GRACE'S PLAN
The Easter vacation slipped away at the same appalling rate of speed
that had marked the passing of all Grace's holidays at home. There were
so many pleasant things to do and so many old friends to welcome her
return to Oakdale that she sighed regretfully to think she could not
possibly accept one half of the invitations that poured in upon her from
all sides.
Nora and Jessica had come from the conservatory to spend Easter at home,
so had the masculine half of the "Eight Originals Plus Two." Then, too,
the Phi Sigma Tau, with the exception of Eleanor Savelli, had renewed
their vows of unswerving loyalty, and their numerous sessions ate up the
time. There was one day set aside, however, on which the little clan had
paid a visit to Jean, the old hunter, and Ruth had experienced the
satisfaction of seeing and talking with a man who had been her father's
friend. The old woodsman had been equally delighted to take Arthur
Denton's child by the hand, and the tears had run down his brown,
weather-beaten cheeks as he looked into Ruth's face and exclaimed at the
resemblance to her father that he saw there. "You shall yet hear. You
shall yet see, Mamselle," he had prophesied with a fullness of belief
that made Grace resolve to keep on writing to the address Jean had given
her for a year at least, whether or not she received a line in return.
She, too, felt confident that Arthur Denton still lived.
She was, therefore, more disappointed than she cared to admit when, on
returning to Overton, she failed to find an answer to the letters which
she had sent to Nome at stated intervals. Ruth, apprehensive and sick at
heart, by reason of hope deferred, was striving to be brave in spite of
the bitterness of her disappointment. From the beginning she had sternly
determined not to be buoyed by false hopes, then if she never heard from
the letters that she and Grace had sent speeding northward, she would
have nothing to disturb her peace of mind other than the regret that her
dream had never come true. Yet it was hard not to think of her father
and not to hope.
A late Easter made a short April, and May was well upon them before the
students of Overton College awoke to the realization that it was only a
matter of days until the senior class would be graduated and gone; that
the juniors would be seniors, the sophomores juniors, and even the
humblest freshman would taste the sweetness of sophomoreship.
To Grace the rapid passing of the last days of her junior year brought a
certain indefinable sadness. There were times when she wished herself a
freshman, that she were ending her first year of college life rather
than the third. Only one more year and it would all be over. Then what
lay beyond? Grace never went further than that. She had no idea as to
what life would mean to her when her college days were past. She had not
yet found her work. Anne would, no doubt, return to her profession.
Miriam intended to study music in Leipsig at the same conservatory where
Eleanor Savelli's father and mother had met. Elfreda had long since
announced her intention of becoming a lawyer. Ruth fully expected to
teach, and even dainty Arline had hinted that she might take up
settlement work.
Grace was thinking rather soberly of all this, late on Saturday
afternoon as she walked slowly across the campus toward Wayne Hall. "I
really ought to begin to think seriously of my future work," she
thought. "Father and Mother would only be too glad to have me stay at
home with them, but I feel as though I ought to 'be up and doing with a
heart for any fate' instead of just being a home girl. Miss Duncan said
the last time I talked with her that I would some day hit upon my work
when I least expected it. I hope it will happen soon. Oh, there goes
Alberta Wicks!" she cried aloud. "I must see her at once. Alberta!"
Alberta Wicks, who was within hailing distance, turned abruptly and
walked toward Grace.
"Where have you been of late? I haven't seen you. Did you receive my
note?" asked Grace, holding out her hand to the other girl.
"Yes," returned Alberta, a slow red creeping into her cheeks. "I meant
to come to Wayne Hall, but----" She paused, then said with a touch of
her old defiance, "I might as well tell you the truth, I am rather
afraid of the girls there."
"'Afraid of the girls!'" repeated Grace. "Why are you afraid of them,
Alberta?"
"Because I've been so disagreeable," was the low reply. "They were very
sweet with me the night of your tea party, but I felt as though they
bore with me for your sake."
"On the contrary, they were pleased to entertain you," replied Grace
with a sincerity that even Alberta could not doubt. "I hope you will
come again soon, and I wish you would bring Miss Hampton with you."
"Thank you," returned Alberta, but her hesitating reply was equivalent
to refusal.
"She wants to come, but she still believes we don't like her," reflected
Grace, as Alberta said good-bye and walked away with an almost dejected
expression on her face. "Now is the time to put my plan into execution.
I had forgotten it until seeing Alberta brought it back to me. I must
propose it to the girls to-night."
From the evening on which Alberta had kept her promise to Julia Crosby
and come to Wayne Hall to make peace, Grace had experienced a strong
desire to help her sweeten and brighten the last days of her college
life. With this thought in mind she had evolved the idea of giving
Alberta and Mary a surprise party at Wellington House and inviting the
Semper Fidelis girls as well as certain popular seniors and juniors who
would be sure to add to the gayety of the affair. But when after dinner
she broached the subject to her three friends, who had seated themselves
in an expectant row on her couch to hear her plan, she was wholly
unprepared for the amount of opposition with which it was received.
"I can't see why we should exert ourselves to make things pleasant for
those two girls," grumbled Elfreda. "For almost three years they have
taken particular pains to make matters unpleasant for us. The other
night I treated Miss Wicks civilly for your sake, Grace, not because I
am fond of her."
"I am afraid you will have considerable trouble in making the other
girls promise to help you," demurred Miriam. "Neither Miss Wicks nor
Miss Hampton have ever done anything to endear themselves to the girls
here at Overton. Personally, I believe in letting well-enough alone in
this case. If you wish to entertain them at Wayne Hall, of course we
will stand by you. But I don't believe it would be wise to attempt to
give a semi-public demonstration. It would be very humiliating for you
if the girls refused to help you."
"But if they promise to help they are not likely to break their word,"
argued Grace, "and I shall make a personal call upon every girl on my
list."
"Aren't you afraid that a 'list' may cause jealousy and ill-feeling on
the part of certain girls who are not included in it?" was Anne's
apprehensive question.
"And you, too, Anne!" exclaimed Grace in a hurt voice, looking her
reproach. "No, I don't see why it should cause any ill-feeling whatever.
We are not making it a class affair. There will be perhaps thirty girls
invited. Aside from the surety that we'll have a good time, I believe we
will be going far toward displaying the true Overton spirit. Of course,
if you girls feel that you don't wish to enter into this with me, then I
shall have to go on alone, for I am determined to do it. At least you
can't gracefully refuse to come to the surprise party," she ended, with
a little catch in her voice.
"Grace Harlowe, you big goose!" exclaimed Elfreda, springing to Grace's
side and winding both arms about her. "Did you believe for one instant
that we wouldn't stand by you no matter what you planned to do? I am
ashamed of myself. If it hadn't been for me, you would never have had
any trouble with either Alberta Wicks or Mary Hampton. Plan whatever you
like, and I set my hand and seal upon it that I'll aid you and abet you
to the fullest extent of my powers."
"And so will I," cried Miriam. "I am sorry I croaked."
"And to think I was a wet blanket, too," murmured Anne, patting one of
Grace's hands.
"You are perfect angels, all of you," declared Grace, her gray eyes
shining. "I know I am always dragging you into things, and making you
help me for friendship's sake."
"But they are always the right sort of things," retorted Elfreda, with
an affectionate loyalty.
"Let us atone for our defection by making ourselves useful," proposed
Anne, picking up paper and pencil from the writing table. "I'll write
the names of those eligible to the surprise party if you'll supply
them."
After considerable discussion, erasing, crossing out and re-establishing
the list of names was finally declared to be satisfactory.
"Is there any particular friend of either of these girls that we have
forgotten to include?" asked Anne, as she carefully scanned the list.
"What of Kathleen West?" asked Elfreda.
Grace shook her head. "I believe it would be better not to ask her," she
said. "She wouldn't come; besides, she might--" Grace stopped. She had
been tempted to say that Kathleen would be likely to tell tales and
spoil the surprise.
"I know what you were going to say. You believe she would tell Alberta
our plans and spoil the party," was Elfreda's blunt comment. "Well, so
do I believe it. Any one can see that."
Grace smiled at Elfreda's emphatic statement.
"It is wiser not to ask her," she said again. "There are four of us, and
we can count on Arline and Ruth; that leaves twenty-four girls to be
invited. Divided, that is six girls to each one of us. You must each
choose the six girls you will agree to see and make it your business to
invite them to the party. Try to make them promise to come, for we don't
want to change the list."
"What are we going to have to eat?" asked Elfreda. "That is an extremely
important feature of any jollification. I always think of things to eat,
even though I don't eat them. Just thinking of them can't make one
stout, and it is a world of satisfaction."
"We had better have different kinds of sandwiches, olives and pickles,
and what else?" asked Grace.
"Ice cream and cake. We might have salted nuts and lemonade, too," added
Miriam.
"It sounds good to me," averred Elfreda, relapsing into slang. "But
don't rely on the girls to bring this stuff. Assess them fifty cents
apiece with the understanding that another tax will be levied if
necessary."
"That is sound advice," laughed Miriam, "but it means that the duty of
making of the sandwiches must fall upon us."
"I guess I can stand it," nodded Elfreda with a sudden generosity. "I'll
take the sandwich making upon myself, if you say so. You all know
perfectly well that I can neither be equalled nor surpassed when it
comes to the 'eats' problem. Candidly, I'm ashamed of myself because I
didn't respond when Grace first asked me to help, and this sandwich task
is going to be my act of atonement. So, Anne, you and Miriam had better
get busy, too, and decide what yours will be, for we've all been found
guilty of lacking college spirit, and we've got to make good."
"I will pledge myself to collect the money for the refreshments as a
further act of atonement," volunteered Anne.
"And I will do the shopping for you when the money is collected,"
promised Miriam. "Thanks to the careful training of J. Elfreda Briggs, I
know what to buy and where to buy it."
"But you are leaving nothing for me to do," protested Grace.
"There will be plenty of things for you to do," declared Elfreda. "You
will have to keep an eye on us and see that we perform our tasks with
diplomacy and skill."
"It requires a great deal of diplomacy to make sandwiches, doesn't it,
Elfreda?" was Anne's innocent observation.
"You know very well I wasn't referring to the making of the sandwiches,"
retorted Elfreda, with a good-natured grin. "It is the delivering of the
invitations that is going to require a wily, sugar-coated tongue. The
majority of the girls are not fond of either Alberta Wicks or Mary
Hampton. The very ones you believe will help you may prove to be the
most prejudiced."
"I am well aware of that fact," flung back Grace laughingly. "I received
an unexpected demonstration of it a few moments ago."
"So you did," responded Elfreda unabashed. "I hadn't forgotten it,
either. Therefore I repeat that you will have your hands full managing
the ethical side of this surprise party. You will have to interview the
girls we can't persuade to come, for there are sure to be some of them
who will raise the same objections that we did, and if they do accept,
it will be only to please Grace Harlowe."