"We each had a dotted Swiss this summer, made exactly alike, but Lucy is so much taller than I that her skirts trail on me. Just look how imposing!"
She swept across the floor and back to show the effect of her trail.
"Of course there was nothing to do at that late hour but pin it up in front and go ahead. I"m afraid every minute that I"ll trip and fall all over myself, but I do feel so dignified when I feel my train sweeping along behind me. The pins keep falling out all around the belt, and I can"t help stepping on the hem in front. I love trains," she added, switching hers forward with a grand air that was so childlike in its enjoyment that Lloyd felt impelled to hug her. "It gives you such a dressed-up, peac.o.c.ky feeling."
Then she looked up in her most soulful, intense way, as if she were asking for important information. "Do you know whether it"s true or not?
_Does_ a peac.o.c.k stop strutting if it happens to see its feet? My old nurse told me that, and said that it shows that pride always goes before a fall. I never was where they kept peac.o.c.ks before I came to Warwick Hall, and I"ve spent hours watching Madam"s to see if it is true. But they are always so busy strutting, I"ve never been able to catch them looking at their feet."
She glanced at her own feet as she spoke, then gasped and, covering her face with her hands, sank limply into a chair in the corner behind her.
"What"s the matter?" cried Juliet, alarmed by the sudden change.
"Look! Oh, just _look_!" was the hysterical answer, as she thrust out both feet, and sat pointing at them tragically, with fingers and thumbs of both hands outspread.
"No wonder they felt queer. I was so intent on getting my dress pinned up, and in rushing out in time to play, that I couldn"t take time to a.n.a.lyze my feelings and discover the cause of the queerness. Madeline blew in at a critical point to borrow a pin, and that threw me off, I suppose."
From under the white skirt protruded two feet as unlike as could well be imagined. One was cased in dainty white kid, the other in an old red felt bedroom slipper, edged with black fur.
"And it would have been all the same," sighed Gay, "if I had been going to an inaugural ball to hobn.o.b with crowned heads. And I had hoped to make _such_ a fine impression on the Little Colonel," she added, in a plaintive tone, with a childlike lifting of the face that Lloyd thought most charming.
If the mistake had been made by any other girl in the school, it would not have seemed half so ridiculous, but whatever Gay did was irresistibly funny. A laughing crowd gathered around her, as she sat with the red slipper and the white one stretched stiffly out in front of her, bewailing her fate.
"Anyhow," she remarked, "I"ll always have the satisfaction of knowing that I put my best foot foremost, and if they had been alike I couldn"t have done that. Now could I?" And the girls laughed again, because it was Gay who said it in her own inimitable way, and because the old felt slipper looked so ridiculous thrust out from under the dainty white gown. As others came crowding up to see what was causing so much merriment in that particular corner, Gay attempted to slip out and go to her room to correct her mistake. But Sybil Green, pushing through the outer ring, came up with Allison and Kitty.
"Gay," she began, "here are the girls that you especially wanted to meet: General Walton"s daughters."
Gay"s face flushed with pleasure, and, forgetting her errand, she impulsively stretched out a hand to each, and held them while she talked.
"Oh, I"m so glad to meet you!" she cried. "I wish that I had known that you girls were here yesterday before papa left. He is Major Melville, and he was such a friend of your father"s. He was on that long Indian campaign with him in Arizona, and I"ve heard him talk of him by the hour. And last week"--here she lowered her voice so that only Allison and Kitty heard, and were thrilled by the sweet seriousness of it. "Last week he took me out to Arlington to carry a great wreath of laurel. When he"d laid it on the grave, he stood there with bared head, looking all around, and I heard him say, in a whisper, "No one in all Arlington has won his laurels more bravely than you, my captain." You see it was as a captain that papa knew him best. He would have been so pleased to have seen you girls."
Kitty squeezed the hand that still held hers and answered, warmly: "Oh, you dear, I hope we"ll be as good friends as our fathers were!" And Allison answered, winking back the tears that had sprung to her eyes: "Thank you for telling us about the laurel. Mother will appreciate it so much."
While this conversation was going on at Lloyd"s elbow, Betty came up to her on the other side. "Please see if my dress is all right in the back," she whispered. "It feels as if it were unfastened." Then, as Lloyd a.s.sured her it was properly b.u.t.toned, she added, in an undertone: "Have you met Maud Minor? She"s one of the new girls."
Lloyd shook her head.
"Then I"m going to introduce you as soon as I can. She knows Malcolm MacIntyre."
"Knows Malcolm!" exclaimed Lloyd, in amazement. "Where on earth did she ever meet him?"
"At the seash.o.r.e last summer. She can"t talk about anything else. She thinks he is so handsome and has such beautiful manners and is so adorably romantic. Those are her very words. She has his picture.
Evidently he has talked to her about you, for she"s so curious to know you. She asked a string of questions that I thought were almost impertinent."
"Where is she?" asked Lloyd.
"There, that girl in white crossing the room with the fat one in lavender."
Lloyd gave a long, critical look, and then said, slowly: "She"s the prettiest girl in the room, and she makes me think of something I"ve read, but I can"t recall it."
"I know," said Betty, "but you"ll laugh at me if I say Tennyson again.
It"s from "Maud"--
""I kissed her slender hand.
She took the kiss sedately.
Maud is not seventeen, But she is tall and stately."
"But she is not as sedate as she looks," added Betty, truthfully. "I"d like her better if she didn"t gush. That"s the only word that will express it. And it seemed queer for her to take me into her confidence the minute she was introduced. Right away she gave me to understand that she"d had a sort of an affair with Malcolm. She didn"t say so in so many words, but she gave me the impression that he had been deeply interested in her, in a romantic way, you know."
Lloyd looked at Maud again, more critically this time, and with keener interest. Then her thoughts flew back to the churchyard stile where they had paused in their gathering of Christmas greens one winter day. For an instant she seemed to see the handsome boy looking down at her, begging a token of the Princess Winsome, and saying, in a low tone, "I"ll be whatever you want me to be, Lloyd."
Juliet"s voice broke in on her reverie. "Miss Sherman, allow me to present Miss Minor."
Maud was slightly taller than Lloyd, but it was not her extra inches alone which seemed to give her the air of looking down on every one. It was her patronizing manner. Lloyd resented it. Instinctively she drew herself up and responded somewhat haughtily.
"My dear, I"ve been simply _dying_ to meet you," began Maud, effusively.
"Ever since I found out that you were the girl Malcolm MacIntyre used to be so fond of."
Lloyd responded coldly, certain that Malcolm had not discussed their friendship in a way to warrant this outburst from a stranger.
"Do you know his brothah Keith, too?" she asked. "We"re devoted to both the boys. You might say we grew up togethah, for they visited in the Valley so much. We"ve been playmates since we were babies. You must meet the Walton girls. They are Malcolm"s cousins, you know."
Before Maud realized how it came about, Lloyd had graciously turned her over to Allison and Kitty, and made her escape with burning cheeks and a resentful feeling. Maud"s words kept repeating themselves: "So adorably romantic. The girl Malcolm _used to be_ so fond of!" They made her vaguely uncomfortable. She wondered why.
For another hour she went on making acquaintances and adding to her store of information about Warwick Hall. They couldn"t have chafing-dishes in their rooms, one frivolous soph.o.m.ore told her. The insurance companies objected after one girl spilled a bottle of alcohol and set fire to the curtains. But once a week those who pined for candy could make it over the gas-stove in the Domestic Science kitchen. Those who were too lazy to make it could buy it Monday afternoons from Mammy Easter, an old coloured woman who lived in a cabin on the place. She was famous for her pralines, the soph.o.m.ore declared. "We have jolly charades and impromptu tableaux up in the gymnasium sometimes. Oh, school at the Hall is one grand lark!"
"Don"t you believe it," said the spectacled junior who monopolized Lloyd next. "It"s a hard dig to keep up to the mark they set here. But I must say it is an agreeable kind of a dig," she added.
"It"s good just to wake up in the morning and know there"s going to be another whole day of it. The cla.s.ses are so interesting, and the teachers so interested in us, that they bring out the very best in everybody. Even a gra.s.shopper would have its ambition aroused if it stayed in this atmosphere long."
She peered at Lloyd through her gla.s.ses as if to satisfy herself that she would be understood, and then added, confidentially: "I can fairly feel myself grow here. I feel the way I imagine the morning-glories do when they find themselves climbing up the trellis. They just stretch out their hands and everything helps them up,--the sun and the soil, the wind and the dew. And here at Warwick Hall there"s so much to help. Even the little glimpses we get over the garden wall into the outside world of Washington, with its politics and great men. But those two people over there help me most of all." She nodded toward Madam Chartley and Miss Chilton, the teacher of English, who were now seated together on a sofa near the door.
"When I look at them I feel that the morning-glory vine must climb just as high as it possibly can, and shake out a wealth of bells in return for all that has been given toward its growth. Don"t you?"
"Yes," answered Lloyd, slightly embarra.s.sed by the soulful gaze turned on her through the spectacles. "Betty would enjoy knowing you," she exclaimed. "She is always saying and writing such things."
"Oh, I thought that you were the one that writes," answered the junior.
"Aren"t you the one the freshmen are going to elect cla.s.s editor for their page of the college paper?"
"No, indeed!" protested Lloyd, laughing at the idea. "Come across the room with me and I"ll find Betty for you."
"There won"t be time to-night," responded the junior, "for there goes the music that means good night. They always play "America" as a signal that it"s time to go."
"What makes you so quiet?" asked Betty, a little later, as they slowly undressed. She had chattered along, commenting on the events of the evening, ever since they came to their room, but Lloyd had seemed remarkably unresponsive.
"Oh, nothing," yawned Lloyd. "I was just thinking of that fairy-tale of the three weavers. I"ll turn out the light."
As she reached up to press the electric b.u.t.ton, she thought again, for the twentieth time, "I wonder what it was that Malcolm told Maud Minor."
Then she nestled down among the pillows, saying, sleepily, to herself: "Anyway, I"m mighty glad that I nevah gave him that curl he begged for."