MAKING OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY
Following on the heels of Judith's advent into the team came an
unheralded and wonderful surprise for Dorothy Martin.
One crisp Saturday afternoon in early November, Jane Allen ran up the
steps of Madison Hall, her face radiant. Attired in riding clothes, she
had just come from the stable, where she had left Firefly after a long
canter across country.
Into the house and up the stairs she dashed at top speed, bound for
Dorothy Martin's room.
"Come," called a cheerful voice, in answer to her energetic rapping.
"Oh, Dorothy!" Jane fairly bounced into the room. "Get on your hat and
coat and come along. I've something to show you."
"What is it? Where is it?" gaily queried Dorothy. "To mend or not to
mend, that is also the question. Shall I go on mending my pet blouse
that's falling to pieces altogether too fast to suit me, or drop it and
go gallivanting off with you?"
"There's no question about it. You must come. If you don't, you'll be
sorry all the rest of the year," predicted Jane. "Now sit and mend your
old pet blouse if you dare!"
"I dare--not," Dorothy laughed. Rising she laid aside the silk blouse
she was darning and went to the wardrobe for her wraps. "I'm a very poor
senior these days," she added. "I can't buy a new blouse every day in
the week. I have to make my old ones last a long time."
"You always look sweet, Dorothy," praised Jane, "so you don't need to
care whether your blouses are old or new. They're never anything but
dainty and trim."
"Thank you for those glorious words of praise," was Dorothy's light
retort.
"You're welcome, but do hurry," urged Jane.
"Where do we go from here?" quizzed Dorothy as they started down the
drive.
"I sha'n't tell you. Wait and see, Miss Impatience. This is a very
mysterious journey."
In this bantering strain the two continued on to the western gate of the
campus, passed through and started down the highway.
"I know where we're going!" finally exclaimed Dorothy. "We're going to
the stable to see Firefly! Funny I didn't guess it before, with you in
riding clothes. You're going to show me some new trick you've taught
Firefly. There! Did I guess right?"
"Yes, and no. That's all I'll tell you. Come on. One minute more and
you'll see the great sight."
Jane caught Dorothy's hand and rushed her toward the stable. Still
keeping firm hold on her friend, she led her straight to the roomy
box-stall which accommodated Firefly.
"Oh, Jane!" Dorothy cried out in sudden rapture. "What a beautiful
horse. Why, he looks almost enough like Firefly to be his brother. Where
did you get him? What in the world are you going to do with two horses?"
"He's not mine," Jane replied. "He is----" She stopped, her gray eyes
dancing. "He belongs to a dear friend of mine. Her name is Dorothy
Martin."
Dorothy stared, as though wondering if Jane had suddenly taken leave of
her senses.
"Wake up, Dorothy!" Jane laid an affectionate hand on Dorothy's
shoulder. "He's yours. Dad sent him to you. He's come all the way from
Capitan to see you. Aren't you going to say 'How de do' to him?"
"Jane--I----"
Dorothy turned and hid her head against Jane's shoulder.
"This is a nice way to welcome poor Midnight," laughed Jane, as her arm
went round Dorothy. Her own voice was not quite steady.
"I--I--it's too much," quavered Dorothy, raising her head. "I can't
believe that beauty is for me. It's too wonderful to be true. I must be
dreaming."
"But it _is_ true. If you don't believe me, read this."
Jane drew a square, white envelope from the pocket of her riding coat
and offered it to Dorothy.
"It's for you, from Dad," she explained. "I've been keeping it until
Midnight came. This is the outcome of a plot. A real plot between Dad
and me."
Dorothy took the letter, her eyes still misty.
"We'll read it together, Jane," she said.
Arms entwined about each other's waists, the two girls read Henry
Allen's letter to his daughter's friend.
"DEAR MISS DOROTHY," it began. "Jane has written me that Firefly
complains a great deal about being lonely. He misses Midnight, an
old chum of his. So I decided that Midnight might come East,
provided he had someone to look after his welfare. Jane has told me
so much about you, and that you resemble one who, though gone from
us, grows ever dearer with years.
"Because of this, and because of your many kindnesses to my girl, I
hope you will accept Midnight for your own special pet. He is very
gentle and, in my opinion, quite as fine a little horse as Firefly.
You cannot, of course, expect Jane to say that. I send him to you
with my very best wishes and trust that you and Jane will have many
long rides together.
"My sister and I look forward to meeting you next summer. Jane
tells me that she will surely bring you home with her when college
closes next June. We shall be delighted to welcome you to El
Capitan. My sister joins me in sending you our kindest regards.
"Yours sincerely,
"HENRY ALLEN."
"It's just like good old Dad!" Jane cried out enthusiastically. "You'll
love Midnight, Dorothy. Come and get acquainted with him. I've a whole
pocketful of sugar for him and Firefly."
In a daze of happiness Dorothy followed Jane into the roomy stall and
was soon making friendly overtures to Midnight, who responded most
amiably.
There was still one more feature of the program, however, which Jane
hardly knew how to bring forward.
"Dorothy," she began rather hesitatingly. "I hardly know how to say it,
but--well--this stall is large enough for both Midnight and Firefly.
They were chums at home and will get along beautifully together. Won't
you let me look after them both? You know what I mean?"
"I'm glad you came out frankly with that, Jane." Dorothy's color had
heightened. "No, I couldn't let you do that. I shouldn't feel right
about it. I've been thinking hard ever since I read your father's
letter. I believe it's right for me to accept Midnight, because you both
want me to have him and have gone to so much trouble to bring him here.
I've thought of a way out of the difficulty. Only yesterday a freshman
came to me and asked me to tutor her in trigonometry. She's been
conditioned already and needs help. I told her I'd let her know. I
wasn't sure whether I wanted to do it. I've never tutored and I could
get along without the extra money. But now, it will come in just
beautifully. I can earn enough to pay for Midnight's keep. You
understand how I feel about it."
"Yes. I know I'd feel the same," nodded Jane. "That's why I hated to say
anything. I want you to do whatever you think best. Anyway, Firefly and
Midnight can be in the same stall and that will help some. You must let
me do that much."
"It will help a great deal. I'm not sure that I ought to let you do even
that," demurred Dorothy.
"Of course you ought," Jane said sturdily. "You must mind Dad, you know.
He depends on you to look after Midnight's welfare. This is the largest,
nicest stall in the stable. Now you must see your saddle. It's Mexican
and almost like mine. I put it in the locker with mine. They're too
valuable to be left lying about loose."
Lingering for some little time while Dorothy made further acquaintance
with her new possession, the two girls strolled back to the Hall
through the November dusk.
Dorothy was exuberantly joyful over the wonderful thing that had
happened to her, and correspondingly grateful to those responsible for
it. Jane was also brimming with quiet happiness. She wished every other
day of her sophomore year could be as delightful as this one. What
splendid rides she and Dorothy would have together!
Jane left Dorothy at the door of the latter's room and went on to her
own in a beatific state of mind. It was certainly far more blessed to
give than to receive.
"Well, how did the gift party come off?" was Judith's question, as Jane
closed the door behind her. Judith was the only one who had been let
into the secret.
"Oh, splendidly!" Jane exclaimed. "She fell in love with Midnight the
minute she saw him. I wish you rode, Judy. I'd have Dad send you a
horse, too."
"Of course you would, generous old thing," was the affectionate reply.
"But I'm not to be trusted with a noble steed. Neither would I trust
said steed. I can admire Firefly, but at a safe distance. I'd rather
stick to the lowly taxi or my two feet to carry me over the ground. By
the way, did you look at the bulletin board on your way upstairs?"
"No; I didn't stop. I saw a couple of the girls reading a notice. What's
happened?"
"Our dear Marian has met with a loss." Judith's grin belied her mournful
accents. "Not her position on the team. Oh, my, no! She's not
advertising _that_. She's lost a valuable diamond ring, and has offered
twenty-five dollars reward to the finder. The very idea! Just as if a
Wellington girl would accept a reward if she happened to find the ring.
I call that an insult."
"It's bad taste, to say the least." Jane looked slightly scornful. "Does
the notice state where she believes she lost the ring?"
"Yes; it says, 'Somewhere between Madison Hall and the library, or in
Madison Hall.' Between you and me, I wonder if she really did lose a
ring? It would be just like her to start this new excitement about
herself on purpose to get sympathy. She must be awfully peeved yet over
basket-ball. I feel almost like a villain at practice. Still, it
certainly wasn't my fault."
"I'm thankful there's no one here at the Hall she could lay suspicion
upon," frowned Jane. "Norma's beyond reach of injustice now. I'd rather
hope it was a real loss than a camouflage."
"Well, she might say that I had stolen it. Wouldn't that be a glorious
revenge?" Judith jokingly inquired.
"Don't be so ridiculous, Judy Stearns." Jane's frown changed to a smile
at this far-fetched supposition on Judith's part.
"Oh, she'll probably find it again one of these days, after everyone's
forgotten about it and gone on to some other great piece of news,"
Judith unfeelingly asserted. "You see how sympathetic I am."
"I see. I also see the clock. It's time I changed these riding togs for
a dress. I'll barely have time before the dinner gong sounds."
Jane rose from the chair she had briefly occupied while listening to
Judith, and began hurriedly to remove her riding habit.
Quickly rearranging her thick, curling hair, she dived into the closet
that held her own and Judith's dresses. Selecting a fur-trimmed frock of
dark green broadcloth, she hastily got into it.
As she hooked it a little smile played about her lips. The news of
Marian's loss already forgotten, Jane was again thinking of the pleasant
little scene enacted in the boarding stable, where Firefly and Midnight
now stood side by side.
"You must go down to the stable with us to-morrow and look Midnight
over, Judy," she suddenly remarked, then went on with an enthusiastic
description of Dorothy's new treasure.
* * * * *
While she thus dwelt at length upon Midnight's good points, in a room
not far distant two girls were conducting a most confidential session.
"How long do you think we ought to wait before--well, you know?" Marian
Seaton was asking.
"Oh, about three weeks, I should say," lazily returned Maizie Gilbert.
"We'll have to go slowly. It will take three or four months to do the
thing properly. If we rushed it, it wouldn't be half as effective as to
take our time. What about Elsie?"
"We'll tell her about the dress business, but no more than that. She
mustn't know a word about the rest. She has a frightful temper, you
know. If she happened to get good and mad at me, she'd tell everything
she knew to the very first person she ran across. She'll be properly
shocked when she hears about the dress. We'll tell it to her as a great
secret," planned Marian. "I won't say anything outright about the ring.
I'll leave it to her to draw her own conclusions. She's rabid about Judy
Stearns. It seems she has heard that Judy nicknamed her the 'ignoble
Noble.'"
"That's a funny one!"
Maizie appeared to derive signal enjoyment from this revelation.
"I fail to see anything funny about it." Marian stiffened perceptibly.
"Please remember, Maiz, that Elsie is _my_ cousin."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten it. That's a funny nickname, just the same."
Maizie calmly declined to be thus easily suppressed.
"It suits me to know that Elsie heard about it," Marian said, after an
instant's vexed silence.
She knew better than to continue to oppose Maizie. For one of her
sluggish temperament, Maizie could turn decidedly disagreeable when she
chose.
"Yes, it comes in very nicely just now," drawled Maizie. "Elsie needs a
spur to keep her going. Keep her in a rage and she's a fine little
mischief-maker. Let her calm down and she's likely to crumple. She
really has some idea of principle, only she doesn't know it. I wonder if
she'll ever find it out."
"Do you mean to insinuate that _I_ haven't?" demanded Marian crossly.
"No; I say it plainly. Neither you nor I have any principle," declared
Maizie with her slow smile. "We might as well be honest about it. We
never are about anything else, you know. It doesn't worry me. It's
rather interesting, I think. Keeping things stirred up relieves the dull
monotony. There's always the chance that we may win. We have never won
yet, you know. We're still here, though, and that's a consolation. This
latest idea of yours ought to amount to something in the long run."
"Really, Maiz, you are the most cold-blooded girl I ever met!" Marian
cried out in exasperation. "Sometimes I feel as if I didn't understand
you at all."
"I don't pretend to understand myself," returned Maizie tranquilly. "It
would be too much trouble to try. Besides, self-analysis might be fatal
to my comfort. I might dig up a conscience, and that would be a bore.
I'd rather take it easy and smile and be a villain still. Changes are so
disagreeable. You'd find that out, if one came over me. You'd be minus a
valuable ally."
"Do you mean that as a threat?"
Marian laughed. There was, however, a note of anxiety in her question.
She had no desire to lose so valuable an ally as Maizie.
"A threat? No. Don't be scared. I'm still wandering along under the
Seaton banner. I suppose I'm rather fond of you, Marian. Don't know why,
I'm sure. You're thoroughly selfish, and we quarrel continually. That's
the real reason for it, I suspect. You keep things going. That's your
chief charm. Then, too, you've been fair enough with me. Whatever you
may do to others isn't my concern. I don't intend that it shall be. If I
were to start in the other direction I couldn't stop halfway. I'd keep
on going. Then where would you be? As I said before, 'Changes are
disagreeable.' So I'm going to stay on your side and, take my word for
it, it's a mighty good thing for you."