PLOTS AND PLAYS
Meanwhile a very different scene was being enacted in the Granger Place
Seminary.
Gwynette Poindexter-Jones occupied the largest and most attractively
furnished room on the second floor of the dormitory building, and her two
best friends shared the one adjoining. There was a bath between with
doors opening upon a narrow private corridor.
Gwynette had not liked the room when she first arrived, as it was, she
declared, too “barnlike” in its barrenness. Miss Granger regretted this,
as she assured the daughter of her richest patron, but she really could
not furnish the rooms to please the young ladies, and there was no other
apartment available at that late period of the term.
The haughty Gwynette had then requested that the furniture in the room be
removed. After this had been done, she brought from her mother’s home by
the sea handsome mahogany pieces upholstered in rich blue. There were
portieres and window hangings to match and priceless pictures adorned the
walls. The furnishing in the room of her friends had remained unchanged
and was far more appropriate, in that it suggested studiousness rather
than indolence and luxury.
Gwynette, in a velvet dressing robe of the same rich blue embroidered
with gold in chrysanthemum design, was lying at full length on a
many-cushioned lounge, a blue and gold slipper dangling from the toe of
one foot. She was reading a forbidden novel, and eating chocolate creams,
when there came a soft tap on the door leading into the main corridor.
Gwynette always kept it locked that she need not be surprised by the
appearance of Madam Vandeheuton, monitor of the dormitory, or by one of
the infrequent visits of Miss Granger herself. Sitting erect, the girl’s
eyes narrowed as she pondered.
Should she keep very still and pretend that she was out, or——
Her thought was interrupted by a low voice calling: “Gwyn, let us in,
can’t you!” Languidly the girl rose and, after unlocking the door, she
inquired of the two who entered: “What’s the idea? You know the door
between our rooms is always unlocked. Couldn’t you come in that way?”
Beulah Hollingsworth reached down to the little blue velvet stool near
the couch and helped herself to a chocolate. “Of course we could have
come the usual way, only we were passing through the corridor and so this
door was nearer.”
“Well, don’t do it again. I implore.” Gwynette once more stretched at
full length and ease as she remarked indolently, “It’s easier for you to
go around than for me to get up. Well?”
She looked inquiringly at Patricia Sullivan. “Did you call on the sphynx
and get at her secret? Sit down, do! It makes me tired to see you
standing so stiffly as though you had ramrods for backbones.”
Both of the girls sat down, one on a Louis XVI chair and the other on one
of recent and more comfortable design. Beulah began—
“Yes, we called and found Clare Tasselwood as uncommunicative as she was
when we met her in the garden and tried to draw her out.”
Patricia continued—
“But I am more than ever convinced that the secretive Clare is the
daughter of a younger son of a noble English family. My theory is that
she is going to keep quiet about it until the older son dies, and then
those who befriended her when she was unknown will be honored as her
guests when she takes her rightful place.”
“Well, I for one shall cultivate her. An invitation to visit the castle
home of Lord Tasselwood would be most welcome to me. You girls may do as
you please about it.” Gwynette was again in a sitting posture and she
glanced inquiringly at her companions. They both declared that they
wished to be included. “Then, firstly, we must obtain permission to give
a spread worthy of her presence, at The Palms, no less, even if it costs
our combined allowances for a month.”
Then they planned together what they would wear and whom they would
invite. “We’ll ask my brother to bring down as many cadets as we have
girls,” was Gwyn’s final decision.
When Clare Tasselwood received the gilt-edged invitation, there was a
little twist to one corner of her month which was her way of smiling when
she was amused, and cynical. She had overheard a conversation the day
they had met in the garden. “The Lady Clara of Tasselwood Manor accepts
with pleasure,” she told her reflection in the mirror.