The Camp Fire Girls' Careers Part 10

So it was a simple enough matter to understand why neither Betty nor Mollie had the opportunity even to glance inside the envelopes of their letters, though Mollie recognized that she had received one from her mother and Betty saw that Mrs. Wharton had also written to her. There was nothing unusual in this, for Betty and Mrs. Wharton had always remained intimate and devoted friends, just as they had been since Betty was a tiny girl and Mrs. Wharton, as Mrs. O'Neill, lived across the street from the big Ashton house.

Certainly for the time being the two hostesses had their attention fully distracted by their social responsibilities. For Mollie had direct charge of the luncheon party, while to Betty had fallen the duty of seeing that their friends learned to understand one another and to have a gay time.

It was a pleasure for her to observe what an interest Faith Barton had immediately seemed to feel in her little French girl. For one could only think of Angelique as a child, she was so tiny and fragile with all her delicate body hidden from view save her quaint, vivid face and slender arms.

Faith herself had been a curious child, and though now so nearly grown, was not in the least like an every-day person. She was extremely pretty, suggesting a fair young saint in an old Italian picture; and still she loved dreams better than realities and books more than people.

Ordinarily she was very shy; yet here in Angelique, Faith believed that she had probably found the friend of her heart. The French girl seemed romance personified, and delicately and gently she set out to woo her.

But Angel was not easy to win, she was still cold and frightened with all persons except her fairy princess. Nevertheless, Betty sincerely hoped that the two girls might eventually learn to care truly for each other.

They were so different in appearance that it was an artistic pleasure to see them together. Faith was so soft and fair; Angel so dark and with such possibilities of restrained vivacity and pa.s.sion. Then the older girl knew so little of real life, while the younger one had already touched its sorrows too deeply.

After all, it was really Faith's sudden attachment that kept the guests at the cabin longer than they had intended to remain.

At four o'clock, fearing the excitement too much for her protege, Betty had persuaded the girl to retire to bed. Faith had at once insisted on having tea alone in the room with Angel so that they might have a chance for a really intimate conversation. It was Faith, however, who did all the talking, nor did she even have the satisfaction of knowing that her new acquaintance had enjoyed her. Certainly the French girl was going to be difficult; yet perhaps to a romantic nature mystery is the greatest attraction.

Actually it was almost six o'clock when the last visitor had finally departed from Sunrise cabin and Mollie and Betty had a few quiet moments together. It had been a beautiful day and now when the sun was sinking behind the hill, spreading its radiance over the world, the two friends stepped outside the cabin door for a short breathing spell.

Betty had completely forgotten her unopened letters; she was thinking of something entirely different, and her gray eyes were not free from a certain wistfulness as she looked around the familiar landscape. All day long, although she had done her best at concealment, she had felt vaguely restless and unhappy. There had been no definite reason, except, perhaps, the pathetic story confided to her earlier in the day.

Suddenly Mollie O'Neill turned toward her friend, at the same instant drawing two letters from her pocket.

"I declare, Betty dear, I have not had a single moment of leisure all day, not even time to read mother's letter. Have you? I do hope she had nothing of special importance to say. I thought she might possibly come and see us for a while this afternoon."

Seeing Mollie open Mrs. Wharton's note and beginning to read it, Betty immediately followed her example. But the moment after both girls turned their eyes from studying the sheets of paper before them to stare curiously at each other.

"How very extraordinary and how very unlike mother!" exclaimed Mollie O'Neill in a puzzled fashion.

"Surely she must know that it is quite out of the question for us to do what she asks," Betty went on, as if continuing her friend's sentence.

"She understands that we have just come to the cabin and that we have promised to take the best kind of care of Angel and Cricket with Dr.

Barton's a.s.sistance. Of course, Mollie, you may have to do what your mother says, but do please make her understand that it is impossible for me. I wish she was not so insistent, though, it makes it dreadfully difficult to refuse. Does your letter say that you must leave for New York City as early as possible tomorrow and join your mother at the Astor Hotel?"

Mollie nodded, still frowning. "If mother wished us to go to New York with her on business, or pleasure, or for whatever reason, I cannot see why she did not wait and let us all go together tomorrow. I simply can't see why she should rush off this morning as her letter says and leave us to follow the next day. But I suppose if you can get some one to stay on here at the cabin with you, dear, that I must do as mother asks. You see, she writes that it is a matter of great importance that has called her away and that she is relying on my being with her."

Reading her own letter for the second time, Betty folded it thoughtfully and replaced it inside the envelope. "Of course you must go, Mollie, without a shadow of a doubt," she answered positively. "Rose and Faith will come out here and stay for a few days and Dr. Barton will be with them at night. I shall be rather glad to have them know Angel better; it might help her in a good many ways. The thing that troubles me is whether I ought to go with you. You see your mother also writes that she is relying on having me with her as well. Though she does not give me her reason, still she is very positive. She says that my coming to New York at the present time will mean a great deal to me personally, and moreover she particularly desires me to be with you." Betty slowly shook her head. "I don't see exactly how I can refuse; do you, Mollie? I don't believe your mother has ever been really angry with me in my life and I should so hate her to be now. Besides I think it would be rather fun to go, and of course Rose would look after things for a few days."

"Then it is decided?" and Mollie breathed a sigh of mingled relief and pleasure. "Well, I must go in at once and telephone Billy and ask him to look up time-tables and things. Mother has sent me a check big enough to pay our expenses if you do not happen to have the money at the cabin with you."

All the hours following that evening and in the early morning were too busy with preparations and explanations to allow of much conjecture; yet in the back of their minds both girls were trying to work out the same problem.

What conceivable thing could have happened to make Mrs. Wharton summon them to New York in this odd fashion? Could it have anything to do with Polly? But if Polly had been taken suddenly ill, would Mrs. Wharton not have given them some slight warning, some preparation for the shock that might lie ahead of them? Yet it was idle to make vain guesses or to worry without cause. In a short while Mrs. Wharton would, of course, explain the whole situation.

As pa.s.sengers on the earliest afternoon train that left Woodford for New York City next day, Mollie and Betty had already forgotten their first opposition to this journey to New York. All at once it appeared like a very delightful and natural excursion. If Mrs. Wharton had occasion to spend several days in New York what more agreeable than spending the time with her? There would be the shops and theaters to visit and a glimpse at the new spring fashions. Moreover, Betty did not altogether object to the idea of possibly seeing John Everett. They were old friends and his open admiration and attention meant a great deal to her.

CHAPTER XV-"Little Old New York"

Mrs. Wharton did not seem to consider that an explanation was imperative immediately upon the arrival of the two girls in New York. At the Forty-second street station she met them in a taxi, and certainly in traveling to their hotel through the usual exciting crush of motors, carriages and people there was no opportunity for serious questioning.

They were to go to a musical as soon as dinner was over and there was just sufficient time to dress. So Betty went almost at once to her own room adjoining Mrs. Wharton's, while Mollie occupied the room with her mother.

Once while Mrs. Wharton was adjusting the drapery on a new frock which she had purchased for her daughter only that afternoon, Mollie turned toward her mother with her blue eyes suddenly serious. Up to that instant she had been too much absorbed in her frock to think of anything else.

"Why in the world, mother, did you send for us to join you in New York so unexpectedly? If you were thinking of coming, why did you not motor out and tell us? Or you might at least have telephoned," she said.

Mrs. Wharton's face was not visible, as she was engaged for the moment in the study of the new gown. "I made up my mind quite hurriedly, dear.

There was nothing I could explain over the telephone. Besides, I have heard you and Betty say a dozen times that nothing gave you as much pleasure as a trip taken without any special discussion or preparation.

Don't you think we will have a charming time, just the three of us, dining at the different hotels, going to the theaters? I believe one calls it 'doing New York.' But hurry, now, and finish fixing your hair.

I must go and see if I can be of any a.s.sistance to the Princess." And Mrs. Wharton hurried off without even attempting to answer her daughter's question.

Almost the same result followed a more deliberate attempt at cross-examination which took place at breakfast the following morning.

This time both Mollie and Betty started forth as determined questioners.

Why had they been summoned so suddenly to New York? What was the very important reason for their presence? It was all very charming, of course, and frankly both girls were delighted with the opportunity that had been given them. Still they both thought it only natural and fair that they should be offered some solution to the puzzle of their mysterious and hasty letters.

Mrs. Wharton only laughed and shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly, in a manner always suggestive of Polly. She did not see why she had to be taken to task so seriously because of an agreeable invitation. Had she said that there was some urgent reason for her request? Well, was it not sufficient that she wished the society of the two girls?

Then deliberately picking up the morning paper Mrs. Wharton refused to listen to any further remarks addressed to her. A few moments afterwards, observing that her companions had wandered from their original topic and were criticizing the appearance of a young woman a few tables away, a smile suddenly crumpled the corners of her mouth.

"Mollie, Betty, there are the most wonderful advertis.e.m.e.nts in the papers this morning of amazing bargains. Mollie, you and I both need new opera cloaks dreadfully and Mr. Wharton has said we might both have them. Of course we will shop all morning, but what shall we do tonight?

Go to the theater, I suppose. When country people are in town an evening not spent at the theater is almost a wasted one."

Mollie laughed. "This from mother!" she exclaimed. "Think what you used to tell poor Polly about the wickedness of things theatrical! But of course I should rather go than do anything else."

Mrs. Wharton glanced toward Betty, who appeared to be blushing slightly without apparent cause.

"I am afraid I can't go with you, if you don't mind," she explained.

"You see I promised John Everett that I would see him tonight. He wrote asking me to give him my first evening, but I thought it better to make it the second."

"Well, bring John along with us, Betty dear," Mrs. Wharton returned. "I should like very much to have him and besides I don't believe I should like you to go out with him alone in New York or to see him here at the hotel unless I am with you. People are more conventional here, dear, than in a small place."

Betty nodded. "Of course, we shall be delighted to be with you. What play shall we see?"

Thoughtfully Mrs. Wharton picked up for the second time the temporarily discarded paper and commenced studying the list of theatrical attractions.

"There is a little Irish play that has been running here in New York for about a month that is a great success," she said. "I think I should very much like to see it if you girls don't mind. It is called Moira. I hope we shall be able to get good seats."

The little party of three did not get back to the hotel until after tea time that afternoon and were then compelled to lie down, as they were completely worn out from shopping. But fatigue made no difference in the interest of the toilets which the girls made for the evening. John Everett had been invited to dinner as well, and most unexpectedly Mr.

Wharton had telegraphed that he was running down from Woodford for twenty-four hours and was bringing Billy Webster along with him. They would probably manage to arrive at about eight o'clock and would dress as quickly as possible. Dinner was not to be delayed on their account.

They expected to dine on the train.

Of course Betty had promptly yielded to temptation and bought herself a new evening frock before the shopping expedition had been under way two hours. Mrs. Wharton had bought Mollie a charming one only the day before and was now buying her an opera coat to make the toilet complete. It was extravagant; Betty fully appreciated her own weakness. Was she not at great expense keeping Sunrise cabin open and looking after her two new friends? However, she had not been to New York for months and would probably not be there again in a longer time and the frock was a rare bargain and should not be overlooked. But every woman and girl thoroughly understands the arguments that must be gone through conscientiously before yielding to the sure temptation of clothes.

a.s.suredly Betty felt no pangs of conscience when she looked at herself in the mirror a few moments before dinner time and just as she was about to join her friends. The dress was simple and not expensive, white crepe de Chine with a tunic of chiffon, adorned with a wide corn-colored girdle and little chiffon roses of the same shade, bordering the neck and elbow sleeves. Betty wore a bunch of violets at her waist. Mollie was in pure white, which was particularly becoming to her because of her dark hair and fair skin.

But although the two girls had never looked prettier and although Mrs.

Wharton was now past forty, a number of persons, seeing the little party, might have thought her the best-looking of the three. For even in her early girlhood, when she had been the recognized belle of Woodford, never had she seemed more radiant, more full of vitality and happiness.