No message came from Kathryn, and Betty had scarcely time to think of
whether "Gypsy" had had an opportunity to find out anything further
about Peggy's reported speech. How wonderful it was to have Mother at
home again! Betty had missed her presence and advice and help so many
times, fun though it was to take the helm herself. Still, it hadn't
always been so _much_ fun.
Now clothes for school, countless little errands, decisions, and the
work of settling into the routine again engaged Mrs. Lee and the rest of
them. Jelly and fruit canned at the farm was a great asset for the
coming season. Grandma was ever so much better; but a good stout woman
was now installed in the old home. Dick had really been of great help
and Doris had learned to do many things. Amy Lou had been a "lamb" and
had learned to read with Grandma. She was "five years old and reading in
a primer!"
To tell the truth, Betty thought Doris was very cross at present, but
then she might still be resentful about her little flare-up at the last
of her stay with Betty. Betty had apologized for her own share in it,
but the fact was that Doris had been most to blame. They had parted
friends, but Betty felt that her sister had certain reserves with her
and was not warmly affectionate, though she had seemed glad enough to
see her on first arrival.
However, Doris would probably get over it. Betty thought that she'd
better not pay any attention to any grumblings or cross speeches. Dear
me--it was hard enough to keep patience over things at times. How did
Mother ever do it? She must put most of her time and thought on having
the family machinery run smoothly. And Betty was quite right, though a
great purpose for one's children helps any father and mother through.
A telephone message from Countess Coletti to Betty that evening was one
feature of affairs. "Hello--oh--yes'm, this is Betty." Betty was wishing
that she had not said "hello" _quite_ as if she were answering a call
from Kathryn. Betty flushed with embarrassment as she listened to the
first few words from Countess Coletti.
"I am wondering, Miss Betty, if we stop for you with the car tomorrow
morning, you will be willing to go with Lucia and me to interview the
principal of Lyon High a little before school begins. I should like to
have you go around with Lucia and I think I could get you excused from
your classes."
Betty had her doubts about that, but she did not express them. Perhaps
Mr. Murchison's sister could manage it, but the public schools were not
like that. They went on regardless of countesses and influential people
in general, so far as the daily schedule was concerned; and Betty had
had reason to know how particular her principal was about the regular
program of every student. Still, as it was a little unusual--it would be
fun to take Lucia in charge. Betty could imagine how eyebrows would lift
at her and demure glances of her friends in classes of her own would
meet her.
All these thoughts rapidly ran through her mind as she listened to what
further Countess Coletti had to say. Oh, then Lucia's credits were
already in the hands of the principal.
"I see, Countess Coletti," Betty's clear voice made reply. "I shall be
very glad to do anything--oh, yes, I shall be ready to go with you
early. Certainly. I'll find out everything as soon as I see Lucia's
schedule, and meet her at lunch and--oh, well, that is as the principal
says, I suppose. Yes, Countess Coletti. Good-bye."
"My me!" Betty turned from the telephone to see Dick's grin.
"What do you have to do now, Betty, act as nursemaid to the countess'
daughter?"
"Just about, Dick! No, I needn't say that, either. I imagine that Lucia
has a lot of grit herself; though that wasn't my first impression. But
anybody would feel lost in such a big school. I did, and I hadn't been
to private school all my life, either."
Betty went on into the living room and dining room from the hall where
she had been using the telephone. Doris was busy with her lessons there
at the big table, which was usually cleared of anything else for school
books and papers. Any one who wanted real privacy could go to bedroom or
den, as the case might be. Dick had a small set of shelves in his den,
and the girls had a similar set in their bedroom.
Doris did not look up as Betty sat down by her and took up her geometry,
though Betty knew that she must have heard the conversation, or Betty's
part of it, since the wide doors between dining room and the front room
were open, as well as the hall entrance, never closed, for the good
reason that it could not be.
Dick was calling up one of the boys now, to make sure of an assignment.
Presently he, too, was back at the table. "We're in high society now,
Dorry," said he. "Didja hear Betty talking to the countess?"
"Ye-ah," drawled Doris. "I think my mother is better than any countess,
so we needn't get worked up about it."
Betty drew a figure on her sheet of paper. Little Dory was jealous! It
_was_ a shame. Here she had been to New York and had had all the fun!
But Betty need not have felt self-reproachful. She had earned her trip
to New York by her own pleasant spirit, much real effort that to some
girls would have been very trying, and by overcoming some loneliness in
times when company was lacking. Doris would have her turn, in a family
where fairness was characteristic of its parents. But it was just as
well for Betty to be thinking about her sister now, instead of herself.
Morning came, and with it the new excitement. Dick, frankly interested,
kept an eye out for the Murchison car, a beautiful thing in dark
wine-color. "Gee!" cried Dick in a tone discreetly low, "that's a
beauty! I'm going to have one just like it some day. There's your
colored chauffeur, Sis, in uniform. Say, I didn't know that Dad was
hobnobbing with the aristocrats!"
"Hush, Dick," said Mrs. Lee, annoyed. "Mr. Murchison is a very wealthy
gentleman and lives in accordance with his means. Are you ready, Betty?
Please answer the bell, Dick. It is the chauffeur."
"Give me an apron and cap, Mom," remarked the irrepressible Dick, "for
the maid must answer the door."
"You're wrong. Dick," said Doris, who was gathering up her books. "The
butler should be at the door. See how elegant you can be, though I'm
afraid they will think you rather young."
But the bell had rung, and Dick ran, rather too hurriedly for dignity in
his role of butler, if that suggestion by Doris was to be taken
seriously. She was listening as Dick threw open the front door.
"Is you-all ready foh goin' to school with Miss Lucy an' Loosha?"
"I'll call Betty," said Dick. "Yes, she is ready." So the girl Betty
called "Lu-_chee_-a," the chauffeur called _"Loosha_."
"Miss Lucy said that she wanted to take _all_ the children to school,
foh she thought there was some o' them that went to the Junior High
School."
"Please thank the countess," said Dick, as properly as if it had been
his father. "We shall be very glad to come and we can be out as soon as
we can gather up our books."
The chauffeur went back to the car, while Dick hastily called Betty and
Doris, though Doris had been curious enough to stay within hearing, and
if the truth were told, Doris had taken extra care with her toilet that
morning, in case she should happen within sight of Countess Coletti and
Lucia, her daughter.
"She wants us all to come, Mother," excitedly she reported. "Shall we?"
"Certainly. It would be impolite to refuse. Yes, better wear your coat,
though it is so warm this morning."
"Shall you go out to the car and meet them, Mother?" asked Betty,
doubtfully, though that is what would have happened in their old home,
if any friend had driven up, or strangers, indeed, with such an
invitation to the children.
"No," replied Mrs. Lee. "Had the countess appeared, or asked to see me,
I might; but they are all in a hurry. Don't waste a moment. It is very
thoughtful for the countess to include you and Doris, Dick. Just be
appreciative, polite and quiet. I can trust all of you to be that, I'm
sure."
But Countess Coletti might be trusted also, to make the children feel
comfortable. She was smiling at the three with their books, a necessary
accompaniment, alas, as Doris thought. "Good morning, Betty," she said,
while Lucia smiled and nodded, leaving conversation to her mother. "You
are good not to keep us waiting. These are your brother and sister, I'm
sure. This is my daughter, Lucia Coletti. Now you may sit here, Betty,
your sister there and the brother, too. Ready, Horace."
Horace did not look around, but started the car and off they went in the
fresh September morning, bright and clear. "It is Dick and Doris,
Countess Coletti," said Betty, thinking that the names of the twins
should be mentioned. The term "discretion" did not do justice to the
attitude of the twins, almost too sober, Betty thought, but they _were_
dear children!
Yet the experienced countess led the conversation, telling them of
Lucia's troubles in arranging her schedule, some of them to be discussed
with the principal that morning, and chatting of how pleasantly Lucia
was impressed with her mother's old home and how good "the old town"
looked to one who had been away as many years as she herself had passed
abroad. "We never could seem to find a time," said she, "when it was
convenient to come, though my brother and his family were over often."
Betty wondered what family Mr. Murchison had. Her father probably did
not know or he would have mentioned it.
The handsome car and its occupants caused some notice among the early
arrivals at the school. The chauffeur drove in and parked the car behind
the building on one of the drives there. Betty showed the party how to
reach the nearest entrance and led them up the stairs and through the
halls to the office of the principal. He was affable but business-like.
He hesitated when Countess Coletti asked that Betty be permitted to show
Lucia about, though she asked most prettily and with no assumption that
it must be done for her. "It would be such a favor," said she, "if Betty
will not miss anything important."
"Everything is important, Countess Coletti," smiled the principal, "but
I think we shall arrange it for your daughter not to be lost. Here,
Betty, is the schedule we have made out for Miss Coletti. See if you
have any classes together?"
With the principal, Betty, feeling rather important for a modest body
like herself, worked out a program for the day. She would take Lucia to
her first class, introduce her to the teacher and leave her there,
stopping for her at the close of the period without losing much time,
since the recitation rooms happened to be near. They had the same home
room, which made it easy to begin the day together. Betty herself had
not been there on the opening morning and had been forced to see her
home room teacher later in the day, to find out many things. There were
practically no recitations of any length, and periods were shortened for
an assembly. Lunch, fortunately, would be prepared in the lunch rooms
and the full day's schedule carried out, an unusual proceeding even for
the third day, why, Betty did not know.
"Your daughter, Madam, need not worry at all. In case she becomes
confused, there is always the office. We are ready to rescue any pupil,
and without reproof in these opening days. I hope that Miss Lucia will
enjoy the new experience."
With this the interview closed. Betty showed the countess how to reach
her car, but with the ringing of the gongs, she and Lucia went to find
their home room and report.
It was a home room of girls, to be sure, but Betty felt a little
self-conscious as she accompanied Lucia to the desk and introduced her
to their home room teacher, not the dear Miss Heath, but a teacher to
whom Betty had not happened to recite in her freshman year. Keen eyes
appraised her and Lucia, who was not at all embarrassed. Lucia was
accustomed to being stared at and to traveling around. As long as Betty
kept her from being lost about places and duties, it was all right. What
difference did it make to her what impression she was making?
"Lucia Coletti," the teacher repeated, taking the card from Lucia and
pronouncing the name correctly, as Betty had given it. She made a few
notes on a paper at hand. "Is she a friend of yours, Betty Lee?"
"Yes'm. That is, I'm showing her around because she is new to
everything. She just came to New York on the _Statendam_ and has been to
school in Switzerland."
Miss Orme, who was accustomed to meet many Italian children in the city
schools, revised her first impression made by the name, and looked again
at this easily poised girl who had been to school in Switzerland. Lucia
met her gaze without interest, politely waiting directions. "Lucia is
the daughter of----"
"Count Coletti, of Milan," suddenly said Lucia, to Betty's surprise.
Betty had not intended to tell the teacher who Lucia was, then thought
perhaps she'd better, for Lucia's sake, for her relatives, the
Murchisons, were well-known in the city and it would be better, too, for
Miss Orme to place the girl at once in her mind. But why did Lucia
forestall the introduction as her mother's daughter? Perhaps that was
it. Was there some idea of loyalty to her father, or was she just proud
of it?
"Oh, yes," laconically replied Miss Orme, who had, unfortunately, a
rooted distaste for American women that married foreigners. "I think I
have heard of your mother. Betty, there is a vacant seat across from you
on the back row. Too bad you are both so late, but you can get from the
other girls what has already been said about many of the details. Show
Lucia to her seat, Betty."
As Betty went down the aisle ahead of Lucia, Peggy Pollard caught her
eye and coughed discreetly. Selma grinned up at her and Kathryn widened
her big eyes purposely. This home room of sophomore girls was the limit!