Free from school duties, Greycliff girls made plans for the coming year
and threw themselves into the relief work. There were letters from
somewhere in France, boxes sent and mementos received. The great drive
was on in Europe and haunting fear hovered over American homes thus far
untouched. Yet men, women and maids went courageously forward doing
“their bit.”
Cathalina and Lilian had already made their arrangements to study in New
York. Lilian was giving up her music temporarily, for she said that she
did not have the heart to sing while Philip was in France. But she was
continually singing, after all, in patriotic gatherings or in the
hospitals.
Hilary had decided to go to the denominational school which her parents
had selected. Always considering what would be to her advantage, they
concluded that school life would be less distracting for her away from
home, unless she really preferred to be at home and attend the excellent
university in the city. But Betty wrote that her father was considering
the same school for her, and that Eloise and Helen were waiting for her
decision, hoping that they all might be together again. After a little
correspondence, the matter was settled and the girls were greatly
delighted at the prospect.
Pauline Tracy and Juliet Howe were to attend a western state university
miles and miles away from any of the girls they knew,—so they wrote.
Virginia Hope’s application for a school near her home was successful.
Poor Isabel, perhaps, would have the most lonely time. All the older
Hunt boys were in the army now, even Jim, who had shared the fatherly
responsibility for discipline and finances. It was Isabel’s form of
service to stay at home, put as much cheer as possible into the house,
for the sake of the two younger boys, Aunt Helen and her father, and
take up again the friendships of the home town. To this end Isabel was
bending all her energies when school opened for the rest in September.
About this time, the first round robin spread its wings, carrying
epistles somewhat brief on this first flight, and flew with surprising
speed from one to another, because the girls knew that a quick report of
where they all were was needed. Betty, who started it before she left
home for school, wrote across the top of her first page, in large
capitals, “Procrastination is the thief of time,” and under this, in
smaller but heavily underscored letters, “Do It Now.”
The girls followed her advice and wrote without delay, before the
freshness of the news had been lost.
When this round robin reached Betty again, it had grown much in size.
Taking out her first letter, she replaced it with another and started
the robin anew. But it was delayed this time. Things were happening. The
war was being won, the armistice came, Christmas time, soldiers coming
home—what wonder that girls found little time to write to each other in
this fashion. Betty and Cathalina wrote often, and Lilian heard
regularly from Hilary; but three weeks after Betty had handed the round
robin to Hilary she inquired for it, to find that it was in Helen’s
portfolio.
Hilary had been writing a theme and was late in handing the letters to
Eloise. Eloise was to sing at a recital, and Helen had just forgotten
it. Such is sometimes the fate of round robins! By the time the letters
reached Pauline and Juliet, it was nearly time for the Christmas
vacation, and when they arrived in New York the March days were on, many
of the soldier boys at home, and life changing very fast for some of the
Greycliff girls.
“Round robin coming home again,” said Hilary, as she threw the fat
envelope in Betty’s lap one spring day. “Let’s all read it together.”
“Yes, let’s do,” said Helen, “and I will make a few extracts for Evelyn.
I had a forlorn letter from her today, asking why I did not write and
saying that she was starved for news from everybody.”
“She ought to have joined the round robin company.”
“So she says; I will put her name on the list, Betty, and this time I
will just tell her the main things. I’ll call it ‘feathers from the
round robin’.”
“That is good, Helen, and be sure to give her our special love. Is Percy
back?”
“Yes, but Evelyn is interested in one of the wounded boys now, a sort of
cousin of hers.”
“The one she was engaged to once?”
“Oh, yes.”
Betty was opening the large envelope and sorting out the letters which
had been written by the “assembled company,” as she said. “Shall we
glance through each other’s letters?” she asked.
“We know all each other’s news,” reminded Hilary.
“Yes, but we might have said something brilliant, you know,” suggested
Eloise. “It would be a pity to miss anything.”
“Oh, here’s something characteristic from Isabel,” said Betty a little
later. “Listen! She says, ‘I have just _devoured_ the round robin!
Query,—what can you devour and not destroy? The answer is,—a round
robin. It was so good to hear from you all again.’” Here Betty
exclaimed, with a sympathetic “Oh, poor Isabel!”
“What is it?” asked all the girls.
“I’ll just go and read it: ‘You will be sorry for us when I tell you
about Lou, who is still in a hospital in France, and we have been so
worried. At first we got such good news about him, we thought, but he
was gassed and wounded, too, and is not doing very well. Milt is with
him, though, and will bring him home in a few weeks, he thinks. Jim is a
casual now—I’m thankful to say not a casualty—and is wandering around at
the pleasure of various authorities. It is so aggravating when we want
him to come home so much and he is needed. But there are other men in
the army that are worse off.’”
“Take the New York letters next, Betty, will you? We’ve finished reading
these from Pauline and Juliet,—or would you rather read them first.”
“No, I don’t care in what order I read them. Here are those from
Cathalina and Lilian. Shall I read Cathalina’s to you?”
“Yes,” said Helen, “and Hilary can read Phil’s.”
The news from New York was especially interesting, though Hilary had
heard some of it through letters from Campbell Stuart. The cousins,
however, had been widely separated and knew little of each other’s
movements.
“Think of it,” said Helen, “another school year almost gone, and the
boys coming home!”
“It has been a long year,” said Hilary, “and some of them are sleeping
‘on Flander’s Field’.”
But it was in April that the most astounding news came to Betty and the
other girls. It came in a letter from Cathalina, who told how Lilian’s
brother Dick came home looking more ‘fit’ than ever in his life, and how
he and Captain Van Horne, who was growing strong after his wounds, were
in the law office with every chance of success, how Philip was trying to
build up the business which had suffered during the war, with much more
about everybody. Then she asked, “Are you girls prepared to be
bridesmaids in June?”
“Oh, now Lilian and Phil are going to be married!” exclaimed Hilary.
“Funny that she has not said so to me!”
Betty shook her head. “Guess again,” said she.
“Dick and Louise Van Ness,” said Helen.
“But they would not want _us_ to be bridesmaids.”
“I see a dawning intelligence on Hilary’s face,” laughed Betty. “It is,
Hilary, it’s Cathalina.”
“Cathalina!” exclaimed Helen.
“Bless her heart, it was his wound that did it,” said Eloise.
“I can’t read you all the letter, and yet I know in my bones that she
will tell you all about it when you see her. Cathalina is shy about some
things, you know.”
“Cathalina!” exclaimed Helen again. “Now I would have said that Lilian
would be the first and Hilary the second bride, unless Betty,
possibly,——”
Helen was looking at Eloise as she spoke, and Eloise assented to her
statement.
“Not I,” laughed Betty. “I’m thankful that Donald escaped the
submarines, but it will be some years yet before we can get married.
Both of us have to finish college and then Donald will have to get a
start in business. Philip and Dick and Cathalina’s lover are lucky.”
“When did you say the wedding is to be?” asked Helen.
“In June, but the date is not fixed yet. She wants us all for
bridesmaids and will fix the time after school is out, is writing to all
the girls to find out if they can come.”
“Whom do you mean by all the girls? She couldn’t have the whole Psyche
Club, could she?”
“No; she said that she was afraid Pauline, Juliet and Virgie could not
even get to the wedding from things they have written about their plans,
you know. She wants me for maid of honor,—think of it—her mother wants
to have a big wedding and Cathalina doesn’t mind. Then she wants to have
you three girls, of course, with Lilian and Isabel, and then that cousin
of hers that is about her age, Nan Van Ness. And Charlotte Van Ness is
to be flower girl. She says that is as far as she has planned. No, for
there is one thing more,—she wants us to have delicate colors, different
colors, and be the ‘butterfly girls’ of the Psyche Club.”
“Oh, that will be lovely. Cathalina will make a beautiful bride. Did she
say how she is going to be dressed or anything more about how she wanted
the bridesmaids’ dresses to be?”
“No, only that she hadn’t thought it out yet, and she wants us to be
planning to come as soon as school is out in June for a real house-party
again.”
“A house-party, and while they are getting ready for a wedding?” asked
Helen in surprise.
“Cathalina wrote—well, I’ll read it to you: ‘I have not thought out the
details yet. It is all so new and wonderful to be engaged to a man
who,’—maybe I’d better leave out that—anyway she says that it’s love’s
young dream as yet. ‘But Mother and I will sit down some day and put it
all on paper, just what we want, and then the housekeeper and the
decorator and the caterer will carry it all out. I’m going to let Mother
plan my clothes. We’ll do some shopping together right away, and perhaps
Lilian and Mrs. North will go with us some time. Aunt Katharine will
take an interest, too. So about all little Cathalina will have to do is
to try on clothes and say whether she likes them or not. At first I did
not like the thought of a big wedding, but Mother has just one girl to
be married, and believes in being married in church, and then we have so
many friends and such a family connection that there isn’t any other
way.’”
“I see,” said Helen. “I suppose that Mrs. Van Buskirk is used to
planning for big entertainments.”
“I think that they usually have small companies, but they can have the
others and do occasionally,” said Hilary. “Then they have plenty of help
always. In some ways it’s more fun to do things yourself, but this will
be as perfect as money and good taste can make it. And we shall have a
glorious visit.”
“What shall we give her for our wedding present?”
“The Psyche Club might give her a pretty little white marble Psyche.”
“A fine idea, Hilary. Cathalina would love that, I know,—a real
beautiful one. But perhaps she has one.”
“No; she spoke about it once and that is what made me think of it, but
I’m pretty sure that she has not bought one.”
“Then that makes the club present provided for. I’m afraid it will be
hard to think up presents for one who has everything she wants—almost.”
“I felt that way, too, at first,” said Hilary, “when I first visited
Cathalina, but there are ever so many real simple things that Cathalina
likes and I never knew anybody that appreciated being thought of more
than Cathalina. Not that she expects it at all, but she shows so much
real pleasure and delight that it warms your heart to do anything for
her.”
“Cathalina admires my embroidery,” said Eloise, “and I’m going right
down street tomorrow and buy the finest linen I can find and start
something. What shall it be?—doilies? table cover?—Oh, well, I can think
it out better after I look around the shops a little.”
“I could hemstitch and embroider some ‘hankys’,” said Helen.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to have a shower while we are at Cathalina’s?”
“Yes, Betty, but we would not be there long enough beforehand.”
“Cathalina says that she wants us two weeks beforehand, if it is
possible.”
“Let’s hope that school closes early, then.”
“We can plan to leave right after examinations, and not stay for the
Commencement. We are not graduating, and what is a Commencement compared
with a wedding?”
“If we had not been to so many Commencement exercises at Greycliff we
might not think so, but I fully agree with you,” said Hilary. “We can go
right on now with plans for our little gifts and have our clothes ready
for the trip. Think of it!”
On the next mail there came a letter from Cathalina directed to Hilary
and addressed to all the girls, inviting them to be her bridesmaids and
telling of her plans. The date was the same as that of Betty’s and the
two letters had been mailed at the same time. “I’m going to write to
each one of you, separately, and later will have more to tell you about
plans. If you have any suggestions,—mail them on!” There was much more,
all in the happiest vein. Later the formal invitations were sent.
* * * * *
In New York, there was among the relatives a pleasant excitement over
the engagement and approaching marriage of Cathalina. Nan Van Ness, who
was the only one of the girls in the family to be a bridesmaid, was at
the Van Buskirk house a great deal of the time. Lilian ran in and out,
of course, and the girls were in the gayest of spirits. Philip suggested
to Lilian that there be a double wedding, but Lilian said that it would
not do.
“I’m sure that your mother would want this to be Cathalina’s own
wedding, Philip. I know I would in her place. And besides, I believe I
should prefer to have a wedding of my own, too. Then I can’t leave
Mother for a little while. Hearing that Dick was ‘missing’ and not
knowing any better for a month nearly finished her and she has not
gotten over it yet.”
“All right, best and dearest,” said Philip. “We’ll give our little
sister the finest wedding ever, and then I shall not have to wait too
long, shall I?”
“Not very long, Philip. You have been through enough, and I’ll try to
make you forget the sad things in being happy with me. Mother will not
want to keep us apart. I’ve just been so pleased to see how she fusses
over you since you came home, almost as much as she does over Dick.”
The older girls in the family connection did not expect to be
bridesmaids for this wedding. Cathalina had worried about it a little at
first, although Nan was the only one who was of her own age. She loved
the older girls, but did want her “butterfly girls,” as she sometimes
called the girls of the Psyche Club. And after Cathalina learned through
Aunt Katherine and Louise Van Ness that Ann Maria would be married some
time in the summer or fall to a young officer, she knew that Louise and
Emily and the other girls in Ann Maria’s circle of friends would be
bridesmaids for her.
June came and brought the “butterfly girls” to New York. Leaving before
Commencement permitted them to arrive about the close of the first week
in June, and ten days before the wedding. The pretty bridesmaid gowns
were carefully boxed and came through in good condition. Cathalina’s and
Mrs. Van Buskirk’s maids unpacked for the girls and put their clothes in
drawers and closets. Hilary and Betty were in the rose room, Eloise and
Helen near, Isabel in a small room, to sleep by herself in the few hours
which they spent in that occupation, though Mrs. Van Buskirk came around
herself to see that they did not talk too late, reminding them that they
must keep in fine condition for the great event.
There was so much to talk about! Nearly a year, and a strange year, had
some of them been separated Cathalina waited till all the girls had
arrived and then showed them her pretty trousseau. “Dainty and lovely,
like you, Cathalina,” said Isabel.
“I haven’t had anything packed yet, because I wanted you all to see
everything,” said Cathalina, “but the maid is going to begin as soon as
Mother and I select what I shall want with me. We are going to Canada
for our wedding trip, not much of a trip, just to get there and stay in
a perfectly beautiful country place. We shall be there a month and then
may join the folks at the seashore. It’s all beautifully indefinite, and
Allan and I don’t care where we are just so we are together.”
“‘Allan,’—Captain Van Horne! I was going to ask you, Cathalina, if you
called him by his first name.”
Cathalina laughed. “He doesn’t seem so old to me now as when he was an
instructor at Grant. He’s a good deal of a boy, now that he is happy and
does not have to worry about law school and making a living and all
that. He works too hard, of course, I suppose he always will, but he has
such a fine opportunity now that he need not worry. We are not going to
begin on any large scale of living. Just think, girls, what if I had
never learned anything but just being waited on and wanting everything.
We are going to get a darling little apartment as soon as we come back
and start in that. Mother mourns a little and says, ‘Think of this big
house and nobody but your father and me pretty soon!’ But I think that
Father admires both Allan and Phil for wanting to be independent. If the
presents keep coming at the rate they are, a little apartment will not
hold them all. However, I can store them here.”
“When did it happen, Cathalina?” asked Isabel.
“Getting engaged, you mean?”
Isabel nodded. “I do not mean to be inquisitive, but we thought that you
did not hear from him very often,—and so I just wondered when.”
“No, I did not hear from him often, neither was I sure that he cared in
that way for me. I dreamed of him, but was more or less ashamed of it,
and scolded myself for having such a hero when he probably only thought
of me as a good friend—though there _were_ times——”
“Yes,” said Betty. “If ever there was adoration in a man’s eyes, it was
in Captain Van Horne’s one time, on that picnic at Greycliff. I told
Cathalina so, but she made light of it.”
“What else could I do?” asked Cathalina. “The reason I didn’t hear was
that he was in action so much of the time, and he was wounded twice. The
first time it didn’t amount to much and he went back, but the second
time he was in the hospital over there a long time, and was sent home
from there. He came to New York, but got sick on the way, and had to go
to a hospital here. Then he wrote me a little note and I went to see
him.” Cathalina stopped. “I can just see him now,” she went on in a
moment, lowering her voice. “He was so thin and white and he stretched
out both his hands to me and called me his darling. I felt like his
_mother_ and went right to him and slipped my arm under his head! Wasn’t
it dreadful? He says that he had just waked up and when the nurse showed
me in he thought it must be in heaven. Philip jokes me about it and
tells me that Allan was out of his mind and that I took advantage of it!
But if he were out of his mind for a minute it would not explain all he
told me when he was in his right mind a few minutes later and it all
came out; so I have no reason to wonder about whether he loves me or
not.”
“It’s funny how suddenly these things do happen,” said Hilary, thinking
of her own experience.
“Yes,” said Betty, “but you must remember that everything has been so
different with our boys, and such tragedies of separation have happened
that there has been good reason for romantic and sudden——”
“Episodes,” finished Isabel.
The girls were all sitting on Cathalina’s bed from which the pretty
dresses and other things had been cleared after the display, or on
chairs drawn close as they held this rather intimate conversation, all
so interested and sympathetic toward the prospective bride. Isabel was
on one side of Cathalina and Betty on the other, and all the girls were
so delighted to have the short reunions, so eager to hear the
confidences.
“As soon as Allan was able he went into the office and besides that he
had a little bit of good luck in getting some property sold that had
been only an expense, something from his father’s estate, I guess,—you
know, Betty, how beautifully indefinite I am. I don’t really know,
except that he can afford to get married now. He is coming to call this
evening and see you all. Now ask Lilian how her love affair is coming
on.” Cathalina turned with a smile to her future sister-in-law.
“Yes, Lilian,” said Eloise, “tell us when that event will be.”
“Before so very long, Eloise, but Mother is not well and I shall just
quietly get ready and have a small wedding, though probably in the same
church, and just have the family in afterwards. Mrs. Van Buskirk wants
to give a reception for us after our trip, so that will probably happen.
Could you girls get back for it? I hate to be married without you.”
The girls looked doubtful and regretful. “We always expected to have
this reunion at your wedding, Lilian,” said Eloise, “and did not dream
that Cathalina would be the first one to leave our ranks; but perhaps
you are really more free to visit than you will be later when you are
getting married yourself.”
“There is something in that, Eloise,” acknowledged Lilian. “But come, if
you possibly can,” she added, and the girls all promised that they
would.
That first evening, Allan Van Horne duly appeared. It was the first time
that the girls had seen him not in uniform, either that of the school
where he taught or that of Uncle Sam, and they came to the conclusion
that he appeared well in citizen’s ordinary attire.
“He is handsome even without the uniform, Cathalina,” said Isabel when
she had opportunity for a private remark.
“I don’t know that he is what you would call a handsome man,” replied
Cathalina reflectively, looking across the room at her prospective
husband, who was chatting with Philip, Lilian and Betty. “But he carries
himself so well and has such a fine face. Of course, I think that he is
just about the most adorable man there is.”
“What color are his eyes? I thought they were blue, but they look like
brown eyes tonight.”
“Isn’t that funny? Betty insisted that they were blue, and I thought of
them as brown, and they really are, I guess, though Allan says that he
was said to have hazel eyes. Anyway they are nice, kind eyes.”
Hilary and Campbell were having a little visit now, their chairs drawn
near the piano, where Philip had gone to look over some music for Lilian
to sing. Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk had settled down to read a little or
visit the young people, as it might happen. It was like the good old
days before the war, and the sound of young voices and young laughter
cheered their hearts.
Campbell was telling Hilary a piece of good news. “They want me at the
college, Hilary. I had a letter today from the president. I will be an
instructor at first, but with a fair salary, and a chance to get out my
master’s degree right there. And summers I can work on my line, too.
They will make me an assistant professor as soon as I get the master’s
degree and I can take care of you then. Will you marry me as soon as you
graduate?”
Hilary clasped her hands and exclaimed. “Why, Campbell, what an
opportunity! So I’m to be the wife of a distinguished professor of
economics?”
“I don’t know how ‘distinguished,’ but a respectable teacher, I hope,”
replied Campbell.
“Perhaps you ought to wait until you have all your study accomplished,”
said Hilary.
“The college—university—is big enough for me to do most of it right
there; besides, I want to get a great deal of my material from life and
a study of actual conditions. That is what the department there wants,
and the president was good enough to say that he thought I was the man
who could bring them what they want. Then they don’t know what a
wonderful wife I’m going to take there!”
Hilary laughed. “Well, I do not see but we could marry next summer some
time, while you have your vacation. I shall be graduated about this
time, and you will be through with your first year’s work.”
Just then from the hall came several young men in uniform, ushered by
Watts. “Bob Paget!” exclaimed Cathalina, and the whole company rose
while Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk, Philip and Cathalina went forward to
greet the callers. They were Robert Paget, Lawrence Haverhill and two
other young officers who had recently arrived from France and were still
in uniform. This was very thrilling to Isabel, who began to feel that
she was not altogether left out of romance when Robert, having renewed
acquaintance with his cousin, Helen, selected Isabel as the object of
his chief attentions for the rest of the evening, saying to Cathalina as
he left. “She is as sweet and pretty as a rose. How did it happen that I
never met that one?”
“You were away, I think, when she was here,” Cathalina replied, and
saved the remembrance of his words, to repeat to Isabel.
Cut glass, silver, linen, china,—the gifts came pouring in these last
few days. Then there was a little of the old Van Buskirk silver which
was Cathalina’s share. “I’ve found out, girls,” said she, “that Martin
Van Buskirk was not the first one at all and did not come from Holland
to fight in the Revolution. We had it all looked up when somebody wanted
to go into the Daughters of the Revolution. It was a Laurens Van Buskirk
who came from Denmark and bought a lot on Broad Street, New
Amsterdam,—’way back in 1655. And what do you think,—a John Van Buskirk
married an Esther Van Horn about 1750! So this isn’t the first time that
Van Buskirk and Van Horn have married. We are going to see if she is an
ancestor of Allan’s, if we can find out. She was Esther Van Horn Van
Buskirk, and I’ll be Cathalina Van Buskirk Van Horne. See Isabel shaking
her head! What’s the matter, Isabel?”
“All these ‘Vans’ are too much for me, It’s a good thing you can keep
them straight, Cathalina.”
At last there came the eventful occasion, a mid-June night. Everything
was ready at the Van Buskirk home and an extra maid or two helped the
girls with their dressing. Cathalina had disappeared from view entirely
several hours before, as her mother insisted upon a little rest for
everybody that afternoon, and trays were brought to the rooms about five
o’clock. Bags and trunks were already at the station, checked for the
trip and Allan Van Horne had his tickets safely in the suit to which he
would change from his dress suit. Phil remarked that as there were so
many details to attend to about a wedding he thought that he would “just
kidnap Lilian, stop at a minister’s to be married, and catch the first
train out of New York, or take the boat.”
“Where to?” asked Lilian upon this occasion.
“Heaven,” promptly replied Philip. “Anywhere with you would be that.”
There had been plenty of fun in this time of visiting, but some
seriousness, too. And now the wedding promised to be as beautiful as
Mrs. Van Buskirk wanted it to be for Cathalina.
The night was star-lit, warm, but not stifling, and the June roses in
the vases gave the proper atmosphere to the house. Mr. Van Buskirk told
the girls, as they gathered downstairs preparatory to the ride to the
church, that they did indeed look like “butterfly girls,” with their
vari-colored frocks of soft silk and filmy tulle. All the colors were
pale, Betty’s frock, blue; Lilian’s, peach; Hilary’s, green; Eloise’s,
yellow; Helen’s, orchid; Isabel’s, pink; and Nan’s, lavender. Smiling,
girlish faces above these pale shades and the flowers made a charming
picture for the bride to look upon as she entered to see the girls
before leaving.
They had been talking a little, as they waited these few minutes, but
all conversation stopped as Cathalina came in. Graceful and sweet in her
white satin, the white veil floating back from where it was caught in a
coronet of lace, she was, indeed, their own Cathalina. Betty swallowed a
lump and the tears almost came to Hilary’s eyes. “Oh,” said Isabel,
“when Captain Van Horne sees you coming down the aisle, he will think it
is an angel!”
“Not much of an angel, I’m afraid,” said Cathalina, as she went around
and kissed every one. “Come on, everybody,” she said. “I wanted to tell
you, and Mother is waiting. Have you my flowers, Father?”
“They have been put in the car, little daughter.”
It seemed only a minute before they were at the church getting ready the
little procession which would accompany Cathalina. Philip was best man,
and stood at the altar, with Allan Van Horne, wondering how it would
seem when he was the groom. He suffered one pang when he thought “what
if I haven’t the ring,” but a distinct recollection of putting it in his
pocket consoled him. The old minister, too, was waiting, the same
minister who had baptized Cathalina and was now to marry her.
Then they came, first, Charlotte Van Buskirk, as flower girl. Betty, as
maid of honor; Lilian with Hilary, Eloise with Helen, and Isabel with
Nan followed, and the bride on the arm of Philip Senior. Now the hush,
the solemn words of the service, and Cathalina Van Horne, with her
bridal flowers, walked out of the church on the arm of her husband.
THE END