"Well?"
"You want to see your brother graduate?"
"Of course I do. We have not made any definite plans as yet, but I have
been counting on being at Harvard for all of commencement week, if I can
manage to get permission. Fred wants me to bring Mary and Beth, too."
"That will be fine, but don't you see that Fred cannot do justice to
three young ladies? Let me do the honors of Harvard as far as you are
concerned. Come, now, promise!"
Dolly shook her head. "Fred is a model brother, and I am sure that he
would be utterly disgusted if I should make any such promise as that. I
think that he will be equal to the three of us, but I shall be glad if
you will assist him in his onerous duties."
"You are not very generous to me, but when you find Fred engrossed with
Miss Sutherland, and entirely oblivious to the fact that he has a sister,
I will forgive you, and take you under my protecting care."
"Fred will not forget me."
Her companion laughed mischievously. "I would like to make a wager on
that point, but I know that you never bet--so all I can do is to wait for
the future to prove me a true prophet."
During the busy weeks that followed, Dolly thought of his words more
than once. Was it possible that Fred cared particularly for Mary? She
did not think so. She hoped not, too, for she knew Mary well enough to
be sure that that young lady wasted no thoughts upon Fred, or upon any
other young man.
"All Mary cares for," she told herself half-angrily, "is biology, and
her own family. She has her future mapped out, and she expects to teach
forever and forever. Fred need not waste a single thought on her, and
I do not believe that he does, either."
But when commencement time approached, and Fred was so plainly cast
down over Mary's refusal to go to Harvard, Dolly began to think that
she might be wrong in her conclusions. Fred had the matter so much at
heart that he bespoke his mother's influence, and Mary at length gave
a reluctant consent.
"But I have nothing to wear that is new and pretty, Dolly, and you will
be ashamed of me."
The conversation took place in Professor Newton's room, and she
interposed at this point. "You must have a new white dress, Mary, and
it shall be my present to you. We will get a very pretty one, and
with what you have already, Dolly need not be ashamed of you."
"As if I would be, anyway," Dolly protested reproachfully.
But Professor Newton realized that a new dress may give a girl a
certain self-possession and ease, so she was determined that her niece
should have at least one gown that would be becoming and suitable. Mary
grumbled, over the waste of money, as she termed it, but her aunt
quietly silenced her, and sent her off to Harvard, hoping that, for
once in her life, Mary would act like a young girl instead of an old
woman, and would get as much pleasure out of the week as Beth and Dolly
did.
Probably, to the majority of visitors, the Commencement that year was
like other Commencements, but Dolly was sure that it was much more
brilliant than anything ever before held at old Harvard.
Rob Steele had won substantial honors, and both Fred and Dick Martin had
earned their degrees. The boys saw that the girls had a share in all the
fun that was going on.
Westover would not close for another fortnight, but examinations were
over, and the girls could enjoy themselves with an easy mind. Dolly found
herself depending upon Dick Martin rather more than she had expected to
do.
"Am I not a better prophet than you thought?" he asked one day when
Fred and Mary had disappeared.
"I am afraid that you are."
"Afraid! I beg your pardon, but I do not understand you. I imagined
that you would be quite pleased to find that Fred appreciated Miss
Sutherland."
"But she does not appreciate him!"
"You are sure?"
"Positive."
Dick gave a low whistle. "I never thought of that phase of the subject,
I'll confess. Fred is such a good fellow that I supposed anyone would
like him."
"Mary likes him, but that is all. He certainly cannot vie in interest
in her mind with biology."
"Poor Fred."
Dolly sprang up. "I am not going to worry about Fred. Mary and he are
good friends, and Fred is far too young yet to think of anything else."
Martin indulged in a long laugh. "Don't let him hear you, or he will
think that you do not appreciate his years and new dignities. As a matter
of fact, more than fifty per cent. of the students here are engaged."
"How unutterably foolish."
"Why, pray?"
"Because they are too young to know what they want, or what kind of
women they really like. If they studied harder, they would not be getting
into so much mischief."
"Then you think the boys should wait until--"
"Until they are not boys," finished Dolly abruptly. "Come and let us
hunt up the others."
And for the remaining days of the visit, Dolly was unapproachable, though
why she acted just so, was a matter which she herself could not have
explained very satisfactorily.
There had been considerable discussion over the summer plans. The Aldens
and Newbys went to the Thousand Isles finally, though Mr. Alden insisted
that another year they must try the seashore.
Rob Steele had gone directly from Harvard to Philadelphia, and was
working hard in Mr. Newby's office. He had not broken down during his
senior year, but he had been very near doing so. Later in the summer he
and Fred might go camping for a fortnight in the Adirondacks, but he
refused all invitations to the Islands. "He could afford neither the
time nor the money, for such a delightful outing."
Constance and her mother had gone to England for the summer. Margaret
Hamilton and her mother were spending the warm weather at a pleasant
farmhouse near Westover. Dolly and Beth heard from both the girls
frequently.
Margery Ainsworth had found tutoring to do--and was perfectly happy in
consequence. She begged her father to let her try and find some work
the next year; she was sure that she could find something which she was
capable of doing, but her father would not listen.
"My health is none too good, Margery, and when I am gone, I want to
know that you will be able to take care of your mother well. You cannot
do that now. You are not fitted for any special thing. You would be
compelled to work for a low salary, and when hard times came, you might
find yourself without any position at all. I should like to give you
a couple of years of post-graduate study, too, but that is impossible
now."
So Margery yielded, knowing in her heart that her father's plan was
really the wisest, and promising herself to utilize every moment. Yet
she hated the thought of drawing upon their small reserve fund for her
college expenses.
It was Professor Arnold who finally came to her assistance. College had
opened and the work of the year had fairly commenced. Professor Arnold
was none too popular with the girls, principally for the reason that
none of them understood her well. She was exacting in the classroom, and
indolent students received small mercy at her hands. Yet when people
once penetrated beneath her reserve, they found her lovable, charming
and sincere.
She knew Margery Ainsworth's circumstances well, and since the girl's
second entrance at college had watched her keenly. Now she went to her
with a proposition that filled Margery with the keenest gratitude. "Miss
Ainsworth, could you manage to take the Latin classes in the preparatory
department? You are perfectly competent to do the work, and if you think
that you can find the time and if you care to undertake it, what you do
there will balance your expenses here."
There was no doubt that Margery would find the time. What wouldn't
she do for the sake of paying her own way? So she undertook the work
eagerly, and wrote a joyful letter home. Mr. Ainsworth shook his head
rather dubiously over it. He feared that his daughter was undertaking
more than her strength would permit, but he did not like to forbid the
plan definitely, and so Margery went on with the work. There were many
times when she was so tired that it did seem as if she could not prepare
her own recitations for the next day, but she never quite gave way, and
she never once regretted the fact that she had undertaken the extra
duties.
Professor Arnold kept a watchful eye on her, although Margery was not
aware of it, and she became more and more certain, as the year went
by, that Margery was just the person that Madame Deveaux would want
the next year, at her exceedingly fashionable school in New York.
One of the teachers would leave at the close of the present year, and
Madame had already asked Professor Arnold to secure someone for her. So,
although Margery did not know it, her way was being made plain and
easy. Constance, too, had been thinking of Margery, but when she found
out, accidentally, what Professor Arnold's plan was, she said nothing
more, merely resolving to make Margery's holidays as pleasant as
possible. And Margery would be happy in her work, knowing that she
was helping her home folks and was making the best atonement possible
for her former folly.
Class elections passed off smoothly. As Beth said, she had not planned
things for two long years just to fail at the last moment. Beth's
"ticket," as Dolly insisted on calling it, was carried through
triumphantly, and without any hard feelings on the part of any one.
So Dolly was elected president, Margaret was editor-in-chief of the
_Chronicle_, Constance was historian, and both Mary and Beth were on
the executive committee. Beth had objected decidedly when her name was
proposed, but she was so capable and energetic, that her classmates
really wanted her in that all-important place.
The majority of the girls had their plans more or less well defined for
the next year. Margaret had already given her name to the faculty as an
applicant for a school, and it was hardly to be doubted that she would
get what she wished. Westover ranked so high among colleges, that its
graduates were in demand every place, and each year brought the faculty
scores of letters, from both public and private schools, asking that
one of Westover's graduates be sent them.
Constance would take a couple of years of post-graduate work before
going into the College Settlement. Several of the others expected to be
back for one year at least, Hope Brereton, Hazel Browne, Ada Willing and
Florence Smith. Some of the others, too, perhaps, but neither Dolly
nor Beth felt that they could be spared longer from home. Beth knew
how much her stepmother and the children looked forward to the next
year, and so, although she did wish at times that she might be back at
Westover for some special work in mathematics, she did not entertain the
thought seriously, for the boys really needed her, and her father said
that they were lonesome at home without her. She would help to make her
home as pleasant as she could, and she would do some earnest work with
her music. Without doubt there would be enough to keep her busy! She
would find plenty of duties when she came to look for them.
Dolly knew that her father and mother felt that they had spared her as
long as they could. Fred would still be away for several years, for
he had decided to take a thorough course in electrical engineering in
Boston. Dick Martin was studying medicine there, so that the two saw
considerable of each other.
Mary Sutherland was hoping for a place in the preparatory department the
next year, so that she could teach, and yet do extra work in the line
of biology.
"Why, Mary Sutherland," Dolly exclaimed, when Mary first confided this
plan to her, "I should think that you knew all there was to be known
about that subject now."
Mary stared at her friend in honest horror. "I could never know all
about it, Dolly, if I should live as long as Methuselah and study day
and night. I don't know enough to try and teach anything about it yet,
but sometime I hope I may."
"Fred can't hope to compete with biology, so far as Mary is
concerned," Dolly told herself emphatically, for by this time she
acknowledged that Dick Martin had been correct, and that Fred's
interest in Mary was more than a friendly one. It seemed strange
enough to Dolly that this was so, for Mary was not pretty, and she had
none of the little accomplishments which usually attract young men.
Now, if it had only been Beth! and Dolly sighed dismally. It would have
been so lovely to have Beth for a sister; of course, she liked Mary,
but she could never care as much for her, or for anyone else, as for Beth.
While all of the girls were anxious to be at home, they dreaded the
leaving of college and the breaking up of the ties which had bound
them so closely for four years. It seemed as if time had never rushed
on as swiftly as during those last months. Class Day and Commencement
were upon them almost before they realized it. Dolly had made a very
dignified, impartial president, and the class was delighted at its
own good judgment in selecting her.
The _Chronicle_ had flourished under Margaret's management; it had
contained more bright and witty things than ever before, and Beth heard
some of the juniors groaning over their patent inability to keep the
magazine, during the ensuing year, up to its present standard of merit.
Beth repeated the remark with much delight to Margaret. "It has been a
great success, girls, and we owe it all to Margaret. She has put soul
and life into it. In fact, I think we can be proud of our record all
the way through college; we have the largest class ever graduated; we
certainly have some of the brightest students that were ever within
these walls, we have the most unique entertainments of any class, and
the _Chronicle_ has never been as good as it is this year."
"How we apples do swim!" said Dolly mockingly.
"You are as proud of this class as I am, and you know it, Dolly Alden!
Professor Newton told me the other day that the faculty was perfectly
satisfied with us. We have some actually brilliant students here. Look
at Amy Norton, for instance! She is a phenomenon. Our choir is fine, and
altogether," Beth wound up emphatically, "we are just about as nice a
class as you can find any place."
"We are nice," Dolly conceded, "but, Beth, let me tell you that our
pride is going to have a fearful fall in one particular."
"I don't understand you."