A GIFT TO SEMPER FIDELIS
When the news was whispered about through Overton College that the
attractive young woman who was frequently seen in company with Grace
Harlowe and her friends was the daughter of Guido Savelli, the renowned
virtuoso, it created a wide ripple of excitement among the four classes.
Curious juniors and dignified seniors grew interested, and Mabel Ashe
and Frances Marlton, who were Eleanor's sworn cavaliers, were besieged
with requests for introductions. Far from being spoiled by so much
adulation, Eleanor laughingly attributed it to her father's genius, and
flouted the idea that her own delightful personality had made her a
reigning favorite during her stay in Overton.
It took Grace some time to recover from the surprise occasioned by
Eleanor's unexpected arrival. During the month in which she had received
no letter from Eleanor, Guido Savelli had reconsidered his decision not
to appear in America and instead of canceling his contract had sailed at
the eleventh hour to fulfill it, taking Eleanor with him.
"You arrived just in time for our show!" exclaimed Grace gleefully to
Eleanor. The two girls sat opposite each other at the library table in
the living room at Wayne Hall, making up the programme for the
vaudeville performance which was to be held in Music Hall, on the
following Friday evening. "Oh, Eleanor, don't you think you can go home
with me for Easter? Never mind if 'Heartsease' is closed. You can have
just as much fun at our house. We have only one more week here, you
know, and your father's concert tour doesn't end for another month,"
pleaded Grace.
"I think I can arrange it," reflected Eleanor. "It is only that Father
misses me so. In some ways he is like an overgrown child. All great
musicians are like that, I believe."
"It is a pity to take you away from him," admitted Grace, "but we would
like to have you with us. Besides, Tom Gray is going to bring Donald
Earle to Oakdale with him for the Easter. Donald will be so disappointed
if he doesn't see you, Eleanor."
"I'd like to see him, too," returned Eleanor frankly. "He is one of the
nicest young men I know. Father is coming down here for our show, unless
something unforeseen happens. I shall coax him to play. I imagine he
will be willing. He will play if you ask him, Grace."
"I wish we might feature him on the bulletin board," reflected Grace,
with a managerial eye to business, "but he wouldn't like that. We could
have him for a surprise, though."
"I'll tell you what I will do," volunteered Eleanor. "I will telephone
to his hotel in New York and ask him. If he says yes, we can go ahead
and count on him to furnish Overton with a surprise."
"Oh, Eleanor, could you, would you do it?" asked Grace, a note of
excitement in her voice.
"I'll telephone at once," nodded Eleanor, rising. "Suppose we go over to
the 'Tourraine' to do it."
Within the next hour Eleanor and Grace had talked with Guido Savelli. It
had taken very little coaxing to secure his promise to play at Overton
on Friday night, as he gave his last performance in New York on Thursday
evening, and was free until the following Monday, when he would appear
in Boston.
"It seems almost providential, doesn't it?" asked Eleanor, as she hung
up the receiver. "He could not have come here at any other time."
"I'm so happy over it I could hurrah," declared Grace jubilantly.
"I knew Father would not refuse us," smiled Eleanor. "Now hadn't we
better hurry home and make up the rest of the programme?"
By eight o'clock Friday evening every available foot of space in Music
Hall was crowded with Overton students. The front rows of the hall had
been reserved for the faculty, who were quite in sympathy with the idea
of the new club. In order to obtain permission to use this hall, Grace
had gone to the dean with the story of the organization of Semper
Fidelis and its purpose. The dean had sympathized heartily with the
movement, and had at once laid the matter before the president of the
college, who willingly gave the desired permission.
As the Semper Fidelis Club was composed entirely of sophomores, twelve
young women of the sophomore class had been detailed as ushers and
ticket takers. The majority of the club members were down on the
programme, therefore these duties had been turned over to their
classmates. Grace, besides appearing in the Spanish dance with Miriam,
had taken upon herself the duties of stage manager. The two smallest
sophomores in the class, dressed as pages, had been chosen to place the
posters announcing the various numbers on the standards at each side of
the stage. These posters had been designed and painted by Beatrice Alden
and Frances Marlton, who, with Mabel Ashe, Constance Fuller and several
other public-spirited seniors, had generously offered their services. As
both Beatrice and Frances possessed considerable skill with the brush
they turned out extremely decorative posters, which were afterward sold
to various admiring students for souvenirs of the club's first
entertainment.
"I am so tired," declared Grace to Eleanor as they stood at one side of
the stage while the Glee Club, composed of juniors and seniors, arranged
themselves preparatory to filing on to the stage. "Everything seems to
be going beautifully though. Not a single performer has disappointed us.
How pretty the Glee Club girls look to-night."
"Lovely," agreed Eleanor. "The audience is out in its best bib and
tucker, too. Nearly every girl in the house is in evening dress."
"Consider the occasion," laughed Grace. "Our show would not have
amounted to much if it had not been for you and your distinguished
father. Anne could not have recited 'Enoch Arden,' without your
accompaniment, and the crowning glory of having the great Savelli play
would have been missing. It reminds me of our concert, Eleanor," she
added softly.
Eleanor's blue eyes met Grace's gray ones with ineffable tenderness.
"The concert that brought me my father," she murmured. "It seems ages
since that night, Grace. I can't realize that I have ever been away from
Father."
"It does seem a long time since our senior year in high school," agreed
Grace musingly. "Good gracious, Eleanor, the Glee Club are waiting for
the signal to go on while we stand here reminiscing!" Grace hurried to
the wing where one of the pages stood patiently holding the Glee Club
poster, and signaled to the page on the opposite side. An instant later
the singers had filed on the stage for their opening song.
As the show progressed the audience became more enthusiastic and
clamored loudly for encores. Elfreda's imitations provoked continuous
laughter, and dainty Arline Thayer, looking not more than seven years
old, was a delightful success from her first babyish lisp. Her song of
the goblin man who stole little children to work for him in his
underground cellar, with its catchy chorus of "Run away, you little
children," was immediately adopted by Overton, and when later it was
noised about that Ruth had written the words while Arline had composed
the music, both girls were later rushed by the Dramatic Club and made
members, an honor to which unassuming Ruth had some difficulty in
becoming accustomed.
Anne's "Enoch Arden," to Eleanor's piano accompaniment, met with an
ovation. Guido Savelli had been purposely placed last on the programme.
"No one will care for anything else after he plays. The audience will
have the memory of his music to take away with them," Grace had said
wisely. Knowing the musician's horror of being lionized, Grace had
confided the secret to no one except Miriam, Anne, Mabel Ashe and
Elfreda, who, in company with her and Eleanor, had met him at the train
and dined with him at the "Tourraine." It had been arranged that at
half-past nine o'clock Anne and Elfreda should go for him and escort him
to Music Hall.
At precisely ten minutes past ten o'clock he was escorted through the
side entrance to the hall by his two smiling guides, and into the little
room just off the stage that did duty for a green room. Eleanor's quick
exclamation of, "You have plenty of time, Father, there are two more
numbers before yours," caused the various performers to open their eyes,
and when Eleanor turned to those in the room, saying sweetly, "Girls,
this is my father. He is going to play for us," astonishment looked out
from every face.
In order that the surprise might be complete, Grace had purposely
withheld until the last moment the posters bearing Guido Savelli's name.
When the two pages placed them up on their respective standards, a
positive sigh of astonishment went up from the audience that changed to
vociferous applause as Eleanor appeared and took her place at the piano.
A second later the great Savelli walked on the stage, violin in hand.
Eleanor, having frequently accompanied him on the piano in private, had
begged to be allowed for once to accompany him in public.
As the delighted audience listened to the music of the man whose playing
had won for him the homage of two continents, they realized that they
had been granted an unusual privilege.
"How did he happen to stray into Overton?" "I supposed great artists
like him never condescended to play outside of the large cities," were
the whispered comments.
One stately old gentleman in particular, who had been the guest of the
president at dinner, and who sat beside him during the performance, grew
enthusiastically curious, asking all sorts of questions. Who had planned
and managed the entertainment? What was the object of the "Semper
Fidelis Club"? How long had it been in existence? Who had been on
familiar enough terms with Savelli to induce him to play at the "show"?
The president answered his questions with becoming patience, promising
to introduce him to Grace Harlowe and Arline Thayer, who, he stated, had
been responsible for the organization of the club.
Later, the curious old gentleman was presented to Grace and Arline, who
answered his flow of inquiries so courteously and with such apparent
good will that he left the hall, smiling to himself as though he had
gained possession of some wonderful bit of information.
The vaudeville show netted the Semper Fidelis Club two hundred dollars,
which Arline deposited in the bank the following morning.
"'Every little bit helps'" chuckled Arline as she opened the bank book
and pointed to the new entry. She and Grace were on their way from the
bank.
"I should say it did," returned Grace warmly. "I only wish we could
always make money as easily and pleasantly as we made that two hundred
dollars."
"It was lots of fun, wasn't it?" declared Arline happily. "When we come
back next fall as juniors we can give another show and add to our fund.
We won't have time this year. We are all going home next week and after
Easter it will be too late in the year to bother with entertainments."
"We might give a carnival in the gymnasium next fall," suggested Grace.
"We had a bazaar at home and made over five hundred dollars. If we gave
it early in the fall we would have as much as a thousand dollars on hand
to lend where it was needed. I imagine we can find plenty of places for
it."
"We can be thinking about it through the summer," planned Arline.
That night when Grace reached Wayne Hall she found a letter bearing her
address in the bulletin board at the foot of the stairs. After glancing
curiously at the superscription, Grace tore it open and read:
"To MISS GRACE HARLOWE,
"Wayne Hall,
"Overton.
"MY DEAR MISS HARLOWE:
"I am enclosing a check made payable to you, which I should like
you to accept in behalf of the Semper Fidelis Club. I am greatly
interested in your association and wish to say that at this time
each year as long as the club exists I pledge myself to contribute
the same amount of money. Trusting that the club will continue to
thrive and prosper,
"Yours very truly,
"THOMAS REDFIELD."
Grace lay down the letter and stared at the check with incredulous eyes.
It was for one thousand dollars.
It took but an instant to dart down the hall to Miriam's room, where
Anne had just gone to borrow Miriam's Thesaurus.
"Look, look!" cried Grace, holding the check before Anne's astonished
eyes.
Miriam rose from her chair and peered over Anne's shoulder. "Three
cheers for Mr. Redfield!" she exclaimed. Three cheers for the fairy
godfather of Semper Fidelis!