to see that there were no "sc.r.a.ps" left for Molly to give another, as there were many things on foot for the alumnae meeting for the next week and Nance felt sure Molly would have enough to do without any more entertaining.

And now we will leave our girls. Their postgraduate year is over. A very happy one it has been, with little excitement but much good, hard work.

Nance is to go to Vermont and rescue her long-suffering father from the boarding house, and give the poor man the taste of home life that he has never known. Mrs. Oldham cannot keep house in Vermont and make speeches, now at the International Peace Conference at The Hague, and then at a Biennial of Woman's Clubs in San Francisco, with a stop over in New York to address the Equal Suffrage League between boat and train!

Molly is going back to Kentucky to a.s.sist at her sister's wedding, this wedding a formal affair in a church, to suit the notions of the formidable Aunt Clay. Molly has many plots in her head to work out. Her little success with "The Basket Funeral" has fired her ambition, and she is longing for time to write more. French must be studied hard all summer if they are to go abroad, and Kent must be coached, as he is very rusty in his French and must rub up on it for lectures at the Beaux Arts. She has promised Edwin Green to write to him, and he has offered to criticize her stories, which will be a great help to her. The place of meeting in Europe has not been decided on, but Professor Green is determined that meeting there shall be.

Melissa will go back to her beloved mountains and try to give out during her well-earned vacation some of the precious knowledge she has gained in her freshman year to the less fortunate children of her county. She will in a measure repay the n.o.ble woman who has spent her life in the mountain mission work for all the care and labor she has expended on her, and will go back to Wellington for the soph.o.m.ore course with her purpose stronger and deeper: to help her people and uplift them as she herself has become uplifted.

One more incident only we must record before this volume ends. After Molly got home she received by express a box wrapped in j.a.panese paper, so carefully and wonderfully done up that it seemed a pity to break the fastenings. In the box was the most beautiful little stunted tree in a pot that looked as though it had come out of a museum. The tree had all the characteristics of a "gnarled oak olden," with thick twisted branches and one limb that looked as though little children might have had a swing on it, so low did it sag. And this tiny tree, with all the dignity of a great "father of the forest," was, pot and all, only eight inches high! With it, came the following letter:

"Will the honorably and kindly graciously Miss Brown be so stoopingly as to accept this humble gift from the father of Otoyo Sen, who has by the most graciously help of Miss Brown pa.s.sed her difficulty examinations at Wellington College and now is to become the humble wife of honorable j.a.panese gentleman, Mr. Seshu? The honorable gentleman gave greatly praise to graciously Miss Brown for her so kindly words about humble j.a.panese maiden and is gratefully that his humble wife is the friend of so kindly lady."

With this little note, it seemed to Molly that the last ties that bound her to the precious life at Wellington and the old, complete Queen's group had suddenly snapped. Little Otoyo had outstripped them all! She was quietly entering the school of Life, while the rest were only standing at the threshold.

Molly, knowing the serene satisfaction with which the j.a.panese maiden awaited the new bonds, and remembering the transforming happiness of Edith Williams in antic.i.p.ation of a similar experience, thoughtfully pondered upon her own future.

She had the eye of faith but she was not a seer; and she could not travel in advance those devious paths by which Destiny was to lead her.

How she finally came to her own and fulfilled the promise of college days, it remains for "Molly Brown's Orchard Home" to disclose.

The End.