Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College
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CHAPTER XXIII
GRACE FINDS HER WORK
Commencement day dawned smilingly, as though anxious to contribute tothe happiness of the four chums by putting on its most sunshiny face. Acool breeze swept across the campus, and, according to J. ElfredaBriggs, one didn't really mind being graduated on such a day.
The hotels of Overton were well filled with friends and relatives of thegraduates. The Southards, Mrs. Gray, Mrs. Pierson and her daughter Mary,together with Mrs. Allison, Mabel and the remainder of the EightOriginals Plus Two had been staying at the "Tourraine" for the past twodays. Elfreda's father and mother had also arrived and were staying atthe "Wilton," an old-fashioned hotel near the campus. The four chumsfound it somewhat of a problem to divide their time equally among theirclassmates, friends and families. During those last days theiropportunities for confidential talks came only at the end of theevening, when, having bade a round of affectionate good-nights, theyspent a few moments in either Grace's or Miriam's room before retiring.
"I feel at least a hundred years old to-day," announced J. ElfredaBriggs, as she stood arranging her hair before the mirror preparatory toputting on her cap and gown.
"Yes, you look quite like some grand old ruin," observed Miriam soberly,as she unearthed her slippers from the depths of her closet and huntedvainly about for a shoe horn.
Elfreda laid her comb on the dressing table, grinned her appreciation ofthis pleasantry, then, giving her smoothly coiffed hair a last pat,reached for her cap. "I am so glad I can wear black without looking likea funeral procession," she observed.
"Hurry, girls," sounded Grace's clear tones outside their door. "It istime we were on our way."
"Coming," called Miriam, springing from the edge of the bed, where shehad sat to put on her slippers, and hastily adjusting her cap. In thenext instant the four friends accompanied by Emma Dean were hurryingacross the campus to the gymnasium, where the senior class were to meet,then proceed in a body to the chapel, where the commencement exerciseswere to be held.
The little procession of seniors walked two by two to the chapel, and toGrace, who walked with Anne, it seemed the most wonderful moment of herlife. She marked the calm, almost exalted expression which Anne wore.Elfreda and Miriam, looking very stately in their black gowns, were justahead of her and Anne, while Arline and Ruth Denton were directly behindthem. As they walked sedately down the aisle of the chapel to the placesreserved for them, Grace's eyes searched the rows of seats for herfather and mother, whom she spied when almost opposite them. Just as shepassed their row she managed to send one tender little glance to them,which caused their faces to glow with pride as their fond eyes followedthe straight, supple figure of their daughter who had so amply fulfilledtheir expectations.
The exercises, while impressive to the friends of the graduates, weredoubly so to the graduates themselves, who were deeply conscious of thefact that their diplomas were their passports into the real world ofwork and endeavor that was now about to open before them.
At the conclusion of the exercises the usual gifts and endowments to thecollege were announced. Among them was Thomas Redfield's annual gift tothe Semper Fidelis Club, which brought forth a quick tribute of applausefrom the seniors, which was seconded by the entire assemblage. "Andlastly allow me to mention the latest and one of the most acceptablegifts ever bestowed upon the college," stated President Morton.
Grace bowed her head. She had reached the very end of Senior Lane. A fewmoments and her college life would be over. She had finished her course.She had kept faith with herself, and now there remained the wide worldand her work, whatever that might be. Her reflections were brought to anabrupt end by what President Morton was saying. She raised her head insudden amazement. "I refer to the newly completed house at the northernend of the campus," she heard, "presented to Overton and endowed by Mrs.Rose Gray as a mark of appreciation of her young friends, Grace Harlowe,Miriam Nesbit and Anne Pierson. It is Mrs. Gray's wish that her gift toOverton College shall be known henceforth and forever as 'HarloweHouse.'"
Absolute silence reigned for an instant after this announcement, thenthe quiet chapel echoed with the applause of the enthusiasticassemblage. President Morton waited until he could make himself heard,then went on to explain more fully that Harlowe House was to bededicated to the use of those girls who were making a struggle toacquire a college education. Then there was more applause, and Mrs. Graywas asked to address the graduates.
"And to think," said Grace, as, a little later, she stood with Miriam,Anne and Elfreda outside the chapel, surrounded by those she loved,"that I know at last what my work is going to be."
"But we don't know," reminded her father, almost wistfully.
"There is only one thing for me to do," laughed Grace, her eyes shining,"and that is----"
"Oh, I know," interposed Elfreda, "you're coming back to the campus tolook after Harlowe House."
"You could see that, couldn't you, Elfreda?" laughed Miriam.
"How did you guess it?" asked Grace. "Yes, I should like to come back ifFather and Mother can spare me."
"The rest of her friends don't count," commented Hippy Wingate.
"You know they do, Hippy," smiled Grace. "I must have the permission andgood will of all of them if my work is to be a success."
"You have your mother's and my full consent, Grace," said her fatherloyally.
Grace made a little movement toward her parents, slipping in betweenthem and catching a hand of each. "There is only one thing I can say,and I've said it hundreds of times before, You are the dearest fatherand mother a girl ever had."
* * * * *
It was rather a silent quartette that gathered for the last time inGrace's room that night. Emma Dean had left Overton on the eveningtrain. So had Patience Eliot, Kathleen West and Laura Atkins. Thesophomores of Wayne Hall had departed before commencement, and to-nightthe house was very quiet.
"And to-morrow is another day," observed Elfreda.
"So it is, my child," agreed Miriam, "but we shall spend it on thetrain."
"Do you remember one day, ages ago, when Elfreda Briggs deposited hersuit case on Grace Harlowe's feet and made herself comfortable. Wasn't Ia vandal?"
"Think what we all might have missed if we hadn't acquired a proprietaryinterest in Elfreda that day."
"And now you can't lose me. There, that is the first slang I've used formonths, and on commencement day, too."
"Never mind, Elfreda. It is forcible at least. But we don't wish to loseyou. You must keep your promise and come to Oakdale this summer."
"I will," promised Elfreda; "and now suppose we have one last sad teaparty."
It was almost midnight before Miriam and Elfreda went softly down theoppressively quiet hall to their room.
"Are you happy, Anne?" asked Grace, slipping her arm about her friendand drawing her to the window where, dark against the moonlit sky, rosethe tower of Overton Hall.
"Almost too happy for words, and yet I dread leaving Overton."
"You must come back next year and visit me. I do hope I shall make agood house mother. Do you know, Anne, in my mind I've already picked outa motto to hang over my door. It is, 'Blessed are they that have foundtheir work.'"