THE INVITATION
Neither Grace nor Kathleen went to their classes that morning. Feeling
reasonably certain that the newspaper girl was in the wrong, Patience
made no further effort toward discovering the nature of the quarrel. She
unpacked her bag, putting away its contents in her usual methodical
manner without so much as a glance in Kathleen's direction. Then, taking
her note book, she went quietly out to her class in English, leaving her
roommate still standing at the window, her very back expressing defiant
animosity.
Once in her room, Grace reread Mabel Ashe's note. She now understood its
import.
"MY DEAR GRACE:--
"Words cannot tell you how sorry I am for what has occurred. I did
not know until it was too late. The edition had gone to press. I am
afraid I couldn't have helped much, for the powers that be were
delighted with the story, and that little traitor, Kathleen West,
scored a triumph. Knowing you as I do, I am sure you never gave her
permission to publish that story.
"Of course, you were simply a great heroine in it, but having heard
the Oakdale part of the tale from you, and knowing of your promise
to your father, it is plain to be seen that she took advantage of
you in some way. If you haven't already delivered my invitation to
her, then don't do so. I feel deeply resentful toward her. You can
tell me the whole thing when you are with me. I shall expect you
and the girls on Wednesday evening on the train that leaves Overton
between two and three o'clock in the afternoon. You know the one I
mean. I'll look it up in the time table before Wednesday.
"If you happen to know one extra-delightful girl who has no
Thanksgiving plans ask her to come, too. Frances can't arrange to
be with us, so we need one more girl to do away with the problem of
the 'lonely fifth.' Three pairs are much nicer than two and a half.
The half always seems out of things. Of course, I am proceeding in
the belief that K. W. won't come now, even if you have invited her.
If she has a shred of delicacy in her cheeky little composition,
she will stay away.
"I must stop now and rush off on the trail of a much-feted
debutante of whose engagement I have heard canny rumors. Until
Wednesday.
"MABEL."
"What a darling Mabel is," said Grace half aloud. "I wonder who I had
better invite." Arline's pretty, wilful face rose before her. She would
have liked to ask Arline, but that was out of the question. There was
Ruth, but Ruth and Arline were too closely associated to be separated.
Suddenly she remembered Patience. "The very girl!" she exclaimed. "I'll
go and ask her now. Oh, no, I can't. I said I wouldn't go into her room
again. Never mind, I will see her at luncheon."
Grace made it a point to be the first girl in the dining room at
luncheon, and when Patience appeared beckoned her to the seat beside
her. "Sit here," she invited. "Emma won't be in. She is going to Morton
House for luncheon; she told me so."
Patience slipped into the vacant seat. "I would like to have a talk with
you after luncheon," she said in a guarded voice.
"Then come into my room," returned Grace softly.
During the progress of the meal Kathleen West appeared, silent and
morose. She nodded slightly to several girls, favored Grace and Patience
with an unspeakably insolent glance, then turned her undivided attention
to her luncheon.
"Why won't you tell me what happened?" was Patience's abrupt question
when Grace had beckoned her into her room and closed the door. "She is
my roommate, you see, and unless you enlighten me as to the nature of
her crime I shall not know just how to proceed with her."
"I don't like to tell tales," demurred Grace. "Still, I believe I am
justified in repeating the story to you, Patience. You have no illusions
regarding Kathleen."
"None whatever," smiled Patience, but a disapproving frown wrinkled her
forehead at the recital of Kathleen's treachery. "It was abominable in
her," she said when Grace had finished. "And I had begun to assure
myself that she was improving daily, too."
"She came out of her shell so beautifully the night we went to the
station house," sighed Grace. "I never dreamed she was planning
mischief. However, I have something to ask you. Here, read this letter;
then I'll talk." She tendered Mabel's letter to her friend.
Patience held out her hand for it, then glanced rapidly through it.
"This is from the much-worshipped Miss Ashe, isn't it?"
"Yes. We four are going to spend Thanksgiving with her, and, Patience, I
should like to have you go with us. Won't you please be the
'extra-delightful girl' and say you'll go?"
"Why--why!" Patience, usually cool and unemotional, colored with
pleasure. "Are you sure you really want me? I should be delighted to go.
It is very sweet in you to ask me, Grace."
"Not in the least. It's very jolly in you to accept so promptly. There
is now only one hitch in the programme. I have already delivered Mabel's
invitation to Kathleen."
"She won't go," predicted Patience. "She may be lawless, but she is too
wise to make any such mistake."
* * * * *
Patience's prediction, however, seemed destined not to carry far. To the
amazement of the five young women who waited on the station platform for
the coming of the New York train on Wednesday afternoon, the newspaper
girl, suit case in hand, walked serenely into view just as the train was
heard whistling around a bend half a mile below the station.
"She is actually going to inflict herself upon us," muttered Elfreda in
disgust. Grace had briefly explained the situation to her three friends.
Just then Kathleen's eyes came to rest on the little group. A flash of
surprised anger flitted across her moody face as she espied Patience,
then, with an eloquent shrug of her shoulders, she marched off toward
the other end of the train.
"My doom is sealed," remarked Patience dryly. "Nothing can put our
shattered acquaintance together again."
"I knew she wouldn't go with us even for spite," declared Grace wearily.
"Now, suppose we dismiss her from our minds. I, for one, wish to enjoy
our Thanksgiving vacation with Mabel. I may as well tell you that I am
still very angry with Miss West, and for the first time in my life I
know what it means to be unforgiving."
Grace spoke with bitterness. In her letter to her father she had asked
him to telegraph her that he forgave her. She had lingered at Wayne Hall
until the last moment, but had received no word from him. Now she would
not know until she returned from New York. To be sure, she would try to
dismiss the whole thing from her mind, but at times it rose before her
like a dark shadow, shutting out for the moment the pleasure of her
holiday, and causing her to feel gloomy and depressed.
During the journey to New York nothing was seen of Kathleen, who had
taken good care not to enter the same car in which the five girls had
secured seats. Grace saw her again for an instant when, at the end of
the journey, the throng of passengers surged toward the iron gates that
separated them from the friends who stood anxiously awaiting their
arrival.
Elfreda's keen eyes were the first to catch sight of Mabel. "There she
is, girls! Doesn't she look beautiful?"
Mabel Ashe's charming face smiled an eager welcome as she hurried
forward with both hands outstretched to greet the travelers.
"You dear things!" she cried; "I began to believe I should never see any
of you again. Hurry right along. Our car is waiting and we are going to
break all the speed laws and be home in time for dinner."
"Wait a moment," laughed Grace. "This is the 'extra-delightful girl.'"
Grace introduced Patience to Mabel. A long, searching glance passed
between the two young women, then their hands met in a strong clasp that
betokened mutual liking.
"I am sure we shall be friends," declared Mabel.
"No surer than I am," smiled Patience. "I have heard so much about you."
"Grace wrote me about you, too," returned Mabel warmly. "I am so pleased
that you could come. This way to the car, everyone." She led them
through the station to where numerous automobiles were drawn up to the
sidewalk. "There is our car." She pointed to a roomy dark blue car. "Hop
in," she directed. "The sooner we reach home the longer we'll have to
talk. I am not going to the office again until the afternoon following
Thanksgiving. I begged so hard I was allowed a vacation for once."
In what seemed to Grace an incredibly brief space of time, the distance
between the station and the Ashes' winter home far out on Riverside
Drive was covered. The five guests could not help feeling a trifle
impressed at sight of the great stone house which Mabel called home.
During her college days it was Mabel's lovable personality that had
enshrined her so deeply in the hearts of the students at Overton. The
knowledge that her father was a millionaire carried little weight. This
thought occurred to Grace as they filed through the massive door of the
vestibule and into the beautiful hall furnished in English fashion. A
back log glowed ruddily in the big open fireplace, and the flickering
flames crackled a welcome.
"I wouldn't allow James to turn on the lights. I wished you to see the
hall just as it is. I love it when the shadows begin to gather, and only
the firelight glows and gleams! Those andirons are very old. They
belonged to one of my ancestors. There are a lot of old things in the
garret. What garret is not full of antiques?"
"Ours," returned Elfreda promptly. "We belong to that despised class,
'nouveau riche,' therefore we are extremely short on noted ancestors and
relics and things."
"There is nothing like perfect frankness, is there?" laughed Patience.
"Never mind, Elfreda, it isn't ancestors that count."
"It is dinner that counts, or ought to count, just now. I am going to
whisk you upstairs to your rooms, and give you ten minutes for repairs,
then, 'down to dinner you must go, you must go,'" chanted Mabel, winding
her arm about Grace's waist and drawing her toward the stairway. "Follow
us and you won't be sorry. We have a lift if two flights of stairs
dismay you."
"Lead on," commanded Miriam.
"Which will you choose, to room together or alone?"
"Together!" was the united response.
"Wait a moment," said Anne. "I wish to ask you, Mabel, if you would
object to rooming with Grace. I have roomed with her so long that I feel
as though I"--with a mischievous glance at Grace's amazed face, Anne
finished in a deliberate tone--"were very selfish. So I thought perhaps
you would appreciate an opportunity to have her to yourself, too."
"Oh!" ejaculated Elfreda. "I thought you were going to say you were
tired of Grace."
"So did I." A smile gave place to the peculiar expression on Grace's
face. "I might have known better, though."
"That is generous in you, Anne," declared Mabel "As hostess I wouldn't
have been so selfish as to propose it, but----"
"Anne, if you really don't care, I would like to room with Mabel,"
interposed Grace. "I have so much to tell her that the rest of you have
already heard. We can have lengthy midnight confabs without disturbing
any one but ourselves."
"Then, that settles it. Room together you shall," averred Anne. "There
is no use in breaking up the Nesbit-Briggs Association. Patience, will
you accept me for a roommate?"
Patience bowed exaggeratedly and offered her arm to Anne.
"Come on, Grace, we'll lead the way," proposed Mabel. "I am so anxious
for you to meet Father. I expect him home at any moment." Tucking her
arm in Grace's, she led the party up the stairs and, pausing before a
half-open door, said hospitably: "Welcome all over again, children. This
room is for Elfreda and Miriam. Enter and make yourselves comfy. You and
Anne are to have the next one, Patience. My quarters are at the end of
the hall. I am going to see Grace safely there, then I'll send my maid
to you. She will be delighted to be of service to some one. I have
needed her very little since I turned newspaper woman, and she spends
the greater part of her time lamenting over the fact. Oh, I forgot to
tell you, don't trouble to dress for dinner to-night. We shall be
strictly informal. I have ordered an early dinner. We will dress
afterward. Father is going to take us to the theatre."
The mere mention of Mabel's father brought to Grace's mind that which
she had been making a determined effort to forget, her father's
displeasure. Her face clouded with pain and resentment as she thought of
the girl whose treachery had brought about the first misunderstanding of
her life between her and her father.
"If Father had only written me a line or sent me a telegram," she
thought sadly, winking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I must
not let Mabel imagine for a minute that I am anything but happy for
to-night, at least. If she knew how dreadfully I felt about Father it
would partly spoil her pleasure this evening. I'll try to act as though
nothing unpleasant had happened," decided Grace as she followed Mabel
into what she had termed her "quarters."
Grace could not refrain from giving a soft exclamation of delight as she
gazed admiringly about the beautiful room into which she was ushered.
"This is my own particular hanging-out place," laughed Mabel "When I am
at home, which is seldom, I spend most of my time in here. See my desk!
I'll tell you a secret, Grace. I am writing a novel. It's more than half
done, too. I haven't told any one else, not even Father. My greatest
trouble is not having the time to work on it. My newspaper work keeps me
busy, early and late, but I can't complain, because I am gaining all
sorts of valuable experience." Mabel talked on about her work, and as
Grace watched the sparkling, animated face of her lovely friend she felt
very sure that Mabel Ashe, at least, would never sacrifice a friend in
the interest of her paper.