CHAPTER IV
TIES FROM OTHER DAYS
ONE morning, a few days later, Mrs. Jack Emmet was ushered into Betty'spersonal sitting room. Betty was writing notes and Bettina was curled upin a big chair near the window with a book of fairy tales in her lap.
Both of them rose at once, Betty kissing her friend affectionately. Buther little girl, who showed her affection differently from otherchildren, sitting down by Meg's side, slipped her small hand insidehers.
Meg was beautifully dressed in a dark blue broadcloth and black fox furswith a velvet hat and small black feather curled close against her lighthair. Yet the hat was the least bit awry, one lock of hair had comeuncurled and been blown about by the wind, and a single blue button hungloose on the stylish coat. Noticing these absurd details for some reasonor other, Betty felt oddly pleased. For they brought back the Meg ofold days, whom not all the strenuous years of Camp Fire training hadbeen able to make as neat as she should have been, although since hermarriage she seemed to have greatly changed.
Therefore, in observing these unimportant facts of her friend's costumeBetty failed to catch the difference in her expression. They began theirconversation idly enough in discussing the ball of a few nights before,the Governor's health and just how busy he was and what people weresaying of him in Concord. For, although Mr. and Mrs. Graham had onlybeen installed in the Governor's mansion a few weeks, Mr. and Mrs. JackEmmet had been living in Concord ever since their marriage about fiveyears before.
Nevertheless, if Betty had not observed the change in her friend, insome unaccountable fashion Bettina had. Not that the little girlrealized that Mrs. Emmet had dark circles under her eyes and thatinstead of gazing directly at her mother as she talked, her glancetraveled restlessly about the pretty room. Nor did Bettina know thatMeg's cheeks were not a natural pink, but flushed to uncomfortableredness; no, she only appreciated that "Aunt Meg," for whom she cared agreat deal, was uneasy and unhappy and would perhaps enjoy having herkeep close beside her.
"You will stay and take lunch with us, won't you, dear?" Betty urged,moving forward to assist her visitor in removing her wraps. "You see, weshall probably be all by ourselves. Anthony is too busy to come home,Angel is at the office and Faith asked to be left alone for the day. Thechild is probably scribbling away on some story she desires to write.Then after lunch we can see little Tony. The baby is well again, onlythe nurse wants him kept quiet."
Affectionately Betty placed her hands on Meg's shoulders and standingdirectly beside her now for the first time looked closely into her face.To her shocked surprise she discovered that unexpected tears had startedto Meg's eyes.
At once Betty Graham's happy expression clouded. For she was no lessready with her sympathy than in former days, and the Camp Fire girls ofthe old Sunrise Club seemed almost like real sisters.
"You came to tell me of something that is troubling you and I didn'tdream of it till this minute!" Betty exclaimed, slipping off Meg's coatand unpinning her hat without waiting for permission. Then, pushing herfriend down into a big, soft armchair, she took a lower one opposite.
"Isn't it good fortune that we are living in the same place just as weused to long ago?" She continued talking, of course, to allow hercompanion to gain her self-control. Then she glanced toward Bettina, butMeg only drew the little girl closer, hiding her face for an instant inher soft hair.
"I'm absurd to be so nervous, Betty," Meg whispered apologetically."Please don't think there is anything serious the matter. Only--only Ihave come to ask you a favor and I don't know exactly how to begin. Ofcourse, we used to be very intimate friends and all that, but now youare the Governor's wife, and--and----"
Before she could finish a somewhat hurt voice interposed. "And--and--Iam Betty Ashton Graham still, very much at your service, Sweet Marjoram,as Polly once named you. Dear me, Meg, don't be absurd. I can't say Ifeel particularly exalted by my position as wife of the new Governor,though of course I am frightfully vain of Anthony. Besides you know ifthere is anything I can do that you would like, I shall be happier thanI can say." With a laugh that still had something serious in it, Bettyput her hand over her friend's. "I still insist that I owe Anthonypartly to you," she ended.
But this time Meg did not trouble to argue the absurd statement.
She began talking at once as rapidly as possible, as if glad to get thesubject off her mind.
"It's about John, I came to talk to you, my brother, John Everett,Betty," Meg explained. "I don't know whether you have seen much of himlately, but you were devoted friends once and I thought perhaps for thesake of the past you might be interested."
"John Everett? For the sake of the past I might be interested! Whateverare you talking about?" Betty was now frowning in her effort tounderstand and looked absurdly like a girl, with her level brows drawnnear together and her lips pouting slightly. "Why, of course I aminterested. I used to like John better than any of the other beaus wehad, when we were girls, except Anthony. Tell me, is John going to bemarried at last? I have wondered why he has waited such a long time. ButI suppose he wanted to be rich first. It has been about two years sincewe met by accident in a theater in New York, but I thought he had grownhandsomer than ever." This time Betty's laugh was more teasing thansympathetic. "I wonder why sisters are so jealous of their big brothersmarrying, Mrs. Jack Emmet? You are married yourself--why begrudge Johnthe good fortune? I don't believe Nan has ever entirely forgiven me forcapturing Anthony. I am convinced she would have preferred any other ofthe Camp Fire girls. There is only one of us, however, whom she wouldhave really liked, and that is Sylvia. Yet who would ever think ofDoctor Sylvia Wharton's marrying?"
This time Meg's voice was firmer. "But John isn't going to be married,Betty. It is quite a different thing I wish to talk to you about.Instead of John's getting rich on Wall Street, as you think, he hasgotten dreadfully poor. And I am afraid it is not just his own money hehas lost, but father's savings. Now Horace will have to give up hiscollege and I really don't know what will become of father. He is tooold to begin teaching again since his resignation several years ago."
Her voice broke, but then her friend's face was so bewildered and sofull of a sudden, ardent sympathy, that it was difficult for Meg to keepher self-control. However, she said nothing more for a minute, but satbiting her lips and wondering how to go on to the next thing.
Fortunately Betty helped her. "I expect John will have to come back homeand take care of your father. Horace is too young and it is more John'splace than your husband's. I am sorry, for I'm afraid things will seempretty dull for him here after his gay life in New York."
All at once Betty's face cleared a little and she leaned back in herchair. "But you remember, Meg, that when you first spoke you said youwished me to do you a favor. Is there anything in the world I can do? Iam sure I can scarcely imagine what it is, yet if I can in any way helpyou out of this trouble----"
"You can," Meg whispered shyly; "that is, perhaps not you, but Anthony,and you are almost the same person."
In answer to this rather surprising statement Betty Graham merely shookher head quietly. However, this was scarcely the time to argue whetheror not marriage merged two persons into one or simply made each onebigger and more individual from association with the other. She wantedto do whatever was possible to assist Meg and John Everett too in thistrying time in their affairs. Besides, as a little girl she had alwaysbeen fond of old Professor Everett, whose life had been given to thewisdom of books rather than to the living world. But most of all, beinga very natural woman, Betty was now keenly curious to know how she couldpossibly be expected to be involved in the present situation and whatshe could do to help out.
"You are right. John does mean to come home, or at least he wishes toreturn. He says he is tired of New York and all the fret and hurry andstruggle of life there. But you see, Betty dear," and Meg spoke quicklynow that she had finally come to the point of her story, "there is nouse John's returning unless he has something to do. There is where
youand Anthony can help. I didn't think of this myself, but when my husbandand I were talking things over he said that Anthony and you and I weresuch old friends and that the new Governor had so many appointments hecould make to all sorts of good positions. So we thought perhaps youwould ask Anthony to help John. I know Anthony does anything you wish."
"Oh!" Betty replied somewhat blankly. For never had she been moresurprised than by Meg's request. Of course she knew that Anthony wasmaking a number of changes in positions held by people whom he thoughtunworthy of trust throughout the state. Often he talked about what hefelt he should do, but really it had never dawned upon Betty until thisminute that she or her friends could be in any way concerned. Still, whynot? John was a good business man, Betty thought; he was not dishonestor dishonorable and the Everetts were her old friends. If Anthony couldhelp them in their present trouble, surely he would be as glad as shewas to have the opportunity.
Yet Betty hesitated before answering. However, as she did not wish tomake Meg uncomfortable she slipped from her own chair and put her armsympathetically about her friend's shoulders, while she endeavored tothink things quietly over. Finally Betty returned:
"I can't _exactly_ promise what you first asked, Meg dear. You see, Ihave always intended not to interfere in the things that did not seemaltogether my affair. But somehow, since you have asked me and forJohn's and your father's sakes, who are such old friends, why I don'tfeel as I did before. I tell you, I _will_ ask Anthony this very night,so let's don't worry any more. Tina darling, run and tell the maids wewould like our luncheon up here. Our dining room is so absurdly big."
As she talked, as if by magic Betty's expression had changed and againshe was her usual gay, light-hearted self. Of course she and Anthonytogether would be able to clear away Meg's troubles. Never before hadshe entirely realized how fine it was to have power and influence.
Moreover, Betty's confidence also inspired Meg, and for the first timein weeks Mrs. Jack Emmet felt like the Meg Everett of the old days inWoodford, who used to keep house for her father, kiss her small brotherHorace's (surnamed Bump's) wounds and help and encourage her big brotherJohn in all his ambitions and desires.
Just as Meg went away, however, she insisted quite seriously:
"Betty, I often think that even if our old Camp Fire Club did nothingmore for us than to bind our friendships together in the way it has, itwould be dreadful for all girls not to have the same opportunities intheir lives. Talk of college friendships, surely they are not to becompared with those of Camp Fire clubs!"