A HUMILIATING REPRIMAND
To Grace forty-eight hours with her chums seemed hardly longer than
forty-eight minutes, and she found it an exceedingly difficult task to
divide her time equally among them. She went directly to the Southards
for dinner, and to the theater that night with David, Miriam and Miss
Southard to see Everett Southard and Anne as the ill-fated king and
queen in "Macbeth." To her delight she discovered that the opposite box
held Elfreda, Arline, Ruth, Mabel Ashe, Mr. Ashe and Mr. Thayer, and
after the play they were Mr. Ashe's guests at supper.
On Saturday the devoted little band gathered at Arline's home at nine
o'clock in the morning, determined to crowd every possible bit of
pleasure into the hours that were theirs. On Sunday it was Mabel Ashe
who played hostess, and on Sunday night a goodly company saw Grace to
the station and safely on her way.
It was eleven o'clock when she let herself into Harlowe House, and
hurried upstairs, anxious to relax and be comfortable after her long
ride. As she had expected, on opening the door of her room, she saw
Emma, her tall, thin figure wrapped in the folds of a gay crepe kimono,
seated before the table, industriously looking over, and marking,
themes.
"Hello, Gracious," she caroled amiably, laying down the sheet of paper
she held in her hand and making a quick dive for Grace. "I began to
thing you weren't coming home to-night. How are you, and how is
everybody? In spite of being fairly swamped with themes, I managed to
arise in my might and make cocoa. It's in the chocolate pot and there
are some extra fine Dean-made sandwiches to match. Now say, 'Emma, you
are one in a million, and a cook besides.' Give me your coat and hat.
Your kimono and slippers await you."
"What a dear you are, Emma," declared Grace, as she handed her wraps to
Emma and began to unhook her skirt. "How I wish you had been with us.
The girls were so sorry you couldn't come. Elfreda says she is going to
descend upon you some Friday and carry you off for a week end,
regardless of howls and protests."
Emma's expressive face lighted with whimsical tenderness. "J. Elfreda
never forgets, does she? Here's your cocoa, Grace. Help yourself to
sandwiches."
Seating themselves opposite each other at the oak center table, the
plate of sandwiches and the chocolate pot between them, the two young
women settled themselves for a talk which lasted until after midnight.
"We are setting a fearful example for our girls," remarked Grace
yawning, as they finally arose to prepare for bed. "I hope we haven't
disturbed Miss Ward. I haven't heard a sound from her room. She must be
asleep. I wonder when she came back."
"Came back from where?" asked Emma.
"From New York City. She took the same train that I took and sat with me
all the way there."
"She did!" exclaimed Emma. "That doesn't tally with what I heard in the
registrar's office Friday afternoon. I'm afraid she didn't ask
permission to go, Grace."
"Oh, she must have had permission!" A look of surprise, mingled with
consternation, sprang into Grace's eyes.
"Did she tell you she had the joyful sanction of the registrar?" quizzed
Emma.
"No--o. She made a half apology for not telling me that she was going to
New York. She said she was not sure of going until the last minute. I
supposed, of course, that she had permission. Why will she persist in
disobeying the rules of the college?" asked Grace despairingly. "What
was said in the registrar's office, Emma, or aren't you at liberty to
tell me?"
"Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn't have mentioned it," declared Emma.
"Friday afternoon I went over to Overton Hall to see Miss Sheldon. Just
as I stepped into her office I met Evelyn coming out looking like a
young thunder cloud. I wondered what had happened to upset her sweet,
even disposition," Emma's tones were distinctly ironical, "and without
asking any questions I soon found out. Miss Sheldon herself looked
anything but pleased and said: 'That Miss Ward is the most insolent girl
with whom I have ever come in contact. I refused to allow her to go to
New York City for the week end and she made some extremely impertinent
remarks to me. She has a condition to work off. I felt justified in
refusing her.'"
"And she disregarded that refusal and went?" questioned Grace
wonderingly. "We would never have dreamed of defying the registrar,
would we, Emma?"
"Hardly," returned Emma. "Even Laura Atkins in her most anarchistic
moods, or Kathleen West with all her thorns set, would have stopped
short of that. I hope the high and mighty Evelyn won't try to drag you
into this affair."
"How can she?" demanded Grace. "I had nothing to do with it."
"Yes, but you rode down to New York City on the same train and in the
same seat with her. She is quite likely to tell the registrar that you
countenanced her going even though Miss Sheldon didn't."
"Oh, she couldn't!" burst forth Grace.
"Why couldn't she?" demanded Emma.
Grace shook her head.
"I think you are a trifle hard on her, Emma. I know she is selfish, but
I don't believe she is malicious."
"I wish I had your faith in people, Grace," said Emma sincerely. "You
always believe them honest until they prove themselves villains, don't
you?"
When the next afternoon, Grace received a curt note from Miss Sheldon
asking her to come to her office at five o'clock, Emma's prophesy loomed
large before her.
"It must be something else," reflected the troubled house mother, as she
prepared for her call on Miss Sheldon. Once in the registrar's office, a
quick glance at the older woman's face, set in lines of annoyance, was
enough to convince Grace that Emma's conjecture had been only too true.
Evelyn had in some way managed to make her a party to her disobedience.
"Good afternoon, Miss Harlowe," said Miss Sheldon stiffly. There was no
trace of her usual friendly manner. "I sent for you this afternoon for
the purpose of clearing up any misunderstanding you may have in regard
to your authority here at Overton. The students in the various houses
are in every instance subject to the rules of Overton College, and it is
the purpose of the faculty to see that these rules are enforced. You
have no authority to grant a student leave of absence, particularly
after that permission has been refused by me."
Then there followed a further sharp reprimand to which Grace listened
gravely, her calm, gray eyes never for an instant leaving Miss Sheldon's
face. Something in the younger woman's composure had its effect upon the
registrar, who, on first seeing Grace, had allowed her displeasure free
rein. She looked searchingly into the quiet face before her and said
more gently, "Perhaps I should have asked you to tell me your side of
the story, before condemning you, Miss Harlowe."
Ah, so there was another side of the story! It was apparently as Emma
had said.
Tears of hurt pride burned behind Grace's eyes, but they never fell.
With a brave effort she steadied her voice. "I do not know what has been
said to you, Miss Sheldon, but I do know that I have never given any
girl at Harlowe House leave of absence from Overton. I would not presume
to do so. I hope I understand the limit of my authority too clearly to
overstep it."
"Then you did not take Miss Ward with you to New York City last Friday
afternoon?"
"Miss Ward was with me on the train and shared my seat, but until I met
her in the station I had not the remotest idea that she intended to go.
I dislike to tell you this, Miss Sheldon, but since you have asked me
this question I can only tell you the truth."
"I am sorry I spoke so hastily, Miss Harlowe," apologized Miss Sheldon,
"but I was greatly displeased. I have sent for Miss Ward. Will you wait
until she comes? You need not unless you wish to do so."
"Thank you," said Grace, a shade of offended dignity in her voice, "but
I must go back to Harlowe House. It is almost dinner time. Good evening,
Miss Sheldon."
Once outside Overton Hall her composure took wings and she brushed the
thick-gathering tears from her eyes as she hurried blindly across the
snow-covered campus in the gray twilight. She was still smarting under
the hurt of the registrar's sharp words. It was unspeakably humiliating
to be told that she had overstepped her authority. She had thought that
Miss Sheldon knew her too well for that. It merely served to show how
little one knew persons, she reflected bitterly. As for Evelyn, the
angry color dyed Grace's cheeks afresh as she thought of the girl's
treachery, and she made a resentful vow that Evelyn Ward should not be
admitted to Harlowe House for her sophomore year.
The brisk walk across the campus in the crisp winter air cooled her
anger, and by the time she had reached the house she felt her
resentment, in a measure, vanishing.
"You were right, Emma," she announced as she walked into their room
where Emma sat plodding laboriously through her weekly mending.
"About Evelyn?"
"Yes."
Emma finished the sleeve of the blouse she was mending with a flourish.
Then, casting a swift, upward glance at Grace, she began singing
dolorously.
"Mend, mend, mend,
On the waist that's weary and worn.
Stitch, stitch, stitch,
Each tatter so jagged and torn.
Collar and cuffs and sleeves,
Cobble and darn and baste,
Before they gape in a ghastly row,
And shriek the dirge of the waist."
Grace's gloomy expression changed to a faint smile which broadened as
Emma's chant went on. At the end of the verse she laughed outright.
"I couldn't be sad for long with you about, Emma," she said
affectionately. "How can you think of such funny things on the spur of
the moment?"
"Oh, I don't know," drawled Emma. "Tell me about everything, Gracious."
"I will," nodded Grace, "but I must run downstairs to the kitchen for a
minute. I'll be back directly."
It was fifteen minutes before she returned. Emma had finished her
mending and was on her knees before the chiffonier putting her waists
away.
"Now I'll tell you," began Grace.
Emma turned her head to listen, but before Grace had time to begin the
door was flung violently open and Evelyn Ward rushed in, her blue eyes
bright with anger. "How could you tell Miss Sheldon that I didn't go to
New York with you? You could have helped me and she wouldn't have said a
word to Miss Wilder. Now I shall be expelled from college and it is all
your fault. You are--"
At this juncture, however, Emma Dean took a hand. Without giving Grace
an opportunity to say a word she marched over to the excited Evelyn.
"Miss Ward, leave this room instantly, and do not come into it again
until you have asked Miss Harlowe to pardon you."
In contrast to Evelyn's half-screamed denunciation Emma's voice was low
and even, but it vibrated with stern command.
"I--she--" began Evelyn, but the look in Emma's eyes was too much for
her. With a half-sobbing cry of anger she rushed from the room.