A DISTURBING CONFIDENCE
Grace awoke the next morning with the weight of a disagreeable duty
hanging over her. She had given Jean Brent until after Thanksgiving to
decide upon her course of action. Jean's disregard for her wishes had
already placed the freshman in an unenviable prominence in college.
Conscientious to a fault, Grace believed herself to be partly to blame
for what had occurred during her week-end absence from Harlowe House.
She should have insisted, in the beginning, on absolute frankness on the
part of Jean. She had respected the girl's secret and invested her with
an honor which she did not possess. It now looked as though she, as well
as Jean, might already be in a position to reap the folly of such a
course.
With Miss Wilder as dean, Grace knew that Jean's indiscretion would be
treated with leniency, but she was by no means sure of what Miss
Wharton's attitude might be should the story reach her ears. Grace hoped
devoutly that it would not. But whatever happened Jean Brent must impart
to her what she had hitherto kept a secret. Grace was resolved upon
that much, at least. She could not decide as to the wisest course to
pursue until she had heard Jean's story. She decided to wait until the
girls were at luncheon, then ask Jean to come to her office that
afternoon before dinner. At luncheon, however, greatly to her surprise,
Jean walked directly up to her table and said in a low tone, "I have
decided to tell you my secret, Miss Harlowe. When may I talk with you?"
"I shall be in my office when you come from your classes this afternoon,
or I can wait for you in my room, if you prefer." A great wave of relief
swept over Grace as she answered the girl. She had feared that Jean
would prove stubborn in her determination to keep her secret.
"Thank you. I will come to your office." Jean turned away abruptly.
Emma Dean had noted Jean's unusually meek manner. She had endeavored not
to hear what was not intended for her ears, but low as were Jean's
tones, the words reached her. She made no comment, after Jean had taken
her place at one of the other tables, until Grace remarked, "Emma, you
could hardly help hearing what Miss Brent said to me."
"Yes, I heard what she said," responded Emma unemotionally.
"I am so glad she has decided to trust me."
"It might be better for all concerned if she had trusted you in the
beginning," was Emma's dry retort. "I can't help feeling a trifle out of
patience with that girl, Grace. She had no business to commit an act, no
matter how trivial, that would lay you open to criticism."
"Have you heard any one in particular criticizing me?" asked Grace with
quick anxiety.
Emma did not answer for a moment. Grace watched her, her gray eyes
troubled.
"I'll tell you precisely what I heard this morning. Before I left
Overton Hall to come here for luncheon I stopped for a moment to see
Miss Duncan. Miss Arthur, that new teacher of oratory, was with her. I
walked into the room just in time to hear Miss Duncan say 'I can
scarcely credit it. I am surprised that Miss Harlowe--' then she saw me,
turned red and stopped short. Miss Arthur looked rather sheepishly at
me. I pretended that I had heard nothing, asked the question I intended
to ask, and went on my way, much perturbed in spirit. I can't bear to
hear you criticized in the smallest degree, Grace," was Emma's vehement
cry. "I am sure it was about this sale they were talking. It's all very
well for Miss Brent to take the stand that she has the privilege of
doing as she pleases with her own clothing, but there is something
about the very idea of a sale of wearing apparel that quite upsets
Overton traditions and causes Harlowe House to lose dignity. One can't
imagine an enterprising clothes merchant living at Holland or Morton
House or even at Wayne Hall. The students should have had the good taste
to discourage it, but, from what I hear, Miss Palmer had expatiated on
the glories of Miss Brent's wardrobe to the clique of girls she chums
with, and they gathered like flies about a honey pot. You'll usually
find the girls with the largest allowances are always eager to obtain
much for the smallest possible outlay. I think, too, that Miss Palmer's
influence is not wholesome. It led to Evelyn Ward's folly last year.
Evelyn hasn't been unduly friendly with her so far this year. I've
noticed that."
"I can't believe Evelyn had anything to do with this sale," asserted
Grace. "She may have known of it, but she never sanctioned it."
"At least she didn't attend it," commented Emma, "but, come to think of
it, neither did Althea Parker. Don't you remember, I mentioned to you
that I met Evelyn on the campus that fateful Saturday and she said she
was going to spend the afternoon with Miss Parker?"
"Then if Miss Parker was ringleader in the affair, why didn't she have
the courage to attend the sale?" was Grace's quick question.
"For further information inquire of Miss Brent," advised Emma, shrugging
her shoulders.
"I will," sighed Grace. "I seem fated to puzzle over hard questions,
don't I?"
It was half-past four o'clock when Jean Brent entered the office where
Grace sat idly turning the leaves of a magazine.
"Sit down, Miss Brent," invited Grace. Then in her usual direct fashion,
"I am ready to listen to anything you wish to say."
Jean Brent flushed, then the color receded from her fair skin, leaving
her very pale. In a low tone she began a recital that caused Grace
Harlowe's eyes to become riveted on her in intense surprise, mingled
with consternation. An expression of lively sympathy sprang into her
face, however, as the story proceeded, and when Jean had finished with a
half sob, Grace stretched out her hands impulsively with, "You poor
little girl."
Jean clasped the outstretched hands and murmured, "You don't blame me so
much, then, do you, Miss Harlowe?"
"No, I can't," Grace made honest answer, "but I am so sorry that you did
not come to me with this in the beginning. I could have helped you
arrange your affairs nicely. You could have borrowed money from the
Semper Fidelis Fund and later, if you were desirous of selling your
wardrobe you could have disposed of it in New York City for fully as
much as you have received for it here. A dear friend of mine in New York
who is an actress has often told me that the women of the various
theatrical companies who play minor parts are only too glad to purchase
attractive wearing apparel which society women sell after one wearing."
"I didn't know. I am sorry I didn't tell you long ago." Jean was
thoroughly penitent. "Will it make so very much difference now?"
"I hope not. It is hard to say. Unfortunately the news of the sale has
reached the ears of several members of the faculty. Not only you, but I,
as well, have been criticized. We can do nothing except wait for the
gossip about it to die a natural death." Grace's quiet acceptance of the
unpleasantness which Jean's rash act had forced upon her stung the
freshman far more sharply than reproof.
"I can go to the dean and tell her what I have told you," faltered Jean.
Grace shook her head. "No, I should not advise it. This affair belongs
entirely to Harlowe House and should be settled here. I will write to
Miss Lipton to-night. If Miss Wilder were here I should not hesitate to
place matters before her, but I am not so sure of Miss Wharton, the
woman who is filling Miss Wilder's position. For the present, at least,
silence will be best. If Miss Wharton hears of it and sends for you,
then you had better be frank and conceal nothing."
"Do you mean that you intend to keep my secret, Miss Harlowe; that you
will let me stay on at Harlowe House and finish my freshman year?"
"Yes; not only the freshman year, but your sophomore, junior and senior
years as well, provided Miss Lipton approves and advises it. I shall
write to her exactly what has occurred. She is nearest to you and
therefore to her belongs the decision. But, while I am endeavoring to
work for your interest I wish you to work for it, too. I would like to
see you more self-reliant. You have been brought up in luxury, but you
must forget that. As matters now stand you will one day be obliged to
earn your own living. You must build your foundation for a useful life
during your freshman year."
Grace's voice vibrated with an earnestness that visibly moved her
listener.
"I will try. I _will_ try," she declared fervently. "It is wonderful in
you to care so much about me, when I have been so troublesome."
"We won't think of that any longer," smiled Grace. "However, there is
one question which I must ask you. Did Miss Ward know of the sale?"
"No," admitted Jean, looking ashamed. "I kept it a secret from her. Miss
Parker purposely invited her to luncheon that afternoon. She picked out
the things she wanted to buy beforehand and took them out afterward.
Evelyn was very angry. We quarreled, and have not spoken to each other
since. It was my fault."
"Then, to please me, will you try to be friends with Miss Ward again?"
"Yes."
"You must tell no one else what you have told me," stipulated Grace
further. "It must be a secret between us."
"I will tell no one," promised Jean.
The ringing of the door bell and the entrance of the maid with a card,
brought the confidential talk to an end. Grace rose and held out her
hand. "I must go," she said. "I will talk with you again when I hear
from Miss Lipton."
"Thank you over and over again, Miss Harlowe." Jean's eyes were lit with
a strength of purpose rarely seen in them. As she left the office and
thoughtfully climbed the stairs to her room she resolved anew to be
worthy of Grace Harlowe's approval and respect.