Grace Harlowe\'s Return to Overton Campus - Jessie Graham Flower
Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus
By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M.
Author of The High School Girls Series, The College Girls Series, etc.
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY
Copyright, 1915
[Illustration: The Girls Worked Busily]
CONTENTS
I. A Midsummer Pilgrimage
II. A Welcome Guest
III. An Unexpected Caller
IV. The Secret Session
V. The Way to Perpetual Youth
VI. Jessica's Wedding
VII. The Return of Emma Dean
VIII. A Strange Applicant
IX. Mary Reynolds Makes a New Friend
X. The Thirty-Third Girl
XI. Evelyn Ward, Freshman
XII. The Harlowe House Club
XIII. Planning for the Reception
XIV. A Disquieting Thought
XV. A Semper Fidelis Reunion
XVI. The Interrupted Confidence
XVII. A Week-End in New York
XVIII. A Humiliating Reprimand
XIX. An Unintentional Listener
XX. A Double Puzzle
XXI. The Puzzle Deepens
XXII. Two Letters
XXIII. Kathleen West, Confidante
XXIV. Conclusion
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Girls Worked Busily.
"Why, Emma Dean!" Exclaimed Grace.
"We Decided to Give Our Loyalheart a Loyalty Token."
"Did I Startle You, Miss Ward?"
Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus
CHAPTER I
A MIDSUMMER PILGRIMAGE
"Overton, at last!" exclaimed Grace Harlowe, as, regardless of possible
cinders and stern railroad injunctions, she leaned far out of the car
window to obtain a first eager glimpse of her destination.
It was midsummer, and the quiet, little town of Overton drowsed gently,
not to awaken until the sounds of girl laughter and the passing of light
feet through its sleepy streets roused it to the realization that it was
Overton College that made its hum-drum existence worth while.
"Oh, Mrs. Gray, you can't imagine how happy I feel!" went on Grace, her
eyes eloquent with emotion. "Next to home, I love Overton better than
any other place on earth. I'm so glad we are going to stay at Wayne
Hall, and that Mrs. Elwood is to meet us."
A long shrill whistle, a creaking and groaning of protesting iron
wheels, the stentorian cry of "Overton! Overton!" and then a sudden
jarring stop. Grace reached to the rack overhead for Mrs. Gray's small
leather bag, allowing the dainty little old lady to precede her down the
aisle which was practically clear. Apparently they were the only Overton
passengers in that car. She stood still on the top step of the train
until Mrs. Gray had been safely landed on the platform by the smiling
porter, then, disdaining his helping hand, ran down the steps with a
joyful skip that caused her companion to say indulgently, "You'll never
grow up, Grace, and I'm glad of it. I can't become reconciled to the
fact that Nora and Jessica are brides-to-be and that Anne's art is
making her terribly serious. It's a joy to my old age to see you frisk
about as happily as you did when you were a little thing in short white
skirts with two long braids of fair hair hanging down your back."
"I don't really feel a bit older than I did then," confessed Grace.
"Sometimes I'm almost ashamed of my enthusiasm. It seems as though nice
things are always happening to me, and this summer pilgrimage of just we
two is the nicest of all."
They were walking slowly across the deserted platform now, and Grace was
keeping a sharp look-out on all sides for the short, comfortable figure
of Mrs. Elwood.
"There she is!" Grace hurried forward, her hands outstretched. The next
instant they were held in Mrs. Elwood's welcoming grasp, while she
kissed Grace's soft cheek.
"My dear, dear girl!" she exclaimed, a suspicious moisture in her kindly
blue eyes. "It does seem good to see you again. I'm very glad to welcome
you to Overton, Mrs. Gray," she turned to shake hands with the donor of
Harlowe House, "and delighted to know that you are going to stay with me
instead of going to the Tourraine. Miss Harlowe's old room is ready for
her, and I'm going to put you in the room Miss Nesbit and Miss Briggs
used to have."
"You'll be haunted by the kimono-clad shades of Miriam and Elfreda
drinking tea and eating cakes at unseemly hours of the night," laughed
Grace.
"How are all my girls?" asked Mrs. Elwood. "I don't know what I shall do
without them this year. You will have to come and see me often and tell
me all about them, Miss Harlowe. Now let me see. There ought to be a
taxicab just the other side of the station. Yes, there it is."
The driver touched his cap smilingly to Grace as they climbed into the
automobile, "It does look good to see you here again, miss," he said
respectfully.
"Thank you. I'm glad to see you again." Grace beamed whole-heartedly
upon him. How many times he had carried her to and from the station. It
was he who had driven the car on that memorable day when Ruth Denton had
gone to the station to meet her father. Grace's eyes grew dreamy as they
passed through the familiar streets. How much had happened since the
time when she had entered Oakdale High School as a freshman with college
in the far and hidden future.
To her many friends "Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High
School," "Grace Harlowe's Sophomore Year at High School,"
"Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School," and "Grace
Harlowe's Senior Year at High School" are now familiar records.
Equally well known to these friends is the story of her freshman year at
Overton, as set forth in "Grace Harlowe's First Year at Overton
College."
Accompanied by her friends, Miriam Nesbit and Anne Pierson, Grace began
her freshman year at Overton College under a cloud which rose from her
ready defense of J. Elfreda Briggs, a disgruntled student who had made
enemies of two sophomores, and whose first days at college were made
very unpleasant by them. J. Elfreda's subsequent casting aside of her
friendship and her tardy realization of Grace's worth brought about a
happy ending of their freshman year.
In "Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College" the four
girls set out to find the rainbow side of their sophomore year. How each
girl found it, but in an entirely different manner, how Grace lived up
to her resolve to choose only the highest in college, and how the famous
Semper Fidelis Club came into existence, made the sophomore year in
college memorable.
"Grace Harlowe's Third Year at Overton College" told of what
befell the four friends as juniors. The advent of Kathleen West, a
newspaper girl, into college was the first link in a chain of petty
difficulties with which Grace was obliged to contend as a junior. The
carnival given by the Semper Fidelis Club in which the Alice in
Wonderland Circus was enacted, the important part which Jean, the old
hunter of Oakdale fame, played in one Overton girl's life, the message
Emma Dean forgot to deliver, and countless other absorbing incidents
served to fill their junior year with ceaseless interest.
"Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College" found Grace
and her friends on the homeward stretch with commencement at the end of
their college trail. The record of Grace's senior year was filled with
happenings grave and gay. It ended in a blaze of honor and glory, and it
was on Commencement day that she made her decision to return to Overton
and look after Harlowe House, lately completed and endowed by Mrs. Gray
in honor of her young friends and dedicated to the use of poor girls who
were making valiant efforts to obtain an education.
It was in reference to Harlowe House, her future home, that Grace and
Mrs. Gray had made this midsummer pilgrimage, as Grace had laughingly
styled it, to Overton. As their car glided through the shady streets of
the dignified college town Grace wondered if it were really eight years
since her freshman days in Oakdale High School. It certainly couldn't be
four years since Mabel Ashe had conducted her and Anne and Miriam to the
Tourraine on that first eventful afternoon. She remembered just how
beautiful Mabel had looked in her white linen frock, with her white
embroidered parasol tilted over one shoulder, an effective frame for her
lovely face and wavy, golden-brown hair.
"Dreaming, Grace?" Mrs. Gray's voice dispelled the vision. "I can't
blame you. I suppose this ride brings up hosts of memories."
Grace nodded. She could not trust her voice to answer. A sudden mist
filled her eyes, a silent tribute to those whose feet had once kept pace
with hers through these beloved ways. Commencement had scattered them
broadcast. She, alone, was coming back again to take up life at the
college. How she would miss them all. The dry irresistible humor of Emma
Dean, the sturdy independence of J. Elfreda Briggs, the daintiness of
Arline Thayer and the steadfast loyalty of Ruth Denton. Last of all
there were Anne and Miriam. Anne, her devoted little comrade of years,
and Miriam, whose faith and good fellowship had never failed her.
A sob rose in Grace's throat, but she quickly stifled it. After all she
was about to begin the work she herself had chosen. She had known when
she announced her determination to take charge of Harlowe House that
things could never be quite the same. It would be selfish, indeed, in
her to break down and cry when Mrs. Gray had come to Overton solely to
help her select the furniture and plan for the opening of Harlowe House
in September.
Grace pulled herself together and, resolutely putting her own sense of
loss behind her, said steadily: "I couldn't help thinking of the girls
for a minute. It made me want to cry, but I've set my face to the future
now, and I'm sure that my new work is going to bring me as much
happiness here as I had during the other dear four years. When I think
of how splendid it was in you to give Harlowe House to Overton, I feel
as though there isn't any sacrifice too great for me to make to insure
its success, and I hope that my coming back to Overton Campus to do my
work is going to mean a thousand times more to me next June than it does
now."
CHAPTER II
A WELCOME GUEST
The summer sun, streaming intimately in at the window of her room, and
touching her hair with warm, awakening fingers, caused Grace to open her
eyes before six o'clock the next morning. She lay looking about her,
unable for the moment to remember where she was. Then she laughed and
reaching for her kimono, which hung folded across the footboard of the
bed, slipped it on, and, thrusting her feet into her bedroom slippers,
went to the window.
"Dear old Overton Hall," she murmured, her eyes fixed lovingly on the
stately gray tower of the building that she had come to regard as a
close friend. Again she found herself overwhelmed by a tide of
reminiscences. How many times she and Anne had stood at the self-same
window, arm in arm, gazing out at the self-same sights. She could see
the very seat at the foot of the big tree where she had sat the day Emma
Dean had poked her head about the big syringa bush and mournfully handed
her the letter from Ruth Denton's father which had been buried in the
pocket of Emma's coat for so many weeks. She smiled as she recalled the
ludicrously penitent expression with which Emma had delivered the
letter. There were the library steps on which Arline Thayer had sat and
cried so disconsolately because she could not go home for Christmas.
Once more she saw a strange procession winding its way across the campus
headed by a walking, chattering scarecrow, Emma Dean again in her famous
representation of "Never Too Late to Mend," which had been one of the
great features of the Famous Fiction dance.
Then she saw four girls, with their shining heads bared to the sun,
strolling across the campus, talking earnestly of what the future held
for them. And still again she saw them in caps and gowns marching toward
the Gate of Commencement. It was only a little time since they had
passed through that gateway, yet how long it seemed.
Suddenly her look of abstraction changed to one of startled interest.
Running to the door she threw it open and listened intently. She heard
Mrs. Elwood's voice raised in pleased surprise, then, could she believe
her ears? she heard another never-to-be-forgotten voice say, "I could
see that there was some one awake and stirring."
With a joyous cry of "J. Elfreda, where, oh, where did you come from?" a
lithe, blue-robed figure raced down the stairs and wrapped both arms
tightly about a plump young woman, in a tailored coat suit, who returned
the warm embrace with interest.
"Oh, Grace, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you again!" exclaimed
J. Elfreda Briggs fervently. "I never was so glad in all my life as when
I found out you were here. The letter was forwarded to me at the beach.
We're at Wildwood for the summer. Maybe I didn't pick up my things in a
hurry. To use slang, which you know I can't resist using occasionally, I
hot-footed it for the station the minute Ma said I could come."
"Which letter do you mean, Elfreda?" asked Grace in a puzzled tone.
"Why the one from Mrs. Gray, of course," returned Elfreda. "Isn't she
here?"
"Yes, but--"
"Grace! Elfreda!" called Mrs. Gray from the head of the stairs, "come up
here, children."
"Come on." Grace seized Elfreda's heavy suit case and started up the
stairs. Elfreda followed with alacrity. "Now," laughed Grace, as she
stepped into Mrs. Gray's room, "I demand an explanation." She laid her
hands lightly upon the old lady's shoulders, smiling down at her, then
bent and kissed her cheek.
"This is certainly a happy meeting," declared Elfreda, as she embraced
Mrs. Gray, who rose to greet her.
"I'm so glad you could come, my dear. I knew that Grace would miss her
friends dreadfully when she came back here. Anne and Miriam are both
away, and Nora and Jessica are too deep in the mysteries of hope chests
and wedding finery to be dragged off on even the most delightful of
midsummer pilgrimages. But my greatest reason for asking you to come was
because I believed you were the very person Grace needed to make her
happy here. You see it will take at least two weeks to set things to
rights and she must have inspiring company. I hope everything has
arrived safely. Suppose we hurry through with our breakfast and go over
to Harlowe House at once. Mrs. Elwood tells me that she informed the
caretaker yesterday of our coming. We shall be obliged to stop at his
house for the key."
"Oh, Elfreda, I'm so sorry that you weren't with us in New York," was
Grace's regretful cry. "We stayed with the Southards, Mrs. Gray, Anne,
Miriam and I. Anne, Miss Southard and Mr. Southard left New York City
for California last week. Mr. Southard and Anne are to appear as joint
stars in film productions of 'As You Like It,' 'Hamlet,' 'King Lear' and
possibly other Shakespearian plays. It is their first experience in
posing before the camera. Anne sent you her love. She will write you as
soon as she is settled."
"Dear little Anne," smiled Elfreda, her eyes growing tender.
"I hope she'll be back in time for the girls' weddings. Nora and Jessica
say positively that they won't be married without her." Grace looked
anxious.
"When are they to be married?"
"The last of September. The date hasn't been set."
"Grace," Elfreda fixed round solemn eyes on her friend, "do you feel
very old this summer?"
"Not the least little bit. I can't realize that I've come back to
Harlowe House to take charge of it. I feel as young as I felt when I
first entered high school."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it, for, to save me, I can't feel responsible
and dignified. I've run and raced and swum and played golf like an
Indian all summer, and honestly I feel ever so much younger than when I
came to Overton four years ago. See how tanned I am? I haven't gained an
ounce either. I weigh just one hundred and thirty-five pounds and no
more," concluded J. Elfreda in triumph.
"You are in splendid condition, Elfreda," praised Mrs. Gray. Grace
nodded emphatic approval.
"Yes, I'm strong enough to hustle furniture, beat rugs, scrub floors, or
do anything else necessary to the beautifying and eternal improvement of
Harlowe House." Then she added slyly, "Lead me to it."
"You'll be led to it fast enough," promised Grace. "Just wait until we
have some breakfast."
At that moment Mrs. Elwood appeared in the open doorway. "Shall I bring
your breakfast upstairs this morning?" she asked. "I thought Mrs. Gray
might like to have it in her room."
"Thank you, but I'd rather go downstairs this morning," nodded the
energetic old lady. "May we breakfast a la negligee?"
"Yes, come down just as you are. There is no one here besides myself and
the maid."
"Miss Briggs, have you had your breakfast? Jane is making waffles. I
thought you--"
"Waffles!" exclaimed Elfreda, rolling her eyes in ecstacy. "If I'd had
fifty breakfasts I couldn't resist waffles. Thank goodness Vinton's
wasn't open."
"Aren't waffles supposed to be fattening?" inquired Grace judiciously.
"Don't ask me," was Elfreda's fervent protest. "I've set my mind on
eating them, even though I have to walk to Hunter's Rock and back in the
glare of the noonday sun to counteract their deadly effects."
It was a merry trio that gathered around the table which Mrs. Elwood had
set on the roomy, vine-covered back porch, and it was fully an hour
after they sat down to breakfast before they rose to go upstairs and
make ready for their visit to Harlowe House.
"There is no use in trying to begin our real work to-day," declared
Grace, as the three left Mrs. Elwood's and strolled slowly along College
Street in the direction of the caretaker's house. Mr. Symes, who had
faithfully executed so many commissions for Grace, had been selected as
the best possible person to look after the house. "Mr. Symes was to see
that everything was unpacked before we arrived. We shall have to employ
two men to move the heavy furniture. Thank goodness and Mrs. Gray, there
are no carpets to be laid. The floors are all hard wood and there are
rugs for every room except the kitchen and laundry."
"I brought an old dress along," Elfreda informed her friends. "I helped
Ma set our cottage to rights this summer and I know something about
work. We had two maids and a scrubwoman. The maids were in my way, so I
sent them off for a holiday and the scrubwoman and I tackled the job and
went through with it like wildfire. Ma nearly had a spasm, but she liked
the looks of things when we had finished. You should have seen me,
though. Ma didn't like my looks. I guess I did resemble a human mop if
you know what that looks like."
"I can imagine," laughed Grace. "If you attack the business of putting
Harlowe House to rights with the same energy, I shall know exactly how
you looked when you cleaned the cottage."
"Perhaps you will," Elfreda grinned boyishly. "I hadn't thought of
that."
"You couldn't see that far ahead, could you?" quizzed Grace with
twinkling eyes.
"No I couldn't," declared Elfreda earnestly, then, catching sight of
Grace's dancing eyes, she laughed good-naturedly. "You will tease me
about that. I can see that you'll never outgrow the habit."
"I can see that Elfreda is going to lighten our labors and make our
tasks merry," smiled Mrs. Gray. "What a joy and a diversion you must
have been to Miriam."
"I was anything but an unqualified source of pleasure during my freshman
year," replied Elfreda. "It is plain to be seen that Grace never told
you my early Overton history."
"Now, Elfreda--" began Grace, but Elfreda was not to be thus easily
deterred from saying her say. She launched forth with a ludicrous
account of her freshman shortcomings that left Mrs. Gray and Grace
breathless with laughter.
"Elfreda, it is hard to say which is funnier, you or Hippy," Mrs. Gray's
eyes twinkled with enjoyment.
"Well, isn't it so?" demanded J. Elfreda. "Isn't that exactly the way I
used to do?"
"It's what I call a highly exaggerated account of your self-named
misdeeds," returned Grace. "You haven't said a word about all the nice
things you did for the girls."
"I don't remember them," evaded Elfreda hastily. "Oh, there's Mr. Symes
now! How are you, Mr. Symes? You didn't expect to see me here, did you?"
"Well, well, if it ain't Miss Briggs," beamed the old man joyfully. His
remembrance of J. Elfreda was decidedly pleasant. She had always paid
him generously for the numerous errands he had run for her. He greeted
Grace with equal enthusiasm, and bobbed like a nodding mandarin before
Mrs. Gray.
"I hope you have been well, Mr. Symes. How is your wife and how do you
like being caretaker of Harlowe House?" asked Grace.
"I'm well, miss, and so's my wife. It's a fine place, miss, that Harlowe
House, an' it'll be finer still when fall comes and it's full of Overton
students. We're pretty proud of our young ladies, we Overton folks.
Excuse me, miss, I'll go over to my house and get the key. I'll be right
along."
"He has a whole lot of real college spirit," commented Elfreda, "or he
couldn't speak so beautifully of the Overton girls."
"He always was a perfect old dear," agreed Grace warmly.
The caretaker soon overtook them with the key, and the little company
crossed the street and traversed the deserted campus.
"How strangely still everything is," commented Grace. "Not in the least
like it was six months ago, is it, Elfreda?"
"It gives me the blues," averred Elfreda in a low tone.
"Here we are," called Mrs. Gray, with a cheery attempt at dispelling the
tiny cloud of dejection that had fallen over the two girls. "Harlowe
House couldn't have a prettier site."
The three women followed Mr. Symes up the steps, then, as if by common
consent, turned and looked out over the green expanse of closely-clipped
lawn, sprinkled with sentinel-like old trees. They had stood guard year
after year and silently watched the comings and goings of the hundreds
of girls who proudly acknowledged Overton as their Alma Mater.
"What's the use of gazing and mooning?" asked Elfreda, with sudden
brusqueness. "Please open that door, Mr. Symes. I shall certainly weep
and wail disconsolately out of pure sentiment if you don't distract my
attention with something else. Show me the furniture, or the boxes it
came in, or anything else that won't call forth tender reminiscences."
Grace's laugh sounded a trifle shaky, but it was a laugh nevertheless.
Something in Elfreda's brusque tones acted as an antidote to her
retrospection. She had been more or less ghost-ridden ever since her
return to Overton. She now resolved to shake off that pleasantly
melancholy sensation and "be up and doing with a heart for any fate."
The caretaker admitted them to a hall crowded with huge packing boxes.
In fact, the whole of the first floor was occupied by the large
shipments of furniture recently delivered into the care of Mr. Symes.
"It's worse than the cottage," announced Elfreda; "a regular howling
wilderness. I'd like to know how we can possibly guess what's what and
why. These boxes all look alike. If we have our minds set upon seeing
the parlor suite, we'll be sure to unpack the kitchen furniture
instead."
"We'll let the men wrestle with the unpacking, girls," decided Mrs.
Gray. "I don't wish my body guard to nurse wholesale bruises and smashed
fingers. Mr. Symes, can you have two men besides yourself here this
afternoon to unpack these things?"
"I certainly can, Mrs. Gray," promised Mr. Symes with respectful
promptness.
"Then we'll have to possess our souls in patience until to-morrow,"
sighed Grace. "Isn't this a lovely, roomy house, Elfreda? I'm so glad,
too, that there isn't a prim, stiff parlor. I like this immense
living-room much better. The girls will surely like it. It will serve as
a library too. That little room just off the hall will make such a
convenient office for me. Imagine me as the head of a college house,
with an office all my own, Elfreda."
"It's a good thing for the house," commented Elfreda. "I hope the girls
that live here will appreciate you, Grace. I hope none of them will be
as silly as J. Elfreda Briggs was."
"Elfreda, how can you?" remonstrated Grace.
"How could I, you mean," flung back Elfreda. "Because I was a spoiled,
selfish ingrate who never stopped to think of any one else's rights."
"Now, now, Elfreda," protested Mrs. Gray.
"Well, I was," insisted Elfreda positively. "It took a whole year to
reduce me to order. I wasn't as hopeless as some of the others. It took
three years to make Alberta Wicks and Mary Hampton real Overton girls,
and two years to instil college spirit into Kathleen West. But Grace
never gave any of us up, even though we treated her so shabbily. That's
why I just said I hoped that the girls would appreciate Grace. I'd hate
to think that some stupid ill-natured freshman, it's more likely to be a
freshman than any one else, would behave like an idiot and spoil her
first year at Harlowe House." There was an expression of anxious concern
on Elfreda's round face.
"Don't worry, Elfreda," reassured Grace, "the students who come to
Harlowe House to live are sure to be nice. Girls who have their own way
to pay through college are usually cheerful and unselfish. They are
anxious to live and willing to let live."