THE HOUR OF TRIUMPH
The morning after the boat race Tom Curtis came over to see the girls
in the launch, and took Madge back to Old Point with him to see his
mother.
Mrs. Curtis was not proof against Madge's sincere apology. She had been
very angry with her young friend until Tom had privately assured her
that Madge's abrupt accusation was true. Flora and Alice had won the
race unfairly. One pleading look from the little captain's blue eyes
the next morning caused her to surrender. She was no longer sure that
she wished Madge to apologize to a girl who had been guilty of so
dishonorable an action.
"I am sorry that you and Flora are not on friendly terms," she said
regretfully. "I am afraid we can not give the play. Flora Harris will
no doubt withdraw from the cast simply to complicate matters."
"Mrs. Curtis," said Madge with compelling directness, "would you rather
I should apologize to Flora Harris?"
Mrs. Curtis eyed Madge reflectively. "I don't know, my dear," she
hesitated.
"I am going to do it!" cried Madge, springing to her feet. "Don't say a
word; I'd rather make Miss Harris fifty apologies than spoil all your
lovely plans."
Mrs. Curtis insisted firmly on accompanying Madge to Flora Harris's
home. The little captain walked across the parade ground at Fortress
Monroe to the house of Colonel Harris, her face very pale, her auburn
head held high.
They had been seated in the Harris's drawing room for at least ten
minutes before Flora Harris entered. She did not so much as glance at
Madge, although she greeted Mrs. Curtis rather effusively.
If Mrs. Curtis could have signaled to Madge, she would not have
permitted her to humiliate herself by an apology to this ill-bred girl.
She was extremely angry at Flora's rudeness and regretted that she had
held the slightest sympathy for her. But before she could catch Madge's
eye the little captain had begun her apology.
"Miss Harris," she declared quietly, "I am very sorry to have created
the scene that I did at the boat race yesterday. It was not very
diplomatic in me, and I am afraid I destroyed everyone's pleasure in
the party."
Flora Harris favored Madge with the merest fraction of a glance. "I
thought you would soon see your mistake," she answered coolly.
"My mistake?" For an instant Madge's blue eyes glittered with anger.
Then, rallying her self-control, she said sweetly, "I suppose it _was_
a mistake to speak openly. It must have been very disagreeable for you.
It would have been kinder to remain silent."
Flora Harris turned scarlet. Mrs. Curtis bit her lips to keep from
smiling. Madge bowed distantly to Flora. Then she rose and said
demurely: "Are you ready to go, Mrs. Curtis? Good afternoon, Miss
Harris."
There was a distinct note of constraint in Mrs. Curtis's voice as she
said good-bye to Flora Harris. She was heartily disgusted with the
cavalier manner which the officer's daughter had exhibited, and
privately registered a vow that after the play she would invite Miss
Harris to her hotel but little.
Madge stayed to luncheon with Mrs. Curtis and Madeleine. In the
afternoon Tom came in with the news that the Army headquarters at
Fortress Monroe were ringing with the story of the disappearance of
Lieutenant Jimmy Lawton. It was rumored that he had started for
Washington, where he was to appear before a body of naval experts
selected to judge the value of his invention. Up to that time he had
not arrived in Washington. He had made no report in regard to his
failure to appear. Gossip was beginning to whisper that Lieutenant
Jimmy was not such a patriot after all. Possibly he had run away to a
foreign country to sell his model to the highest bidder. He might never
again be allowed to wear his uniform as an officer in the United States
Navy.
Madge wondered what she ought to tell Phil in regard to the strange
rumors. She was afraid Phyllis would be grieved, and be sadly worried.
What had the two girls concealed in the mysterious package left in
their charge by the vanished officer, who had evidently foreseen that
gossip would follow his mysterious departure?
Madge need not have troubled herself on Phil's account. That young
woman took the report of Lieutenant Jimmy's disappearance with perfect
calmness. "He will be back very soon," she asserted to Madge. "Then he
will be able to explain everything to everyone's satisfaction.
Lieutenant Lawton is not a traitor. Just you wait and see!" So Phyllis
continued to have faith in the young officer. She never reflected on
what the box in her trunk contained, but she never left the trunk
unlocked for a moment. Nor did she ever fail to wear a small brass key
about her person.
On the evening appointed for the performance of "The Decision" all
personal differences were apparently forgotten. Madge thought no more
of her trouble with Flora Harris. She had tried to be as polite to her
as possible and Flora had appeared to accept her apology. Flora Harris
had determined that it was the wisest thing that she could do to appear
to be friendly with Madge. It would make the revenge which she had
planned against Madge the more complete. Then, if she let it be known
that Miss Morton had withdrawn the accusation against herself and
Alice, no one could possibly believe there had been any truth in it in
the beginning. Her act would appear to be inspired only by her own
chagrin over defeat in the race.
The day of the play Lillian and Madge were radiant over the prospect of
the evening's gayety. Eleanor, Phil and Miss Jenny Ann were equally
interested. The four girls sewed and talked the entire morning. They
had not had such a good time together since the beginning of their
second houseboat holiday. In a few days "The Merry Maid" would be sent
up the bay to be looked after for the winter; the four comrades would
return to Miss Tolliver's school; Miss Jenny Ann would be turned from
chaperon to teacher. The girls were enthusiastic about their winter. Of
course, they would study harder and accomplish more than they ever had
before, they promised themselves.
The private ballroom in her hotel, which Mrs. Curtis had engaged for
the performance of the little drama, was delightfully arranged. A small
stage was erected at one end of it, and low-growing flowers and palms
banked about it. There was little light in the back of the room, where
the audience sat, but the miniature stage was brilliant with the glow
of delicately shaded electric lights.
Mrs. Curtis had invited about fifty guests, her friends from the nearby
hotels and cottages, and a number of Army and Navy officers with their
families. The season was almost at an end. Mrs. Curtis, Madeleine and
Tom would leave for New York in ten days. They wished their last
entertainment to be a memorable one.
Miss Jenny Ann sat in one of the front row chairs with Eleanor and
Phyllis. In their dressing room, Madge was trying to comfort Lillian,
who had lost her courage at the eleventh hour. When the time came for
her to go on, however, Lillian forgot her stage fright and made her
first entrance with the air of a seasoned trouper. The heavy work of
the play lay between Flora Harris and Madge, and in the enactment of
the little drama that followed it was difficult to realize that neither
of the two young women was a professional.
"Flora Harris's part is pretty well suited to her," Tom Curtis had
confided to Madge at the dress rehearsal the day before. "I can imagine
she would be quite likely to load the blame for her own misdeeds on the
other girl's shoulders. She wouldn't experience a change of heart at
the end of the stunt the way this girl did, either."
And Madge, being merely human, could not resist flashing him a glance
which meant that she quite agreed with him.
It was in the final scene, where the secretary makes her appeal to the
father of the girl, that Madge scored her greatest triumph. The rise
and fall of her clear voice, that Madeleine always asserted had "tears"
in it, coupled with the intense earnestness with which she made her
plea, called forth ungrudging applause, and when, after the cast had
taken several encores the audience still kept up a steady clamor, she
was obliged to appear between the silken curtains and make a little
speech. It was indeed Madge Morton's hour of triumph.