CHAPTER X
THE SOPHOMORE BALL
It was the night of the sophomore ball. For a week past the class had beenmaking preparations. The gymnasium had been transformed into a veritablebower of beauty. Every palm in Oakdale that could be begged, borrowed orrented was used for the occasion. Drawing rooms had been robbed of theirprettiest sofa cushions and hangings, to make attractive cosy corners inthe big room.
The walls were decorated with evergreens and class banners, while theclass colors, red and gold, were everywhere in evidence. The sophomoreshad been recklessly extravagant in the matter of cut flowers, and bowls ofred roses and carnations ornamented the various tables, loaned by fondmothers for the gratification of sophomore vanity.
The girls had worked hard to outdo previous sophomore affairs, and whenall was finished the various teachers who were invited to view the generaleffect were unanimous in their admiration.
Once a year each of the four High School classes gave some sort ofentertainment. Readers of "GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE YEAR" will remember themasquerade ball given by the sophomores, now juniors, and the active parttaken by Grace and her chums in that festivity.
The present sophomores had decided to make their ball a larger affair thanusual, and had sent out invitations to favored members of the otherclasses. An equal number of boys had been invited from the boys' HighSchool, and the party promised to be one of the social events of Oakdale.
Mrs. Gray and a number of other prominent women of Oakdale, were to act aspatronesses. Mrs. Harlowe, usually a favorite chaperon with Grace's crowd,had been ignored for the first time, and Grace was cut to the quick overit. As for Grace herself, she had not been appointed to a singlecommittee. Prominent heretofore in every school enterprise, it was gallingto the high-spirited girl to be deliberately left out of the preparations.Nora had been asked to help receive and Jessica had been appointed to therefreshment committee, but on finding that Grace was being snubbed, bothhad coldly declined to serve in either capacity.
The four chums held more than one anxious discussion as to theadvisability of even attending the ball.
"I think we ought to go, just to show those girls that we are imperviousto their petty insults," declared Grace. "We have as much right there asany one else, and I am sure the boys we know will dance with us whetherthe rest of the girls like it or not. Besides, Mrs. Gray will be there,and she will expect to see us. She doesn't know anything about thistrouble, and I don't want her to know. It would only grieve her. She is sofond of Anne. By all means we must go to the ball. Wear your prettiestgowns and act as though nothing had happened."
That night, the four young girls, in their party finery, sat waiting inthe Harlowe's drawing room for their escorts--David, Hippy and Reddy. Annewore the pink crepe de chine which had done duty at Mrs. Gray's houseparty the previous winter. Grace wore an exquisite gown of pale blue silkmade in a simple, girlish fashion that set her off to perfection. Nora wasgowned in lavender and wore a corsage bouquet of violets that hadmysteriously arrived that afternoon, and that everyone present suspectedHippy of sending. Jessica's gown was of white organdie, trimmed with tinybutterfly medallions and valenciennes lace.
In spite of the possibility that she and Anne might be the subject ofunpleasant comment, Grace made up her mind to enjoy herself. She was fondof dancing, and knew that she would have plenty of invitations to do so.David would look after Anne, who was not yet proficient enough in dancingto venture to try it in public.
"If only Miriam and Julia Crosby behave themselves!" she thought, "for, ofcourse, Julia will be there. Miriam will see that she gets an invitation."
Grace thrilled with pride as she entered the gymnasium. How beautifully ithad been decorated and how well everything looked. She was so sorry thatthe girls had seen fit to leave her out of it all. Then she remembered herresolution to forget all differences and just have a good time.
Miriam, gowned in apricot messaline trimmed with silver, was in thereceiving line with half a dozen other sophomores. Grace and her partywould be obliged to exchange civilities with the enemy. She wondered whatMiriam would do. David solved this problem for her by taking charge of thesituation. Walking straight up to Miriam, he said a few words to her in alow tone. She flushed slightly, looked a trifle defiant then greeted thegirls coldly, but with civility. The other sophomores followed herexample, but Grace breathed a sigh of relief as they walked over to whereMrs. Gray, in a wonderful black satin gown, sat among the patronesses.
"My dear children, I am so glad to see all of you!" exclaimed thesprightly old lady. "How fine all my girls look. You are like a bouquet offlowers. Grace is a bluebell, Anne is a dear little clove pink, Nora is awhole bunch of violets and Jessica looks like a white narcissus."
"Where do we come in?" asked David, smiling at Mrs. Gray's prettycomparison.
"Allow me to answer that question," said Hippy. "You are like the tall andgraceful burdock. Reddy resembles the common, but much-admired sheepsorrel, while I am like that tender little flower, the forget-me-not.Having once seen me, is it possible to forget me!" He struck an attitudeand looked languishingly at Nora.
"I'll forget you forever if you look at me like that," threatened Nora.
"Never again," said Hippy hastily. "Bear witness, all of you, that myexpression has changed."
Just then the first notes of the waltz "Amoreuse" rang out, and thegymnasium floor was soon filled with High School boys and girls dressed intheir best party attire. The dances followed each other in rapidsuccession until supper was announced. This was served at small tables bythe town caterer.
Mrs. Gray and her adopted children occupied two tables near together andhad a merry time. Many curious glances were cast in their direction by theother members of the sophomore class.
Some of the girls wondered whether it was a good thing to cut AnnePierson's acquaintance. She was certainly a friend of Mrs. Gray, and Mrs.Gray was one of the most influential women in Oakdale. Frances Fuller, aworldly-minded sophomore, dared to intimate as much to Miriam Nesbit, whoreplied loftily:
"If Mrs. Gray knew as much about Miss Pierson as we do, she would probablynot care for her any longer."
"It's a pity some one doesn't tell her," said Julia Crosby, ever ready formischief.
"Oh, some one will have the courage yet," answered Miriam, "and when shedoes, that will end everything as far as Miss Pierson is concerned. Mrs.Gray can't endure anything dishonorable."
Just then a young man claimed Miriam for the two-step about to begin, andJulia wandered off, leaving Frances to digest what had been said. The morethe latter thought about it, the more she felt that Mrs. Gray ought to bewarned against Anne. She decided that she had the courage; that it washer duty to do so.
Without hesitating, she blundered over to where Mrs. Gray sat for themoment.
"Mrs. Gray," Frances began, "I want to tell you something which I thinkyou ought to know."
"And what is that, my dear?" asked the old lady courteously, trying vainlyto remember the girl's face.
"Why, about Miss Pierson's true character," replied the girl.
"Miss Pierson's true character?" repeated Mrs. Gray. "I don't understandwhat you mean."
"That she is dishonorable and treacherous. She betrayed the sophomorebasketball signals to the juniors, and then denied it, when her class hadpositive proof against her. Besides, her father is a disreputable actor,and she was an actress before she came here. We thought if you knew thetruth you wouldn't uphold any such person." Frances paused. She thoughtshe had made an impression upon her listener.
Mrs. Gray sat silent. She was too deeply incensed to trust herself tospeak. Frances looked complacent. She evidently hoped to be commended forher plain speaking. Then Mrs. Gray found her voice.
"Young woman," she said, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. What canyou hope to gain by saying unkind things about a nice, gentle, little girlwho is in every respect worthy of all the love and regard that can begiven her? I do not know what you can be thinking o
f to speak soslightingly of one of your classmates, and I am sorry to be obliged toremind you that it is the height of ill breeding to abuse a person to hisor her friends."
With these words, Mrs. Gray turned her back squarely upon the dazed girl,who slowly arose, and without looking at Mrs. Gray, walked dejectedlyacross the room. But Miriam Nesbit lost one supporter from that minute on.
"Hateful things," said the mortified Frances, looking towards Julia andMiriam. "I believe they are more to blame than Miss Pierson ever thoughtof being."
When Grace paused at Mrs. Gray's side after the two-step, she saw plainlythat the old lady was much agitated.
"Grace," she said quickly, "what is all this nonsense about Anne?"
"O Mrs. Gray," cried Grace. "Who could have been so unkind as to tell you?We didn't want you to know. It is all so foolish."
"But I want to know," said the old lady positively. "Anne is so very dearto me, and I can't allow these hare-brained girls to make damagingstatements about her. Tell me at once, Grace."
Grace reluctantly gave a brief account of her recent disagreement with herclass and the unpleasantness to which Anne had been subjected.
"What does ail Miriam Nesbit? She used to be such a nice child!" exclaimedMrs. Gray. "Really, Grace, I feel that I ought to go straight to MissThompson with this."
Grace's heart sank. That was just what she did not want Mrs. Gray to do.
"Dear Mrs. Gray," she said, patting the old lady's hand, "it is better forus to fight it out by ourselves. If Miss Thompson knew all that hadhappened, she would forbid basketball for the rest of the season. She isawfully opposed to anything of that kind, and would champion Anne's causeto the end, but Anne would rather let matters stand the way they are, thanlose us our basketball privilege. You see, the juniors have won the firstgame, and if basketball were stopped now we would have no chance to makeup our lost ground. I firmly believe that all will come right in the end,and I think the girls will get tired of their grudge and gradually dropit. Of course it hurts to be snubbed, but I guess we can stand it. We havesome friends who are loyal, at any rate."
"I suppose you are right, my dear," responded the old lady. "It is betterfor old folks to keep their fingers out of young folk's pies. But what didthat pert miss mean about Anne's father being an actor? I had an idea hewas dead."
So Grace told Mrs. Gray the story of Anne's father, beginning from wherehe had intercepted Anne on her way from the aeroplane exhibition duringher freshman year, up to the time of the arrival of his letter begging formoney.
"Anne used her freshman prize money last year to help him out of trouble.He forged a friend's name for one hundred dollars, and would have had togo to prison had she not made good the money he took, I always wanted youto know about it, Mrs. Gray, but Anne felt so badly over it, she begged menever to tell any one."
"Your story explains a great many things I never before understood," saidMrs. Gray. "That doll that was sent to the Christmas party last year, forinstance. But how did Miriam find out about it?"
"We don't know," said Grace. "Her doings are dark and mysterious. Find outshe did; and she has told the story with considerable effect among thegirls."
"It is too bad," mused Mrs. Gray. "I should like to right matters were itpossible, but as long as you don't wish it, my dear, I suppose I must letyou fight it out by yourselves. But one thing I am sure of, Anne shallnever want for a friend as long as I live. Now run along and have a goodtime. I've kept you here when you might have been dancing."
"I have loved being with you," said Grace. "I shall not tell Anne aboutwhat was said," she added in a lower tone.
"That is right, Grace," responded Mrs. Gray. "No need of hurting thechild's feelings."
During the balance of the evening nothing occurred to discomfit eitherGrace or Anne. To be sure there was a marked coolness exhibited by most oftheir classmates, but David took charge of Anne and saw to it that nothingdisturbed her. Grace, who was a general favorite with the High School boysof Oakdale, could have filled her programme three times over. She was theembodiment of life and danced with such apparent unconcern that the mindof more than one sophomore was divided as to whether to cleave to Miriamor renew their former allegiance to Grace.
It was well after one o'clock when the "Home, Sweet Home" waltz sounded.The floor was well filled with dancers, for the majority of the guests hadremained until the end of the ball. As the last strains of the music diedaway the sophomores sent their class yell echoing through the gymnasium.It was answered by the various yells of the other classes, given with trueHigh School fervor. Each class trying to outdo the other in the making ofnoise.
Sleepy chaperons began gathering up their charges. The sophomore ball wasa thing of the past.
"These late hours and indigestible suppers are bound to break down mydelicate constitution yet," Hippy confided to Nora.
"In that case I shall make it a point to see that you don't receive anymore invitations to our parties," Nora answered cruelly. "Then you canstay at home and build up that precious health of yours."
"Don't mention it," replied Hippy hastily. "I would rather become anemaciated wreck than deprive myself of your society."
"It was simply glorious," said Anne to Grace as they stood waiting fortheir carriage, "and was there ever such a nice boy as David!"
Grace pressed Anne's hand by way of answer. She knew that David hadunderstood the situation and had taken care to steer Anne clear of shoals,and Grace determined that no matter what Miriam might say or do in future,for David's sake it should be overlooked.
Grace Harlowe's Sophomore Year at High School Page 10