Grace Harlowe's Problem Page 8

  CHAPTER VIII

  ALL IN THE DAY'S WORK

  With the approach of the Thanksgiving holidays a great pleasure and agreat sorrow came to Grace. The "pleasure" was the joyful news that Mr.and Mrs. Harlowe had accepted an invitation to spend Thanksgiving in NewYork City with the Nesbits. This news meant that, for the first timesince her entrance into college as a freshman, Grace would have thesupreme satisfaction of being with her adored parents on ThanksgivingDay. Anne, Miriam and Elfreda would be with her, too, which made theanticipation of her four days' vacation doubly dear.

  Then almost identical with this great joy had come the great sorrow.Miss Wilder was going away. For the past year she had not been well, andnow she had been ordered West for her health. During Grace's first yearat Harlowe House the regard which Miss Wilder had always felt for her asa student had gradually deepened until the two were on terms ofintimacy. Grace felt the same freedom in going to the dean with herdifficulties as she had with Miss Thompson, her loved principal ofhigh-school days.

  It seemed to her as though this staunch friend, with her kindlytolerance, and her amazing knowledge of girl nature, could never bereplaced. No matter how worthy of respect and admiration her successormight be, she could never quite equal Miss Wilder. The possibility ofOverton without her had never occurred to Grace. True she had noted onseveral occasions that Miss Wilder looked very pale and tired. She wasconsiderably thinner, too, than when Grace had entered college as afreshman, yet she had always given out the impression of tirelessenergy. Grace had never heard her complain of ill health, yet here shewas, threatened with a nervous breakdown. The only remedy, a completerest. As soon as her successor had been appointed she would start for anextended western trip in search of health, which only time, the open airand rest could restore. At the older woman's request Grace spent as muchtime as possible in her company. They had long talks over the subjectthat lay closest to the young house mother's heart, the welfare of herflock, and Grace derived untold benefit from the dean's counsel.

  It now lacked only a little time until Overton College would lose one ofits staunchest friends. Divided between the anticipation of meeting andthe pain of parting, Grace hardly knew her own state of mind. It waswith a very sober face that she hung the telephone on its receiver onegray November morning, and slipping into her wraps, set out for OvertonHall in obedience to Miss Wilder's telephoned request. The new dean,Miss Wharton, had arrived, and Miss Wilder was anxious that Grace shouldmeet her. Miss Wharton had expressed herself as interested in MissWilder's account of Harlowe House and its unique system of management.She had also expressed her desire to meet Grace, and Miss Wilder,hopeful that this interest might prove helpful to Grace, had readilyacceded to her wish.

  Grace set forth for Overton Hall in good spirits, but whether it was theeffect of the raw November morning or that the shadow of parting hungheavily over her, she suddenly felt her exhilaration vanish. A strangesense of gloomy foreboding bore down upon her. She found herselfstrangely reluctant to meet Miss Wharton. She had a strong desire toabout-face and return to Harlowe House. "What is the matter with you,Grace Harlowe?" she said half aloud. With an impatient squaring of hershoulders she marched along determined to be cheerful and make the bestof what she could not change.

  As she entered Miss Wilder's office her quick glance took in the short,rather stout figure seated beside Miss Wilder. This, then, was MissWharton. What Grace saw in that quick glance was a round, red, satisfiedface lit by two cold pale blue eyes, and surmounted by lifeless brownhair, plentifully streaked with gray. There was neither grace normajesty in her short, dumpy figure, and Grace's first impression of herwas decidedly unpleasant. An impression which she never had reason tochange.

  Miss Wilder rose to meet Grace with outstretched hand. "My dear, I amglad to see you this morning."

  "And I to see you," responded Grace, her gray eyes full of affectionateregard. "How are you feeling to-day, Miss Wilder?"

  "Very well, indeed, for me," smiled the dean. "Almost well enough togive up my western rest, but not quite. My heart is in my work here. Itis hard to leave it even for a little while. But I am leaving it in goodhands. I wish you to meet Miss Wharton, Grace."

  She presented Grace to the other woman, who did not offer to take thehand Grace extended, but bowed rather distantly. The color stung Grace'scheeks at the slight. Still she forced herself to try to say honestly,"I am glad to know you, Miss Wharton."

  "Thank you," was the cold response, "You are much younger than I wasled to believe. It is rather difficult to imagine you as the head of acampus house. You give one the impression of being a student."

  Grace's eyes were fixed on the new dean with grave regard. Was thissalutary speech purely impersonal or did a spice of malicious meaninglurk within it? Not since those far-off days when Miss Leece, adisagreeable teacher of mathematics at Oakdale High School, had made heralgebra path a thorny one had she encountered any instructor thatreminded her in the least of the one teacher she had thoroughlydespised. Yet, as she strove to fight back her growing dislike and replyimpersonally, she was seized with the conviction that even as she andMiss Leece had been wholly opposed to each other, so surely would sheand Miss Wharton find nothing in common. After what seemed an hour, butwas in reality a minute, Grace forced herself to smile and say withquiet courtesy, "This is my second year as house mother at HarloweHouse. I am frequently taken for a student. I really feel no older thanmy girls, and I hope I shall always feel so."

  "It isn't years that count with Miss Harlowe," smiled Miss Wilder,coming to Grace's defense. "It is the ability to keep things movingsuccessfully, and Miss Harlowe has shown that ability in a markeddegree," she added.

  "Has she, indeed?" returned Miss Wharton, with what Grace felt to beforced politeness. "I shall be interested in visiting Harlowe House andlearning Miss Harlowe's successful methods of management." Then sheturned to Miss Wilder and began a conversation from which it appeared asthough she deliberately sought to exclude Grace.

  "I must go, Miss Wilder," said Grace, rising almost immediately. Shedecided that she could not and would not endure Miss Wharton's rudeness.

  Miss Wilder looked distressed. She could not understand Miss Wharton'sattitude, therefore there was nothing to do save ignore it.

  "Very well, my dear. Run in and see me to-morrow. I shall be here fromtwo o'clock until four in the afternoon." She took one of Grace's softhands in both of hers. The brown eyes met the gray questioning ones witha look of love and trust. Grace's resentment died out. She said a formalgood-bye to Miss Wharton and hurried from the room. She would go to seeMiss Wilder the next day as she had requested. Perhaps Miss Wharton'srude reception of her was due merely to a brusque trait of character.Perhaps she belonged to the old school who believed that youth andresponsibility could not go hand in hand. At any rate she would tryhard not to judge. Although she usually found her first impressions tobe correct, still there were always exceptions. Miss Wharton might proveto be the exception.

  On her way home she stopped at Wayne Hall. To her it was a house oftender memories, and she never entered its hospitable doors without halfexpecting to see the dear, familiar faces of the girls long gone fromthere to the busy paths of the outside world.

  "Why, how do you do, Miss Harlowe?" was Mrs. Elwood's delightedgreeting. "It certainly is good to see you. I think you might run overoftener when you're so near, but I s'pose you have your hands full withall those thirty-four girls. Did you come to see Miss West and MissEliot? If you did, they're both at home, for a wonder. Miss West doesn'thave a recitation at this hour, and Miss Eliot's sick."

  "Sick!" Grace sprang to her feet. "Oh, I must run up and see her atonce. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Elwood, I came to see you. I hadn'tthe least idea that either of the girls were in, but if you'll forgiveme this time I'll run upstairs to see Patience and make you a specialvisit some other day."

  "Oh, I'll forgive you, all right," laughed Mrs. Elwood. "I'm gla
d to seeyour bright face, if it's only for five minutes, Miss Harlowe."

  "You're a dear." Grace dropped a soft kiss on Mrs. Elwood's cheek, thenhurried up the stairs, two at a time. Pausing at the old familiar doorat the end of the hall, she knocked. There was a quick, light step. Thedoor opened and Kathleen West fairly pounced upon her.

  "Look who's here! Look who's here!" she chanted triumphantly. The tall,fair girl in the lavender silk kimono, who reclined in the Morris chair,turned her head languidly, then gave a cry of delight.

  "You poor girl!" Grace embraced Patience affectionately. "Whatever isthe matter?"

  "Oh, just a cold," croaked Patience. "In the words of J. Elfreda, 'I'm alittle horse.'" Her blue eyes twinkled. "It's worth being sick to haveyou here, Grace."

  "I've been intending to come over every night this week, but I'm sobusy," sighed Grace. "The Service Bureau keeps me hustling."

  "What a progressive lot of people you Harlowites are," praised Kathleen."Did you know that Mary is doing a story about you and your family forour paper. Of course there are no names mentioned. I saw to that."Kathleen flushed. She recalled a time when she had used Grace's namewithout permission.

  "Yes, I know about it," smiled Grace, "and I know that no names arementioned."

  Kathleen's color heightened. Then she remarked: "By the way, that MissBrent must have realized a nice sum of money from her sale. When did shehave it, Grace? We didn't hear a word of it. It must have been a veryselect affair. I'm sorry I didn't know of it, for I wanted to buy anevening dress. Rita Harris bought a beauty. Tell us about this latestacquisition to Harlowe House. How does she happen to have such wonderfulclothes, and why didn't she go to work for the Service Bureau instead ofselling them? I'm fairly buzzing with curiosity."

  Grace viewed Kathleen in amazement. "I don't understand you, Kathleen,"she said, in a perplexed tone. "I have heard nothing of a sale."

  "But Miss Brent held it at Harlowe House a week ago last Saturday,"persisted Kathleen. "It is evident she didn't wish you to know it or youwould have been there, too."

  Grace's amazed expression changed to one of vexed concern. She nowunderstood. "One week ago last Saturday I was in New York City," shesaid soberly. "Until this moment I knew nothing of any such sale. Infact I had objected to the plan when Miss Brent proposed it to me. Ifshe had wished to dispose of certain of her personal belongings to anyone girl I should have said unhesitatingly that it was her own affair,but a general sale is a different matter. The eyes of the college are,to a great extent, directed toward Harlowe House. It's position amongthe other campus houses is unique. That the girls who live there aregiven a home free of charge makes them doubly liable to criticism. Theymust be worthy of their privileges."

  Kathleen nodded in emphatic agreement. "Of course they must. Iunderstand fully your position in regard to them, Grace."

  "You mean the girl we met that day at Vinton's, don't you?" inquiredPatience. "She had been robbed of her money in the train."

  "Yes; she is the very girl."

  "How do you reconcile her lack of means to pay her college expenses withthis wonderful wardrobe that Kathleen has just told us of?"

  "I don't reconcile them. I can't. That is just the trouble." Gracelooked worried. "Speaking in strict confidence, I have really taken MissBrent on trust. I have asked her to explain certain things to me, andshe has refused to do so. On the other hand she is warmly championed bythe principal of one of the most select preparatory schools in thecountry. Then, too, she assures me that at some future day she willexplain everything. Emma calls her the Riddle. It's an appropriate name,too." Grace made a little despairing gesture.

  "You are the greatest advocate of the motto, 'Live and let live' that Ihave ever run across, Grace," smiled Patience, "but," her face grewserious, "I believe you ought to insist on Miss Brent's full explanationof her mysterious ways. If the news of this sale happens to reachfaculty ears _you_ are likely to be criticized for allowing it."

  "But I didn't allow it," protested Grace. "I refused my consent to it."

  "Yet you are the last one to defend yourself at another's expense,"reminded Kathleen. "You'd rather be misjudged than to see this girl, whohasn't even trusted you, placed in an unpleasant position."

  Grace's color deepened. "I promised to trust her," she said at last. "Atfirst I felt just as you do about this. Then I talked with her. Sheseemed honest and sincere. I decided that perhaps it would be better notto force her confidence. Young girls are often likely to make mountainsof mole-hills. Still, Emma thinks just as you do," she added. "Shedidn't at first, but she does now. I'm sure _she_ knows nothing of thesale. She would have told me."

  "I just happened to remember," began Kathleen, her straight brows drawntogether in a scowl, "that Evelyn Ward rooms with Miss Brent. Evelynmust have known of the sale. Do you mind, if I ask her about it?"

  "Ask her if you like." Grace spoke wearily. Everything was surely goingwrong to-day. She had intended to tell Patience and Kathleen about hertrip to New York. She had visited Anne and the Southards and spent twodelightful days. After what she had heard she felt that there wasnothing to say. "I must go," she announced abruptly. "I'll come againto-morrow to see you, Patience. A speedy recovery to you. Come and seeme, both of you, whenever you can. By the way, I met Miss Wharton, thenew dean, this morning."

  "What is she like?" asked Kathleen.

  "I can hardly tell you. She is different from Miss Wilder. I saw heronly for a moment. She seems distant. Still one can't judge by firstappearances. I must go. Good-bye, girls."

  Grace left her friends rather hurriedly. She was ready to cry. Therevelations of the morning had been almost too much for her. It was hardindeed to be snubbed, but it was harder still to be deceived. "It's allin the day's work," she whispered, over and over again, as she crossedthe campus. "I must be brave and accept what comes. It's all in theday's work."