She was putting the room in order, and he stepped to her side as she
stood by the table. "Christine, are matters all right at last between
you and Elizabeth?"
"Yes, John, I think that they are."
"It is all my fault that they have ever been any other way. I was
selfish, at first, in my fear lest you would ask me to postpone our
wedding day; then, afterward, when I saw what a grave mistake I had
made, I was too cowardly to take the blame myself and explain matters
to the child as I should have done. There was a sort of tacit deceit on
my part, Christine, for which I have paid very bitterly. You have made
our home beautiful, but, because of my folly, there has been that one
jarring note in it."
"It is all right now."
"But no thanks to me. However, I am going to have a talk with Beth yet
tonight. I shall not excuse myself; what is the worst thing in my own
eyes, Christine, has been my cowardice in not facing the subject fairly
long ago and telling Elizabeth that you were not in the least open to
censure. The fault was all mine, but I have left you to bear the blame."
This was so absolutely true that Mrs. Newby made no reply, but she looked
at her husband with a very forgiving smile as she laid her hand on his.
"You are an angel, Christine. Some women would never forgive me."
She laughed a little tremulously. "I know better, my dear, than to
expect perfection from a poor, frail man. I am not an angel myself,
as you know very well."
"I don't know it at all," he retorted, bending to kiss her. "I hear
Elizabeth in the drawing-room. I shall see her before she goes upstairs.
Christine, you are perfectly happy now?"
"No," she replied promptly, and evidently to his surprise.
"Then tell me the trouble at once."
"I am worried about Roy. He is too young to be sent away to school. I
presume it answers very well with some children, but he needs me."
"But the public schools are so far away from us, dear, and I thought
that he was hardly strong enough to stand the strain of the two sessions
there. I did not know that you objected to his going. You said nothing,
you know, to that effect."
"You seemed so very sure that it was the right thing to do, and I did
not know but it might turn out better than I feared. But he dreads the
going back unspeakably. I found him crying about it last night, and I
cannot consent to his return."
"Then he certainly shall not go," Mr. Newby returned promptly. "But
what do you propose to do with him?"
"He can have some private lessons here at home. I shall see that he has
enough to do, but not too much. Boys of that age need a mother, John."
"I presume so," Mr. Newby returned ruefully. "So far as I can see, I
have made a mess of about everything that I have attempted to manage."
"Don't slander yourself; I would not let anyone else say that of you,
most assuredly, and, besides, it is not true, John."
"I am not at all sure of that, Christine." Then he kissed her again,
and went in search of Beth, with whom he had a long talk, despite the
fact that it was then after midnight.
After all, Beth did not return with Dolly. Mrs. Newby frankly owned
that she should feel very anxious if Beth went off to college before her
hands had healed, and Beth found herself the next morning watching her
stepmother unpack her trunk, while she herself was quite rejoiced over
the fact that she should have another week or two at home. So Dolly went
back alone.
Beth came ten days later, and Dolly knew, from the expression of
contentment and happiness on her face, that she was now enjoying the
blessing which a real home and home-love can give.
The term was a busy one for all the girls. They had come to college,
for the most part, at least, because they were inspired by a genuine
love for knowledge. They had their times of recreation, of course, and
their merry evenings in Dolly's room when they again made fudge and
tea. Nevertheless, there was plenty of good, hard work done, and the
Easter holidays found them all ready for a brief rest again. Mary went
home with Dolly, and Beth would stop for one night on her return to
college; but now, strangely enough, as it seemed to Beth herself, she
could scarcely wait to get home.
Beth had roomed alone since Margery Ainsworth's expulsion, and while
Dolly often longed to get permission to move her possessions across the
hall, and become Beth's room-mate, she was too truly fond of Mary by
this time, to wish to hurt her feelings. So, while the girls often wished
that they could room together, it did not seem possible, for the freshmen
year at least.
As commencement time drew near, the other students began to make
arrangements for the next year. Rooms and room-mates were chosen, and
everything gotten into readiness for the ensuing term. Dolly and Beth
were talking it over one day, rather lugubriously, in Beth's room.
"All the other girls have settled their plans, and I have been hoping
that Mary would say something to me. She must know that we want to room
together. Of course, I like her, but not as much as I like you. I am
going to speak to her today, Beth."
"I really think that that is the only thing left to be done; but we
don't want to hurt her feelings, Dolly."
"I'll try not to do that, Beth, but we must settle affairs."
However, Mary herself introduced the weighty topic that evening, when the
three were making tea.
"Of course, I know that you two girls want to room together next year,
but I hope that you have not spoken for a room yet."
Dolly flushed a little. "We would not be very apt to make any
arrangements without telling you, Mary. You ought to know that we
don't do underhanded things."
"Why, Dolly, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings at all, but I supposed
you would room together. That was settled long ago, wasn't it? But I
have a little scheme, too, that I trust you will like."
"Tell us about it," and Dolly looked a trifle ashamed of her
unnecessary heat.
"Aunt Mary has her bedroom and sitting-room, of course, to herself, but
opening onto her sitting-room from the other side is a small storeroom.
The president says that I may have that as a bedroom if I wish, and I
can use Aunt Mary's sitting-room. They will fit it up this summer. The
college needs more rooms, anyway. Now beyond my room are some lovely
rooms for you girls, if you want them. What do you say? I don't want
to be selfish, but it did seem to me that it might be a lovely plan."
"Lovely? It is grand! Superb! You are a duck and a darling, Mary, to
have thought of it."
"Dolly thinks that she will be near Professor Newton now, and she would
be willing to room on the roof to effect that," said Beth mischievously.
But Dolly was too elated to mind Beth's teasing. "We'll make all sorts
of pretty things this summer. By the way, Beth, where do you intend to
spend the summer, anyway?"
"Father says that Mother and I may decide that weighty matter. We have
been in the habit of going to the seashore, but he fancies that some
other place would be better for Roy, although the child is very much
stronger since Mother has had him at home under her eye."
"Then, Elizabeth Newby, I will tell you what to do. Mother writes that
Father has taken the same cottage at the Thousand Isles that we had last
year. You must come there, too. We can have an ideal time. Fred likes
fishing and yachting. He will be away part of the summer, but will be
with us at first, and a crowd of his friends, too. We can have glorious
times! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah!" echoed Beth, for the idea caught her fancy. "We shall
certainly do it! Mother will agree to whatever I propose. I wish you
were to be there, too, Mary."
But Mary shook her head contentedly. "I know it is much more beautiful
than our farm, but I don't believe that even a sight of the Alps would
induce me to miss my visit home."
"Of course not. But you see, fortunately, Dolly and I mean to take our
families along. What a good time we shall have! I wonder if Professor
Newton wouldn't like to make us a little visit? It is beautiful there,
and the ride on the steamers, out and in among the islands on a moonlight
night, is as lovely as anything in fairyland."
"Go and ask her, Dolly, run right off! Someone else may get her promise
first!"
"Be still, Beth! Do you think that she would like to go, Mary?"
"I should certainly suppose that she would be delighted. By the way,
as we are only insignificant freshies still, and have no receptions or
other grand functions on hand like the other classes, she wanted to know
if we would spend Tuesday evening with her."
"Will we? Of course we will! When did she ask us? Why didn't you tell
us before?"
"She gave me the message this afternoon, and you have really not given
me a chance to tell it before."
"What a libel. Say to her that we will go; no doubt of that, is there,
Dolly? Let us put on our best gowns and do justice to the occasion. Is
anyone else invited, Mary?"
"We are to go immediately after dinner, and a couple of hours later,
Miss Hamilton and some fifteen others will arrive. We must help entertain
them. You know there is nothing special on hand for Tuesday evening."
"We should go, anyway, no matter where else we were invited," declared
Dolly with decision. "By the way, girls, the year is practically over,
and our president still goes on her way serenely, and the very snobbiest
girls in the class adore her."
"I am glad. We don't want any class rows, and you know very well how
Abby Dunbar and Helen Raymond would act, if they knew the truth. Though,
after all, I cannot see what difference it makes."
"Where is she going this summer? Do either of you know?"
"I asked her yesterday. She is going home for three or four weeks with
Abby Dunbar. After that, she and her mother are going to some quiet
country place."
Beth gave a sudden laugh. "You know, Mrs. Hamilton never comes to the
college, but Margaret goes to see her almost daily. Abby Dunbar must
have seen her on the evening of our entertainment, for she told me that
she admired Mrs. Hamilton _so_ much; it was such a pity that she was
an invalid! Margaret has never said that she was an invalid, you know. I
suppose Abby just concluded that she must be, because she leads such a
quiet life."
"She does it entirely for Margaret's sake, I'm sure. Not that Margaret
asks her to do it, but she fears to meet people who knew her when she
was a servant. Abby approves of her, because she dresses well, and is at
the most aristocratic boarding-place in Westover."
"There is just one thing that I should not do, were I Margaret," said
Beth slowly. "Knowing Abby Dunbar as well as she does, she must be
confident that Abby would not take her home, did she know that both of
Margaret's parents had been servants the greater part of their lives.
Knowing that, I think that Margaret does wrong to go."
"Isn't that a matter of standpoints? Margaret may reason that _she_ is
the one invited, and that who or what her parents were, need not concern
any person save herself. She would not deny the truth if questioned,
but she sees no use in advertising it. I must say," concluded Mary,
energetically, "that I agree with her."
"Well, in her place, my dear, I should accept no invitations except such
as I were sure would be given, even if all the facts were known."
"I hope they will not be known for the next three years, at least. By
the way, do you both thoroughly realize that when we return this fall,
we shall not be insignificant freshmen, but lofty sophomores? That we
shall not be lonely and homesick and have no one to whom to talk, and
that we can haze the newcomers?"
The girls laughed.
"What bliss awaits us! By the way, Dolly, you must be our president next
year."
"I don't know," began Dolly, but Beth broke in;
"No, she can't be. Don't look so surprised; I am wiser now than
formerly, and I want Dolly to be president in our senior year. I find
that it is an unwritten law that the same person cannot be president
during two years. It seems to be the opinion that there is plenty of
good material for officers in the class, and that it would be piggish
for one person to be president twice. It doesn't make any difference
about the other officers, for they are not so important. I am glad,
now, that Margaret Hamilton was elected last fall."
"And I am glad that you confess it at last, Beth. Listen a moment! Let
us go and see what all that hubbub in the hall means. Even for the last
week of college, it seems to me there is a dreadful amount of noise."
"There certainly is, and it behooves us to investigate."
A louder scream from the hallway made the girls rush out unceremoniously.