AN ACCIDENTAL MEETING.
Long since Sidney Thorne had spoken to Shirley, for she found out that
her suspicions of an intent to embarrass her were entirely unfounded.
Her manner toward Shirley had not even been unfriendly for some time
but when she found that Shirley was going to Chicago as the guest of
Caroline, she was almost indignant. The girls knew that it would be
embarrassing for her. Why did they invite Shirley? Now, unless she
wanted to have complications arise, she could not invite Shirley to the
affairs that she wanted to have for the Double Three. Well, she would
just _leave_ Shirley out, if she did come from the same school. You did
not have to be intimate with everybody!
Such was Sidney’s attitude. Shirley thought of it, too, and felt
rather sorry for Sidney, supposing, of course, that Sidney wanted to
be courteous, as she had always been except on that one occasion,
which had never been explained between them. But it would not affect
Shirley’s good time in the least.
The Double Threes had gone on ahead, leaving on the first train, with
the exception of Hope Holland, who waited for Caroline and Shirley,
the three preferring to go by themselves, though it was only a tacit
understanding among them.
How jolly it was to have no lessons and to be facing the best vacation
of the year in thrills and Christmas festivities. Shirley’s winter coat
was all that could be desired, and she was to buy a new hat in Chicago,
though the hat which she had brought, with her coat, was becoming and
still good. Sidney would have no reason to be ashamed of her double.
Cards from Hope and Caroline had warned their families of showing too
much surprise at a remarkable resemblance between Shirley Harcourt and
Sidney Thorne. As a result, while they were almost startled, in spite
of the warning, there was to be no embarrassing moment for Shirley.
She was to go first to Hope’s; but at the station two cars met the
girls, one from each household. Mr. Scott reached them first and was
introduced to Shirley. “I have met you once before, Mr. Scott,” said
Shirley after shaking hands.
“Why, when, my child?” asked kindly Mr. Scott.
“Last summer, when I was in Chicago for a few days. You came up to me
in a hotel and shook hands with me. I thought it was some graduate of
our university, till you told me that Mrs. Scott and the girls had gone
up to Wisconsin and assumed that I knew about it.”
“Then it was you instead of Sidney!” laughed Mr. Scott. “I remember
that I was puzzled, for Sidney was supposed to have left the city some
time before.”
But here came two youths hurrying across through the crowd to them.
“Hello, Hope. How do you do, Mr. Scott? Caroline, how you’ve grown!
Isn’t that always the thing to say to returning children?” The taller
of the two boys was shaking hands with Caroline, after this speech, and
put an arm around Hope, as he waited to be introduced to her friend.
In a moment Shirley found herself in a handsome car, sitting behind
with Hope, while the two young men sat in front, the older one driving
skilfully through the traffic of Chicago. “Little did I think, Hope,”
said Shirley, “when I was here last summer, or even last fall on the
way to school, that at Christmastime I’d be back to visit with a dear
girl like you.”
“I want you many more times, Shirley. I’m sorry that Madge had to go
home, but after all, it’s nice to have you to ourselves. Some way,
people get to loving you, Shirley, did you know that?”
“No I didn’t,” laughed Shirley. “I think that it’s ‘your imagination
and a beautiful dream,’ as Auntie is fond of saying.”
“You did not know that I had such big brothers, did you? I told them
all about you, though. I have one more, and no sisters at all.”
Shirley looked at the two young men in front of her, used to the ways
of the city, capable, interesting. Mac, who was driving, looked not
in the least like Hope, though he had her serious look when his face
was in repose, as now. Good, clear features marked the profile that
Shirley saw. His face was rather thin and the hands on the wheel were
well-shaped. Ted, the other brother, was not as tall as Mac, but looked
as old; his eyes and the shape of his face were like Hope.
“They look as if they were the same age, don’t they?” asked Hope. “Ted
is not quite a year older than I am, and Mac is just a year older than
Ted. We were all little together and my, how Mother ever stood our
playing and fussing I don’t know. Kenneth is fourteen, only three years
younger than I am, but he is somewhat spoiled as the ‘baby’ of the
family.”
It was pleasant to be welcomed into the beautiful home of the Hollands.
Shirley shared Hope’s room and thought it “lovely;” but Hope said that
they were selling the house soon and would move into a suburb farther
out.
Shirley knew little about changes in a city and these things did
not concern her. Immediately she entered upon one happy event after
another. Mac, so full of fun, yet so serious upon occasion, took a
great fancy to Shirley and saw that she missed nothing. When she went
to Caroline’s just before Christmas Day, Mac did not desert her, but
drove over, with gifts from the Hollands, while Caroline said that she
never had so much attention in her life as now from the Holland boys
and their friends. Shirley did not even know that Sidney had had a
great party for the Double Three, for Hope was over early that evening
and went to Sidney’s late, in plenty of time for this event. Caroline
sent regrets because of a previous engagement, which was an evening
with Mac and one of his friends.
“I thought that you were like Sidney at first,” said Mac, “but I’d
never confuse you two after a good look, Shirley. Sidney is a fine girl
and she may learn a few things about people after a while; but you have
a different viewpoint and it makes you sweeter.”
“Why, that is nice of you to say,” said the surprised Shirley, “but I
didn’t know that you were so--,” she paused for a word and Mac said,
“‘observing,’ isn’t it?”
“No; that would be admitting that you are right.”
“Analytical, then, or philosophical. Remember that I am going to
college!”
“Oh, you ought to know Dick. He is in our university at home, the one
where my father teaches.” There, it was out. Shirley had changed her
mind about not speaking of her wonderful father.
“Is your father a university professor? That explains it, then.” Mac
looked as if he would like to go on, but was not sure whether he dared
or not.
“What it explains I don’t know,” laughed Shirley, “but so far as Dad
is concerned, he is mighty fine, even if he never has much money and
puts it into his line of work or gives it back to the college. And he’s
always doing things in one way or another for his students.”
“That is about what I was going to say, Shirley, doing big things on
next to nothing. The reason I know anything about it is that we have a
friend like that. But who’s Dick? Her best college friend? Don’t tell
me that I have to label you ‘Taken!’”
“I don’t know what to make of you, Mac. Ought I to be offended? You are
so funny that I can’t be. No; Dick is my cousin and I’m going to bring
him up for the Prom to meet our girls. I told him not to have too much
of a college ‘case’ till he saw them.”
“I tell you what would be delightful to do,” said Mac. They were
sitting together on a hall seat at the Hollands, while they waited for
Hope, who had gone upstairs after her gloves which were missing. Mac
was to drive them to Caroline’s.
“There are other young men who would be interested in being entertained
by some charming damsel other than their sisters.” Mac paused and
looked meaningly at Shirley. “Why not arrange for Dick with, say, the
sister of one of said young men, or one of her other friends?”
“It would be possible, even if Dick came as my guest,” said Shirley,
“for me to see something of, well, any of ‘said young men.’”
“How dearly I love my sister, only time will prove,” said Mac, rising
and taking hold of Hope on the lowest step. Hope looked suspiciously at
her brother, stopping in her descent.
“What now, Malcolm?” she said, severely, but breaking out into her own
cheery smile as she looked at the laughing Shirley. “Such displays of
affection usually mean something, Shirley,” Hope continued, “but I’ll
do almost anything for you, Mac, for taking us around the way you are
doing.”
“I am always willing to sacrifice myself for my only sister,” asserted
Mac, with a perfectly serious face. But Mac Holland did not keep up
his joking about the Prom or indulge in any personal remarks after
this, and Shirley liked him all the better when he was his normal self,
full of fun, to be sure, but with something better than that about
him. He saw that Shirley and his sister heard some of the holiday
entertainments that Chicago can supply, quietly taking care of them in
a gentlemanly way.
The girls had two weeks’ vacation, which they enjoyed to the full.
After Shirley had visited with Caroline, she came back to Hope,
yielding to many urgings, for Mr. and Mrs. Holland liked Shirley. There
were only a few occasions on which Shirley met people who took her for
Sidney Thorne; but Hope repeated a remark that had been made to Mac.
“‘I did not know that you knew Sidney Thorne so well, Mac, and went
around with her so much,’ somebody said to Mac the other day, Shirley,”
said Hope. “And Mac never explained at all!”
It was not until toward the last of her stay in Chicago that Shirley
met any one connected with Sidney. As the girls had told Sidney, they
could not muzzle their fathers. Mr. Scott, in particular, Caroline made
no attempt to caution. Why should she? Sidney might just as well let
her father and mother know about the lovely girl that looked like her.
It happened, then, that Mr. Scott said to Mr. Thorne, “Odd, Thorne, but
my daughter brought home from school a young girl who looks enough like
your daughter to be her twin.”
“There are close resemblances sometimes, I suppose,” returned Mr.
Thorne, who was preoccupied with the bonds about which he had come to
the bank.
“But this isn’t any ordinary close resemblance, Thorne. Did you ever
have any relatives named Harcourt?”
“None that I ever heard of. Say Scott, I’ll drop in tomorrow to see
if you have gotten hold of what I want beside these. Regards to your
wife. Mine is happy these holidays with her daughter from school. Good
morning.”
That very afternoon the incident occurred which brought Shirley to
the notice of Sidney’s father, a surprising experience. The Holland
chauffeur, who had little to do when the Holland boys were at home, had
taken the girls to do some shopping. It was Shirley’s last opportunity
to make such purchases as she needed before going back to school. They
had run across Caroline, who accompanied them when Shirley went to have
a dress tried on, one which she had seen before but just decided to
buy. Some alterations were to be made and when Shirley saw how Hope
looked as she sat waiting she suggested that the girls need not wait
for her. “You have a headache, Hope, I know, and I shall have to wait
a little while. Go on home, do. I can come by street car. I know right
where to go, for Mac told me one time, for fear I might get lost.”
Caroline looked at Hope. “Yes, Hope, you are half sick; but I tell you
what we’ll do. I’ll take you home, and Hope can tell her chauffeur to
wait for Shirley. Shirley knows where the car is parked. I’d have to
leave you in a minute anyhow, because I told Mother that I’d be right
back, and she will be through her shopping by this time.”
So it was arranged, and Hope was glad to go with Caroline. Shirley did
not have very long to wait, not as long as she had expected. Hurrying
from the store, she mistook direction and had a great hunt for the
car. At last she saw it, smooth and shining, and with a sigh of relief
she approached it, entering it without waiting for the chauffeur, whom
she saw standing at a little distance in conversation with some other
man. Shirley sank back against the cushions in relief. Her dress was a
pretty one and would be sent to her at the school. Her other packages
would be delivered at the Hollands’. What luxury this was. Could this
be Shirley, ready to say, “Home, James?”
The chauffeur, whom Shirley had scarcely noticed before, apologized for
not being there to open the door, which Shirley had found unlocked.
“I was only a short distance away,” said the man, “but I saw a man
that--,” but the chauffeur was busy with getting his car out into the
street successfully and Shirley lost the rest. She closed her eyes and
leaned back again. They had not taken time even for some ice-cream and
she was really hungry. Ho for the good dinner waiting at the Hollands’!
Shirley was almost ready to doze off, for traffic in Chicago disturbed
her no more, when the car stopped at a curb, to let a fine-looking man
of middle age enter. Shirley looked up with surprise. Perhaps this
was some guest,--but it was funny that Hope had not mentioned it.
The gentleman was dressed in unobtrusive but the finest of business
outfit,--clothes, tie, shoes, the heavy, handsome overcoat and the
well-fitting hat.
He, too, leaned back as if tired. “You may go home now,” he said to the
chauffeur.
Shirley sat up, startled. Who was this? She turned and started to say
something, but the gentleman looked at her and said, “What is the
matter, Sidney? Have you forgotten something? I see that you left your
fur coat to be fixed, but I hope that you will not take cold in that
one.”
Shirley ceased to be startled when she heard herself addressed as
Sidney. By some mistake she had gotten into the Thorne car and this was
Mr. Thorne! She smiled and said, “I see that I have made a mistake. I
am not Sidney, Mr. Thorne, I am Shirley Harcourt. Hasn’t Sidney told
you about me?”
“Do you mean to say that you are not Sidney? Why, Sidney, child, you
are just joking!” Mr. Thorne looked scarcely puzzled.
“Well, I don’t know how to convince you, but poor Sidney must be
somewhere wondering what became of her car. I thought that this one
was the Holland car that was to take me home. I should have known the
chauffeur, but the boys have driven us around most of the time. I am
visiting at the Holland home, and I go to the same school that your
daughter attends.”
Mr. Thorne was sitting forward now, looking seriously at Shirley. The
chauffeur was looking back occasionally, as much as he dared. “I seen
that she had different clothes on,” he said, and was answered only by a
sharp glance from Mr. Thorne. But the reproving look was quite wasted.
“I was quite deceived,” said Mr. Thorne. “My friend, Mr. Scott, told
me only this morning that a young girl who resembled my daughter was
visiting his daughter from the school.”
“Yes, sir. I visited Caroline part of the time. Caroline, Hope and I
have been together nearly all the time.”
Mr. Thorne then directed the chauffeur to go back to the place where
he had parked the car to wait for Sidney. Meantime, he exerted himself
to put Shirley at her ease. “I do not wonder that you mistook the car.
Holland has one almost like it, perhaps exactly like it, though I never
thought about it. Tell me a little about yourself Miss Shirley. Where
do you live?”
Under Mr. Thorne’s kindly look Shirley found herself telling as she
had told no one but the Holland family, about her home, her father and
mother, the university and her one year at the girls’ school.
“Has it been a happy one so far?” asked Mr. Thorne kindly. He looked
at her so thoughtfully and with so much interest that Shirley felt
comforted some way. Here was one who did not resent her looking like
Sidney.
“Not altogether,” Shirley frankly told him, “but it was all new, and
with my father and mother so far away I have been a little bit lonely
once in a while, but not very often, for there is always so much to
do.”
“Has the close resemblance between yourself and my daughter made any
complications?”
“A few, but nothing serious,” smiled Shirley. No one should criticise
Shirley from anything she might say here in Chicago.
When they arrived at the place from which Shirley had started, Sidney
and her mother could be seen, coming from the entrance of the store
where Shirley had shopped. “Oh, I hope that they have not waited!”
exclaimed Shirley.
“If they have it is not your fault.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
Mr. Thorne helped Shirley out and drew her with him to meet his wife
and Sidney. “I will take you to find the other car,” he said. “You must
be safely started to the right place this time.”
It was a curious meeting. Sidney’s face was flaming, and Mrs.
Thorne’s was full of amazement. “Mother,” said Mr. Thorne, “this
is Miss Harcourt, who attends school with Sidney. I ran across her
accidentally. Have you been waiting for the car?”
“No,” replied Mrs. Thorne, after saying a few words to Shirley and
extending her daintily gloved hand from her furs. “We have only now
finished. Sidney expected to go home alone, for I intended to join one
of the ladies for tea at the club.”
“That accounts for Carl’s expecting only Sidney in the car, then.”
Mr. Thorne was watching the two girls, who had pleasantly exchanged
greetings as school girls would. He gave his wife a long look, then
said that he must find the Holland car for Shirley. “I will be back in
a moment,” said he. “Come, Miss Harcourt; no telling where your car may
be parked by this time, but the chauffeur is doubtless on the lookout
for you.”
“I am sorry, Mother,” said Sidney, as the two entered their own car,
“that I did not tell you before about Shirley Harcourt. But I thought
that it might annoy you as it annoyed me to have some one else look so
much like me.”
“It was startling,” replied Mrs. Thorne. “It is strange, too, that
she happened to attend the same school. I am afraid that you have not
enjoyed your term. Would you prefer to go somewhere else?”
“Perhaps,” said Sidney, “but Father will want me to get my certificate
there, I think.”
To Mr. Thorne, when he joined them, Sidney again apologized prettily
for not having told them of Shirley. “I am wondering how you happened
to meet her, Father,” she said.
Mr. Thorne related the circumstances and seemed to be surprised at
Sidney’s rather critical attitude, when she said that Shirley “might
have known the difference in cars and chauffeurs.”
“It was merely a mistake, Sidney. You might almost as well say that
Carl ought not to have mistaken her for you. I found Miss Harcourt a
very charming young girl. She told me of her father when I inquired. He
is abroad on some archæalogical expedition this year. I fancy that he
is rather a big man in his line.”
Then Mr. Thorne changed the topic and Sidney was relieved to find that
her parents did not pursue the subject of the resemblance.
Mr. Thorne’s explanation of a delay satisfied the waiting chauffeur,
who drove home as rapidly as the traffic would permit after Shirley was
safely deposited in the car. It had not been so long after all, since
Shirley’s wait in the store had been shorter than she had expected.
Nevertheless, she found that Hope had been uneasy.
“I believe that you are ‘psychic,’ Hope,” joked Shirley, “but my
double, that ought to be where I am concerned, if she is so like me, is
not even interested.”
“You are mistaken, Shirley. Sidney is attracted to you, but fights it.”
“I wonder if you are right,” mused Shirley.
“Sidney can’t _share_ anything,--not even looks!”