CHAPTER XXIII
A FAULT CONFESSED
Grace came home from Vinton's with the firm intention of putting in afull evening of study. "It is only half-past eight," she exulted. "I'llhave plenty of time for everything. I suppose Anne won't be home untilthe last minute's grace."
As she passed through the hall to the stairs she poked her headinquisitively into the living room. Three or four girls sat at thelibrary table industriously engaged in writing. Grace turned awaywithout disturbing them, and went quietly up the stairs. As she walkeddown the hall to her own room she noticed that Miriam's room was dark.
"I wonder where the girls are!" Grace exclaimed. "I didn't know theywere to be away to-night, too. Perhaps they have gone for a walk." Gracelighted the gas in her own room and, hanging up her hat, sat down in theMorris chair, beside the table on which lay her books piled ready forwork. "If no one bothers me for the next hour and the girls obliginglystay away, the rest will be easy," she smiled to herself as she workedat her French.
At five minutes of ten she closed her text book on chemistry with atriumphant bang. "Nothing left to do now but my theme and that can waituntil to-morrow night. I think I'll read until the girls come in." Gracereached for her book, which lay on the table conveniently near her,opened it at the place she had marked and began to read. She had notread more than two or three pages when, through the half opened door,came the sound of voices.
Grace's gray eyes opened in surprise as Miriam Nesbit walked into theroom followed by Mildred Taylor.
"I thought you would be here," greeted Miriam.
Grace rose and walked toward Mildred. Without the slightest show ofhesitation she held out her hand. "I am glad to see you, Mildred. Whyhaven't you come in before?" she asked frankly.
Mildred looked from Miriam to Grace. "I can't tell you why!" sheexclaimed in a choked, frightened voice. "I thought I could, but Ican't." She began to cry softly.
Grace sprang to her side, and, placing her arm about the little girl'swaist, said soothingly, "Don't cry, and don't tell us anything you don'twish to tell. I am so glad you came at all. The early part of the year Ithought we were going to be friends. I am sorry I hurt your feelings onthe night of the sophomore reception. I told you so then, but I amafraid you thought I didn't mean what I said."
"It wasn't that," quavered Mildred, wiping her eyes. "It was--it was--Ihad no business to take it. It was stealing!"
Miriam looked sharply at Mildred's distressed face, as though trying togain some inkling of what was to come. Grace's expression was one ofanxious concern. Neither girl spoke.
"I might as well tell you, Grace," went on Mildred in a low, shamedvoice. "I am the person who stole your theme. I found it at the foot ofthe stairs. I did not look at the name written on it until I was in myown room. I ought to have given it to you at once, but I stopped to readit. It was so clever I wished I had written it. Themes are my weakpoint, and Miss Duncan had criticised my work so severely that I wasfeeling blue and discouraged. Then came the temptation to take yourtheme, copy it, and hand it in as my own. You had lost it, so you wouldnever know what became of it. You could write another theme as easily asyou had written that. It did occur to me that you might be able torewrite that particular theme from memory. So I changed the title ofyour theme, copied it that night and changed the ending a little andtook particular pains to hand it in early the next morning, so that ifany suspicion were aroused it would not fall on me, but on you. It wasthoroughly contemptible in me, and after I handed in the theme I feltlike a criminal. When Miss Duncan sent for me, I grew frightened andinstead of owning to what I had done I told more lies and tried to makeit appear that you were the real offender. At first she believed me, butafterward she didn't, and made me admit that I had lied. When she toldme about promising you that she would give me another chance and thatyou neither knew nor cared to know my name, I could hardly believe it.Since that time I've never dared to speak to you. I have been sodreadfully ashamed." Her voice broke.
"Don't think about it ever again," comforted Grace. "Everyone is likelyto make mistakes. I think you have suffered enough for yours. I am sureyou would never do any such thing again."
Mildred shook her head vigorously. "Never," she declared sadly.
Miriam, who had listened to the little girl's confession, an inscrutableexpression on her dark face, said practically, "Was there anythingbesides what you have told us that made you unhappy to-night?"
"Why--why," stammered Mildred. "Yes, there was. How did you know?"
"I didn't know," declared Miriam dryly. "I just wondered."
"It was something that made me unhappy, yet glad, too," said Mildred,her face flushing. "I thought I hated Grace and said horrid things abouther to two other girls I know, who are not her friends. To-night I waswith them at Martell's, and I quarreled with them about you girls. Eversince I heard Savelli play at your entertainment I have felt differentlyabout everything. His music brought me to my real self and made merealize how small and mean and contemptible I was. I discovered that itwas not you but myself I hated, and when these girls began to say thingsabout you, all of a sudden I found myself standing up for you asstaunchly as ever I could. Then we quarreled and I got up from the tableand almost ran out of Martell's.
"I walked and walked until I was all tired out. Then I sat down on thatseat by the tree where Miriam found me. In defending you, Grace, I foundmyself. I saw clearly that my college life was all wrong. The meanthings I had done stared me in the face. The theme was the worst of all.No wonder I cried. Now that I've told you everything I am happier than Ihave been since last fall. Next year I am going to start all over againin some other college where no one knows me."
"Besides yourself, there are only three who know, Miriam, Miss Duncanand I," said Grace slowly. "When Miss Duncan sent for me about the themeI told myself then that, although I had no desire to know the name ofthe other girl, if ever I should learn her identity I would try to bethe best friend she ever had. I am ready to keep my word, Mildred, ifyou are ready to come back to Overton next year and help me keep it."
Mildred glanced timidly from Grace to Miriam. "I'd love to come back,"she faltered, "only I'm afraid you girls would never believe in meagain."
"My friends did," reminded Miriam softly, extending her hand to Mildred."I believe in you now."
"Of course we will believe in you," declared Grace cheerfully. "Comeback next fall and give us a chance to show you that we trust you."
"I will," answered Mildred with solemn resolution, "but you shall giveme the chance to show you that your trust is not misplaced. Good night,"she put out her hand again rather uncertainly. Grace's hand went quicklyout to meet it, holding it in a warm, friendly clasp, and Mildred wentto her room a changed girl.
"How did you happen to be her confessor, Miriam?" asked Gracewonderingly, after the freshman had gone.
Miriam related the evening's happenings.
"I never even suspected her," said Grace. "I believed her to be angrywith me for overlooking her at the reception. I always tried not tothink of any particular girl as being guilty of taking my theme. It hasturned out beautifully, hasn't it?"
"Yes," nodded Miriam. "As a matter of fact everything generally doesturn out well in the end if one has the patience to wait."
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
"Two more days, then good-bye to Overton," mourned Elfreda Briggs sadly.
The stout girl was seated on the floor, the contents of her trunk spreadbroadcast about her.
"Elfreda would like to stay here and study all summer," remarked Miriamslyly to Anne, who was watching Elfreda's movements with amused eyes.
"Oh, no, I wouldn't," retorted Elfreda good-naturedly. "I am as anxiousto go home as the rest of you, but I'm sorry to leave here, too. What'sthe use in explaining?" she grumbled, catching sight of her friends'laughing faces. "You girls know what I mean, only you will tease me."
"Never mind, we won't tease It any more," said Miriam soothingly.
"There is only one thing you can do to convince me that you are inearnest," stipulated Elfreda.
"Name it," laughed Anne.
"Invite me to a banquet, and have cakes and lemonade," was the calmrequest.
"I thought you were strongly opposed to sweet things," commented Anne.
"Not at the sad, sorrowful end of the sophomore year," returned Elfreda,impressively. "Besides, lemonade isn't fattening."
"And it will be such splendid exercise for you to make it," added Miriammischievously.
Elfreda looked disapprovingly at Miriam, then a broad smile illuminatedher round face. "So nice of you to think about the exercise," she beamedaffectedly. "Lead me to the lemons."
Miriam rose, took Elfreda by the arm, and leading her to the closet,pointed upward to the shelf. Elfreda grasped the paper bag with agiggle. Then Miriam led her calmly out again, just in time to encounterGrace, Mabel Ashe and Frances Marlton, who, in passing down the hall,had heard voices, and could not resist stopping for a moment.
"What is going on here?" asked Mabel curiously. "Why is J. Elfreda inleading strings?"
"She is taking exercise," replied Miriam gravely. "J. Elfreda, explainto the lady."
"This exercise is compulsory," grinned Elfreda. "No exercise, nolemonade. Of course, you will stay and have some."
"Of course," agreed Mabel. "I may not have a chance for a very long timeto drink lemonade again with the Wayne Hallites."
"You mustn't say that," remonstrated Grace. "Remember, you are going tovisit me at Oakdale. Elfreda is going to visit Miriam. Can't you canarrange to come, too, Frances?"
"I'm sorry," declared Frances, shaking her head, "but we are going tosail for Europe within a week after I reach home. I shall have to saygood-bye in earnest on Thursday. But I'll write you, and make you avisit some time."
"How comfortingly definite. I'll see you again during the next hundredyears," jeered Mabel.
"You know I don't mean that," reproached Frances.
"I do intend before the end, This happy couple shall meet again,"
chanted Elfreda as she peered into the lemonade pitcher.
"Precisely," laughed Frances. "Did you play 'Needle's eye' when you werea little girl, Elfreda?"
"Yes, and 'London Bridge' and 'King William was King James's son,' too.I always loved to play, but was hardly ever chosen because I was so fatand ungainly. I remember once, though, when I went to a children's partyin a pale blue silk dress that made me look like a young mountain. Ithought myself superlatively beautiful, however, and the rest of thelittle girls were so impressed that I was a great social triumph, andmade up for the times when I had been passed by," concluded Elfredahumorously.
"Your adventures are worthy of recording and publishing," said Annelightly. "Write a book and call it 'The Astonishing Adventures ofElfreda'."
The stout girl eyed Anne reflectively, the lemon squeezer poised in onehand. "That's a good idea," she said coolly. "I'll do it when I comeback next fall. Now I'm not going to say another word until I finishthis lemonade, so don't speak to me." When she left the room for icewater, Mabel Ashe observed warmly, "She is a credit to 19--, isn't she?"
"Yes," returned Grace. "They are beginning to find it out, too."
"Your sophomore days have been peaceful, compared with last year,"remarked Frances Marlton. "Certain girls have kept strictly in thebackground."
"We have not been obliged to resort to ghost parties this year,"reminded Mabel Ashe. "It requires ghosts to lay ghosts, you know."
Grace could have remarked with truth that certain ghosts had not beenlaid as effectually as she desired, but wisely keeping her own counselshe was about to essay a change of subject when the return of Elfredawith the lemonade served her purpose.
"'How can I bear to leave thee?'" quoted Mabel sentimentally, as she andFrances reluctantly rose to go half an hour later. "I hope you feelproperly flattered. Graduates' attentions are at a premium this week.They ought to be, too, when one stops to think that it takes four yearsto reach that dizzy height of popularity. Four long years of slavishtoil, my children. Observe my careworn air, my rapidly graying locks, mydeeply-lined countenance."
"Yes, observe them," grinned Elfreda. "You look younger than Anne, andshe looks like a mere chee--ild. Don't forget that you are going to sendus pictures of you in your cap and gown, will you?" she added, lookingaffectionately at the two pretty seniors, whose help and kindly interesthad meant much to her individually.
"We will see you to the door," laughed Grace, slipping her arm throughMabel's.
"Did you ever find the girl?" asked Mabel in a low tone. "You know theone I mean. I have often wondered about her."
"Yes," replied Grace in the same guarded tones. "I can't tell even youher name, but everything has been explained."
Mabel pressed Grace's arm in silent understanding. "Good-bye," she said,"we shall see you again before we leave Overton."
"You had better come into our room and finish the lemonade," declaredMiriam, as they watched their guests go down the walk.
"But I haven't begun my packing yet, and I have so many things to do andso many girls to see that I ought not waste a minute."
"Time spent with us is never wasted," reminded Elfreda significantly.
"Quite true," responded Grace gaily. "I am sorry I had to be reminded.To prove my sorrow I will help you with your packing, when I ought to bedoing my own."
"Come on, then," challenged Elfreda. She ran lightly up the stairs, herthree friends at her heels.
"I'll pour the lemonade while you and Grace pack," volunteered Miriam.
"I choose to do nothing," said Anne lazily. "I am going to work allsummer. I need a little rest now."
"You won't know where you are to be for the summer until Mr. Forestwrites, will you?" asked Miriam.
"The Originals will be lonesome without you, Anne," mourned Grace. "Youmust be sure to visit me. That is, unless you are too far west."
"I am going to have a visitor of my own," announced Elfreda proudly."You can never guess who it is."
"I know," laughed Anne, after a moment's reflection. "It is theAnar--Miss Atkins, I mean."
"Who told you?" demanded Elfreda. "It is true, though. She is coming toFairview the last two weeks in July, and I am going to give her the timeof her life. Just think, girls, she has never had any girl friends untilshe came here. Her mother died when she was a baby, and a prim old auntkept house for them. Her father is Professor Archibald Atkins, thatNatural Scientist who went to Africa and was held captive by a tribe ofsavages for two years.
"Living with the heathen didn't improve him, for when he came home hebehaved so queerly that people thought him crazy. Then the aunt, who wasthe professor's sister, died, and poor Laura had to live alone with herfather in a great big country house. Finally, she grew so tired of itshe asked him to send her to college. She had always had a tutor, so shewas ready for the entrance examinations, but she had never associatedwith other girls and didn't know much about them. I can't feel sorryenough for calling her names and imitating her. We had a long talk atMartell's the other night and I am going to be her knight errant fromnow on."
"You found the rainbow side of your sophomore year in helping some oneelse, didn't you, Elfreda?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," rejoined Elfreda bluntly.
"I know you don't," laughed Grace. "It was nothing much. Last year atthis time Anne and I were lamenting because we couldn't be freshmen allover again, and Anne said that being a sophomore was sure to have itsrainbow side."
"It has been the nicest year of my life," said Elfreda earnestly. "Ifbeing a junior is any nicer than being a sophomore--well--you will haveto show me. There, I've ended by using slang. But I've found my rainbowside in another way, too."
"Name it," challenged Miriam mischievously.
"By losing twenty pounds," announced Elfreda, with proud triumph. "Iweigh one hundred and forty pounds now, and next fall you will see me onthe team, or
it won't be my fault."
"I hope I shall have time for basketball," said Grace. "There will be somany other things. Remember, girls, if during vacation you think of anygood plan for the Semper Fidelis Club to make money, make a note of it.Just because we have money in our treasury, we mustn't become lazy. Wewill find plenty of uses for every cent we can earn. There are dozens ofgirls struggling through Overton who need help."
"You never told us to what girls you and Arline played Santa Claus lastwinter, Grace," said Elfreda reproachfully.
"And I never will," laughed Grace, "and Arline won't tell, either."
"I know something, too," declared Elfreda, "but I'm not as stingy asGrace. I know who poked that envelope with the ten dollars in it underGrace's door."
"Who?" came simultaneously from the three girls.
"Mildred Taylor," replied Elfreda. "I saw her do it. I was just comingdown the hall that night as she slipped it under the door and ran away.I never told any one, because I could see she didn't want any one toknow she did it."
"Elfreda always sees more than appears on the surface," commented Miriammischievously.
"Elfreda's energy has inspired me to go to my room and begin my ownpacking," declared Anne, rising.
"I'll go with you," volunteered Grace. "I think Elfreda can be trustedto finish her packing by herself."
"I think I'll accomplish more, at any rate," declared Elfreda pointedly.
"It is half over, Anne, dear," said Grace, almost wistfully, as theystrolled down the hall, school girl fashion, their arms about eachother's waists.
"Our life at Overton, you mean?" asked Anne.
Grace nodded. "I was sure I should never like college as well as highschool, but I've found it even nicer."
"And we are going to like being juniors best of all," predicted Anne.
How completely the truth of Anne's prediction was proven will be foundin "Grace Harlowe's Third Year at Overton College."
THE END.
Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College Page 23