CHAPTER IX
MYSTERIES, PREPARATIONS AND A "TRADE-LAST"
It was characteristic of Betty's rushing life, a life she loved, bythe way, that she should be whisked from Lucia's woes and theglimpse of life at the Murchison home to the problems of Doris, inher own well ordered home, and then to the pushing program ofschool, with the last Christmas preparations. Plenty of sleep atnight, on which Betty's parents insisted as a rule, gave Bettyenergy for every day's full program.
There is no time so full of joyous anticipations, merriment andhuman kindness as that just before Christmas. Temporarily Betty wasin charge of a Sunday school class of children, little girls whoseteacher was ill. These she was teaching Luke's beautiful Christmasstory and to sing out sweetly "It came upon the midnight clear, Thatglorious song of old," for they were to sing that in their Christmascelebration. Betty herself was to be an angel in the Christmaspageant at the church and had finally a minor part in the Christmasplay at the high school.
"Oh, yes, Carolyn," said she one morning at school, "having nothingto do, I thought I'd take on a few more things to practice for! Buthow can you refuse when it's all so lovely?"
There were pleasing mysteries at home, packages whisked out of theway and a pretense of not knowing what was perfectly obvious. Ofcourse, teachers had to give a few last tests to make life morecomplicated, but when Dick and Doris crossly complained of one Mrs.Lee called their attention to the fact that after all the main thingrequired of teachers was to have their pupils accomplish therequired work within certain time limits.
"Oh, I suppose they have to," Doris acknowledged, "but who feelslike studying now?"
And Betty, who always felt that she was expected to be an example,fully sympathized with both Dick and Doris, though her only responsewas a laugh and a few giddy gym steps performed in the dining roomjust before she left it to rush to school.
There was generous giving toward the Christmas baskets in Christmasweek. The teachers' room, to which contributions this time werebrought, had a corner full to overflowing with packages and cans.The Lyon "Y" basket for the adopted family would have to be a bushelbasket this time and more than a Christmas dinner would be provided.The display itself was a good reminder and advertisement of kindthings afoot. "Oh, yes; I almost forgot that I was to bring a littlesack of flour," one girl said; and a boy, who, naturally, did notbelong to the Lyon "Y" put his hand in his pocket to draw out aquarter and say, "Here, Betty Lee; aren't you president of thatcrowd?" as he waved his hand toward the heap of supplies. "Get somecandy for the kids. Got a quarter, Tom?" And thus Betty added twoquarters to the little fund of money. But she did not know that theboy who gave the first quarter had only ten cents left for hislunch. But ten cents would buy something and the feeling of havingdone something for some one else is a warming one.
This time Chet Dorrance, Chauncey Allen, Kathryn Allen and Betty Leewere the only ones who were on hand to deliver the Christmas basket."How'll we ever get everything upstairs?" laughingly asked Betty,viewing the car after everything was stowed away. "There won't beanybody to watch the car, for we'll all have to carry something."
"Don't worry till we get there, Betty," Chet advised. "You justleave all the carrying to Chauncey and me."
"Not a bit of it!" cried Kathryn. "We want to see those little Woodskiddies. Moreover, cars do lock, Betty."
"We know where to find them this time anyhow," said Betty.
Again the Allen car wound round the Lyon High drives out upon thewide thoroughfare, making its way down town and out to the districtwhose buildings and surroundings made it very clear that povertymarked its inhabitants.
The hall which the young people reached after climbing the twoflights of rickety stairs gave some evidence of having been cleanedand there was a rush to the door by young feet, they could hear,after the knock which Kathryn gave.
The door was flung open and grins of pleasure welcomed the highschool representatives. "We saw you come and Mother said we couldopen the door," said the eldest, her eyes big at the array of whathad been brought. "Oh, Mother, come! There's a bushel basket andlots of things!"
"Merry Christmas," said Betty, smiling at everybody, as she lookedpast the children at Mrs. Woods, who again appeared with a sleepybaby that she placed upon the bed. The room, in expectation of theguests, had been cleaned as carefully as possible and Mrs. Woodslooked as if there was some hope in living now. She was being helpedover the hard place.
"No, thanks, we can't stay," continued Betty, at the invitation tocome in. "We have to get back." With this she handed Mrs. Woods thesmall basket she carried and Kathryn put into the hands of the oldergirl a package she was holding. Chet and Chauncey lugged in thebushel basket. "Don't let the children see what's in the _little_basket till Christmas morning, Mrs. Woods," said Betty with an airof mystery; and one of the children jumped up and down at that happysuggestion.
Tears came into Mrs. Woods' eyes. "May God bless you all," said she."And there is a chance that _he_ may get work the first of the year,steady work, I mean. He's out in one of the suburbs now, puttingcoal in for a man."
"Oh, tell me, Mrs. Woods, about the Sevillas," suddenly saidKathryn, more or less embarrassed by Mrs. Woods' fervent thanks, towhich Betty was responding with the wish that everything would "comeright" for them.
"Yes,--sure enough. Why the old lady was well pleased to beremembered with a Thanksgiving gift and Rosie did not mind as muchas I thought she would. You see it was too late to do anything aboutit and Rosie was worried about her old mother, too. I guess all theyneeded was something to eat.
"But all at once one morning Rosie came up to say good-bye and theywere moving. Some way or other they had got a new trunk and that andsome old grips were all that went out. She brought up a few thingsshe was leaving behind. I couldn't make out just where they weregoing from what Rosie said. She didn't seem to want to tell meanything. I ran down to tell the old lady good-bye; and when Rosiewas having the trunk taken out, she said that Rosie was frightenedand she didn't know where they were going, and Rosie didn't wantanybody to know. They were going to the station from here, but shethought they would stay in the city. Anyhow that was what I made outfrom the bit of English she has finally picked up and her signs withher poor old hands.
"I've inquired, though, and Rosie isn't working or sewing for thefolks she did work for and nobody knows anything. So I suppose theydid leave town. Only the good Lord knows what will become of them.The only thing I can think of is that Rosie got a job in some otherplace, and I hope that's it."
"Did Rosie ever speak of a brother, or cousin, or any relative atall?" asked Betty.
"Never a word about any one. I never knew anybody as close-mouthedas Rosie. She was asked all sorts of questions by the folks aroundhere, of course, but she never let them get well enough acquaintedto keep it up. I didn't need but a hint myself. I let folks tellwhat they want to. I like to keep my own business to myself if I canwith all these!" Mrs. Woods nodded at the children as she spoke.
"I wish I'd seen Rosie," thoughtfully said Betty, But it was time tosay good-bye and go on to the next duty or pleasure; for this hadbeen a very "Christmasy" day, the girls declared. There had been thelast rehearsal for the Christmas play, when the performers were"actually" excused from classes if they had any the "last two bells"or periods. Tomorrow morning the play would be given in two assemblygatherings, in order that the whole school might see it. And thatnight would listen to the carols.
"Why did you ask about Rosie Sevilla's relatives?" asked Kathryn ofBetty, and Betty for the first time told about the name on theletter from Ramon.
"It may not mean anything and again it might," said Betty. "Once ina while I feel worried about it. It just seems that I might havemissed an opportunity. There is some mystery about Ramon and thereseems to be about these people. That's about the only connection.And they're Spanish, of course."
"I wouldn't worry any, Betty," said Chet. "You can't fix up thingsfor e
verybody."
"No," said Betty, "but you can help sometimes, Chet. Oh, isn't itgetting dark? I'm glad we're out of those streets! Do you thinkwe'll have snow? I do want snow for Christmas!"
"We still have a little left, Betty," laughed Kathryn, pointing to anarrow stretch of dark snow and ice that edged the streets andwalks, or spread in patches over lawns.
"Oh, that!" exclaimed Betty. "I mean something soft and white andclean."
"You're likely to get your wish," said Chauncey. "There's one ofthose gray snow clouds now from where the wind is blowing."
"Will we go carolling if it snows?" asked Kathryn.
"Of course we shall," replied the president of the Lyon "Y." "Wehave cars and people to drive them and chaperons and everything!"
Another duty was performed. Betty was the first one to be droppedfrom the Allen car, courteously assisted out by Chet, who wouldprobably have come in a few moments or lingered at the door to talk,if it had not been so near dinner time, and if Chauncey had notprivately informed him that no "visiting with best girls" wasallowed this time.
And the next day was the "last day of school!"
That welcome day dawned with a few scattered flakes of snow flyingin a frosty air. In happy anticipation the Lee children hurriedtheir preparations for school, Betty carefully packing her costumefor the play in a light suitcase, which Dick generously offered tocarry, provided they "had to take" the street car. It was not alwaysconvenient for Mr. Lee to drive his children to school.
"If this goes off as well as the Christmas pageant did at thechurch, I'll be satisfied," said Betty, her cheeks pink with theexercise and excitement about coming events, as they boarded thestreet car together. The car was packed with boys and girls on theirway to school. Doris and Betty secured a strap each and hung onwhile they nodded to this one or that one whom they knew. "Remind meto tell you a 'trade last,' Betty, when we get off the car," saidMary Emma, who happened to be sitting by Betty's strap.
"I'll not forget to do that," said Betty, breezily. "Who said it?"
"Guess."
But Betty would not guess, and there was too much noise forconversation; for when large numbers of pupils are together, ifmanners are remembered at all, older passengers are usuallythankful. But these high school pupils, if a bit noisy at times,were an interesting and attractive group that needed only occasionalreminders from motorman or conductor when too full of spirits.
Arm in arm with Mary Emma, and carrying her suitcase in her freehand, Betty traversed the walk to the high school building. "It wasBudd, Betty," said Mary Emma. "He said that you would have made thebest angel in the play--your hair and eyes and everything--and thatit was too bad you hadn't been in the dramatic club longer and thatthey had to let a senior girl have the part anyway."
"Why, wasn't that _nice_ of old Budd!" cried Betty, pleased. "Andthe angel has to say things, so it couldn't be just looks, Buddmeant."
"Suppose it was--wouldn't that be nice enough?"
"No, Mary Emma. Looks are something you're born with and can't helpand they're no credit. See?"
"H'm. You're a funny girl! So are people born either with brains orwithout 'em. I don't agree with you. And I'd rather have looks thanbrains."
"Much you would. But as you're pretty well supplied with both youneedn't worry."
"I thank you," said Mary Emma with mock formality, as they separatedinside of the door, Mary Emma to seek her locker and home room,Betty to report first with her costume, before she also would jointhe other junior girls of her home room.
So old Budd thought she would have made a good angel. That was nice.Budd had been at the pageant at the church. He had a part in theplay to be given this morning. And as Betty happened to meet him inthe hall on her way to her home room, she gave him such a welcomingsmile, without realizing it in the least, that Budd was pleasantlysurprised. He believed he'd get ahead of old Chet and ask Betty wayahead for something or other in the party line. Say, why couldn't hetake her to that big moving picture that was coming in vacation? Itwas a proper one that the Lees would let Betty see. They were almostsilly about Betty; but perhaps that was what made her sort ofdifferent--and independent! Gee-whilikers--but Betty wasindependent!