CHAPTER XI--A STRANGE PREDICAMENT
"Our last expedition, girls. Shall we all make it?"
"Oh, don't tell us this is the wind-up of our glorious honeymoon! Ifeel exactly like a deserted bride. How can we leave it all for oldWellington, Jane?"
"Judy, dear, you forget the old saw about the fish that have not yetbeen caught. And I always thought you such a good sport."
"Janie, I know all that junk about fish. But just look at dear old NewYork! And see our applied science in exact housekeeping! I----"
"You were never exact, Judy. And I couldn't call that clump ofwearables really scientific looking. In fact, I am worried about theexpressmen coming in and grabbing up your train togs. Then you wouldhave to go off in the flimsey you wore to the play last night. I fancyit would rather be outre en route."
"Now, Janie, don't flash anything like that on me, at the moment, Ilove French in a nice rich translation like Hugo, but the naked truthin French rather frightens me. Make it English. You mean to say itwould be outrageous for me to wear a theatre gown while travelling.There, I guessed it first shot. Give me one point."
"Seriously, Judith, the expressmen will be here this morning. You mustrealize they cannot carry things over their arms."
"Yes, I know. I have always thought it would be lots nicer if they did.It musses things up so to have to pack them. But since my innovation isnot yet current, I suppose I shall have to spoil everything by crammingthem in their awful little boxes. Jane, did you ever hear of a currentinnovation?"
"Can't recall that I have, dear. But I know what you mean. Helen, areyou going with us on our very last shopping tour?"
Helen was folding up the precious garments so lately acquired. Thefondness with which she smoothed them betrayed her delight in theiracquisition. Helen had vehemently protested she did not need so manypretty things, but Jane would have her fitted out as well, and perhapsa little better than most "freshies." Helen looked up with the eyestruly labeled violet, and like that wonderful flower, the depths oftheir color was softened to velvet by the least glint of dew.
"If you would not mind, Jane dear," she risked. "I feel I should liketo have everything packed. And what more can we possibly buy?"
"All right, girlie. You may stay home and sigh, and kiss things up. Iknow you just hate to give up housekeeping, and I don't blame you inthe least. We have had a lovely time," and Jane stopped to wind her armaround the curly head bent over the boxes on the floor. "You stay homeif you wish, Helen, but don't scold me if I bring you one more--littlehandkerchief, or something like that?"
"Jane, I have wanted to tell you. I feel so over--over----"
"Helen, you mean overwhelmed, don't you?" suggested Judith.
"Yes, Judith, that is the big word I want. I feel--that way abouteverything. I had many pretty things once, but since I came to AmericaI have been glad to be here, and not think of all I once loved."
Jane and Judith paused in their rushing about and listened attentively.Jane had been rather dreading this little speech from Helen.
"Yes, I have been so happy since I met you, and it seems we have beenfriends for always," went on the Polish girl. "But I want you to know Ido not expect to be ever like this--a--guest. Some day I shall be able torepay."
"Now don't spoil everything by getting sad and gloomy," Janeadmonished. "You know we just need you as much as you need us. Can'tyou see that?"
"I am very glad," and she brushed away something that blurred her bigeyes. "I would like to do a great favor if ever I am the artist. I thenwill give--and give, and perhaps it will be a little, but never as muchas this."
"You are engaged to play my wedding march, Helen," Jane declared, "andI shall expect you to do that for the sake of these old times." Janewas trying to make light of the threatening tragedy. "And besides that,you will surely have to play for Judith when she has her cowboyreunion. I believe she intends to engage the Hippodrome for thatevent."
"No place smaller, nor less substantial would answer my purpose,"Judith agreed, annexing Jane's humor. "I am going to show this New Yorksome day, what the boys of El Capitan can do in the way ofentertaining. Just you wait, Helen, until next vacation. We will takeyou out to Montana, and show you all the wonders I have enjoyed. I haveforever blotted from my childish memory the thought of any otherbattleground, as a vacation scene. What I enjoyed on Jane's ranch isindelible."
"Come along, you chatter-box," urged Jane. "We must be back at leastfor the train. Good bye, Helen dear. Keep your door locked."
In spite of their years, with decorum annexed, the two girls werealways strongly tempted to slide down those adorable banisters in MissJordan's big old-fashioned hall, and now, as they were going out foralmost the last time, both girls eyed each other suspiciously.
"We don't dare, but it's a shame," spoke Jane. "That comes of gettingold."
"Like a bald spot, it's the emptiness that hurts. Don't you feel avagueness for a slide?" asked Judith, smoothing the glossy raillovingly.
"Yes, but Judith, did you notice someone in the lower hall just as weleft our room?" whispered Jane. "See that figure--gliding around thepedestal?"
"The plumber, likely," replied Judith. "I have seen that old coatbefore. Let's hurry, Janie, or, as you said, I shall have to give theexpressmen my things 'As Is,' which means any old way, in storeparlance. Where do we go from here?"
At the door Jane glanced back a little ruefully. She had seen someone--a man, surely, standing there, just as they came out of the bigroom at the top of the stairs, and possibly when he noticed they couldobserve him he disappeared in the direction of the heavy folding doorsand the big bronze statue, that marked the entrance to the dining room.
"I wish Helen had come along," Jane remarked when on the sidewalk,"somehow I will be rather glad when we all get safely to Wellington."
"I have felt the same way these last few days," admitted Judith. "Jane,I think you are a wonder not to come right out, and ask Helen what allthe mystery is about. Don't you feel a bit squeamish having her turnpale at old men's faces, and seeing her dodge every foreign-lookingman, woman and child who comes along? Surely she is not too proud to bePolish."
"Oh, no, indeed. I know it is nothing like class pride. She loves towatch the little children who congregate around hand organs andhurdy-gurdies, her eyes dance with them. No, Judith, Helen has asecret, and I am sure it is one that keeps her anxious, but why shouldI pry into it, just because she happened to win a scholarship? Thatwould be poor sport, wouldn't it? To exact a price--the price ofpersonal confidence from the winner? She won honestly and we are gladshe did, so why speculate?"
"The Greeks still live," spoke Judith. "Jane, I believe if old friendMethuselah happened back for something he had forgotten, you would handit out to him without asking the secret of his eight hundred years oflife. Too personal for you. All righty. I shall agree, and I love thelittle curly-headed Helen. Also, I claim first round from theopposition when we start basketball and fight for Center. This is thesort of day that brings our game up even above the joy of seeing MarianSeaton die of envy. Did I tell you I had a letter from Visite? She isthe French girl who came at the end of last season, you know,Adrienne's friend."
"Oh, yes, I recall, her name is Visitation and they call her Visite.She always wore such absurd high heels, didn't she?"
"That's Visite. But we will forgive her the heels for she speaks andwrites perfect English. Some of the big girls, as she calls them, arehaving their cars sent out. I guess they did not like beingovershadowed by your wonderful horse, Firefly. Not that a mere machinecould compare with that glorious little animal."
"Oh, they may have their cars. I don't fancy motoring--yet. I may taketo it when I get old and feeble. Here we are. I want to get a Tell-Talefor Katherine. Don't you think they are the dearest little books? Andthey always do tell tales, if we keep them written up. Let us look atthese."
They inspected the dainty new dairies on the beautifully polished glasscounter in Brientos. The new style diary had
much to recommend it. Thesuggestions given in "Heads" left little to be worked out, by even suchregistrants as might be indolent. There were classified duties,pleasures, accidents, questions, engagements, expenses, apologies,dance steps, candy recipes, and such other incidents as might beparticularly interesting to young girls. The lines were partly written,so that all the writer should fill out was the end of the line, like aninsurance blank.
"Now, that is the way all our themes ought to be started for us,"specified Jane. "If we had a starter line we could dash off a thesiswith our eyes shut. I will take two of these. I am going to give one toElaine. You know how she loves to write."
"Yes, I remember too well. She wrote a beautiful poem all over mycloset door, and I had to stand for it," recalled Judith. "Better buyher a couple of reams of paper besides that sample. She needs space."
From the stationer's the girls paid a last visit to their favoriteconfectioner. The amount of candy purchased seemed extravagant. Eventhe white-capped and ribbon-aproned clerk looked surprised when Judithcalled for the third box of cherries, but when the girls said good-bye,and Jane unpinned her own violets for this pretty little candy countermiss, the very delivery boy who swung out with the big white package,whistled good naturedly.
"Is that all?" asked Judith, glancing at her wrist watch anxiously.
"Almost. I want to get dad another box of cigars and Aunt Mary a bottleof sachet. I ordered her favorite scent and it will be ready now. Theycan be mailed direct from the stores."
Steps quickened, and cheeks glowing accordingly, Jane and Judith spedalong. New York had been attractive, and the days just gone were filledwith happy memories.
Finally, with lists all checked off, Miss Jordan's apartment wasreached within ten minutes of the actual time set for return.
"I am sure Helen has everything ready," commented Jane, getting out herlatch key.
"Trust her for that," Judith replied. "I hope she has been the goodSamaritan to poor little me. Otherwise I see those armfuls and thestaggering expressmen."
At the inside door, that opened into the girls' own apartment, Janefumbled with her key. It would not open the door.
"Locked with the key in," Judith thought. "Call Helen!"
"Helen! Open the door!" called Jane. "Helen--are you there?"
No answer.
"She could not have gone out and left the key on the inside," Janesaid, anxiously now. "I wonder what can be the matter."
"Let me shake the door," suggested Judith. "Queer----"
"Oh, is that you, girls?" called Miss Jordan from the lower hall. "Ihave been trying to find someone to let me in there. The expressmenhave been here, and I could not reach your trunks."
"But we left Helen in," Jane was trembling now. "She must be inside.Listen! Helen!"
A shuffling behind the panel could now be heard, then the key turned inthe door, and Helen confronted them, pale and disheveled.
"Oh, child, whatever is the matter!" exclaimed Miss Jordan, brushingpast the two girls and getting her motherly arms around the totteringHelen. "What ever has happened to you?"
"Oh, I--got--weak--I guess I fainted. I am all right now. I am so sorry----"
"Sorry!" exclaimed Jane. "Why, Helen dear, to think you were all alone.And had the door locked so Miss Jordan could not reach you! Sit downand let us get you some ammonia. Judith, it is on my stand. Pleasefetch it quickly."
No need to tell Judith to hurry, for the color of the little Polishgirl's face was warning enough.
"Were you frightened of anything?" asked Miss Jordan, rubbing thetrembling hands.
"But no one came in, did they, Helen?" asked Jane in real alarm.
"Oh, no, I--locked the door when I felt so queer. I thought perhaps itwas the expressmen, but I could not attend----"
"You were very wise, my dear," and Miss Jordan shook her headthoughtfully. "It was better to be alone, although the experience wasunpleasant. Those men might have picked up anything from thiscollection and then----"
"I am so sorry we left you alone," Judith murmured, with real penitencein her voice. "And to think we were gadding about, while you were illand needed us so urgently. There, swallow that ammonia. It will soonrevive you. I should hate to faint."
"Oh, I am again all right," and the pale face lightened up just ashade. "I am so much of a baby to get sick like that----"
"We will not leave New York until to-morrow if you do not feelperfectly all right," announced Jane with authority.
"Oh, but please, yes," begged Helen. "I am so glad to get to the bigschool. I like New York, but it is not like the college with all biggrounds----"
"That is just what I say, Miss Allen," put in Miss Jordan as shesmoothed the cushions they were piling around Helen. "You young ladieshave been having a great time, running around and feeding on electives,as we say at college when we choose our own studies. Are you sure youfeel all right to travel, Helen?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. It was nothing. I was so happy--with all the newthings that I forgot to eat my breakfast. I shall be all ready when theother girls are. And I am so grieved to give trouble." Helen was nowquite herself again. The ammonia had done the work of restoring thetemporarily impeded circulation. But Jane and Judith were not satisfiedthat all the story of her sudden illness had been told. It wasdecidedly strange that a girl should faint, right in her own room, andin the middle of the day. Still, both were too wise to press questionsjust then. The very best plan to be put in operation, they weredeciding silently, was for all hands to be off to Wellington that veryafternoon.
There was some bustling about, but Miss Jordan helped, and in spite ofthe confusion the baggage was finally shipped successfully and on time.
"Little old New York!" exclaimed Jane merrily, pressing her personalgood bye on Miss Jordan. "You have been very good to the WellingtonRefugees. And we thank you."