CHAPTER VI
A CLUB MEETING AND A MYSTERY
"There!" exclaimed Louise Sampson as she succeeded in firmlyestablishing at the top of the bulletin board a large white card,bearing the significant legend, "Regular Meeting of the Harlowe HouseClub. 8.00 P.M. Living Room. _Full Attendance, Please._"
A small, fair-haired girl came down the stairs and joined Louise at thebulletin-board. She read the notice aloud. "Oh, dear, I've an engagementwith a girl at Wayne Hall to-night. I don't care to miss the meeting,and I don't like to break my engagement," she mourned.
"I wish you would break it just this once, Hilda," said Louiseseriously. "I am anxious that every member of the club shall attend themeeting to-night. I have something of importance to say to the girls."
Hilda Moore opened her blue eyes very wide. "What are you going to say,Louise? Tell me, please. You see I made this engagement over a week ago.If you'd just tell me now what it's all about, I wouldn't really need tocome to the club meeting. I could----"
"Keep your engagement," finished Louise, her eyes twinkling. "Really,Hilda Moore, if you knew a tidal wave, or a cyclone or any othercalamity was due to demolish Overton I believe you'd go on makingengagements in the face of it."
Hilda giggled good-naturedly. She was a pretty, sunshiny girl of a pureblonde type, and had been extremely popular during her freshman year atOverton, not only with her fellow companions at Harlowe House, but as amember of the freshman class as well. In spite of her round baby face,and a carefree, little-girl manner that went with it, she was a capablebusiness woman and earned her college fees as stenographer to the dean.The daughter of parents who were not able to send her to college, shehad not only prepared for college during her high-school days, but hadtaken the business course included in the curriculum of the high schoolwhich she attended, and had thus fitted herself to earn her way in theLand of College.
Hilda's unfailing good nature was appreciated to the extent of makingher a welcome guest at the informal gatherings which were forever beingheld in the various students' rooms after recitations were over for theday. The consequence was that, as her studies and clerical duties lefther limited time for amusements, her precious recreation moments wereinvariably promised to her friends many days in advance. In fact HildaMoore's "engagements" had grown to be a standing joke among them.
"Promise me on your bright new sophomore honor that you'll offer yourpolite regrets to the other half of that important engagement of yoursand attend my meeting," appealed Louise.
"Well," Hilda looked concerned, "I _could_ see the girl this afternoonand change the date." She smiled engagingly at Louise.
"Of course you _will_," Louise agreed, answering the smile. "You see Iknow you, Hilda Moore."
"But I wouldn't do it for any one else except Miss Harlowe or MissDean," was Hilda's positive assertion. "Mercy, look at the time! I'llhave to run for it if I expect to reach the office before Miss Wilder.Good-bye."
Hilda was gone like a flash, leaving Louise to stare contemplatively atthe notice. As the president for the year of the Harlowe House Club shefelt deeply her responsibility. She had been unanimously elected at theclub's first meeting, greatly to her surprise.
Louise Sampson was perhaps better fitted to be president of the HarloweHouse Club than any other member of that interesting household. Emmaand Grace had agreed upon the point when, before the election, theformer's name had been mentioned as a probable candidate. This thoughtsprang again to Grace's mind as she came from her office and saw Louisestill standing before the bulletin board, apparently deep in thought.She turned at the sound of Grace's step.
"Oh, Miss Harlowe!" she exclaimed. "I do hope our meeting to-night willbe a success. Surely some one will have a real live idea for the club toact upon."
"Thirty-four heads are better than one," smiled Grace. "There isinspiration in numbers."
"We did wonderfully well with the caramels last year, and this year Ibelieve they will be more popular than ever. We made twice as many asusual last Saturday, and sold them all. We were obliged to disappointquite a number of girls, too. Our little bank account is growing slowlybut surely. Still there are certainly other things we can do to earnmoney, collectively and individually. Really I mustn't get started onthe subject. It is time I went to my chemistry recitation. You'll be atthe meeting to-night, won't you, Miss Harlowe? We couldn't get alongwithout you."
A faint flush rose to Grace's cheeks at Louise's parting remark. Howwonderful it was to feel that one was really useful. Yes; thethirty-four girls under her care really needed her. They needed her farmore than did Tom Gray. Grace frowned a trifle impatiently. She had notintended to allow herself to think of Tom, yet there was something inthe expression of Louise Sampson's gray eyes that reminded her of him.Resolving to put him completely out of her mind, Grace went into thekitchen to consult with the cook concerning the day's marketing. Thepostman's ring, however, caused her to hurry back to her office wherethe maid was just depositing her morning mail on the slide of her desk.
Her letters were from Anne, Elfreda and her mother, and they filled herwith unalloyed pleasure. Her mother's unselfish words, "I hope my littlegirl is finding all the happiness life has to offer in her work,"thrilled her. How different was her mother's attitude from that of TomGray. Surely no one could miss her as her mother missed her, yet she hadgiven her up without a murmur, while Tom had protested bitterly againsther beloved work and prophesied that some day she would realize thatwork didn't mean everything in life.
All that day the inspiring effect of her mother's letter remained withGrace. Her already deep interest in her house and her charges receivednew impetus, and when evening came, she felt, as she entered the bigliving room where the thirty-four girls were assembled, that she wouldwillingly do anything that lay within her power to forward theprosperity and success of Harlowe House.
After the usual preliminaries, Louise Sampson addressed the meeting inher bright direct fashion. "Ever since we came back to Harlowe Housethis year I've felt that we ought to do something to increase ourtreasury money. If the club had enough money of its own, then theHarlowe House girls wouldn't need to borrow of Semper Fidelis. Thatwould leave the Semper Fidelis fund free for other girls who don't livehere and who need financial help. Of course we couldn't do very much atfirst, but if we could get up some kind of play or entertainment thatthe whole college would be anxious to come to see, as they once did abazaar that the Semper Fidelis Club gave, the money we would realizefrom it would be a fine start for us. Now I'm going to leave the subjectopen to informal discussion. Won't some one of you please express anopinion?"
"Don't you believe that some of the students might say we were selfishto try to make money for our own house instead of for the college?Semper Fidelis was organized for the benefit of the whole college, butthis is different," remarked Cecil Ferris.
A blank silence followed Cecil's objection. What she had just said was,in a measure, true.
Louise Sampson looked appealingly at Grace. She had been so sure thather plan of conducting some special entertainment on a large scale wouldmeet with approval. Cecil's view of the matter had never occurred toher.
"I am afraid that Miss Ferris is right," Grace said slowly. "Much as Ishould like to see the Harlowe House Club in a position to take care ofits members' wants I am afraid we might be criticized as selfish if weundertook to give a bazaar."
"Why couldn't we give one entertainment a month?" asked Mary Reynoldseagerly. "I am sure President Morton would let us have Greek Hall. Wecould give different kinds of entertainments. One month we could give aShakespearean play and the next a Greek tragedy; then we could act ascenario, or have a musical revue or whatever we liked. We could makeposters to advertise each one and state frankly on them that theproceeds were to go to the Harlowe House Club Reserve Fund. We wouldn'task any one for anything. We wouldn't even ask them to come. We'd justhave the tickets on sale as they do at a theatre. If the girls like
d thefirst show, they'd come to the next one. We'd ask some of the populargirls of the college who do stunts to take part, and feature them. Ithink we'd have a standing-room-only audience every time."
Mary paused for breath after this long speech. The club, to a member,had eyed her with growing interest as she talked.
"I think that's a splendid plan," agreed Evelyn Ward. "I'm willing to doall I can toward it. I've had only a little stage experience, but I'dlove to help coach the actors for their parts."
For the next half hour the plan for increasing the club's treasury waseagerly discussed. A play committee, consisting of Mary Reynolds, EvelynWard, Nettie Weyburn and Ethel Hilton, a tall, dark-haired girl, notedfor making brilliant recitations, was chosen.
"Has any one else a suggestion?" asked Louise Sampson, when the firstexcitement regarding the new project had in a measure subsided.
"Why couldn't we have a Service Bureau?" asked Nettie Weyburn. "I meanwe could post notices that any one who wishes a certain kind of workdone, such as mending, sewing or tutoring, could apply to our bureau.Every one knows that the students of Harlowe House are self-supporting.We wouldn't be here if we weren't. Some of us have a very hard timeearning our college fees. Some of us have been obliged to borrow money,and comparatively few of us ever have pocket money. If the girls whodon't have to do things for themselves found that we could always bedepended upon for services I imagine we would have all the work we coulddo."
"Hurrah for Nettie!" exclaimed Cecil Ferris. "I think that's a fineidea."
"So do I," echoed several voices.
"But we'd have to put some one in charge of the bureau, and no one of uscould afford to spend much time looking after it," reminded Louise.
"Oh, we could take turns," was Nettie's prompt reply. "Then, too, wecould have certain hours for business, say from four o'clock until sixon every week day, except Saturday and from two o'clock until five onSaturday afternoons."
"But where would we receive the girls who came to see about having workdone?" asked Alice Andrews, a business-like little person who roomedwith Louise Sampson.
"I will see that the Service Bureau has a desk installed in one cornerof the living room," offered Grace, who had, up to this point, listenedto the various girls' remarks, a proud light in her eyes. She loved thesturdy self-reliance of the members of her household. "And there willalso be times when I can do duty on the Bureau, too," she added.
"No, Miss Harlowe, you mustn't think of it," said Louise Sampson. "Youdo altogether too much for us now."
"I am here to take care of my household," smiled Grace. "Besides, itwill be a pleasure to help a club of girls who are so willing to helpthemselves."
"Miss Harlowe is really and truly interested in the girls here, isn'tshe?" Jean Brent commented to Evelyn Ward in an undertone. Having passedher examinations Jean was now a full-fledged freshman.
"Yes, indeed," returned Evelyn, with emphasis. "She has done a greatdeal for me. More than I can ever hope to repay."
"What--" began Jean. Then she suddenly stopped and bent forward in alistening attitude. The electric bell on the front door had justshrilled forth the announcement of a visitor. A moment and the maid hadentered the room with, "A lady to see you, Miss Harlowe. I didn't catchher name. It sounded like Brant."
Jean Brent grew very white. Turning to Evelyn she said unsteadily, "Idon't feel well. I think I will go up stairs." Without waiting forEvelyn to reply, she rose and almost ran out of the living room ahead ofGrace. As she stepped into the hall she darted one lightning glancetoward the visitor, then she stumbled up the stairs, shaking withrelief. She had never before seen Grace's caller.
"How do you feel?" was Evelyn's first question as she entered their roomfully two hours later. "You missed a spread. We had sandwiches and cakeand hot chocolate."
"I can't help it," muttered Jean uncivilly. Then she saidapologetically, "I'm much better, thank you. Please forgive me for beingso rude."
While in the next room Grace was saying to Emma, who, owing to anengagement, had not attended the meeting, "Really, Emma, the name'Riddle' certainly applies to Miss Brent. She came to the meeting withthe others, and when it was only half over she bolted from the livingroom and upstairs as though she were pursued by savages. I wouldn't havenoticed her, perhaps, but I had been called to the door. Mrs. Brant cameto see me about my sewing. Miss Brent hurried out of the living roomahead of me. I saw her give Mrs. Brant the strangest look, then up thestairs she ran as fast as she could go."
"Grace," Emma looked at her friend in a startled way. "You don't supposeMiss Brent has run away from home do you? The names Brant and Brentsound alike. She may have thought that some member of her family hadfollowed her here."
It was Grace's turn to look startled. "I don't know," she saiddoubtfully. "I hope not. I should not like to harbor a runaway unless Iknew the circumstances warranted it, as was the case with Mary Reynolds.I didn't think of Miss Brent's secret as being of that nature. SurelyMiss Lipton would not countenance a runaway. Still I don't wish to tryto force this girl's confidence. I prefer to let matters stand as theyare, for the present, at least. I've promised to respect her secret,whatever it may be, and I am going to do so."
Emma shook her head disapprovingly.
"I don't like mysteries, Grace. When we talked Jean Brent over a fewdays ago I told you that I didn't think it mattered if she choose towrap herself in mystery. But I've changed my mind. I believe you owe itto yourself to insist on a complete explanation from her. Suppose lateron you discovered that you had been deceived in her, that she wasunworthy. Then, again, she might put you in a disagreeable positionwith President Morton or Miss Wilder. You remember the humiliation youendured at Evelyn's hands. I, who know you so well, understand that yourmotive in trusting Miss Brent unquestioningly is above reproach. Butothers might not understand. If she proved untrustworthy, _you_ would becensured far more than she." Emma's tones vibrated with earnestness.
Grace sat silent. She realized the truth of her friend's words. Emmararely spoke seriously. When she did so, it counted. Still, she hadgiven her promise to this strange young girl, and she would keep herword. After all Jean Brent's secret might be of no more importance thanthat of the average school girl.