"Well, it would be a calamity anywhere else in the world, but nothing is
ever bad at Hilltop." Gwendolyn Matthews and Poppy were in the Twins'
room, and a crowd of girls were listening to what they had to say with
flattering attention.
"Not even Thanksgiving away from home?" Prue demanded with a little
pout.
It had just been decreed by Miss Hull and the faculty that there would
be no Thanksgiving recess this year. Several cases of measles had broken
out in the past week, and the school doctor had ordered a quarantine.
Such a thing had never happened before, and the seniors were doing their
best to cheer up the many disappointed girls. Gwen and Poppy had
selected Twins' room to go to first of all, for they were pretty sure
that they would find a goodly number of the girls there.
"It's only four days, Prue," Poppy said consolingly, "and Miss Hull says
we are to have a longer Christmas vacation to make up, besides no
lessons for the four days now. You all must admit, that's fair enough."
"Of course, it's fair," Prue agreed readily; "but, well I had a very
special engagement this Thanksgiving, and I hate to give it up."
"I was going to visit Ann's uncle," Gladys said sadly, "and now, of
course, I can't."
"Well, you will some other time," Prue suddenly turned cheerful.
It is always so easy to make light of other people's disappointments,
particularly when you are comparing them with your own. They always seem
small in comparison.
"Don't be too sure of that," Ann laughed her quiet little laugh. "Uncle
Lacey doesn't offer invitations very often, and he is not so terribly
fond of me. He's probably delighted to receive my telegram, and has
already made up his mind that he has done his duty to his sister's only
daughter, and with a sigh of relief returned to his library."
"Poor Glad!" Sally laughed, "cruel uncle refuses second invitation and
Ann and Glad have to find other host for Christmas." Both girls lived at
a considerable distance from school.
"Not for Christmas," Ann denied. "I am going home for that blessed day,
and so is Glad, aren't you honey?"
"I most certainly am," Glad replied. "Christmas is one day when I must
be with my mother, not to mention my small brothers and sisters."
"What were _you_ going to do that was so exciting, Prue?" Janet inquired
carelessly.
"I was going to New York," Prue replied. "I have never been there in my
whole life." She spoke as though she were ninety. "And Daddy promised to
take me this year. We were going to meet my brother John, he's a
freshman at Princeton, you know," she added with pride. "And, oh dear,
we were going to have a simply wonderful time, and now just because the
Red Twins and that horrid little Ethel Rivers have the measles, I can't
go. John will be so disappointed."
"Don't worry about brother," Gladys teased. "It's my opinion that he
will be quite relieved. Grown-up boys are never very crazy about their
baby sisters, especially when their friends are around. You know, Prue
darling, you may feel terribly grown-up, but you still wear your hair
down your back, and to boys that means you are still a babe and beneath
their notice."
"That isn't so at all, Glad," Prue protested. "John and I have always
been the best of friends and he would like to introduce me to his
friends, I know he would."
"John is in college now," Gladys spoke with cool and perfect assurance,
"and that makes all the difference in the world. I guess I ought to
know, I've had three brothers at Yale."
"Perhaps that accounts for it, Yale isn't Princeton." Prue was almost in
tears but she managed to smile as she said this.
The other girls laughed.
"I reckon you'd better admit defeat," Poppy teased. "Prue got ahead of
you that time sure enough."
Gladys drew herself up, and tried to make her roly-poly little self look
imposing as she replied:
"When Prue has had as much experience with brothers as I have, she will
come to me and humbly beg my pardon and tell me I am right," she laughed
suddenly. "Never will I forget the dance my youngest brother took me to
when he was home for his first Christmas vacation. It was at the Country
Club, and because it was Christmas all the younger kids went."
"I know about that kind of dance," Poppy interrupted. "Nobody has a very
good time."
"Well, I know _I_ didn't," Gladys admitted. "I felt very elegant when I
left home. Ted had on full dress and looked magnificent, and I had let
my best party dress down--" she stopped abruptly and fell to playing a
tatoo on the arm of her chair.
"Go on, Glad, we're listening," Phyllis urged. "What happened when you
arrived at the dance?"
Gladys looked from girl to girl, then she said quietly: "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Sally protested. "Oh, Glad, don't be irritating!"
"I'm not trying to be," Glad replied. "Simply nothing happened. Ted left
me as soon as he found some of my old maid cousins that he could leave
me with, and he only came back and danced with me once. He brought a boy
to meet me that wore glasses because he was cross-eyed, and he
stuttered. I danced with him once and then I went into the dressing room
and took off my slippers. My feet were almost broken, and the next day
they were black and blue. He had tramped all over them."
"Well?" several voices demanded as Gladys paused.
"There's nothing more to tell. I wept into somebody's opera cape until
it was time to go home, and during the drive I fell asleep on Ted's
shoulder. I didn't think he understood until the next day, when Mother
asked me if I'd had a good time. I said I had, and after breakfast Ted
took me to the village and filled me full of ice cream, and on the way
home he explained very gently what a nice thing a sister could be, a
sort of little comfort, you know, and then on the other hand, what a
dreadful little bore. I didn't need the talk, I'd learned my lesson. I
stay at home now and fix the studs in their dress shirts when they want
to go out, and if it's cold I stay up and make hot soup for them, but I
never ask to tag along."
Nothing was said after Gladys stopped, for a minute or two. The girls
were all thinking hard. Most of them had brothers or cousins and they
all understood.
"Perhaps if I'd treated my brother like that," Gwen said with a laugh
that held sadness in it, "he might have been a better friend of mine now
than he is; but I always tagged along and he got thoroughly sick of me.
I dance about as well as your cross-eyed friend, Glad."
Phyllis was thinking of Tom, and being thankful that he was so much
older than she and Janet, that they had never had the chance to make
Gwen's mistake.
Janet was thinking of Peter and wondering. Peter Gibbs was a boy she had
known back in Old Chester. They had shared the Enchanted Kingdom
together, and he had taken the place of her brother long before Tom had
arrived to claim the right. Janet was fonder of Peter than she really
knew, and she found herself suddenly wondering if he had outgrown her,
now that he was in college. She made a firm resolve to take Gladys's
advice.
"Well, thank goodness, Chuck isn't in college yet," Daphne said
suddenly, and Sally and the Twins laughed.
Then, as so often happens, when a room-full of people have been quietly
thinking, everyone began to talk at once. They dismissed the subject of
brothers and returned to the holidays. They made plans for all of the
days, except Thanksgiving Day itself.
"Something's bound to happen then," Gwen assured them. "Miss Hull will
probably ask one of the classes to entertain."
"You know it will be the Seniors," Poppy replied reproachfully, "and
what we will do at so short notice I'm sure I don't know." This in
Poppy's complaining tones made the girls all laugh.
"Cheer up, Poppy, we'll all help you, no matter what," Sally promised.
"We might have a real old-fashioned pillow fight between the wings; that
would liven us up a bit," she suggested. "I admit I feel rather
depressed myself."