SKIING ON HIGH HILL
When the girls gathered again at Greycliff after the winter
vacation, there was much to tell. Lilian and Hilary exchanged
confidences, and Cathalina told Betty all about her vacation days,
and the romance surrounding Philip and Lilian. Lilian had left her
ring at home with her mother, for safe keeping and lest she be
tempted to wear it. But her “chains” she wore constantly, and took
great comfort in the thought that Philip considered them quite as
binding as a ring. She was quite sober at times, plunged into her
work with determination, finding time, however, for two long letters
a week to Philip, and wrote more poetry than ever.
Virginia’s candy went off like hot cakes, as she said, giving her a
comfortable little sum to begin on. She planned to make more of the
popular varieties every Saturday. In a talk with Miss Randolph, she
was assured that she might pay over what she had at the beginning of
the next semester, and wait to settle finally until the end. This
relieved her mind of all immediate worry, for there was a prospect
of her winning one of the prizes. Affairs might prove better with
her father also, by that time, and meanwhile she would earn and save
all she could. She had a complete outfit for mending, with all
shades of thread, silk or cotton, and plenty of darning cotton. Her
business descended upon her “like the wolf on the fold,” she said.
“Talk about one’s business growing! I don’t even need to advertise.
I didn’t know there were so many lazy girls that hate to do anything
for themselves!” Here Virginia cocked her head on one side. “That
isn’t really true, though, Isabel. I know all you girls have planned
to waste your pin money on me by having as much done as possible.
I’ll have to make a new schedule of hours, and see how much time I
can afford to spend on this without neglecting my lessons.”
“And you must plan to take enough exercise, too, Virgie,” said
Isabel. “It wouldn’t pay to get sick.”
“No; but a little skating and skiing will give me what I need, with
the walking to and from class, and I want to get ahead on funds
while it is winter, before the lovely days come in the spring. I
thought perhaps I could get one of the bird prizes, too, for an
original description and a long bird list. Has the list of prizes
been posted yet?”
“I haven’t seen anything of it! I think it should be pretty soon,
though, if there is anything new, so we could be working toward it.”
“If I can just get the academy diploma I shall be partly satisfied.
I think I could get some country school to teach out near home,
where I could see Father occasionally, and perhaps I could go to
college later.”
“Cathalina told me that her Aunt Katherine talked last Commencement
time with Miss Randolph about some collegiate scholarships to be
offered by Cathalina’s father, just as they have in high schools,
you know. Now, if that happens, you will know that they weren’t just
established for you.”
“No, that would be all right. But Miss Randolph did not say a word
about anything like that.”
“Probably they aren’t ready to announce them yet, though you would
think that they would in the fall.”
“Not if the idea is new and undecided. I’m working as hard as I can,
anyhow, on all my lessons. You ought to get the first prize for
scholarship, Isabel. I shall not be a bit jealous of you. I have had
too much to make up; but if they give several scholarships I ought
to get one, I think.”
Betty had been up in Canada with her mother during the vacation, and
came back with stories of skating, skiing, and all sorts of winter
sports.
“We went on account of my aunt, you know. She is so worried about
the boys in France all the time, and is getting thin trying not to
show it. But I had the most wonderful time. I know so many of the
young folks up there.”
“Didn’t you ’most freeze?” asked Pauline. This was at the first
meeting of the Psyche Club in the beginning of the second week of
school.
“No, indeed; you dress for it. And I don’t see that it is so much
farther north than this, after all.”
“Did your skis get here, all right, girls?” asked Juliet, of Isabel
and Virginia.
“Yes. We tried walking on them Saturday. But I don’t see how we are
going to do much more than that!”
“I’ll show you,” offered Betty. “Do your brothers know how, Isabel?”
“Pretty well. It’s a new sport in the town, and they haven’t any
very good hills there. I feel so clumsy with my skis on—don’t see
how you ever manage them.”
“It is like everything else, you have to learn. How did you learn to
stand up with skates on? Oh, it’s just wonderful when you learn to
take those jumps, with your pole to balance you—you feel as if you
are flying!”
“Until you come down!”
“Yes, but you learn to land just right. Of course, there will be
accidents, but if the snow is deep and soft it doesn’t hurt to take
a tumble once in a while. Let’s all go out and practice Saturday.
Can you spare the time, Virginia?”
“Oh, yes; I’ll have to take a little recreation on Saturdays. I’m
planning to make one or two batches of candy on Friday afternoon,
after classes.”
“I’ll help you with the nuts, Virgie,” said Isabel. “And if we get
up early Saturday, you can have your candy made and sold by noon.
All of us will be busy in the morning.”
“Speaking of skiing, girls,” said Lilian, “I have the most lovely
song. Perhaps you have seen it or heard it, Eloise. I learned it
this vacation. ‘My Lover, He Comes on the Skee,’ it is called. It is
a Norwegian love-song.”
“No, I haven’t it,” said Eloise.
“We must try it, then.”
“Don’t expect me to play it for you,” said Cathalina, with a gesture
of dismissal as far as she was concerned. “It has an awful
accompaniment.”
“‘Awful!’” exclaimed Lilian. “It is beautiful—the most inspiring,
rippling thing!”
“I mean, my dear, that it is hard to play. Here it is,” said
Cathalina, lifting a pile of books to take the sheet of music from
the table. “Look at those runs, Hilary. Do you blame me? But Philip,
of course, played it easily.”
“The accompaniment is half of its attraction,” said Lilian,
exhibiting the song to Eloise, who was naturally interested and
hummed the air as they went through it. “You get a picture of the
action in every line, and I love it where it repeats ‘the wind in
his wake is singing.’ Then, here at the end it is so effective.”
Cathalina turned to Hilary with a smile, saying aside, “‘I love
thee’ is repeated several times, with growing emphasis! Of course
she and Philip sang that in unison! But it really is a glorious
love-song, and Lilian’s voice is so clear and full on it. No wonder
she likes it. Phil gave it to her. I don’t think it has been out
very long.”
“Let’s go down to the Shakespearean Hall and try it over,” suggested
Isabel. “I have the key.”
“But who’ll play it?” asked Cathalina.
“Evelyn will try it, I know,” said Hilary. “She can play anything at
sight.”
“So can you, Hilary,” said loyal Lilian, “but it will be fine if
Evelyn will do it. Will you, Evelyn?”
“What is it?” asked Evelyn, who had been talking to Olivia. “Oh,
that? Yes, I know it. The voice teacher gave that to one of the
senior girls just before the holidays. I played the accompaniment
for her two or three times.”
For several days the girls hummed or sang the song, and made ready
to go skiing on “high hill,” as they called it, the hill back of
Greycliff’s buildings, which sloped away from the direction of the
river over a broad expanse of unfenced land. It was not steep enough
to be dangerous for the girls, the authorities had concluded, and on
Saturday afternoon a number of the girls gathered there, some of
them to learn, others to enjoy a sport to which they were
accustomed. There were, indeed, several hills from which to make a
start, and this proved good for the learners. They could practice
without getting in the way of the more experienced.
Isabel and Virginia were laughing over their various attempts, and
Betty was alternately showing them with great patience and shooting
down the hill herself, when a group of young men came round from
behind Greycliff, making for the brow of the hill. “Look!” exclaimed
one of the girls. “There are a lot of boys with their German
professor!”
“They have gotten permission at Greycliff to use the hill,” said
another. “Do you suppose we’ll have to go?”
“Of course not,” replied the first. “Miss Randolph knew we were out
here. Unless she sends for us, we can stay.”
More life was naturally infused into the scene when the boys began
to take part. Greetings were exchanged between those who knew each
other, and Captain Holley watched with interest the flying figure of
Betty, who happened to have started down hill before they arrived.
Hastily adjusting his own skis, he was next on the track and arrived
in time to help Betty uphill again. Poor Donald Hilton was having
trouble with his skis and watched the handsome young officer, whom
he now considered his rival with Betty, with rising wrath. A
graceful figure Rudolph Holley made as he started down the long
track again. His staff in air, he jumped as only a practised
performer could do, while Betty and the other girls watched
admiringly.
Betty was not aware how unsatisfactory her manner was to Donald that
afternoon. He came up to visit with her, and they chatted together
on different topics, but he found her too much interested in skiing
to permit of much visiting. She had no idea that Donald had anything
special on his mind, having asked him at first if he had found out
who had fixed his room before the military reception. He had replied
that one of the boys had owned up to it, and she had taken that as
final. Donald, however, had much more to tell, but the circumstances
were not propitious. Donald could do well himself on the skis, but
there was something the matter with one this afternoon. He barely
saved himself from a bad tumble the first time, and considered that
he had been about as awkward as a beginner. This before Betty did
not please him, particularly since there was such a handsome expert
in the group.
On Betty’s part there was her great love for winter sports. She was
much interested in Donald, liked him, felt happy when she was with
him, and had confidence in him. But she was not in love, in spite of
the romance of their first meeting. Probably neither Donald nor
Betty had analyzed their feelings at this stage. It was youth and
young romance, and nothing very serious. To Betty life was full of
good times. Donald, too, had his friends among the boys, and many a
jolly performance was staged at the military school. Before the
girls left, however, Donald had opportunity to ask Betty if he might
call.
“Yes, indeed,” said she. “I rather expected you before the
holidays—that is, you said you were coming.”
“I know it, and you were good to say I might come, but I had all
those demerits and I could not prove that I had not done those
things myself. Consequently, I am on probation for the rest of the
time before Christmas. Didn’t you get my note?”
“No. Did you write one?”
“I certainly did. That makes another queer thing.”
“Perhaps you didn’t address it correctly.”
“I don’t see how I could help it. I think I can get off next week
Friday or Saturday, and will telephone to make sure. Will I have to
write to Miss Randolph?”
“We are allowed calls on Saturday afternoon. Just send in your card
to Miss Randolph, with my name, too. What time will you come?”
“About three o’clock.”
“I shall be ready to see you at that time, then. Don’t get any more
demerits!”
“No, not if I can help it. I remember that the ice carnival will be
held again some day. May I speak to skate with you?”
“Does the best skater in the military school have any doubts as to
that?”
“Meaning me?”
“Meaning you.”
Somewhat consoled for his lack of prowess in skiing that afternoon,
Donald determined to keep from demerits, as Betty had urged, to buy
a new pair of skis, and to practice his more favorite diversion, the
skating, that he might not lost first place in that.