MR. CABOT'S VISIT
All college days are not as exciting and as full of the unusual as
those centering around the freshman-sophomore basket-ball game. It took
but a little while to settle down to the regular routine of recitations
and hard study. This was the time to do the best work of the year,
for June was not far off, and that meant hot nights and hotter days
when studying, except for an occasional examination, seemed out of the
question. This does not mean that the girls did nothing else but study
during the spring term, but it was what they concentrated most of their
energy upon.
Jean was studying hard, particularly upon her French, for she had not
forgotten her promise to Richard Fairfax and to herself. Some days it
was harder than others, and she wondered if, after all, it was worth
while if her college education was to end in June. On one of these days
when the morrow's assignments seemed harder than usual and she was
just a little discouraged about ever getting them, she decided to go
down to the post office for the afternoon mail which came in at four
o'clock, not that she expected a letter particularly, but she needed
the exercise and change of air. There were plenty of girls she might
have asked to accompany her, but to-day she wanted to be alone. She
apparently was not in much of a hurry, for she went out of her way and
circled around the laboratories before starting in the direction of the
post office.
Leisurely she entered the office and gazed into her box and there
indeed was a letter. But when she found it was from her father that
changed matters entirely. She could not wait until she reached home
to read it, but she sat right down in the office on the edge of the
window sill and tore open the envelope and began reading the letter.
It was very brief, but told her that unexpected business called him to
the East and he was starting as soon as possible and would wire her
when he reached Boston. Her joy knew no bounds; her father actually
coming to see her and perhaps already on his way. Oh, how glad she
would be to see him, and then she said aloud, "He will take me back
home with him; I can't stay here and see him go back alone. Two months
more here aren't worth it. I shall miss the girls and the good times
and Tom's graduation, but they're nothing in comparison with father and
California and the boys. Yes; I shall persuade him to take me back. I
know I can do it. He can't refuse me when he sees how badly I want to
go," and she hurried back to Merton to tell Elizabeth and the others
the good news.
As she ran up the corridor to her room, she saw Miss Hooper just
turning away from the door. "Oh," gasped Jean, "isn't Elizabeth at
home? I left her in the room when I went down for the mail. I'm sorry
neither of us were here to receive you. Won't you come in now with me?"
"Yes, Miss Cabot, I shall be delighted to, for although I came to see
you both I wanted particularly to talk with you. Perhaps Miss Fairfax
will return before long."
Jean opened the door and led her to the most comfortable chair by the
window. The conversation was general for a while and then Jean could
not keep her secret any longer. "Oh, Miss Hooper, I've just received a
letter from my father and he's coming East on business and will be in
Boston in a few days to see me. I'm so excited I can hardly wait to see
him. Just think! It's a long time from September to April."
"How splendid!" said Miss Hooper. "Of course you are very anxious to
see him, and no doubt he is as anxious to see you. How very _à propos_,
too; I came to talk to you about something particular which you may
care to talk over with your father, so I'll tell you now without
waiting any longer. I came to ask you if you would like to spend the
summer abroad with me and perhaps one or two of the girls. I generally
plan to go over every two or three years and have decided to go this
year. I knew you liked to travel and could afford to do so, and hoped
you would like to go with me. We need not join any excursion party,
but take things leisurely and go where our inclination leads us. I have
always wanted to spend a summer in the British Isles, but have never
had the opportunity before. If we started the last of June, right after
commencement, we should have almost three months, for college does not
open until late next fall. You wouldn't mind giving up going home for
one summer vacation when there are three more to come, and especially
if your father is coming to see you now. What do you think of the idea?"
For a moment Jean could not speak and then she burst out, "Why, Miss
Hooper, I wouldn't give up going home to California for anything in
the world! Why, do you know, ever since I got father's letter I have
been thinking of only one thing, and that was to beg him to take me
home with him when he goes. You know, I've never intended to stay here
more than one year, and so I can't see what difference it makes whether
I go back home now or in June. And how can you want me to go abroad
with you? I'm not the kind of girl you'd like to travel with; I've
never been half decent to you since I came. I've tried to, sometimes,
but I never can forget how foolishly I acted at the very beginning of
the year when I left your mathematics class. If there's ever been one
thing which has made me want to return to college another year, it was
to apologize to you and take mathematics I over again with some credit
to myself and to you. I have been ashamed of myself whenever I have
allowed myself to think of it, and I now humbly offer you my apology."
"And I accept it, Jean. May I call you Jean? I felt very bad when I
discovered you had left the class and several times I was tempted to
ask you the reason, but I thought sometime it would come out all right
and you would tell me about it. From the very first I've wanted your
friendship and your confidence and I have tried many times to gain
it. I felt there was a reason for your attitude towards me and that
sometime you would tell me what it was. Will you tell me now?"
"There is not much to tell, Miss Hooper, but what there is you shall
hear now. The first day of the mathematics class you may remember that
I was late, and when I entered your room you spoke to me, as you had
a perfect right to do, about my tardiness, and reminded me that the
class began at nine o'clock and not several minutes after. Then you
called on me for the Binomial Theorem, and because I could not remember
it you called upon the next girl and after she recited correctly you,
indirectly perhaps, blamed me because I did not know it. I am extremely
sensitive, I admit, and was keenly hurt because I thought you had
criticized me too harshly before the entire class. I realized that my
foundation in mathematics was very poor, and I feared my work would be
an utter failure, particularly as I had begun in such a way. I acted
upon the impulse of the moment and got permission to drop the subject
and substitute psychology in its place. Many a time I have regretted
it, but it is done and I have been the one to suffer the penalty. It
is a very poor explanation, Miss Hooper, but such as it is, I hope you
will accept it."
"Yes, Jean, and I see how much to blame I was, too. My greatest
weakness has always been my sarcastic tongue, which I can never quite
seem to control, try as I will, and I fear I have caused many another
girl unhappiness through my thoughtlessness. I feel that I am as much
to blame as you and I offer you my apology. Will you accept it?"
"Yes, indeed, Miss Hooper."
"And now, Jean, that we are talking along this line may I speak a
little about your college course? I have been interested in you from
the start, and I have followed your work in all the departments very
carefully. I know how badly you got behind the first three months and
the warnings you received. I know the fresh start you took and the
steady progress you have made ever since, and the splendid all-around
freshman you are showing yourself to be. I do not want it to stop
there. I want you to come back to Ashton for another year, anyway, and,
if possible, for the whole four years. You have an influence with the
girls; you're a born leader and can accomplish great things or small
things as you choose. I think you prefer the great things and it will
take longer than this short year to accomplish them. I am not thinking
of your taking my particular course, as you have said you wish to do,
that in itself is a little thing, but it is the principle of the thing,
for if you conquer that you will conquer the bigger obstacles that must
beset your path. Education is not a four years' college course; it
is life, and there are always going to be mathematic courses, which,
though unpleasant, must be taken up and finished, and the way you meet
them then depends upon the start you make now.
"I realize that home means a great deal to you, and so it does to all
of us while we have it, and the memories of it last us long after we
have lost it, but it will mean all the more to you later on. I know
what I am telling you, Jean, for I've lived and learned myself. I'm
begging you with all my heart and soul to come back to us and be the
fine, splendid woman your father and brothers expect you to become.
Perhaps I've said more than I should, but I'm so anxious for you, Jean."
"No, Miss Hooper, it's been splendid to hear you talk like this; it's
as my mother would have talked; it's what I've needed all these years.
I've always done pretty much as I wanted to, without considering any
one but myself. You're right, I ought to come back and do what father
and my brothers want me to do and what you want me to do and what I
want to do myself. Yes, I admit it to you now; I've struggled against
it all the year. Every time I've said I wasn't coming back I knew
it wasn't right. Something in me always said, 'You are coming back;
you know you are,' but I wouldn't listen and tried to deceive myself
and everybody else, but I can't any longer. I'm coming back and take
Mathematics I. and French, too, if I fail at June, and I'm going to
work with all that's in me for dear old Ashton College.
"Oh, thank you, Miss Hooper, for coming just when you did, for I
think if I had seen father first it would have been harder for me to
decide the right way. And now that I feel so differently about coming
back, perhaps I shall change my mind about the summer vacation. You
quite took my breath away by asking me to go with you. I couldn't
believe that you would want to travel with any one as silly as I have
continually shown myself to be. You said perhaps there would be one or
two other girls. Have you asked any one else?"
"No, Jean, because I wanted to find out first how you felt about it,
and if you cared to go I wanted you to suggest others that you would
like to have with us. Do you know of any one?"
"Yes, I know of one whom I should prefer above all others and who would
enjoy it more than all others, but I'm not going to tell you who it is
just now, if you don't mind. I've got to think it all over, and after
father has come and we have had a good talk together, I'm going to
take him to your room, if I may, and tell you my decision. I'm very
favorably inclined, though, at the present moment."
"I agree with you that it would be best to leave it until your father
comes and you can talk it over with him. I shall be very glad to have
you bring him to see me as often as you care to while he is here. This
has been a splendid afternoon, Jean, and I thank you for it from the
bottom of my heart and I hope it is the beginning of many others."
"I think you are the one to be thanked, Miss Hooper, and not I."
"Well, perhaps we both can accept the other's thanks if we feel that we
need to, and now I must hurry on or I shall be late for supper and that
is a very poor example for a matron to set her girls. Come and see me
often. Good-by for to-day," and she hurried down the corridor, leaving
Jean smiling at the door.
About a week after this conversation took place a telegram came
informing Jean that her father would arrive in Boston on the next day,
Wednesday, and she was to meet him at the train. It was a very happy
and excited girl who watched the New York express empty its passengers
at the South Station, and she was beginning to fear he had been delayed
somewhere along the way, for at first she could not find him in the
hustling crowd. But after a while, away down the platform, she caught
sight of him waving his hat as he saw her up beside the gate. It was a
joyful meeting, and how their tongues did fly! Mr. Cabot had been to
New Haven to see Tom and Jean insisted upon hearing all about that.
They sat down in the big waiting-room and talked and talked and looked
at each other to be sure it was really they. "I can't believe you're
really here, Daddy; it seems as though I were dreaming. Just pinch me
and see if I am asleep or awake." A hearty pinch assured Jean that she
was awake, but she exclaimed, "Oh, but it's good to have you here with
me!"
"Let me look at you, Jeannie dear; you're changed somehow. You look the
same and still there's something in your face I've never seen there
before. What is it?"
"Nothing, Father, that I know of. I'm just glad I'm alive and you're
with me, that's all. How long can you stay with me? I want to know, for
there are so many things I want you to do and see."
"I must go back to New York to-morrow night, Jean, for I have an
appointment there the following day. How would you like to go back with
me, girlie?"
"Do you mean New York, Father, or California?"
"Well, when I spoke I meant New York, but how about California?"
"I should like to go to New York all right, but not to California. I
did want to go badly only last week, but it's all over now and I've
changed my mind and I want to stay at college the rest of the year and
the other three years, too. And I've something to ask you, Dad, about
this summer." And then she told him about Miss Hooper's plans for the
trip abroad, and they got so interested in it that they forgot entirely
where they were and what time it was.
"Why, Father," exclaimed Jean, "here we're wasting perfectly good time
sitting in an old railroad station when we might be up town or out at
college! Look at the clock; we've been sitting here over two hours.
Why, we won't get any supper if we don't hurry. You can stay with me at
Merton for supper, and then I've engaged a room for you at the Inn for
the rest of the time. I had hoped you would stay over Sunday, anyway.
Just think of all the things I want to show you! When can I do it all?"
"If there isn't time this trip we'll have to do what we can and leave
the rest till next winter, for if you're going away from us all summer
I'll surely have to find a business call east again soon after you
return. Perhaps we had better start now."
There followed a busy twenty-four hours for Jean and her father. He
insisted upon meeting all the girls Jean had written him about and he
talked with them about the events of the year, for he was perfectly
familiar with them through Jean's long, breezy, confidential letters
which reached him every Friday regularly. He was introduced to Mrs.
Thompson and some of the faculty; he was shown the college buildings,
the rare volumes and art treasures in the library, but he wanted most
to see the corridor where Elizabeth had fallen asleep. He considered
that second only in interest to the roof-stairs where Jean had guarded
the flag. He visited the "Pond," and Mrs. McAllister's house, and the
society rooms and every other place Jean could find time to take
him. She had promised Miss Hooper that her father and she would have
afternoon tea with her at four o'clock and she proudly ushered him into
the tiny reception-room at Wellington, which was for Miss Hooper's
private use.
They talked about everything in general and Miss Hooper carefully
avoided all mention of the European trip until Mr. Cabot said, "I think
we ought not to stay much longer, Jean, for you know I must take the
6.17 train for Boston, so hadn't we better tell Miss Hooper what we
have decided about Europe?"
"Yes, Father, but suppose you tell her."
"All right, dear; I'm very glad to do so. I'm very grateful to you,
Miss Hooper, for the great interest you seem to have taken in my
motherless little girl. She's a good girl, though, and I don't blame
any one for taking an interest in her. If she wants to go to Europe
with you for the summer, I tell her she can go, although we'll miss her
terribly out home. She's the light of our house, you know, and it's
going to be pretty lonesome without her, but I want her to see the
world and make the most of herself, for nothing but the best will suit
us. We're pretty particular, that's why we sent her east, and we want
her to stay till you've given her all you've got to give and she feels
she's learned enough to come back to California and take care of us.
She said you wanted some one else to go with you and she does, too, and
when I asked her who it was to be, it didn't take long for her to say
'Elizabeth Fairfax.' So I'm going to send her along with Jean, and I
want you to do the same for both of them. Give them whatever you think
is best for them and plenty of it. Jean doesn't want Elizabeth to know
anything about it yet, for she's planning a surprise, but I'm telling
you now so that you can go ahead with your plans and be ready to start
the day after Tom's commencement. He's counting on having Jean there
that day, for she's got to represent the family, so I shouldn't want to
disappoint him; but after June twentieth, the sooner the better. Wish I
could go with you, but I can't leave the business this year.
"Just one more cup of tea, thank you, and we'll be going. This is the
best tea I've had since I can remember. Have you learned how to make
it, Jean?"
"Yes, Father, I can make tea, but not like Miss Hooper's. Every one
says she makes the best tea in college. Now we must go," and after a
rather protracted leave-taking they almost ran for the train.
As Miss Hooper was washing her tea-dishes and putting them away, she
hummed a little song to herself and said, "No wonder Jean Cabot is such
a splendid girl. How can she help it with such a father?"
And as Jean and her father hastened to the little station, Mr. Cabot
said to Jean, "Mighty fine woman, that Miss Hooper, mighty fine woman.
Almost makes me want to study mathematics myself."
In a few moments he was on the train, waving good-by to Jean, and if
she had not had this great new happiness in her heart it would have
been very hard to let him go back home without her, but she smiled
bravely through her tears and walked back to Merton apparently as happy
as ever.