THE VALEDICTORIAN.
A few days before the closing exercises at Pine Crest Seminary, Phyllis
entered their room and exclaimed jubilantly to the girl who was seated at
the writing desk. "Nan Barrington, you never can guess who passed with
the highest marks and is to be chosen class valedictorian."
The other girl looked up brightly. "It was Phyllis Dorchester, I do
believe," she declared.
"No, indeed. That guess is far afield. The successful maiden is Anne
Barrington. There, now, what do you think of that? Mrs. Dorsey just told
me and I simply couldn't walk upstairs demurely, I was so eager to tell
you. How proud I will be at the closing exercises to see my room-mate
standing before a crowded assembly room reading her graduating essay on
'Comrading With Nature.' It's poetry in prose, Nan, and I am glad that
you are to read it."
"But I will not be here for the closing exercises, and so if that essay
is read, you will have to do it for me."
"Nan Barrington! Not be here, and the closing exercises less than a week
away! Why, where are you going?"
"Sit down and I will tell you. I would love to stay, as you well know, if
I had only my own wishes to consider, but each day Aunt Dahlia seems to
grow more frail. Naturally Mrs. Dorsey and I have been much occupied and
Aunt Dahlia has often been left alone with her sorrow in a strange
apartment. Each time that I go to her, she clings to me as a frightened
child would, and over and over again she tells me that she knows she will
be strong again as soon as we are back in the gardens at San Seritos,
then she always ends by asking in a pathetic tone, 'Nan, do you think
that we will be able to go tomorrow?' and today my answer was 'yes, Aunt
Dahlia, we will go tomorrow.'"
Phyllis reached for her friend's hand and held it in a sympathetic clasp
and tears sprang to her eyes. She knew what a sacrifice Nan was making,
for they had often talked of the happy time they would have at their
graduation.
"How disappointed Robert will be," Phyllis said at last, "but, dear, of
course it is right that you should go. How I do wish that I might go with
you, but Mother and Dad and I are leaving for England in another month.
However, if you remain in California, do not be surprised next winter to
see me appearing, bag and baggage."
Nan smiled lovingly at her friend. "No one could be more welcome," she
said, then she added thoughtfully, "I have indeed a difficult problem to
solve for I want to live as economically as we possibly can and yet not
disclose to poor Aunt Dahlia the truth concerning the lost fortune."
Phyllis sprang to her feet and kissed her friend on the forehead, as she
exclaimed, "And you will be able to do it, Nan darling, I'm sure of that!
Now I must depart, and you must finish that letter if it is to go on the
next mail."
When Nan was alone, she continued writing until several sheets of note
paper had been covered. She was telling her comrade all that had happened
and explaining why she would not be able to attend her own graduating
party.
Two days later the letter reached Robert Widdemere, and, after reading
it, he sat for a long time gazing thoughtfully into space. In another
month he would be of age and master of his own actions and possessed of a
goodly income. He sprang to his feet at the call of a bugle summoning him
to drill, but in his heart there was a firm resolve.