THE HERO
JANET had just received her morning's mail and sat absorbed in her
letters on the steps of the gymnasium. Edna, near her, was looking over
a newspaper from home, when she heard an exclamation from her roommate
which made her put down her paper and look up.
"Oh, Ted, Ted," cried Janet, "what do you suppose will happen next?
If I didn't want so awfully to be at home this summer, I'd accept the
first invitation that would take me away."
"Why, what on earth?" exclaimed Edna.
"You never in the world will guess," replied Janet. "This letter, if
you please, is from Stuart. He says he realizes that his brotherly
attentions have not been overwhelming, and that he hasn't been near me
this year, but he has been awfully busy, athletics and things besides
the regular grinds, but he means to come up for Class Day. Do you
realize, Ted, that it is less than a month off?"
"I'm beginning to, when I think of exams," said Teddy, with a wry face.
"But go on. I am simply dying to hear what the trouble is to make you
feel so desperate. Surely it isn't because your brother Stuart is
coming."
"Heavens, no. Prepare yourself, Ted. He is going to stay at the
Austins'."
Janet leaned forward and emphasized her words with a tap on the steps
with a folded paper.
"For pity's sake, Janet!"
"You may well say, for pity's sake. Isn't it dreadful? It seems that
he met Mr. Van Austin a few months ago, and they have become quite
intimate. Stuart says, furthermore, that Mr. Austin has heard of me
from his Cousin Marian, and is very anxious to meet me. Oh, is he?
Maybe he is, but how about me? Stuart says a lot of the boys are coming
up, but that he and another man are going to stay at the Austins' and
for me to make no engagements, for he expects that we shall all have a
royal time. He wanted to know about you, and said he hoped you would
not have so many engagements that he should not be able to see you. I
am glad there is the third man for Marian."
Edna looked a little conscious, for her visit to Janet the year before
had developed a mild summer flirtation, which, though it had not been
followed up, was of the nature to break out again as opportunity
afforded.
"To think," Janet went on, "that after all this time, fate has ordained
that we three are to meet, and that we shall see 'the hero' at last.
Isn't it too funny? As you value your life, Teddy, don't ever, ever let
him find out that we have met before. Oh, me, how surprised Becky and
Rosalie will be to see us parading around with him. Don't let us tell
them anything about Stuart's coming, not till we can suddenly spring
the surprise upon them."
Edna agreed, and gathering up their belongings, they walked across the
campus to Hopper Hall.
The days sped by rapidly till they brought the last week of the college
year. Examinations over, Class Day's importance became subservient, in
Janet's estimation, to the fact of the meeting with "the hero" and the
popularity which attached itself to a girl with an agreeable brother.
The boys had promised to arrive the evening before Class Day, and
Marian had brought an invitation to dinner from her aunt, so that both
Edna and Janet were in an unusual state of excitement when the evening
came.
"Dear me," said Edna, twisting herself around to look at the back of
her gown, "I feel all in a flurry. Am I all right, Janet? I don't see
why I should get rattled over a little thing like this. How shall you
feel when you meet old Mr. Austin?"
"Like laughing. We must avoid the sofa; it may suggest the relation
between ourselves and a certain former occasion," said Janet, pinning a
fluffy bit of tulle to her collar. "I believe I won't wear this after
all," she continued, throwing down the knot. "Don't you think I look
better in white, Ted?"
Edna laughed. "I'm not the only nervous one, it seems. Yes, by all
means wear white; that gown with the little round neck, I like you in
that. See how free I am from jealousy when I advise you to wear your
most becoming costume."
"It is a good thing we began to dress in time or we should be in a
perfect rush," said Janet, slipping out of the frock she had first put
on. "I want to get there before the boys, though. Have I changed much
in a year and a half, Ted?"
"I should never recognize you for the same person," returned Edna
laughing. "How about me?"
Janet laughed in turn. "Your own parents would not recognize you, so
great is the change in you. We'll trust to the difference in dress and
time to keep our secret."
"But why," said Teddy, after a thoughtful pause, "why are we so bent
upon its being such a dead secret?"
"I don't know," replied Janet, putting the last touches to her toilet,
"I suppose because we began that way, and we can't get out of the
habit."
"There is nothing disgraceful to account for. It was what might have
happened to any one. We didn't do anything very dreadful, and what we
did, we had to do. Suppose they did find out, what of it?"
"Why, nothing, come to think of it. Nothing at all." Janet laughed.
"Aren't we geese to keep up such a mystery and such an excitement over
a matter the importance of which, and the mystery of which, exists
simply in our imaginations? All the same, I cannot get rid of a sort of
surreptitious feeling whenever I go to that house, and I am conscious
this minute of a real necessity of being very secretive. It is foolish,
but it has grown with my growth and strengthened with my strength.
There, I am ready at last."
"Come, sally forth then."
"Isn't it funny," said Janet, when they had arrived, and were waiting
Marian's appearance, "that we haven't the least idea what that young
man looks like, whether he is tall or short, good-looking or ugly.
There will be two of them, Ted; you decide at first glance which you
think is 'the hero' and I will do the same, then we will tell afterward
which one we thought him to be."
They had not long to wait, for presently Marian came in, then Mrs.
Austin. Later Mr. Austin, senior, arrived and was presented. At the
sound of his throaty voice, Janet gave Teddy a sly look.
"Those boys ought to be here," said the gentleman, fidgeting around.
"That clock is three minutes slow. They are due now; in fact they
should have been here ten minutes ago."
"And here they come," said Marian, who had drawn aside the curtain and
was looking down the street. "They are crossing over. I'd know your
brother at a glance," she said, turning to Janet. "Isn't it funny how
it has all turned out? I met you, and your brother met my cousin all
within a few months, and now we all meet together here. I wonder we
didn't know about the common acquaintance before this."
"Stuart is such a wretched correspondent," Janet told her. "He never
tells you any of the things he ought to."
She had hardly concluded her sentence when Mr. Austin, who had trotted
to the door, welcomed the young men. "Here you are, boys. Fourteen
minutes late, Van."
"Lucky it wasn't fifteen." Janet and Edna recognized the hero's voice.
"The train was a little late, dad. All well?"
"All well, and expecting you. Glad to meet you again, Mr. McBride. Mr.
Ferguson, I don't need an introduction to you. Come right in, boys. The
ladies are here." Mr. Austin ushered the young men into the room. Janet
gave a quick glance at all three before she sprang to meet her brother.
"Hello, sis," he cried, hugging her up to him. "Ah, Miss Teddy, glad to
see you." Then Janet found herself confronting a young man of medium
height, not strictly handsome, but with a pleasant face. She decided
that this must be 'the hero,' and was confused when her brother said:
"My friend, Mr. McBride, Janet. My sister, Don."
In her confusion, Janet sought the nearest seat, which happened to be
the fateful sofa. The next moment, Marian approached.
"Cousin Van says no one has had the consideration to present him to
you, Janet. Mr. Van Austin, Miss Ferguson."
Janet glanced up quickly to see a rather tall young man, with
expressive eyes, a humorous mouth, and a nondescript nose. He was
looking down at her with intense amusement on his face.
"May I sit here?" he asked, dropping into a place by her side. "Do you
know, it seems quite as if I ought to find you sitting here where I
first saw you. How many months ago is it? Over a year, I declare."
The color flew up into Janet's face. "You saw me here?" she stammered.
"Why, yes. If I hadn't been certain the moment I saw you, I should have
been when I heard you laugh. The remarkable thing to me is that we
haven't met before, and that I didn't discover your identity long ago
when I know your brother so well."
The secret was out, and Janet began to laugh.
"Then there isn't any use for me to try to deny anything, I suppose.
I confess to being one of the blind girls. The other one is over
there talking to my brother, who has never heard that charming little
incident of our mock initiation and its result."
"I might not have recognized Miss Waite," Mr. Austin confessed, "for
she looks quite different from my recollection of her. You are coming
down to our Class Day, are you not? We have come up to yours, and it
will be only fair."
"I am not sure whether I can come," said Janet doubtfully. "You see,
though yours is a little later than ours, there is always so much
going on here, that it is hard to get away, but I may come to the
Commencement."
"Be sure that you do, for that is the day when I say farewell to my
Alma Mater, and I shall have need of all the support I can receive from
my friends."
"I am sure you ought to have it from me, for I remember that you gave
me very substantial support on that never-to-be-forgotten occasion of
which we were just speaking."
"I think I must have enjoyed that more than you did. Why could I never
got Becky Burdett to tell me anything about you?"
"Because I didn't want her to tell."
"And why? There was no reason why you should have been so very
cautious, was there?"
"No, only it seemed, so—so flabby."
Van laughed. "I've heard Stuart use that word just so, and I like it.
But it wasn't—flabby; it was only funny. I have tried in every way to
corner Becky, but she was too wary. I hope it was not a very great
trial for you to come here this evening."
"No-o, for, when Stuart wrote that he knew you, I knew that there was
no use trying concealment any longer, and so I resigned myself to the
inevitable. If this is your last year at college, you are a senior,
aren't you? Stuart ought to have been, but he was ill, you know, and
had to drop out of college for a whole year. Mr. McBride is what?"
"A senior, and a very bright fellow. We will show you a good time, if
you come down, Miss Janet."
"Then, as I usually go where I am sure of having a good time, I will
promise to come, and then Stuart and I can go home together. I can pick
him up on the way, you see."
"You'll have to take McBride and myself too, then."
"Why, are you going our way?"
"Hasn't Stuart told you that he has promised us all sorts of a good
time down on the bay, and so we shall have the pleasure of going home
with you."
"Lovely," cried Janet, "for I am going to take two girls home with me.
What fun we can have. There is no place like our dear old bay shore."
"In spite of mosquitoes, and days when the whole earth seems to breathe
heat?"
"Ah, you are prejudiced. The mosquitoes aren't half as bad as they are
made out to be; in some places, there are very few; not half as many
as at some resorts to which people flock in summer time. And, unless
one goes to the Maine coast, it is warm anywhere. I remember one of
the hottest, most luridly sultry days I ever spent in my life was at
Cambridge. We simply seethed, stewed, boiled there the day we went out
to Harvard. It is never any hotter at home than that, as you must know,
and the mosquitoes are not so bad."
"Yes, I confess you are right."
"We about live on the water," Janet told him, "and that is one of the
pleasures I miss here."
"And can you sail a boat?"
"Can I? Wait till I get you out in our darling duck of a 'Delight,' and
I will show you."
"I can scarcely wait. Don't you think you could take me this evening?"
"I can if you have a riotous imagination that lets you see the little
inlets and bays, the tall graceful spars, and the dearest little boat
in the world, sitting on the blue water with the summer sky overhead
and—"
"A skipper whom I don't have to imagine. That is a part of it which it
is no effort to keep in mind, and where the dream cannot exceed the
reality."
"What a very nice speech," said Janet lightly. "It is evident that you
have done other things at college besides study—books."
Then the elder Mr. Austin trotted up to remind them that dinner would
be ready in exactly thirty-four minutes, so Van bore his guests off to
their rooms, and Janet turned her attention to the stout gentleman who
made himself very agreeable.
It was at dinner that this individual, after looking at Janet with a
puzzled expression said: "Miss Ferguson reminds me of some one I have
seen. Can you tell me who it is, my dear?" He addressed his wife.
Van smiled, and gave Janet a quizzical glance. "It is Miss Ferguson
herself, father. You have met her before."
"Really?" The old gentleman adjusted his glasses. "I beg your pardon,
my dear young lady, for not recollecting the fact. I suppose my
memory cannot be as good as it once was, or I could not forget such a
pleasure, as the meeting of a charming person like Miss Janet Ferguson."
"Such a gallant speech deserves that I should elucidate," said his son.
"Don't you think I should tell him, Miss Ferguson?" And without waiting
for a reply he said: "In Miss Ferguson and Miss Waite you see the blind
girls whom you were ready to send to the insane asylum."
"Dear me, dear me," the old gentleman began protesting, "that is too
bad, too bad of you, Van."
"What's all this?" asked Stuart. "I haven't heard any tale of this
kind. What have you been up to, Janet?"
Then the whole story came out, and there was much laughter and many
teasing remarks, and afterward all were upon a more familiar footing.
"We are going to have a giddy-gaddy time," Janet told her brother when
she had the opportunity of a few moments' talk with him.
"When and where?"
"This summer. I've asked Rosalie and Edna for part of the summer, and
Cordelia and Lee for the other part. Mamma said I might."
"Well, I can match you, for I am going to have Van and McBride down for
a few weeks. I've promised them all the fishing and sailing they want,
and if I add the society of some pretty girls, I don't see what more
they can want. What larks we can have. How about the fair maid Marian,
why don't you ask her?"
"I have asked her, but she can't come because she is going abroad to
join Miss Minnie Austin. I'd like to have Becky Burdett, but nothing
will persuade her to give up the Maine coast. I want you to meet Becky,
Stuart. She is great."
"Here, here," said the elder Mr. Austin coming up; "this will never do.
We can't allow brothers and sisters to pair off in this way. You can
see enough of your brother at home, Miss Ferguson; we want him to let
us have you this evening."
Janet wondered as she walked back to Hopper Hall if she would ever
forget that June night. Her hero had fulfilled her expectation. He was
a fact, a tangible reality, by whose side she was walking, to whose
voice she was listening.
The summer stretched out into an indefinite number of beautiful days,
and nights like this, when they could float out into the dimness in a
white-winged boat; days when youthful fun and jollity would hasten the
moments along. Her little heart beat fast, and it was well that none
could see the strange new softness which showed in her brown eyes. She
wanted to get off by herself and dream it all over.
She was so quiet, and gave such monosyllabic answers to Teddy's remarks
that the latter wondered, and asked: "What is the matter, Janet? Did
Stuart have any bad news for you?"
"No," answered Janet. "I think I am only tired."
"But we had a perfectly lovely time, didn't we?" said Teddy.
"Lovely," returned Janet.
"Did you guess the right one? Honor bright, now."
"No, I didn't."
"I did," said Teddy triumphantly.
Janet made no reply. She was already in her own room, and was eager for
the silence and the darkness when she might dream her girlish dreams
undisturbed.