CHAPTER XXXVII

AN APRIL FOOL ROMANCE

“Vine Haven Seminary,

“April 4, 1922.

“Dearest Cowgirls:

You never could guess what has happened since I wrote you last and,

since you are too far away for me to really enjoy mystifying you, I

will tell you all about it.

Well, to begin at the beginning. You know there are certain girls in

this school who have always wished that they could be members of

“The Lucky 13,” but, for various reasons, we have not wished to

enlarge our membership nor include these particular girls, and so

they formed a club of their own and called it “The Exclusive Three.”

Then, if you please, they actually told around that we had invited

them to become members of our club, but that they had refused since

some of our fathers were tradespeople, while all of their fathers

are retired gentlemen.

Of course, you know, that sort of snobbishness never impresses “The

Lucky Thirteen.” We took it all as a joke and were glad they were to

have a club of their own, for we want everyone to be happy.

Poor Miss Piquilin happens to have the entire membership of these

rival clubs in her algebra class, and, since the members of “The

Exclusive Three” are not very studious, they often fail in their

lessons. The consequence is that while Miss Piquilin is just dear to

“The Lucky Thirteen,” she is still Miss Pickle at her sourest to

“The Exclusive Three.” It seems that they decided to punish her by

playing a practical joke on April Fools’ Day. We found out about it

in this way. I went down to the library one evening to get a

reference book. I didn’t turn on the light for I knew exactly where

the book stood on the shelf. Just as I was reaching for it, I heard

whispered voices in the portiere-covered alcove and I recognized

Rose Hedge’s voice. She was saying: “We’ll get even with that sour

Miss Pickle. She’s in love with Professor Pixley at the Drexel

Military Academy. As though he would even look at her!”

Then I heard Hattie Drew ask: “How shall we get even, Rose?” I did

want to stay and hear the answer, but mother has taught me that it

is as wrong to listen to a conversation not intended for my ears as

it is to steal something that does not belong to me, and so, having

found the book, I left the room without having made my presence

known.

I told the members of “The Lucky Thirteen” that the girls in “The

Exclusive Three” were plotting some April Fool mischief against poor

Miss Piquilin and we all decided that it was a mean shame if those

spiteful girls succeeded in doing anything to shatter the budding

romance.

We guessed this and surmised that, but, of course, we had no way of

really knowing what those girls planned doing.

“Oh dear,” said Betsy Clossen, “I do wish it were not dishonorable

to listen. Don’t you think that sometimes the end justifies the

means?”

“Never!” Kittie Squires said so emphatically that we all jumped.

Kittie seldom speaks but when she does, it’s right to the point.

“Well, then, what shall we do?” Jennie Clark asked. “Miss Piquilin

has been so kind to us, it doesn’t seem right for us not to make an

effort to save her romance from being shattered.”

“Leave it to me!” Betsy Clossen said. “I’ll find a way.” When Betsy

spoke in that tone of voice, we all knew she would accomplish

whatever she set out to do. We were curious to know how she would go

about it, but it was April the first before we found out.

We girls played all of the regulation jokes, the same ones that are

played every year. We bought candy that had cotton inside of a

delicious chocolate coating; we slipped into each other’s closets

and sewed up sleeves, but those things were tame compared to what

happened during the two o’clock study hour.

Dora Wells had put a small green toad into Kittie Squire’s desk. I

will never forget the terrorized cry that shrilled through the

silence when that timid girl opened her desk and the equally

frightened little frog, giving a leap for liberty, landed, first in

Kittie’s lap, and then out on the floor of the study hall. Instantly

it was like bedlam let loose.

The girls, who couldn’t see what wild animal was in their midst,

imagined the worst, and scrambled up on their desks holding their

skirts tight about them.

I laugh every time I think of the comical sight they made, and just

at that moment the door opened and in came our principal, Mrs.

Martin, and with her were the Reverend John Thornton and a very

wealthy lady who was visiting our school, we heard afterwards, to

see whether or not it was a proper place to send her niece who is

related to nobility or some such.

Well, I wish you could have seen the expression on the face of dear

Mrs. Martin when she beheld so many of the girls standing on their

desks looking everywhere about as though they expected to see at

least a huge rat.

“The Marchioness,” as we afterwards dubbed her, stared through her

lorgnette in amazed horror, but the Reverend John proved that he was

really human for there was a twinkle in his eye when he spied the

frog and picking it up, he dropped it out of an open window into the

garden below.

Of course, as you know, the young ladies of Vine Haven are well

trained in manners, and so, a second later, we were all lined up on

the floor making properly graceful courtesies, but afterwards we

were told that “The Marchioness” decided not to send her niece to

our school as she did not wish to have her drilled in “acrobatics.”

She evidently supposed that we were all doing our daily exercises in

some outlandish American fashion. The young lady, we heard later,

was sent to a convent in Paris. My, but we’re glad she didn’t come

here if she is anything like her aunt.

But all this time none of us knew what Betsy Clossen was doing to

save the romance of poor Miss Piquilin.

When we went to our algebra class we of “The Lucky Thirteen” held

our heads high and looked daggers at “The Exclusive Three,” who were

whispering every time Miss Piquilin wrote on the board.

I glanced often at Betsy and I realized that her mind was not on

algebra. Evidently she had not discovered what the enemy planned

doing, but I had never known Betsy to fail in anything she

undertook, and so I was sure that in due time she would unearth the

desired information if it could be obtained in an honorable manner.

Nor was I wrong as we soon found out.

Becky Hensley was the only member of “The Exclusive Three” who did

not appear happy. She seemed to have something on her mind that was

making her miserable. Every little while she stared into space and

when Miss Piquilin spoke to her directly, she seemed to come back to

the school room with a start. We just knew that the other two had

used Becky as a cat’s paw for their scheme, whatever it was.

Becky is really a nice girl, but she is easily led. Well, she failed

completely on the test that morning, and Miss Piquilin, truly out of

patience, and rightly so, commanded her to remain in that class room

until she could hand in a perfect paper.

The poor girl was sobbing when the other pupils filed out and I was

sure that in her upset state of mind, the child wouldn’t be able to

solve the simplest kind of a problem if she stayed in the class room

all night.

Betsy Clossen, who was monitor that day, stayed to put things away

and she told us afterwards that as soon as they were alone, Miss

Piquilin looked very sorrowfully at the bent head of the sobbing

girl. Then going to her, she said kindly, “Becky, don’t you

understand at all what I have been trying to teach you? Tell me!

Don’t be afraid. Perhaps I have not been as patient as I should have

been. It all seems so simple to me, now, perhaps I forget that once

it was difficult.”

Becky looked up, seemingly surprised, and yet touched by the kind

tone. “No, Miss Piquilin,” she replied, “I really don’t understand

algebra at all.

“I was absent during the first part of the term, when—when mother

died, and I guess I missed so much that I just can’t catch up.”

“Dear girl!” Miss Piquilin said tenderly, “Forgive me if I have been

harsh. If you wish, I will stay during my rest period for half an

hour and review what you have missed.”

Becky’s eyes glowed her gratitude. “Oh, Miss Piquilin, how kind you

are!” she said. “Dad is so proud of me and I want to do well for his

sake. I’m all he has, now.”

“And so he shall be proud of you,” Miss Piquilin declared. “Now dry

your eyes, dear, and run out and play.”

When our teacher was gone, Becky sat staring out of the window with

such an unhappy expression; then, all of a sudden she put her head

down on her arms and sobbed harder than before.

Betsy went over to her and said, “Dearie, don’t cry now! Didn’t Miss

Piquilin excuse you?”

“Yes. Yes,” the girl sobbed, “but, Oh Betsy, I wish I hadn’t done

it, especially now that she has been so kind. When I thought she was

a mean, horrid old thing, it wasn’t so hard to do. Oh dear! Oh

dear!”

Then, all of her own free will, Becky told what she had done that

she so deeply regretted. We were all horrified when Betsy told us

half an hour later.

“We had a meeting of ‘The Lucky Thirteen’ in my room to try to

decide what was best to do and Becky Hensley was with us. You simply

never could guess the April Fool’s trick that Rose Hedge of ‘The

Exclusive Three’ had planned, and so I will have to tell you.”

“Becky Hensley, you don’t mean to tell us that Rose Hedge actually

wrote a letter to Professor Pixley and signed Miss Piquilin’s name

to it?”

Becky nodded. “I feel like a traitor telling you girls. Rose and

Hattie will hate me and they’ll make my life so miserable I’ll just

have to leave school.”

Betsy Clossen slipped an arm about the younger girl. “Dear,” she

said, “your conscience would make you more miserable if you did not

try to right the wrong you have done in the lives of these two good

people, and, as for Rose and Hattie, I do not like to speak unkindly

of anyone, but do you think they are the girls your mother would

want you to choose for your best friends?”

“No, indeed not,” Becky declared “and I do so want to get the letter

back if I can.” Then she looked eagerly at Betsy, as she asked, “Do

you suppose that we could get it before it is delivered? I slipped

out and put it in the street mail box before the nine-ten

collection.”

“Then it has been delivered by this time,” Betsy replied. “What was

in the letter?”

“Rose wrote it,” Becky said, “and she wouldn’t let me read it all,

but this was the beginning, ‘Dear Professor Pixley, thank you for

asking me to marry you. I will be glad to do so next June,’ and then

it was signed ‘from your loving Beatrice.’ Rose copied Miss

Piquilin’s signature from a letter she found in the waste basket.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” we all said with horrified glances one at

another.

“Miss Piquilin will be mortified when she finds out and of course it

will completely shatter their romance.”

Suddenly Betsy sprang up as she exclaimed, “Girls, it is moonlight,

I suggest that three of us cut through the woods, go down to the

Chocolate Shop and telephone to Professor Pixley and tell him that

the letter he received was just an April Fool joke, and beg him

never to tell our dear Miss Piquilin a word about it. I am sure

he’ll understand because he has such twinkling eyes.”

Of course Betsy and Becky were two of the three to go, and Betsy

chose me for the third. She and I have been chums, Megsy, since you

left. Well, it was 8 o’clock and we knew we would have to hurry if

we were to be back and in our beds before 9 o’clock, lights out,

bell rang and so away we skipped.

It was dark in the woods but through the trees we could see the

little creek gleaming in the moonlight. It was so pretty down there

in the spring when the water is high.

Suddenly Betsy clutched my arm and pointed. Just ahead of us was a

white object that looked for all the world like a ghost.

Unfortunately for us, Becky screamed. A dark object appeared at the

side of the ghost and they hurried toward us. It was our Miss

Piquilin and Professor Pixley. Scared as we were, we could see that

both looked radiantly happy.

“Girls!” Miss Piquilin exclaimed with an attempt at severity, “What

does this mean? Where are you going?”

“Don’t scold them, Beatrice,” the young professor intervened, “They

probably came to see the moonlight on the water just as we did.”

Then he added, “Young ladies, you will have to look for another

algebra teacher next term for your Miss Piquilin and I are to be

married in June.”

“Oh—oh—I am so glad!” Becky gasped, then seizing us each by the

hand she fled back to the school with Betsy and me in tow.

We never knew what happened, but it didn’t matter, for surely all is

well that ends well. The very next day Alice Barker went home for

the rest of the year, and so Becky Hensley was admitted to

membership in “The Lucky 13,” and wasn’t she the happiest girl?

Goodbye, dear cow-girls! You’ll see me in two months and one week.

Lovingly, your Babs.

“Wasn’t that an interesting letter?” Virg said. “Good! Here comes

Malcolm. Now we can tell him about Tom Wentworth.”

Virginia of V. M. Ranch · 第 37 / 48 章