Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XII

  MIRIAM PLANS A REVENGE

  For weeks Miriam Nesbit had felt a sullen resentment toward her brother,David, because he persisted in being friends with at least two of thegirls in Oakdale High School whom she disliked most.

  When he announced, one morning at breakfast, that he had been includedin Mrs. Gray's house party, his sister suddenly burst into tears ofpassionate rage.

  "Please don't cry, Miriam, old girl," said David, who was not of aquarrelsome disposition. "I'm awfully sorry if I hurt you, but, youknow, Mrs. Gray was one of my earliest sweethearts."

  Which was perfectly true. When David was a little boy he used to crawlthrough the garden hedge and call on the charming old lady nearly everyday.

  David had hoped that Miriam would laugh at this, but she stormed all themore, while poor Mrs. Nesbit looked wretched.

  "It isn't Mrs. Gray," sobbed Miriam. "But to think that my own brotherwould associate with Grace Harlowe, who is always working against me,and that common little Pierson girl whose sister takes in sewing!"

  "Miriam, Miriam!" exclaimed Mrs. Nesbit, "I am shocked to hear you saysuch things. Because the girl is poor she is not necessarily common.Your grandfather was a poor man, too. He started his career as amachinist. You would never have had the money and position you have nowif he had not become an inventor. Is it possible you would try to keepsome one else from rising in life, when your own family struggled withpoverty years ago?"

  Miriam was silenced for a moment. She had seldom heard her mother speakso forcibly; but Mrs. Nesbit had seen, with growing misgivings, theinnate snobbishness in her daughter's character, and for a long time shehad been looking for an opportunity like the one that now presenteditself.

  David had risen during Miriam's contemptuous speech, and had turned verywhite; which was always a signal that his slow wrath had been kindled atlast; but since he was a child he had had such admirable control of hisfeelings that it had often been remarked by older people. Miriam,however, knew the sign and resorted again to tears to draw attention toher own sufferings.

  "You and mother have turned against me," she cried. "Mother, you havealways loved David best, anyhow."

  "Nonsense!" replied David. "You are a willful, selfish girl, jealousbecause a poor girl is getting ahead of you in your classes and becauseyou are not included in the house party. Do you think Mrs. Gray wouldask you to join those four nice girls in her house after that Miss Leecebusiness? If you had learned to be polite and agreeable you would neverhave gotten into this state now." Having delivered himself of hisopinion, and spent his rage, David walked out of the room and quietlyclosed the door after him.

  "You see what you have done, Miriam," exclaimed Mrs. Nesbit. "You havemade your brother angry. I have seldom seen him like that before, notsince the stable man beat his dog. But don't cry, my child. It's allover now," and Mrs. Nesbit drew her daughter to her and stroked her hotforehead. "Why don't you give a house party, too?" she added after amoment's thought. "Would it give you any pleasure or help to heal yourhurt feelings?"

  "O mother!" exclaimed Miriam, looking up quickly. "I believe I _will_invite four girls and boys to spend Christmas week with me. Wouldn't itbe fun?"

  And it was in this manner that a plan for an opposition house partysprang into existence; although the son of the house had joined theother side.

  All through her preparations Miriam carefully guarded the secret thatshe was bitterly hurt at having been left out of Mrs. Gray's party, andshe meditated a revenge that was still only a half-formed idea. In thefirst place, she chose Julia Crosby as one of the guests of theChristmas house party; Julia Crosby the tall, mischievous sophomore whohad originated the "Black Monks of Asia." Surely the two together couldwork out some scheme which would bring her enemies to her feet andhumble little Mrs. Gray, who had dared to slight her.

  Meanwhile, the holidays were approaching. The crisp, cold air resoundedwith the jingle of sleigh bells, for snow had fallen the first week inDecember and all the sleighs in Oakdale were taken from their summerquarters.

  The four chums were full of secret preparations. Grace had devised ascheme of entertainment which, in the town of Oakdale, would be unique,but it required much work and practice to perfect it. In the meantimeNora O'Malley had decided to entertain her friends at a bobbing party tostart the Christmas holidays. And it was at this party that Miriamseized her first opportunity to make trouble.

  "Anne, you are learned in many things, but not in outdoor fun," saidGrace as the young people in mufflers and sweaters started to climb thelong hill where the coasting was best.

  "Do you mean to say you have never been coasting, Anne?" demanded David.

  "I'm afraid I'll have to admit it," replied Anne. "To tell the truth, Inever did have any fun, except reading, until I started in the HighSchool and met all of you. You see, little city children are denied allthese nice things unless they go to the parks, but it's no fun goingalone."

  "Well, you won't be alone now," said Hippy Wingate. "There are four to asled, and we'll put you in the middle to keep you from getting lost inthe snow."

  "Look out, here comes some one!" called Grace, just as a small sled shotpast them like a flash, with a laugh and a cheer from its occupants,Miriam and Reddy Brooks.

  "They ought not to have done that," exclaimed David. "We couldn't seethem over the knob of the hill and they might have run us down."

  By this time they had reached the top of the hill, and Anne's heartbounded at the sight of the long, white track made by the sled which hadjust passed them and disappeared far below across a flat meadow nowsmooth and hard as a table top.

  "Don't be frightened, Anne," said David, who sat behind her on the sled.

  He pinioned her arms with his own and with a wild whoop the four youngpeople skimmed down the hill.

  There was no time to be frightened, no time even to think, as they shotthrough the fine bracing air like a ball from a cannon. Before they knewit, they were landed at the bottom.

  "O Hippy," cried Grace, her cheeks glowing like winter berries, "I feelas if I were riding the comet. But look out for the others," for theremaining sleds followed in quick succession and the air resounded withthe whoops of the boys and girls as they shot past. "Is there any sportin the world that can touch it?" she demanded of the world in general.

  Three or four more such rides, and Anne felt an exhilaration she hadnever before known. She was climbing the hill for a final trip beforethe party returned to Nora's for hot chocolate and sandwiches, when sheheard some one cry out just behind her. She had lingered a little towatch the sleds pass, and had failed to notice a small sled with asingle occupant come over the brow of the hill well out of the beatenpath and make straight for her. It was Miriam Nesbit, riding flat on herstomach and going like the wind.

  "Jump to the left, Anne," cried Grace's voice, "or you'll be hurt!"

  Anne looked up and saw the sled. It all happened in a flash, and howDavid managed to get there first she never knew; but the next instantthe two were rolling over and over in the snow with Miriam on top ofthem and a broken sled skidding on its back down the hillside.

  "It was Miss Pierson's fault," exclaimed Miriam as she pulled herselfout of the snow, and the others came running to the scene of theaccident. "Why didn't she get out of the way? Inexperienced people oughtnot to come to bobbing parties. They always get hurt."

  David was binding up a cut in his wrist, which was sprinkling the snowwith blood. He was too angry to trust himself to answer his sisterbefore the others just then. They had pulled Anne out of a snowdrift andshe was leaning limply against Jessica, trying to collect her senses. Itseemed to her that she had been walking well out of the sled track, outof everybody's way; but it didn't make any difference since nobody waskilled.

  "All I can say now, Miriam," said Grace, "is that you are entirelymistaken. If you hadn't hit Anne you'd have knocked me over. I waswalking just ahead of her and nobody can say I am inexperienced."

  "Grace Harl
owe, do you think I did it on purpose?" demanded Miriamfuriously.

  "I haven't insinuated anything, Miriam," replied Grace. "I simply wantedto disabuse your mind of a mistake. That was all." And she turned awayfrom the angry girl.

  All this time the other young people had said nothing. It was really anembarrassing situation, considering that David had not said a wordeither for or against his sister.

  "I think we had better not coast any more to-night," said Nora, after apause. "David has hurt his hand and Anne is so shaken that it would bewell to give her something hot to drink. Come on, everybody."

  "David, are you much hurt?" asked Grace uneasily.

  "Nothing but a little cut," he said shortly, so shortly that Graceflushed. Perhaps he was angry with her for having spoken out to Miriam.

  "I hope you aren't hurt much, David," said Miriam.

  David made no reply.

  "David," she repeated in a louder voice.

  But her brother had started down the hill, his hands in his pockets.Nobody took much notice of Miriam as the young people followed afterhim. Reddy Brooks was secretly congratulating himself that he hadn'tbeen riding behind her on the sled as she had wished, insisting that shewanted to do the guiding herself. It was curious, he thought, and mighthave resulted in a serious accident, at least to Anne if David hadn'tpulled her away. If Miriam had only thought to throw herself to theright when she saw Anne in the way. Girls had no heads, anyway, that is,most girls. Grace, he decided, was almost equal to a man for coolnessand good judgment. But there were few girls who could touch GraceHarlowe; and he did a series of cartwheels in the snow to emphasize hisfeelings, to the relief of everybody present, for the silence wasbecoming uncomfortable.

  "Nora," said Anne when they had reached town, "if you'll excuse me Ithink I'll go home. I'm a little tired."

  "I'll take you home, Anne," said David, who had heard her remark. "Idon't feel much like partifying either after this jolt. Come along,little girl," and he tucked Anne's arm in his and marched her offwithout another word.

  "All my party is leaving before the party," cried Nora in despair.

  "No, not all," replied Hippy Wingate. "There are still a few of us left,and I promise to drink any extra chocolate you may happen to have."

  "Don't give the animals sweets, Nora," exclaimed Reddy. "Especially thehippopotamus. He has a delicate stomach. You see, his keeper used tofeed him chocolate drops three times a day."

  Hippy grinned good-naturedly. He was a round roly-poly boy, famous forhis appetite.

  "Get away from here, Red Curls," he cried, hitting Reddy in the backwith a snowball.

  "Oh, you coward," cried Reddy, talking in a high falsetto voice, "to hita man when his back is turned. I'll slap you for that," and he landed asnowball on Hippy's chest.

  Hippy crouched behind the girls.

  "I was a fool to throw at a pitcher," he cried; "he'll be sending me oneof his curves in a minute."

  "Hiding behind the ladies, hey?" returned Reddy, beginning to pitchsnowballs at the girls.

  "Let's wash his face," cried Nora to the other boys and girls coming upjust then. They chased Reddy all the way to Nora's house and rolled himin the snow until he cried "enough."

  Once inside Nora's cozy home, the coasters were soon doing ample justiceto the good things to eat, which Nora's sister had prepared for them.Although all three of Anne's chums regretted deeply the unpleasantaffair on the hill it was not mentioned again during the evening. Still,each girl felt in her heart that poor little Anne had, in Miriam Nesbit,a dangerous enemy.