At the door a halt was called.
"Prepare to jump," commanded Grace in a deep voice. "One, two, three! Jump down! Be careful!"
The four candidates gave four uncertain jumps and experienced the disagreeable sensation usually felt in attempting to jump downward when on level ground. This was one of the oldest and mildest forms of initiation, but Nora had insisted upon it, and giggled violently as the four girls prepared for a long leap. Even Grace, who was conducting the ceremony with the utmost seriousness, laughed a little at the picture they made.
"They'll do anything you tell them," whispered Nora. Which was perfectly true. To show fear or reluctance in obeying the demands made upon one, was to prove one's self unworthy of membership in the Phi Sigma Tau.
"Let the music begin," said Grace.
There was a faint snicker as Anne, Nora and Jessica raised three combs, wrapped in tissue paper, to their lips and began the "Merry Widow" waltz, with weird effect.
"You must waltz around the room fifteen times without stopping," continued Grace, "and then sit down in the four opposite corners of the room, on the cushions provided for you."
The girl chums retreated to the doorway of the room, that had previously been cleared of almost all the furniture, to watch the movements of their victims as they endeavored to circle the room the required number of times. They lost their count, bumped each other at every turn, and at last staggered dizzily toward what they thoughtwerethe corners of the room. Miriam Nesbit made straight for the door in which the chums stood, and Grace was obliged to take her by the shoulders and gently steer her in the opposite direction. Eleanor, after groping along one side of the room for a corner, was the first to find one, and sank with a sigh of relief upon the pile of cushions. The other girls had not been so successful. They all endeavored to sit in the same corner at once, and Grace was obliged to go to the rescue, and lead two of them to opposite sides of the initiation chamber.
"In order to become successful members of this society, it is necessary for you to sing. You may all sing the first verse and the chorus of any song you know, only be sure that you don't choose the same song, and don't stop until youhave finished," directed Grace. "Begin after I have counted three. I will wait for a minute while you choose your song. The orchestra will accompany you."
There was considerable subdued laughter from the orchestra, who had been instructed to play "The Star Spangled Banner," oblivious of whatever the candidates might sing.
"One, two, three!" counted Grace, and the concert began.
Eva Allen chose "John Brown's Body." Miriam Nesbit, "Old Kentucky Home." Marian Barber, "Schooldays," while Eleanor contributed "The Marseillaise" in French. The orchestra dutifully burst forth with "The Star Spangled Banner," and the effect was indescribable.
The orchestra broke down before they reached their chorus, and the accompaniment ended in a shriek of suppressed mirth, but the candidates went stolidly on without a smile and finished almost together.
"Very well done," commended Grace. "I see you will be valuable additions to the society."
The girls were then put through a series of ridiculous tests that the four chums had devised. They were made to dip their hands in water charged with electricity, caress a mechanical rubber snake that wriggled realistically, drink a cup of boneset tea apiece, and were directed finally to bare their arms for the branding of the letters of the society.
The branding was done with a piece of ice, pressed hard against their bare arms, and the shock made the victims gasp for a second and wonder if they really were being burned.
"You will now hold up your right hands and repeat after me," said Grace, "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute my duties as a member of the Phi Sigma Tau, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend its laws."
This done, the girls received the grip of the society, the handkerchiefs were removed from their eyes and they were pronounced full-fledged members.
"That oath has a rather familiar sound," remarked Miriam Nesbit, trying to recollect where she had heard it before.
"I know," she said at last. "It's the oath of office taken by the President of the United States at inauguration, only you changed it to suit this sorority."
"You've guessed it exactly," replied Grace. "I chose it because it sounded so much more expressive than to say, 'May my bones be crushed and my heart cut out if ever I am unfaithful to my vows.'"
There was a general laugh at this, the girls agreeing that Grace's choice was infinitely less blood-thirsty.
"Now that you have so bravely endured the trials of initiation, you shall receive your reward," declared Jessica. "Follow me."
She led the way to the dining room, where a bountiful lunch awaited them, to which, after the manner of hungry school girls, they did full justice.
"By the way," said Grace, after they had returned to the sitting room and were comfortably settled, "you never said one word about my freshman prize girl. I thought you would be awfully interested in her. For the benefit of the new members, I will say that this society was organized with a definite object, that of helping others. We are to look after girls who have no one to make things pleasant or happy for them. Why, do you know that there are quite a number of girls attending High School who come from other places, and who have to spend the holidays at their boarding houses without any fun at all? Look at this poor, little Allison girl. She works for her board in the winter, and in the mill in the summer, and now that miserable Miss Brant is going to take her out of school, and she is getting along so well, too."
"Isn't it a pity," said Anne, "that people like her can't understand that if a girl were allowed to finish her education, she could earn so much more in the long run than she could by working year after year in a mill?"
"We might go to Miss Brant and explain that to her," said Nora. "Perhaps she would listen to us."
"I don't believe so," replied Grace. "Besides, she might be very angry and take her spite out on poor Mabel. If we could only get Mabel away from her. But if she has legally adopted her we couldn't do anything. Besides, where would she go if we did get her away?"
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Jessica thoughtfully. "I'll ask papa about it. Lawyers always know everything about such things. Maybe he could find out if Miss Brant has any real claim upon her."
"That's a good idea," said Miriam Nesbit. "If we can get her away from that hateful old wretch, the sorority could adopt her. She could stay with each one of us for a month. That would be eight months, and at the end of that time she would have finished her sophomore year. Then she could get something pleasant to do through the summer vacation. That would give her some money for clothes for next year. Perhaps by that time we couldfind some nice people for her to stay with, or if we liked her well enough, we could go on having her with us. I'll ask my mother to-morrow, and you girls might do the same."
"Miriam Nesbit, what a perfectly lovely plan!" exclaimed Grace Harlowe with rapture. "I feel sure mother would let me have her."
"She can come here any time," said Jessica. "Papa allows me to do as I like."
"'First catch your bird,'" said Nora wisely. "Don't plan too much, until you find out whether you can snatch her from the dragon's claws."
"I feel sure we shall win," replied Grace confidently. "What do you girls think of it?" she asked, turning to Eva, Marian and Eleanor, who had so far expressed no opinion.
"Count us in," said Eva and Marian in a breath.
"And you, Eleanor?" asked Grace.
"She can live at our house forever, if she doesn't disturb me," replied Eleanor lazily. "My aunt won't care, either. When we lived in Spain she used to help every beggar we came across, and Spain is a land of beggars. She never can resist an appeal for charity."
There was a sudden silence. Then Grace said gently, although she felt irritated at Eleanor's careless speech: "I don't think Mabel Allisoncould really be called a beggar; and if we adopt her, we ought never to let her think that we consider her a dependent. Of course we know very little about her yet, but I think she will prove worthy. I am to see her to-morrow, and perhaps it would be better to talk a little more with her before we tell Jessica's father about it."
Eleanor looked at Grace with an amused smile.
"How serious you girls are," she said. "Is it school that makes you so? If it is, I don't think I shall stay long. I like to drift along and do only what my inclination prompts me to do. I hate responsibility of any sort."
"Perhaps you will feel differently about school after a while," said Anne quietly. "This is my third year in Oakdale High School, and I never had any good times until I came here. As for responsibility, it is a good thing to learn to be responsible for one's self, if for no one else."
"Well, perhaps you are right, but I am sure that if you had never lived long enough in one country to become acclimated, you wouldn't feel very responsible, either," said Eleanor in such rueful tones that the girls laughed, although they secretly disapproved of Eleanor's inconsequential attitude.
"Did you think the examinations hard?" asked Jessica of Eleanor.
"Oh, no," replied Eleanor lightly. "I had an English governess who was with us for five years. She drilled me thoroughly in English and mathematics. I loathed them both, but studied them merely to show her that I could master them. Miss Thompson said my work was good, and that if I were ambitious she would put me in the senior class, but I held out for the juniors and finally got my own way. If you are going to take such a serious view of this gay world, however, perhaps I'll wish I had joined the seniors, after all. No, I don't mean that. I'm awfully glad to know you, and feel honored at being a member of your sorority. Only I don't expect to ever be a very useful one. My aunt has spoiled me, and I frankly admit it. So, you see, there is no hope for me." She spread out both hands in a deprecating manner and shrugged her shoulders exactly as a French woman might have done.
"I am sure we like you, just as you are," said Eva Allen warmly. She had been rather impressed with Eleanor.
"Do you see the time?" said Nora, suddenly pointing to the old-fashioned clock in the corner. "Half past ten! I must go this minute. Sister will be worried."
She immediately made for her hat and coat, the others following suit, with the exception of Eleanor, who was to wait until the coachman came for her.
Once the girls were outside the gate, Marian Barber broke out with: "What a queer girl that Eleanor Savell is. She is beautiful and fascinating, but I don't know whether I like her or not."
"You must like her," said Grace. "You know the members of this society must stand by each other."
"But why did you ask her to join, Grace?" persisted Marian. "She is different from the rest of us. I don't believe we shall get along with her very well."
"I'll tell you girls a secret," replied Grace. "Anne and Nora already know it. Mrs. Gray wants us to be nice to Eleanor for a number of reasons, and, of course, we wish to please her. Anne, Jessica, Nora and I were talking about it the other day, and while we were laying plans for this sorority, we decided to ask Eleanor to join. We thought we could learn to know her better, and she would eventually become a good comrade."
"It sounds ridiculous to talk about helping a clever girl like Eleanor, but from her conversation to-night you can see that she needs somewholesome advice occasionally," said Nora bluntly. "Mrs. Gray seems to think we can be of some use in that direction, so we are trying to carry out her theory."
"I think I understand the situation," said Miriam Nesbit, "and will do all I can to be nice to her, if she doesn't attempt to patronize me. I couldn't stand that. I know I used to do it. I suppose that's why it seems so unendurable to me now."
"David Nesbit didn't disturb us, after all," remarked Eva Allen. "It's a wonder those boys didn't put tick-tacks on the windows or do something like that."
The girls had come to the turn of the street, and were about to pass the only really lonely spot during their walk. It was an old colonial residence, the surrounding grounds extending for a block. It had been untenanted for some time, as the owners were in Europe, although both house and grounds were looked after by a care-taker. On the other side of the street was a field where the small fry of Oakdale usually held their ball games.
"I always hate passing this old house," said Marian Barber. "It is so terribly still back there among those pines. I don't——"
She stopped short, an expression of terror overspreading her good-natured face, as shemutely pointed toward the old house. Three ghostly figures swathed in white stole out from the shadow of the pines and glided down the wide, graveled drive toward the gate. Their appearance was terrifying. Their faces were white as their robes, and blue flames played about their eyes. They carried out in every particular the description of the regulation churchyard ghost.
For an instant the six girls stood still, regarding those strange apparitions with fascinated terror. Then Eva Allen and Marian Barber shrieked in unison and fled down the street as fast as their legs would carry them. Grace, Nora, Anne and Miriam stood their ground and awaited the oncoming spectres, who halted when they saw that the girls did not intend to run.
"High School boys, on a lark," whispered Grace to her friends. "Let's charge them in a body."
With a bound she reached the drive, closely followed by the other girls. The ghostly three evidently considering discretion the better part of valor, left the drive and took to their heels across the lawn. But Grace, who was well in the lead, caught the last fleeing ghost by its robe and held on for dear life. There was a sound of rending cloth as the apparitionbounded forward, then it caught its spectre toe on a tuft of long grass and fell forward with a decidedly human thud.
The girls surrounded it in an instant. Before it had time to rise, Grace snatched off a white mask smeared around the eye-holes with phosphorus, which explained the flamelike effect, and disclosed the sheepish face of James Gardiner, one of the sophomore class.
"Oh, let a fellow up, will you?" he said, with a sickly grin.
"You bad boy!" exclaimed Grace. "What do you mean by dressing up like this? Don't you know you might frighten some timid person terribly?"
"Initiation," said the youth, with a grin, rising on his elbow and looking as though he would like to make a sudden break for liberty. "Part of the sacred obligations of the 'Knights and Squires' frat. Three fellows of us were initiated to-night. This was the last stunt."
"Well, I suppose under those circumstances we shall have to forgive you. Did you appear to any one else?" asked Grace.
"Only to that old crank Miss Brant. She was scared out of her wits," replied James, laughing. "Two of your crowd got out in a hurry, too, didn't they?"
"I suppose I shall have to confess that theydid," replied Grace. "If I were you, James, I'd take off that costume and hurry away. Miss Brant is liable to inform the police, and they might not look at initiation stunts as we do."
"That's right," said James, looking a trifle alarmed. "Wonder where the fellows went. I'd better put them on. We never thought of that. If you girls will excuse me, I'll hunt them up."
"Certainly," said the girls. "Good night, James."
"Good night," replied the youth. "You girls are all right. Can't scare you." With a nod to them he started across the grass on the run, his ghostly garments trailing behind him.
"I'm glad that wasn't David," said Anne as James disappeared. "I was afraid when first I saw them that they might be our boys. I didn't feel frightened at all, after what Grace had said about meeting David."
"Eva and Marian didn't show any great amount of courage," said Nora, laughing. "I wonder if they ran all the way home."
"There they are ahead of us," said Anne.
True enough, the two girls stood on the corner waiting for the others to come up.
"Why don't you hurry on home?" called Nora. "'The goblins will git you, ef you don't watch out.'"
"Don't tease," said Marian Barber, looking rather foolish. "We are awfully sorry we ran away, but when I saw those awful white figures coming toward us, I just had to run and so did Eva. Who on earth were they, and where did they go?"
In a few words Grace told her what had happened.
"That horrid James Gardiner. I'll never speak to him again," cried Eva Allen. "I hope he didn't recognize us. He'll tell every one in school about it."
"I don't think he did," replied Grace. "Oh, look, girls! Here comes Officer Donavan! I was right when I said that Miss Brant would notify the police."
"I hope she got a good scare," remarked Nora wickedly. "As for the ghosts, they are very likely at home by this time."
The next day, when Grace, in company with her chums, left the school building, they beheld the shabby little figure of Mabel Allison waiting for them just outside the campus. She looked shy and embarrassed when she saw the four girls bearing down upon her, and seemed half inclined to run away. Grace greeted her cordially and introduced her to her chums, whose simple and unaffected manners soon put her at her ease.
"I am so glad you waited," said Grace cordially. "I have told my three friends about you, as I knew they would be as much interested in you as I am. We have made a plan and if we can carry it out, you will be able to go to school until you graduate."
"You are very good to take so much trouble for me," said Mabel, the tears springing to her eyes; "but I'm afraid it won't do any good."
"Don't be down-hearted," said Nora sympathetically. "You don't know Grace Harlowe. She always does whatever she sets out to do."
"She's a regular fairy godmother," said Anne softly. "I know from experience."
"Such flattery is overwhelming," murmured Grace. "I regret that I'm too busy to bow my thanks. But to get down to the business of the hour—tell me, Mabel, dear—did this Miss Brant legally adopt you when she took you from the orphanage, or are you bound to her in any way?"
"I don't know," said the girl, her eyes growing big with wonder. "I never thought about it. I don't believe, however, that she has any legal claim upon me."
"Is there any way in which you can find out?" asked Anne.
"Why, yes," replied Mabel. "I could write the woman at the orphanage who was good to me. She is still there, and several times she has written to me, but Miss Brant read her letters first and then tore them up. Her name is Mary Stevens, and she would surely know!"
"Then write to her at once," said Grace, "and tell her to send her letter in an outside envelope addressed to me. Your whole future depends upon her answer."
Grace thereupon related to her their conversation of the previous night.
"As soon as you find out about Miss Brant's claim, we shall take the matter to Jessica's father, who is a lawyer. He will help us," Grace concluded. "Then when you are free,we shall have something else to tell you. Just be patient for a few days, and don't be afraid. Everything will come right."
"How can I ever thank you all?" said Mabel, taking one of Grace's hands between hers and looking at her with a world of gratitude in her eyes. "I will write to-night. I must go now or I shall be home late. Forgive me for hurrying away, but I daren't stay," she added piteously. "You know that I should like to. Good-bye, and thank you again."
"Good-bye," called Grace. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear from Mary Stevens."
"What a sweet little girl she is," said Jessica. "I should like to keep her with me all the time."
"She is a nice child," said Grace, "and she deserves something better than her present fate."
"To change the subject," said Nora, "has any one seen Eleanor to-day? She was not in English or geometry, although she may have come in late."
"I don't believe she was in school at all," said Anne. "Maybe the initiation was too much for her."
"Oh, I don't know. She didn't seem to mind it," remarked Jessica. "She will hear from Miss Thompson if she makes a practice of staying out of school. Attendance is one of the chief requisites in Miss Thompson's eyes."
"I suppose we ought to call on Eleanor before long," mused Grace. "She has invited us, and it's our duty to call on her first. Anne has already been there. Suppose we go over now; that is, unless you girls have something else to do."
It was decided at once that they could go, and soon the four chums were walking briskly down the street in the direction of "Heartsease." It was an Indian summer day and the girls congratulated themselves on having taken advantage of it. As school had closed at half past two, it was not yet four o'clock. They would have plenty of time for their call without hurrying themselves. So they strolled along, laughing and chatting in the care-free manner that belongs alone to the school girl.
As they neared the house one and all exclaimed at the beauty of the grounds. The lawn looked like a great stretch of green velvet, while the trees were gorgeous in their autumn glory of crimson and gold, with here and there a patch of russet by way of contrast. Over at one side were clumps of pink and white anemones; while all around the house and in the garden beds that dotted the lawn many-colored chrysanthemums stood up in brave array.
"What a delightful place 'Heartsease' is," cried Grace as she paused just inside the gate to feast her eyes upon its beauty. "Sometimes I think that autumn is the finest season of the year, and then again I like spring better."
"What difference does the season make, so long as we have a good time?" said Nora blithely. "I haven't any preference. They're all good."
"Eleanor will be surprised to see us," remarked Grace, as she rang the bell.
"Let's hope she will appreciate the honor of having four such distinguished persons descend upon her at one time," said Anne.
"Is Miss Savell in?" asked Grace to the trim maid who answered her ring.
"Yes, miss," replied the maid. "Come in. Who shall I say is here?"
"Say to Miss Savell that Grace Harlowe and her friends would like to see her."
The maid soon reappeared and led the girls down the wide, old-fashioned hall, and, somewhat to their surprise, ushered them into the dining room, where they beheld Eleanor, arrayed in a dainty white house gown, dining alone.
She arose as they entered and came forward with both hands outstretched. "How are the Phi Sigma Taus to-day?" she asked. "It was awfully nice of you to come and see me."
"We thought you might be ill," said Nora. "We missed you at school to-day."
"Oh, no," replied Eleanor serenely. "I am perfectly well. I really didn't feel like going to school to-day, so I stayed in bed until eleven o'clock. I am just having lunch now. Won't you join me? I am keeping house by myself this afternoon. My aunt is dining with Mrs. Gray."
"Thank you," said Grace, speaking for the girls. "We all have supper at half past six and must save our appetites for that."
"We usually dine about eight o'clock," said Eleanor. "We acquired the habit of dining late from living on the continent. But, come, now. I have finished my lunch. I want you to see where I live, almost entirely, when in the house."
The girls followed her up the broad staircase and down the hall. Every inch of the ground was familiar to Grace. She had been there so often with Mrs. Gray. "Oh, you have the suite at the back," she exclaimed. "I love those two rooms."
"You will find them somewhat changed," remarked Eleanor as she opened the door and ushered the girls into the most quietly luxurious apartment they had ever seen. Even Miriam Nesbit's room could not compare with it.
"What a beautiful room!" exclaimed Grace, looking about her with delight. "I don't wonder you like to spend your time in it. I see you have your own piano."
"Yes," replied Eleanor. "My aunt sent to New York for it. The one downstairs in the drawing room is all right, but I like to have this one handy, so that I can play whenever the spirit moves me. This is my bedroom," she continued, pushing aside the silken curtains that separated the two rooms. The girls exclaimed over the Circassian walnut furniture and could not decide as to which room was the prettier.
"Eleanor," said Grace solemnly, "you ought to be a very happy girl. You have everythingaheart can wish. Think of poor little Mabel Allison."
"Oh, don't let's think about disagreeable things," said Eleanor lightly. "Sit down and be comfy and I'll play for you. What shall I play?"
"Do you know the 'Peer Gynt' suite?" asked Grace. "I love 'Anitra's Dance.'"
Without answering, Eleanor immediately began the "Peer Gynt" music and played the entire suite with remarkable expression.
"How well you play!" exclaimed Jessica with eager admiration in her voice, as Eleanor turnedaround on the stool after she had finished. "I should love to hear you play on the violin. Anne heard you the other night, and told us about it."
"I love the violin better than the piano, but it sounds better with a piano accompaniment. Don't you girls play?"
"Jessica does," chorused her friends.
"Oh, I never could play, after hearing Eleanor," said Jessica blushing.
"Come on," said Eleanor, taking her by the arm and dragging her over to the piano. "You can accompany me. What do you play?"
"Do you know Raff's 'Cavatina'?" asked Jessica a trifle shyly.
"By heart," answered Eleanor. "I love it. Wait and I'll get the music for you."
After a moment's search she produced the music, picked up her violin, and, after tightening a string, announced herself ready.
The girls listened, spellbound. It seemed as though Eleanor's very soul had entered into the violin. They could not believe that this was the capricious Eleanor of half an hour before.
"Whatever she may do in future," thought Grace, as she listened to the last plaintive notes of the "Cavatina," "I'll forgive her for her music's sake. One has to make allowances forpeople like her. It is the claim of the artistic temperament."
"Please play once more," begged Nora. "Then we must go. It's almost six o'clock."
Eleanor chose Nevin's "Venetian Love Song," and Jessica again accompanied her.
"You play with considerable expression," said Eleanor, as Jessica rose from the piano stool.
"How could I help it?" replied Jessica, smiling. "You inspired me."
Eleanor accompanied the four girls down the walk to the gate and repeatedly invited them to come again.
"It's your turn to come and see us now," said Grace. "Do you think you will go to school to-morrow, Eleanor? Miss Thompson dislikes having the girls stay out."
"I can't help what Miss Thompson dislikes," returned Eleanor, laughing. "What I dislike is of more importance to me. I dare say I shall go to-morrow, providing I get up in time."
"What an irresponsible girl Eleanor is," remarked Anne, as they walked along. "I am afraid we can't do much for her. She doesn't seem much interested in school and I don't think she is particularly impressed with our sorority."
"Anne," said Jessica, "you have seen Miss Nevin, her aunt. Tell us how she looks."
"She is tall," replied Anne, "and has beautiful dark eyes. Her hair is very white, but her face looks young, only she has the saddest expression I ever saw on any one's face."
"I should think she would look sad after seventeen years of Eleanor's whims," remarked Nora bluntly. "It would wear me out to be with her continually, she is so changeable."
"Mrs. Gray told me," remarked Anne, "that Miss Nevin's life had been one long sacrifice to the pleasure of others. First her father, then her step-sister and now Eleanor. She was engaged to be married to a young English officer, and he died of fever while stationed in India. So, there is reason for her sad expression."
"I once read, somewhere," said Jessica sentimentally, "that ''Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'"
"Humph!" said Nora. "If I am ever foolish enough to fall in love, I certainly don't want to lose the object of my devotion."
"You can't very well," said Grace slyly, "for from all present indications I should say that he is too fat to get lost."
And Nora was obliged to explain elaborately to the laughing girls, all the way home, that the object of her future devotion would not be a fat man.
When Eleanor returned to school the following morning, she found that what Miss Thompson "disliked" was, after all, of considerable importance. Directly after opening exercises the principal sent for her and asked the reason for her absence of the day before. On finding that Eleanor had no plausible excuse, but had absented herself merely because she felt like it, Miss Thompson thereupon delivered a sharp little lecture on unnecessary absence, informing Eleanor that it was the rule of the school to present a written excuse for absence, and that a verbal excuse would not be accepted.
"I will overlook it this time, Miss Savell," Miss Thompson said, "because you are not as yet thoroughly acquainted with the rules of this school, but do not let it occur again. And I must also insist upon punctuality in future. You have been late a number of times."
With these words the principal turned to her desk and resumed the writing she had been engaged in when Eleanor entered.
For a second, Eleanor stood regarding MissThompson with angry eyes. No one had ever before dared to speak sharply to her. She was about to tell the principal that she was not used to being addressed in that tone, but the words would not come. Something in the elder woman's quiet, resolute face as she sat writing checked the wilful girl, and though she felt deeply incensed at the reprimand, she managed to control herself and walked out of the office with her head held high, vowing to herself that Miss Thompson should pay for what Eleanor termed "her insolence."
All morning she sulked through her classes, and before closing time had managed to incur the displeasure of every teacher to whom she recited.
"What ails her to-day?" whispered Nora to Jessica.
It was geometry hour, and Miss Ames, the geometry teacher, had just reproved Eleanor for inattention.
Nora shook her head. She dared not answer, as Miss Ames was very strict, and she knew that to be caught whispering meant two originals to work out, and Nora hated originals.
When the bell rang at the close of the hour, Eleanor walked haughtily by Miss Ames, giving her a contemptuous look as she passed that made the teacher tighten her lips and look severe. Grace, who was directly behind her, saw both the look and the expression on the teacher's face. She felt worried for Eleanor's sake, because she saw trouble ahead for her unless she changed her tactics. If Eleanor could only understand that she must respect the authority of her various teachers during recitation hours and cheerfully comply with their requests, then all might be well. Since Miss Leece had left the High School at the close of Grace's freshman year, she could not conscientiously say that she disliked any of her teachers. They had been both kind and just, and if Eleanor defied them openly, then she would have to take the consequences. To be sure, Eleanor might refuse to go to school, but Grace had an idea that, lenient as Miss Nevin was with her niece, she would not allow Eleanor to go that far. Grace decided that she would have a talk with Eleanor after school. It would do no harm and it might possibly do some good.
She hurried down to the locker-room that afternoon in order to catch Eleanor as she left school. She had just reached there when Eleanor walked in, looking extremely sulky. She jerked her hat and coat from her locker, hastily donned them, and, without looking at Grace, left the room.
"She looks awfully cross," thought Grace."Well, here goes," and she hurried after Eleanor, overtaking her at the entrance to the school grounds.
"What's the matter, Eleanor?" she asked. "Didn't you care to wait for me?"
Eleanor looked at her with lowering brows. "I hate school," she said vehemently. "I hate the teachers, and I hate Miss Thompson most of all. Every one of those teachers are common, low-bred and impertinent. As for your Miss Thompson, she is a self-satisfied prig."
"You must not say such things of Miss Thompson, Eleanor," said Grace firmly. "She doesn't deserve them. She is one of the finest women I have ever known, and she takes a warm interest in every girl in school. What has she done that you should speak of her as you do?"
"She called me into her office this morning and made a whole lot of fuss because I didn't have a written excuse for yesterday's absence," said Eleanor angrily. "When I told her that I stayed at home because I felt inclined to do so, she almost had a spasm, and gave me another lecture then and there, ending up by saying that it must not occur again. I should like to know how she knew I was absent yesterday."
"Miss Thompson always knows when a girl is absent," replied Grace. "The special teachers report to her every day. It is the rule ofthis school for a girl to present her excuse at the office as soon as she returns; then her name is taken off the absent list. If she is absent the second day, then a messenger is sent to her home to find out the cause. I suppose that when Miss Thompson looked over the list, she remembered seeing you at opening exercises, so of course sent for you."
"She is a crabbed old maid," said Eleanor contemptuously, "and I despise her. I'll find some way to get even with her, and all the rest of those teachers, too."
"You will never get along in school, Eleanor," answered Grace gently, "if you take that stand. The only way to be happy is to——"
"Please don't preach to me," said Eleanor haughtily. "It is of no use. I am not a child and I understand my own business thoroughly. When I saw you girls the first day of school, I thought that you were full of life and spirit, but really you are all goody-goodies, who allow those teachers to lead you around by the nose. I had intended to ask Aunt Margaret to take me out of this ridiculous school, for some of the people in it make me tired, but I have changed my mind. I shall stay for pure spite and show that stiff-necked principal of yours that I am a law unto myself, and won't stand her interference."
"Stop a moment, Eleanor. I am going no farther with you," said Grace, flushing, "but I should just like to say before I leave you that you are taking the wrong view of things, and you'll find it out sooner or later. I am sorry that you have such a poor opinion of myself and my friends, for we cherish nothing but the friendliest feelings toward you."
With this, Grace walked away, feeling more hurt over Eleanor's rudeness than she cared to show.
As she turned out of High School Street she heard a familiar call, and, glancing up the street, saw her three chums waiting for her on the corner.
"We saw you just as you tackled Eleanor," said Nora, "so we kept away, for we thought after to-day's performances she wouldn't be in a very good humor."
"What was the matter with her to-day?" asked Jessica curiously. "She behaved like a bad child in English this morning, followed it up in geometry; and Anne says that in rhetoric class Miss Chester lost all patience with her and gave her a severe lecturing."
"I might as well tell you at once that Eleanor's opinion of us is far from flattering," said Grace, half laughing, although there was a hurt look on her face. "She says we are all goody-goodies and that we make her tired. She also requested me to mind my own business."
"She said that to you? Just wait until the next time I see her," blustered Nora, "I'll tell her what I think of her."
"On the contrary, we must treat her better, if anything, than before," said Anne quietly. "Don't you remember we promised Mrs. Gray that we would try to help her?"
"Yes, I remember all that; but I can't bear to have any one say horrid things to Grace," grumbled Nora.
"What a queer girl she is," said Jessica. "Yesterday she treated us as though we were her dearest friends, while to-day she scorns us utterly. It's a case of 'blow hot, blow cold.'"
"That is because she has the artistic temperament," replied Anne, smiling.
"You may say what you like about the artistic temperament," said Nora, "but in my opinion it's nothing more nor less than just plain temper."
"The Phi Sigma Tau is to have a special meeting to-night at Jessica's," called Grace Harlowe to Nora O'Malley as the latter entered the locker-room at the close of school one day about two weeks after the initiation at Jessica's.
"Does Jessica know it?" inquired Nora.
"Not yet," replied Grace, "but she will as soon as she comes in. I rushed down here the minute the last bell rang, because I wanted to be here when the girls come in. You are the first, however."
"Why are we to hold a meeting?" asked Nora, her curiosity aroused.
"Wait and see," replied Grace, smiling. "Of what use is it to hold a meeting, if I tell you all the business beforehand?"
"All right," said Nora, "you keep your secrets and I'll keep mine."
"What have you heard that's new?" asked Grace.
"Wait and see," replied Nora, with a grin of delight. "I am saving my news for the meeting."
By this time the remaining members of the Phi Sigma Tau, with the exception of Eleanor Savell, had come into the locker-room, and had been promptly hailed by Grace. Marian Barber, Miriam Nesbit and Eva Allen after agreeing to be at Jessica's, at eight o'clock, had gone their separate ways.
"Every one excepting Eleanor has been told," said Grace. "I really don't know how to approach her. She has been so distant of late."
"Don't wait to ask her," said Nora decidedly. "She won't attend the meeting."
"How do you know?" asked Jessica.
"I'll tell you to-night," answered Nora mysteriously, "but I know positively that she won't come, because she is going to have company at 'Heartsease.' Now I've told you more than I intended to, and I shall not say another word until to-night."
"Come on then," said Grace, "we won't wait any longer. Jessica, will you ask your father if he will be at liberty for a few minutes this evening?"
"Certainly," replied Jessica.
"Oh, I know now whom it's all about," cried Nora gleefully. "Mary Stevens."
"You have guessed it," said Grace, "but, like yourself, I decline to talk until to-night."
Before eight o'clock the seven girls had taken possession of the Bright's big, comfortable sitting room and were impatiently waiting for Grace to tell her news.
"Before I tell you what is on my mind," said Grace, "we ought to have a president, vice president and secretary for this worthy organization. I move therefore that we choose Miriam Nesbit for president of this sorority. Those in favor say 'aye.' We'll dispense with seconding the motion."
There was an instant's pause, then a chorus of "ayes" burst forth.
"Contrary, 'no.'"
The only "no" was from Miriam.
"We appreciate the fact that you are too polite to vote for yourself, Miriam," said Grace, "but your 'no' doesn't amount to a row of pins. You're elected, so come over here and occupy the chair of state. Long live the president of the Phi Sigma Tau."
Miriam, flushed with pleasure, then took the seat that Grace had vacated. She had not expected this honor and was deeply touched by it. Her summer with her girl chums at Lake George had made her an entirely different girl from the Miriam of old. Admiration for Grace and her friends had taken the place of the old animosity. Although the chums had not takenher into their inner circle, still they made much of her, and she came nearer to being one of them than any other girl in the junior class.
"I am sure I thank you all," began Miriam, "and now we must have a vice president and a secretary."
Grace and Anne were elected with enthusiasm to the respective offices, then Miriam requested Grace to tell the other members what was on her mind.
After addressing the chair, Grace began: "I know you will all be glad to hear that Mabel has received a letter from Mary Stevens. It was addressed to me on the outside envelope and Mabel has given me permission to open and read it to you. She is willing for us to do whatever we think best. I won't attempt to read all the letter, only that part that interests us.
"Here it is: 'I am so sorry about the way in which you are treated, but glad to know that you have found friends at last. Miss Brant has no claim on you whatever. She took you from the orphanage with the understanding that if you did not suit her she was to be allowed to send you back. The matron asked her why she did not adopt you, or at least appoint herself your guardian, and she said that under no circumstances would she do so; that shewanted a good maid of all work, not a daughter. I enclose a statement from the matron to this effect. I would have advised you before this to leave her, but you are too young to drift about the world alone. I hope that when I next hear from you, you will be in happier surroundings. I have always believed that your parents were people of means and that you were lost or stolen when a baby. Perhaps if they are still living you will find them some day.'"
"That is about all we need," said Grace, as she folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. "The next thing to do is to see Mr. Bright."
"I'll go for him at once," said Jessica, and darted off to the library, where her father sat reading. He rose, and, tucking his daughter's arm in his, walked out to the sitting room, where the Phi Sigma Tau eagerly awaited him.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed, smiling at the circle of girls. "What's all this? Am I invited to be present at a suffragette's meeting or is Jessica simply anxious to show me what nice friends she has?"
"No compliments allowed," laughed Grace. "We wish to ask your advice about something."
"I am at your service," said Jessica's father, making her an elaborate bow. "Command me as you will."
"'Tis well, most reverend sir. I thank you," said Grace, with a curtsy. "Now sit you down, I pray, for presently I have a tale to tell."
Having conducted Mr. Bright with great ceremony to the arm chair in the corner, Grace established him with many low bows, much to the amusement of the girls, with whom Jessica's father was a great favorite. Then Grace began with her meeting with Mabel Allison and ended with the letter from Mary Stevens, enclosing the matron's statement.
"Now, those are all the facts of the case, Mr. Bright," she concluded. "Will it be possible for us to get Mabel away from Miss Brant, or can Miss Brant hold her against her will?"
"Miss Stevens' letter and the matron's statement are sufficient," answered Mr. Bright. "This woman cannot hold your little friend. Miss Brant will in all probability be very angry, and attempt to brave the matter out. Suppose you and Jessica and I go down there together, Grace, and see what we can do?"
"O Mr. Bright!" cried Grace, clasping her hands delightedly, "will you, truly? Then let's go to-morrow and bring Mabel back with us."
"Very well; you and Jessica meet me at my office at four o'clock to-morrow afternoon," said Mr. Bright. "But what do you girls intend to do with her, once you get her? You can't adopt her, you know."
"She is to take turns living with us, papa," said Jessica, slipping her hand into her father's. "May she come here first? I'd love to have her."
Mr. Bright drew Jessica to his side. "My dear child, you know that you may do as you please about it. I feel sure that she must be the right sort of girl, or you and your friends wouldn't have become interested in her. Try her, and if you like her, then she is welcome to stay as long as she chooses. I think it would do you good to have a girl of your own age in the house."
"Three cheers for Mr. Bright," cried Nora.
The cheers were given with a will, then the girls joined hands and danced around Jessica's father, sounding their class yell until he broke through the circle and made a rush for the library, his fingers to his ears.
"Now that we have that question settled," said Miriam Nesbit, after the girls were once more seated, "I think we ought to have a sorority pin."
"I think," began Eva Allen, "that my brother would design a pin for us. He is very clever at that sort of thing."
"Let's have a monogram," exclaimed Grace."Old English letters of gold on a dull-green enamel background. We can get them up for about two dollars and a half apiece. Is that too expensive?"
The girls, who, with the exception of Anne, had small allowances of their own, expressed themselves satisfied; while Anne determined that for once she was justified in yielding to wild extravagance.
"That's settled," said Miriam. "The next thing to do is——"
But a loud ring of the door bell interrupted her speech and caused the whole party to start.
"Some one to see papa," said Jessica. "Go on with what you were saying, Miriam."
But before Miriam had a chance to continue, the maid entered the room, a letter in her hand.
"Here's a letter, Miss Jessica," she said. "But it's such a quare name on the outside, I be wondering if it's fur yerself and no other?"
Jessica looked at the envelope. It was addressed to the "Phi Sigma Tau, care of Miss Jessica Bright."
"Why, who in the world can this be from? I thought no one outside knew the name of our society as yet," said Jessica as she opened the end of the envelope. Then she turned the page, glanced at the signature, and gave a little cry of surprise.
"Just listen to this, girls!" she exclaimed, and read: