“Our last expedition, girls. Shall we all make it?”
“Oh, don’t tell us this is the wind-up of our glorious honeymoon! I
feel exactly like a deserted bride. How can we leave it all for old
Wellington, Jane?”
“Judy, dear, you forget the old saw about the fish that have not yet
been caught. And I always thought you such a good sport.”
“Janie, I know all that junk about fish. But just look at dear old New
York! And see our applied science in exact housekeeping! I——”
“You were never exact, Judy. And I couldn’t call that clump of
wearables really scientific looking. In fact, I am worried about the
expressmen coming in and grabbing up your train togs. Then you would
have to go off in the flimsey you wore to the play last night. I fancy
it would rather be outre en route.”
“Now, Janie, don’t flash anything like that on me, at the moment, I
love French in a nice rich translation like Hugo, but the naked truth
in French rather frightens me. Make it English. You mean to say it
would be outrageous for me to wear a theatre gown while travelling.
There, I guessed it first shot. Give me one point.”
“Seriously, Judith, the expressmen will be here this morning. You must
realize they cannot carry things over their arms.”
“Yes, I know. I have always thought it would be lots nicer if they did.
It musses things up so to have to pack them. But since my innovation is
not yet current, I suppose I shall have to spoil everything by cramming
them in their awful little boxes. Jane, did you ever hear of a current
innovation?”
“Can’t recall that I have, dear. But I know what you mean. Helen, are
you going with us on our very last shopping tour?”
Helen was folding up the precious garments so lately acquired. The
fondness with which she smoothed them betrayed her delight in their
acquisition. Helen had vehemently protested she did not need so many
pretty things, but Jane would have her fitted out as well, and perhaps
a little better than most “freshies.” Helen looked up with the eyes
truly labeled violet, and like that wonderful flower, the depths of
their color was softened to velvet by the least glint of dew.
“If you would not mind, Jane dear,” she risked. “I feel I should like
to have everything packed. And what more can we possibly buy?”
“All right, girlie. You may stay home and sigh, and kiss things up. I
know you just hate to give up housekeeping, and I don’t blame you in
the least. We have had a lovely time,” and Jane stopped to wind her arm
around the curly head bent over the boxes on the floor. “You stay home
if you wish, Helen, but don’t scold me if I bring you one more—little
handkerchief, or something like that?”
“Jane, I have wanted to tell you. I feel so over—over——”
“Helen, you mean overwhelmed, don’t you?” suggested Judith.
“Yes, Judith, that is the big word I want. I feel—that way about
everything. I had many pretty things once, but since I came to America
I have been glad to be here, and not think of all I once loved.”
Jane and Judith paused in their rushing about and listened attentively.
Jane had been rather dreading this little speech from Helen.
“Yes, I have been so happy since I met you, and it seems we have been
friends for always,” went on the Polish girl. “But I want you to know I
do not expect to be ever like this—a—guest. Some day I shall be able to
repay.”
“Now don’t spoil everything by getting sad and gloomy,” Jane
admonished. “You know we just need you as much as you need us. Can’t
you see that?”
“I am very glad,” and she brushed away something that blurred her big
eyes. “I would like to do a great favor if ever I am the artist. I then
will give—and give, and perhaps it will be a little, but never as much
as this.”
“You are engaged to play my wedding march, Helen,” Jane declared, “and
I shall expect you to do that for the sake of these old times.” Jane
was trying to make light of the threatening tragedy. “And besides that,
you will surely have to play for Judith when she has her cowboy
reunion. I believe she intends to engage the Hippodrome for that
event.”
“No place smaller, nor less substantial would answer my purpose,”
Judith agreed, annexing Jane’s humor. “I am going to show this New York
some day, what the boys of El Capitan can do in the way of
entertaining. Just you wait, Helen, until next vacation. We will take
you out to Montana, and show you all the wonders I have enjoyed. I have
forever blotted from my childish memory the thought of any other
battleground, as a vacation scene. What I enjoyed on Jane’s ranch is
indelible.”
“Come along, you chatter-box,” urged Jane. “We must be back at least
for the train. Good bye, Helen dear. Keep your door locked.”
In spite of their years, with decorum annexed, the two girls were
always strongly tempted to slide down those adorable banisters in Miss
Jordan’s big old-fashioned hall, and now, as they were going out for
almost the last time, both girls eyed each other suspiciously.
“We don’t dare, but it’s a shame,” spoke Jane. “That comes of getting
old.”
“Like a bald spot, it’s the emptiness that hurts. Don’t you feel a
vagueness for a slide?” asked Judith, smoothing the glossy rail
lovingly.
“Yes, but Judith, did you notice someone in the lower hall just as we
left our room?” whispered Jane. “See that figure—gliding around the
pedestal?”
“The plumber, likely,” replied Judith. “I have seen that old coat
before. Let’s hurry, Janie, or, as you said, I shall have to give the
expressmen my things ‘As Is,’ which means any old way, in store
parlance. Where do we go from here?”
At the door Jane glanced back a little ruefully. She had seen some
one—a man, surely, standing there, just as they came out of the big
room at the top of the stairs, and possibly when he noticed they could
observe him he disappeared in the direction of the heavy folding doors
and the big bronze statue, that marked the entrance to the dining room.
“I wish Helen had come along,” Jane remarked when on the sidewalk,
“somehow I will be rather glad when we all get safely to Wellington.”
“I have felt the same way these last few days,” admitted Judith. “Jane,
I think you are a wonder not to come right out, and ask Helen what all
the mystery is about. Don’t you feel a bit squeamish having her turn
pale at old men’s faces, and seeing her dodge every foreign-looking
man, woman and child who comes along? Surely she is not too proud to be
Polish.”
“Oh, no, indeed. I know it is nothing like class pride. She loves to
watch the little children who congregate around hand organs and
hurdy-gurdies, her eyes dance with them. No, Judith, Helen has a
secret, and I am sure it is one that keeps her anxious, but why should
I pry into it, just because she happened to win a scholarship? That
would be poor sport, wouldn’t it? To exact a price—the price of
personal confidence from the winner? She won honestly and we are glad
she did, so why speculate?”
“The Greeks still live,” spoke Judith. “Jane, I believe if old friend
Methuselah happened back for something he had forgotten, you would hand
it out to him without asking the secret of his eight hundred years of
life. Too personal for you. All righty. I shall agree, and I love the
little curly-headed Helen. Also, I claim first round from the
opposition when we start basketball and fight for Center. This is the
sort of day that brings our game up even above the joy of seeing Marian
Seaton die of envy. Did I tell you I had a letter from Visite? She is
the French girl who came at the end of last season, you know,
Adrienne’s friend.”
“Oh, yes, I recall, her name is Visitation and they call her Visite.
She always wore such absurd high heels, didn’t she?”
“That’s Visite. But we will forgive her the heels for she speaks and
writes perfect English. Some of the big girls, as she calls them, are
having their cars sent out. I guess they did not like being
overshadowed by your wonderful horse, Firefly. Not that a mere machine
could compare with that glorious little animal.”
“Oh, they may have their cars. I don’t fancy motoring—yet. I may take
to it when I get old and feeble. Here we are. I want to get a Tell-Tale
for Katherine. Don’t you think they are the dearest little books? And
they always do tell tales, if we keep them written up. Let us look at
these.”
They inspected the dainty new dairies on the beautifully polished glass
counter in Brientos. The new style diary had much to recommend it. The
suggestions given in “Heads” left little to be worked out, by even such
registrants as might be indolent. There were classified duties,
pleasures, accidents, questions, engagements, expenses, apologies,
dance steps, candy recipes, and such other incidents as might be
particularly interesting to young girls. The lines were partly written,
so that all the writer should fill out was the end of the line, like an
insurance blank.
“Now, that is the way all our themes ought to be started for us,”
specified Jane. “If we had a starter line we could dash off a thesis
with our eyes shut. I will take two of these. I am going to give one to
Elaine. You know how she loves to write.”
“Yes, I remember too well. She wrote a beautiful poem all over my
closet door, and I had to stand for it,” recalled Judith. “Better buy
her a couple of reams of paper besides that sample. She needs space.”
From the stationer’s the girls paid a last visit to their favorite
confectioner. The amount of candy purchased seemed extravagant. Even
the white-capped and ribbon-aproned clerk looked surprised when Judith
called for the third box of cherries, but when the girls said good-bye,
and Jane unpinned her own violets for this pretty little candy counter
miss, the very delivery boy who swung out with the big white package,
whistled good naturedly.
“Is that all?” asked Judith, glancing at her wrist watch anxiously.
“Almost. I want to get dad another box of cigars and Aunt Mary a bottle
of sachet. I ordered her favorite scent and it will be ready now. They
can be mailed direct from the stores.”
Steps quickened, and cheeks glowing accordingly, Jane and Judith sped
along. New York had been attractive, and the days just gone were filled
with happy memories.
Finally, with lists all checked off, Miss Jordan’s apartment was
reached within ten minutes of the actual time set for return.
“I am sure Helen has everything ready,” commented Jane, getting out her
latch key.
“Trust her for that,” Judith replied. “I hope she has been the good
Samaritan to poor little me. Otherwise I see those armfuls and the
staggering expressmen.”
At the inside door, that opened into the girls’ own apartment, Jane
fumbled with her key. It would not open the door.
“Locked with the key in,” Judith thought. “Call Helen!”
“Helen! Open the door!” called Jane. “Helen—are you there?”
No answer.
“She could not have gone out and left the key on the inside,” Jane
said, anxiously now. “I wonder what can be the matter.”
“Let me shake the door,” suggested Judith. “Queer——”
“Oh, is that you, girls?” called Miss Jordan from the lower hall. “I
have been trying to find someone to let me in there. The expressmen
have been here, and I could not reach your trunks.”
“But we left Helen in,” Jane was trembling now. “She must be inside.
Listen! Helen!”
A shuffling behind the panel could now be heard, then the key turned in
the door, and Helen confronted them, pale and disheveled.
“Oh, child, whatever is the matter!” exclaimed Miss Jordan, brushing
past the two girls and getting her motherly arms around the tottering
Helen. “What ever has happened to you?”
“Oh, I—got—weak—I guess I fainted. I am all right now. I am so sorry——”
“Sorry!” exclaimed Jane. “Why, Helen dear, to think you were all alone.
And had the door locked so Miss Jordan could not reach you! Sit down
and let us get you some ammonia. Judith, it is on my stand. Please
fetch it quickly.”
No need to tell Judith to hurry, for the color of the little Polish
girl’s face was warning enough.
“Were you frightened of anything?” asked Miss Jordan, rubbing the
trembling hands.
“But no one came in, did they, Helen?” asked Jane in real alarm.
“Oh, no, I—locked the door when I felt so queer. I thought perhaps it
was the expressmen, but I could not attend——”
“You were very wise, my dear,” and Miss Jordan shook her head
thoughtfully. “It was better to be alone, although the experience was
unpleasant. Those men might have picked up anything from this
collection and then——”
“I am so sorry we left you alone,” Judith murmured, with real penitence
in her voice. “And to think we were gadding about, while you were ill
and needed us so urgently. There, swallow that ammonia. It will soon
revive you. I should hate to faint.”
“Oh, I am again all right,” and the pale face lightened up just a
shade. “I am so much of a baby to get sick like that——”
“We will not leave New York until to-morrow if you do not feel
perfectly all right,” announced Jane with authority.
“Oh, but please, yes,” begged Helen. “I am so glad to get to the big
school. I like New York, but it is not like the college with all big
grounds——”
“That is just what I say, Miss Allen,” put in Miss Jordan as she
smoothed the cushions they were piling around Helen. “You young ladies
have been having a great time, running around and feeding on electives,
as we say at college when we choose our own studies. Are you sure you
feel all right to travel, Helen?”
“Oh, yes, indeed. It was nothing. I was so happy—with all the new
things that I forgot to eat my breakfast. I shall be all ready when the
other girls are. And I am so grieved to give trouble.” Helen was now
quite herself again. The ammonia had done the work of restoring the
temporarily impeded circulation. But Jane and Judith were not satisfied
that all the story of her sudden illness had been told. It was
decidedly strange that a girl should faint, right in her own room, and
in the middle of the day. Still, both were too wise to press questions
just then. The very best plan to be put in operation, they were
deciding silently, was for all hands to be off to Wellington that very
afternoon.
There was some bustling about, but Miss Jordan helped, and in spite of
the confusion the baggage was finally shipped successfully and on time.
“Little old New York!” exclaimed Jane merrily, pressing her personal
good bye on Miss Jordan. “You have been very good to the Wellington
Refugees. And we thank you.”