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margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3.4em;} +.poem span.i0b {display: block; margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3.8em;} +.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1.2em; + padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2.4em; + padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + +.tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + padding: .5em 1em .5em 1em; font-size: 80%;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Molly Brown's College Friends, by Nell Speed</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Molly Brown's College Friends</p> +<p>Author: Nell Speed</p> +<p>Release Date: July 14, 2011 [eBook #36733]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN'S COLLEGE FRIENDS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by<br /> + Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, eagkw,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcover"> +<img src="images/molly8cover.jpg" width="420" height="627" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/molly8frontis.jpg" width="400" height="576" alt="She blew in at nightfall with a huge suit-case." title="" /> +<span class="caption"><a href="#Page_127">She blew in at nightfall with a huge suit-case.</a><br /> +<span class="lft">(<i>Frontis</i>)</span> <span class="rght">(<i>Molly Brown’s College Friends</i>)</span></span> +</div> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h1>MOLLY BROWN’S<br /> +COLLEGE FRIENDS</h1> +<hr class="l4"/> + +<p class="tp"><span class="smcap">By</span> NELL SPEED</p> +<hr class="l6"/> + +<p class="tp2"><span class="smcap">Author of</span><br /> +“The Tucker Twins Series,” “The Carter<br /> +Girls Series,” etc.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/tp.png" width="113" height="228" alt="logo" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="l4"/> + +<p class="tp">A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +<span class="lft">Publishers</span> <span class="rght">New York</span><br /> +Printed in U. S. A.</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="tp2">Copyright, 1921,<br /> +BY<br /> +HURST & COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="right">Printed in U. S. A.</p> +<hr class="l2"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>Contents</h2> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="col1">I.</td><td class="col2">Nance Oldham</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">II.</td><td class="col2">By the Firelight</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">III.</td><td class="col2">The Would-Be’s</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">IV.</td><td class="col2">Fairy Godmothers Wanted</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">V.</td><td class="col2">The Critics</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">VI.</td><td class="col2">“I Had A Little Husband No Bigger +Than My Thumb”</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">VII.</td><td class="col2">Nance Packs Her Trunk</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">VIII.</td><td class="col2">A Damp Coat</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">IX.</td><td class="col2">Plans</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">X.</td><td class="col2">All the Old Girls</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XI.</td><td class="col2">An Interesting Couple</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XII.</td><td class="col2">An Old-Time Party</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XIII.</td><td class="col2">Adventure</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XIV.</td><td class="col2">As Seen from the Summer-House</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XV.</td><td class="col2">The Professor at a Kimono Party</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XVI.</td><td class="col2">War Relief</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XVII.</td><td class="col2">Till Death Doth Us Part</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XVIII.</td><td class="col2">The Punishment of Mildred</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XIX.</td><td class="col2">A Death</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XX.</td><td class="col2">Germs</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XXI.</td><td class="col2">Her Father’s Own Daughter</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XXII.</td><td class="col2">The Arrest</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XXIII.</td><td class="col2">They Also Serve</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1">XXIV.</td><td class="col2">The Trenches</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>Molly Brown’s College<br /> +Friends</h1> + + +<h2>CHAPTER I<br /> + +<small>NANCE OLDHAM</small></h2> + + +<p>“I am so afraid Nance will be changed,” +sighed Molly as she put the finishing touches to +the room her old friend was to occupy.</p> + +<p>“I’ll wager anything she is the same old Nance +Oldham,” insisted Professor Green, obediently +mounting the ladder to hang the last snowy curtain +at the broad, deep window in the guest +chamber overlooking the campus. “I think she +is the kind of girl who will always be the same. +Is that straight?”</p> + +<p>“A little bit lower at this end—there! What +a comfort you are, Edwin!” and Molly viewed +the effect approvingly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Pretty good general houseworker, eh?” and +the dignified professor of English at Wellington +College ran nimbly down the ladder and hugged +his wife. She submitted with very good grace to +his embraces in spite of the fact that the fresh +bureau scarves and table covers with which she +was preparing to decorate her old friend’s room +were included in the demonstration of affection.</p> + +<p>Professor Edwin Green always declared that +he never expected to catch up on all the years +he had loved Molly Brown and had been forced +to let “concealment like a worm in the bud feed +on his damask cheek.” He and Molly had been +married almost four years on that day in March +when he was assisting in the imposing rite of +hanging curtains in the guest chamber, and she +was still as wonderful to him as she had been on +that day they had walked through the Forest of +Fontainebleau and he had confessed his love. She +was the same charming girl who had lingered too +long in the cloisters and been locked in to be +rescued by him on her first day at college, now +so many years ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>Indeed, Molly Brown has changed very little +since last we saw her. Little Mildred is walking +and talking and singing little tunes and saying +Mother Goose rhymes. She even knows her letters +upside down and no other way, having +learned them from blocks, presumably standing +on her curly head as she acquired the knowledge.</p> + +<p>There is another baby in the nursery now: +little Dodo, whose real name is George, a remarkably +satisfactory infant who sleeps when he +should and wakes in a good humor, taking the +proper nourishment at the proper hours and going +back to sleep. Molly had learned the great +secret of young motherhood from her first born: +not to take parenthood too solemnly and seriously, +and to realize that Mother Nature is the +very best mother of all and babies thrive most +when left as much as possible to her all-wise and +tender care.</p> + +<p>Nance Oldham, Molly’s old friend and roommate +at college, was coming at last to make her +long promised visit to the Greens. Little wonder +that Molly feared she would be changed!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +Nance’s path in life had not been strewn with +roses. No doubt my readers will remember that +Mrs. Oldham, her mother, was a clever woman, +lecturer, suffrage agitator, anything but a homemaker. +When Nance finished college she had +gone back to Vermont and dutifully kept house +for her neglected father, although her secret ambition +was to teach. Mr. Oldham had been so +happy in having a home of his own that Nance +had felt fully repaid for her sacrifice. Her +mother, too, had at last realized the delights of +home, when someone else had the trouble of keeping +it, and had spent much more time with her +family than she had for many years.</p> + +<p>A lingering illness had attacked Mr. Oldham +and after two years of tender nursing on the +part of his daughter and futile ineffectual attempts +at tenderness on the part of his wife, the +poor man had passed away. Then it was that +Nance’s friends had felt that her career might +begin, but Mrs. Oldham had suddenly decided +that she could not live without the husband who +had been ever patient with her vagaries and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +had gone into a slow decline. More nursing and +self-denial for the patient Nance!</p> + +<p>She was an orphan now and although she was +in reality little more than a girl she felt old and +settled, that the little youth she had ever had, had +left her years ago. Molly had written her immediately +on hearing of Mrs. Oldham’s death, declaring +that she and her Edwin were ready and +eager for the long-deferred visit. “I say +‘visit,’” wrote Molly, “but I want you to make +your home with us. Little Mildred calls you +Aunt Nance and Dodo will call you the same as +soon as he can talk.”</p> + +<p>The guest chamber was now in perfect order. +The fresh curtains hung as straight as a learned +professor of English could hang them, the bureau +scarf and table cover were smooth and spotless, +and on the window sill blossomed a pot of sweet +violets sent by Mrs. McLean from her own +greenhouse.</p> + +<p>“I wonder about Nance and Andy McLean,” +said Molly, as she and her husband were walking +to the station to meet their guest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Wonder what about them?”</p> + +<p>“Wonder if they will ever marry!”</p> + +<p>“Pooh! I fancy it was just a schoolgirl affair. +They don’t often amount to much.”</p> + +<p>“Schoolgirl affairs can be right serious, as +you of all others should know!”</p> + +<p>“Thank goodness, some of them!” said Edwin +devoutly.</p> + +<p>“I reckon Nance will be in deep mourning,” +sighed Molly. “I hate mourning,—I mean long +veils and crêpe trimmings.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,—a relic of barbarism!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll give up my literary club for a while. I +know Nance will not feel like seeing a lot of +young people.”</p> + +<p>Professor Green said nothing but he felt it +was rather hard on Wellington that any of its +pleasures should be curtailed because of the death +of a lady in Vermont. But Molly must do what +she thought best. He hoped their guest would +not put too long a face on life and would not +prove inconsolable.</p> + +<p>The long train stopped at the little station at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +Wellington and Molly and her husband eagerly +scanned the few passengers who alighted from +the Pullman. One lady in a long crêpe veil got +an embrace from the impulsive Molly but she +turned out to be an utter stranger and not the +beloved Nance.</p> + +<p>“She didn’t come!” cried Molly.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, she did, but she came on a day +coach,” and there was Nance hugging Molly and +shaking hands with Professor Green at the same +time.</p> + +<p>That gentleman was viewing his wife’s old +friend with great satisfaction. Instead of the +long crêpe veil and the lugubrious black-clothed +figure, here was a slight young woman in a +neat brown suit and furs, with a close brown +velvet toque and a chic little dotted brown +veil.</p> + +<p>“Nance! I was expecting——”</p> + +<p>“Of course you were expecting to find me +swathed in black. I am doing what Mother +asked me to do. She hated mourning and so did +Father and I am a fright in black and it would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +have meant a new outfit, which I can ill afford, +and so——”</p> + +<p>“And so you are a sensible girl,” said Professor +Green approvingly, as he took possession +of her traveling bag and trunk check.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nance, you are not changed one bit!” +cried Molly.</p> + +<p>“You are changed a lot,” said the truthful +Nance, “but you are more beautiful. In fact, +you never were really beautiful before, but now, +now——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, spare my blushes!” cried Molly, who +did not spare herself but blushed and blushed +and blushed again.</p> + +<p>Nance was the same little brown-eyed person +with the same honest look out of those eyes. In +repose her mouth did have a slight droop at the +corners but otherwise she might have been a college +girl still, so youthful were her lines and so +clear and rosy her healthy skin. Her hair was as +Molly had always remembered it, smooth and +glossy with much brushing and every lock in +place.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Are you tired, honey? If you are, we can +go home in the bus,” suggested Molly. “Look +what a fine motor bus we have now! Do you +remember the old yellow one with the lame +horses?”</p> + +<p>“Do I? And also that I met you right at this +station when we were both freshmen and we rode +up in that bus together. Oh, Molly, it is wonderful +to be here with you! No, I’m not tired, so +let’s walk.”</p> + +<p>The professor was due for lectures and the +girls left him without reluctance. Even husbands +were superfluous when such old friends met after +being separated for so many years. There was +so much to talk about, so many loose threads to +catch up, so much belated news that had not +seemed important enough to write.</p> + +<p>“I’m dying to see the children.”</p> + +<p>“They are lovely! There is Mildred now waving +to us from your window. I wonder what she +is doing in there. I do hope she has not got into +mischief,” said Molly uneasily.</p> + +<p>The guest chamber was still spotless and Molly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +breathed a sigh of relief. She had had visions of +the irrepressible Mildred’s making dolly sheets of +the bureau scarf or of putting her black kitten to +sleep in the snowy bed. The chubby imp was +standing with her back to the window, her hands +behind her. Her golden curls made a halo +around her charming face, her brown eyes were +soft and dreamy and her rosebud mouth looked +as though butter would not melt in it.</p> + +<p>“Come, darling, and speak to Aunt Nance,” +said Molly.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t no Aunt Nance!”</p> + +<p>“Mildred!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, Molly! Don’t force her. She +and I will end by being sweethearts, I am sure,” +said Nance laughing.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, Dodo will be your sweetheart +now,” declared Molly, going through all the +agony of motherhood when the offspring refuses +to be polite. “You may go to Katy, Mildred,” +in a tone as severe as she could make it.</p> + +<p>Mildred sidled around, carefully keeping her +back to her mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What have you in your hand, darling?”</p> + +<p>“Fings!”</p> + +<p>“What things?”</p> + +<p>“I been a-tuttin’.”</p> + +<p>“Scissors! Oh, Mildred, you know how afraid +your mother is for you to play with scissors! +What am I to do with you?”</p> + +<p>Mildred made a sudden resolution. Why not +throw herself on the mercy of this new aunt for +protection. She darted by her mother and +sprang into the ready arms of Nance.</p> + +<p>“I been a-tuttin’ a bunch of vi’lets for my +Aunt Nance—an’ I been a-fwingin’ her curtains +all pretty for her.”</p> + +<p>In one hand she had tightly clasped a huge +pair of shears and in the other the violets which +she had ruthlessly culled from the pot sent by +Mrs. McLean.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mildred, see what you have done,” agonized +Molly. “Mrs. McLean sent them to you, +Nance. I am so sorry they are spoiled.”</p> + +<p>“But they are not,” declared Nance, trying to +keep down the blush that would come at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +knowledge that Andy McLean’s mother had +shown her this attention. “We can put this dear +little bunch in water, and I am sure there are +many more buds to bloom. Let’s see, Mildred.”</p> + +<p>“’Deed they is! I wouldn’t cut no li’l baby +buds off for nothin’ or nothin’. ’Tain’t no bad +Milly in this house.”</p> + +<p>“But the curtains!” wailed poor Molly when +she viewed the neat fringes that her daughter had +so carefully slashed with the great shears.</p> + +<p>“Now don’t worry about that,” insisted +Nance. “Mildred and I are going to cut them +off and hem them up. Aren’t we, Mildred? +Very short curtains are all the style now, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” exclaimed the wily Mildred eagerly, +“the windows likes to show they silk stockings, +jes’ like the ladies.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you darling!” cried Nance, sinking +down and holding the child in her arms, while +Molly rescued the long and dangerous shears.</p> + +<p>“Now, Muvver, you needn’t to worry no mo’,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +Aunt Nance an’ I is done made up an’ I done +forgive her an’ all.”</p> + +<p>“But how about you! Who has forgiven +you?”</p> + +<p>“Me! I done forgive myself ’long with Aunt +Nance. I say right easy way down inside me: +‘Milly, ’scuse me!’ An’ then way down inside +me say mos’ politeful: ‘You’s ’scusable, darlin’ +chil’.’”</p> + +<p>“Molly, how can you resist her?” asked +Nance.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t reckon I can,” said Molly, +whimsically. “But you won’t do it any more, +will you, Mildred?”</p> + +<p>“No’m, never in my world—cross my heart +an’ wish I may die—bake a puddin’ bake a pie did +you ever tell a lie yes you did you know you did +you broke yo’ mammy’s teapot lid.”</p> + +<p>“Some of Kizzie’s nonsense!” laughed Molly, +remembering in her childhood saying exactly the +same thing.</p> + +<p>And so Nance Oldham was received into the +home of the Edwin Greens. Already she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +won the approval of the master by appearing in +colors and not swathed in black (men always do +hate mourning). Mildred had decided to love +and honor and make her obey. Little Dodo soon +accepted her lap as an especially nice place to +spend his few waking moments, and Molly’s love +and welcome were assured from the beginning of +time.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER II<br /> + +<small>BY THE FIRELIGHT</small></h2> + + +<p>The only home Nance Oldham had ever +known she had made herself after she left college. +Her childhood and girlhood had been spent in +boarding houses with her patient father, while +her brilliant mother made occasional hurried and +preoccupied visits to them. There had been a +time when Nance had felt bitterly towards her +mother because she was not as other mothers +were, but the realization had finally come to her +that her mother could no more be as other +mothers than other mothers could be as Mrs. Oldham +was. She had decided that instead of her +mother’s being a mistake, that she, Nance, was +the mistake. She should never have been born; +but now that she was born she intended to make +the best of it. The fact that she had never had a +home made a home just that much more precious +and desirable in her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>What a lovely home this square old brick house +on the campus made! Nance remembered well +in her college days that it was not such a very +attractive place, rather bleak, in fact. It needed +a mistress, the soul of a house; and now in place +of the blank uncurtained windows of old days, +Molly’s genial hospitality and kindness seemed +to look out from every pane of glass. The college +girls named Mrs. Edwin Green “The Fairy +Godmother of Wellington.” She was called into +consultation on every occasion. The President +of Wellington wondered if it were not incumbent +upon her to offer Molly a salary for her services.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what we would do without her. +I believe the college would simply go to pieces +without Mrs. Edwin Green.”</p> + +<p>The students, old and young, rich and poor, +flocked to the brick house which they dubbed +“The Square Deal.” There Molly administered +advice and love and sympathy with absolute impartiality, +also with perfect unconsciousness that +she was the guiding star of the student body.</p> + +<p>“She is the only really truly democratic person<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +I ever knew,—of course, besides O. Henry, and I +didn’t exactly know him,” Billie McKym declared. +“She and O. Henry simply don’t regard +money one way or the other in their judgment +of persons. Now most social workers think +of the rich as necessary evils in the way of pocketbooks +and such. They really take no interest in +anyone who does not need financial or moral help, +but Molly and O. Henry are just as good to the +rich as the poor.”</p> + +<p>Billie was back at Wellington taking extra +courses that she wasn’t certain what she was to +do with, but she felt anything was preferable to +coming out into society in New York, which was +the inevitable sequence the moment she was +through with college.</p> + +<p>Billie rather resented the guest at the Square +Deal as did many of Molly’s youthful friends.</p> + +<p>“There’s never any seeing Molly alone now,” +she grumbled.</p> + +<p>“Never!” agreed Mary Neil, a red-headed +junior who had what she termed a “mash” on +Mrs. Green. Molly, being totally unaware of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +this, was ever causing the poor girl to turn green +with jealousy.</p> + +<p>“To think of her stopping the ‘Would-be’s’ +just because Miss Oldham’s mother died, and she +didn’t even think enough of her to put on mourning,” +asserted Lilian Swift as she peeped in the +mirror over the mantel to adjust her own very becoming +black and white hat, worn as second +mourning for a great-aunt who had left her a +legacy.</p> + +<p>These girls were assembled in the library at +the Greens’, waiting to see their friend. That +evening the “Would-be Authors’ Club” was to +have met, but Molly, their president, had felt it +best to postpone it because of Nance’s recent bereavement. +The “Would-be Authors” was now +a flourishing organization with a waiting list that +almost stretched around the campus. They met +together for mutual benefit and encouragement +and sometimes for discouragement. The only +requisite for membership was to scribble at fiction. +On coming into this club it was necessary +to pledge oneself to take a criticism like a man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +No matter how severe a drubbing your story +called forth, you must smile and smile.</p> + +<p>“Girls, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but +Mildred had got chewing-gum in her hair and I +simply had to get it out before her whole wig +stuck together,” said Molly as she came in with +Dodo in her arms and Mildred trotting after her +like a veritable little colt following its dam. +“My friend, Miss Oldham, will be down in a +moment.”</p> + +<p>The girls looked at one another meaningly.</p> + +<p>“I want all of you to like my friend,” continued +Molly, as though she could divine their +thoughts. “She has had a hard time and she +needs the companionship of young people more +than anyone I know.”</p> + +<p>Molly then told them of Nance’s devotion to +her mother and father, of her thwarted ambition, +of her unselfishness and cleverness.</p> + +<p>“It seems strange for her not to wear mourning +for her mother,” said Lilian.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it does, but when you think of it, +what you wear has nothing to do with your feelings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +It is in a way part of Nance’s unselfishness +that she did not put on mourning. Her +father disliked it, her mother could not abide it, +and as she said, it meant a new outfit which she +could ill afford. It is a great deal easier just to +give up to grief and exude gloom than it is to be +cheerful and radiate light and happiness.”</p> + +<p>Molly was in a measure irritated by Lilian’s +criticism of her beloved Nance, but Lilian was a +person who always spoke her mind no matter +what was involved, and she had a certain sturdiness +and honesty of opinion that disarmed +one.</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s all right,” she answered bluntly, +“but while she is being so unselfish about her +clothes, why doesn’t she spunk up a bit about the +‘Would-be Authors?’”</p> + +<p>“What about them?”</p> + +<p>“Why, postponing the meeting because she is +in such deep grief.”</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t Nance. I am responsible for +that foolishness. She only found out about it to-day +and declares she will go back to Vermont if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +dare make a single change in my way of living. +I want all of you to get messages to the club to +be sure and come this evening.”</p> + +<p>“Bully for Nance!” cried Billie McKym.</p> + +<p>Nance came into the room just as Billie was +cheering her.</p> + +<p>“I’m mighty glad it’s bully for me, if I’m the +Nance. But why ‘Bully for Nance’?”</p> + +<p>“Just because you are here with Mrs. Green +and can come to our literary club this evening,” +said Billie with a straight face.</p> + +<p>“But I am no scribbler,” declared Nance.</p> + +<p>“But you are a wonderful critic,” said Molly. +“Among so many scribblers it is well to have one +sane person willing to compose the audience. It +is my turn to read to-night and I want your criticism.”</p> + +<p>“If I can come in that capacity, I am more +than willing,” smiled Nance as she settled herself +to her knitting.</p> + +<p>“I remember many times you saved me from +making a bombastic goose of myself on my college +themes,” laughed Molly. “What I flattered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +myself was pathos, under your cool judgment +turned out often to be bathos.”</p> + +<p>Molly leaned over and gave her friend an affectionate +pat. At this show of love, Mary Neil +jumped up so suddenly that she upset little Mildred, +who was sitting on the sofa by her, and +without saying a word rushed from the room.</p> + +<p>“What on earth!” exclaimed Molly.</p> + +<p>“The suddenness of Mary,—that’s all,” declared +Billie.</p> + +<p>“Good title for a story!” said Lilian, getting +out a note-book.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you scribblers!” laughed Nance.</p> + +<p>Little Mildred was picked up and comforted +and in a short while the visitors took their departure.</p> + +<p>“Molly, do you know what was the matter +with that interesting looking red-headed girl?” +asked Nance as they settled to the delights of a +twilight chat, while Nance busily plied her knitting +needles on the long drab scarf that seemed to +grow under her agile fingers like magic.</p> + +<p>“I have no idea.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>“She was jealous of me. I noticed how she +looked at me when I came in and she never said a +single word while all of us were chatting. Then +the moment you gave me a little pat, she jumped +up as though she had received an electric shock +and fled.”</p> + +<p>“Absurd! I hate to think it of Mary.”</p> + +<p>“It’s true all the same. Didn’t you know she +was crazy about you?”</p> + +<p>“No, and I don’t want to know it. A girl had +better be beau-crazy than have these silly cases +with other girls. I am going to put a stop to it +in some way.”</p> + +<p>“How, may I ask?”</p> + +<p>“I might do like Peg Woffington and put my +hair up in curl papers and appear at my very +worst.”</p> + +<p>“Well, dearie, your worst might be so much +better than some person’s best that that might not +work. But don’t think I’ve got a case on +you.”</p> + +<p>“Never! We were foolish enough college +girls but we never were that foolish. I can’t remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +anyone in our crowd having these silly +mashes. Can you?”</p> + +<p>“Unless it was the affair Judy Kean had with +Adele Windsor. Do you remember when poor +Judy turned up with her hair dyed a blue +black?”</p> + +<p>“Do I?” and the friends went off into peals of +laughter just as Mrs. McLean ushered herself +into the firelit room.</p> + +<p>“The door was open so I came right in,” announced +that dear woman. She caught Nance’s +hands in a strong grasp and drew the girl towards +her. “I am glad to see you, my dear,” she +said simply. Her well-remembered Scotch accent +fell pleasingly on Nance’s ear.</p> + +<p>“The violets were lovely. I thank you so +much,” faltered Nance.</p> + +<p>Molly wondered at the embarrassment of her +friend. She had longed to talk to Nance about +Andy McLean but did not know how to begin. +She shrank from prying into her guest’s affairs, +but the eternal feminine in her was on the alert +for the romance she had no doubt was there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And now I must tell you all about Andy,” +said his fond mother. “I know you want to hear +about him,—eh?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed we do,” put in Molly quickly, while +Nance tried to go on with her knitting, but I am +afraid dropped more stitches than she picked up.</p> + +<p>“He has resigned from the hospital staff in +New York where he was doing so splendidly and +is to go to France as an ambulance surgeon.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” came involuntarily from Nance.</p> + +<p>“Splendid!” cried Molly.</p> + +<p>“It is what he should do,” declared his Spartan +mother. “His father and I would not have +it otherwise. Of course, the States will be at +war before the month is out and Andy might wait +and enlist with his own country, but in the meantime +he is needed, and sadly needed, by my country, +mine and his father’s.”</p> + +<p>“He will come see you before he sails, will he +not?” asked Molly.</p> + +<p>“Of course! He may spend a month with +us.”</p> + +<p>“That will be splendid indeed.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nance said nothing, but the flames that sprang +from the wood fire lit up a very rosy countenance.</p> + +<p>“I must be going now. I only ran in for a +moment to bring the news of my Andy and to see +this little friend again. Come to see me, both of +you,” and the doctor’s wife was gone.</p> + +<p>“Molly! I should never have come to you!” +said Nance the moment the door closed on their +visitor. Katy, the Irish nurse, had come for the +baby. Little Mildred had fallen asleep, her head +in Nance’s lap.</p> + +<p>“My darling girl! Why?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t spoil Andy’s visit to his mother. +If I am here, it will be spoiled.”</p> + +<p>“Nance, how can you say so?”</p> + +<p>“Because it is the truth. He will have to see +me, and he hates me.”</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t!”</p> + +<p>“He left me two years ago in a rage and swore +it was over for good and all; and he couldn’t +have said such things to me if he had not hated +me.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And you—do you hate him?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not!” and again the flickering fire +showed off her blushes.</p> + +<p>“Did you say nothing to him but nice +things?”</p> + +<p>“We-ll, not exactly,—but he said the things he +said first.”</p> + +<p>“Were the things he said worse than the things +you said?”</p> + +<p>“No!” with a toss of her independent head, +“I gave him back as good as he sent.”</p> + +<p>“You shouldn’t have done it. You knew how +the things he said hurt, and with your superior +knowledge of what it meant to be wounded, you +were cruel to hurt him so.”</p> + +<p>“But he should have known! That kind of +philosophy is above me. Suppose the Allies conducted +their warfare under those principles, what +would become of us? Germany hit first and +France and Belgium knew how it hurt, and so +they should not have hit back. There is a big +hole in your reasoning, honey.”</p> + +<p>“But that is not the same. Germany and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +France didn’t love one another, while you and +Andy——”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is all over now!” and Nance composed +herself and tried to go on with her knitting. +Molly thought in her heart perhaps it was not so +“over” as Nance thought.</p> + +<p>“Why did you and Andy quarrel?”</p> + +<p>“I had promised when Father no longer +needed me that I would—would—marry him. +How could I tell that Mother would want to +come live with me when poor Father was gone? +Andy came as soon as he learned of Father’s +death and seemed to think I could pick right up +and marry him, and when I objected to such unseemly +haste he said I had been flirting with him. +The idea of such a thing! He got it into his +head that Dr. Flint, the physician who had been +with us through poor Father’s long illness, was +the cause of my holding back.”</p> + +<p>“A young doctor?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es!”</p> + +<p>“Was he—was he—attentive?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps—well, yes—he did propose to me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +but I had no idea of accepting him. Andy should +have known me well enough to realize that I +couldn’t be so low as to jilt him. When Andy +came, Mother had just told me that she never expected +to leave me again. I never did have a +chance to tell this to him, he was so angry and so +jealous. He wanted me to marry him immediately +and leave Vermont,—and how could I when +Mother was home, sick and miserable and reproaching +herself for having been away from +Father so much?”</p> + +<p>“Did your mother not know of your engagement +to Andy?”</p> + +<p>“No-o! You see, poor Mother was not—was +not the kind of mother one confided in much. +Afterwards, when I nursed her through all those +months, she was so softened if I had had anything +to confide I should have done so, but then there +was nothing left to confide.”</p> + +<p>“Poor old Nance!” said Molly lovingly.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m not sorry for myself a bit. No +doubt I might have gone whining to Andy and +made him take back all the things he said, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +am no whiner. It was a good thing we found out +in time we could say such things to each other!”</p> + +<p>“Maybe it was a good thing to find out in time +how it hurt to say such things and have such +things said to one, and then it would never happen +again,” said the hopeful Molly.</p> + +<p>Nance divined that Molly was thinking how +best she could bring these two estranged lovers +together, and determined to frustrate any matchmaking +plans the young matron might be hatching.</p> + +<p>“Promise me, Molly, you will not say a thing +to Andy or to anyone. It is something that is +hopelessly mixed up and my pride would never +recover if Andy should know that I cared.”</p> + +<p>“You do care then?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I care! I never had very many +friends and if I cared for Andy enough to engage +myself to him, I could not get over it ever, I am +afraid. But you have not promised yet.”</p> + +<p>“I promise,” said Molly sadly. “But if you +love Andy, it does seem so foolish——”</p> + +<p>“But remember you have promised!”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER III<br /> + +<small>THE WOULD-BE’S</small></h2> + + +<p>What a chattering there was as the crowd of +girls gathered for the weekly meeting of their +literary club! Professor Green beat a hasty retreat +from the library. He declared that listening +to schoolgirl fiction was no treat to him. Besides +there was so much to be read concerning the +war in that month of March, 1917, and little time +in which to read it. War was an obsession with +Edwin Green. Waking and sleeping it was ever +with him. He regretted his being unable to enlist +as a private in the French army, so strong +were his sympathies with that struggling nation. +Certain that his country would finally drop its +neutrality and come out strongly for democracy +and the Allies, he could hardly wait for the final +declaration of war. He had his den, safe from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +the encroachments of the “Would-be Authors’ +Club,” and there he ensconced himself with +enough newspapers and magazines to furnish +reading matter for the whole of Wellington.</p> + +<p>The rules of the club were as follows: Two +pieces of original fiction must be read at each +meeting. A chairman for the evening must be +appointed by the two performers. All manuscript +must be written legibly if not typewritten, +so that the club need not have to wait while the +author tried to read her own writing. Criticism +must be given and taken in good humor and good +faith.</p> + +<p>Molly, in forming this club, had endeavored +to have in it only those students who were really +interested in short story writing and ambitious to +perfect themselves, but in spite of her ideals there +were some members who were in it for the fun they +got out of it or for a certain prestige they fancied +they would gain from these weekly meetings at +the home of the popular wife of a popular professor. +These slackers were constantly bringing +excuses for plots when their time came to read,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +or trying to work off on the club old essays and +theses on various subjects not in the least related +to fiction.</p> + +<p>“You are to read this evening, I believe, +Mary,” said Molly to Mary Neil as the library +filled. “You missed last time and so got put on +this week.”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I—that is—you see, I sat up all night +trying to finish a story but couldn’t get it to suit +me.”</p> + +<p>“Did you bring it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, it was too much in the rough.”</p> + +<p>“That’s too bad, Mary!” cried Lilian Swift. +“There are plenty of us who had things to read +and you cut us out of the chance.”</p> + +<p>“Surely some of you must have brought +things,” said Molly, trying not to smile, knowing +full well that in almost every pocket of the really +and truly “Would-be’s” some gem of purest ray +serene in the shape of a manuscript was only +waiting to be dived for. The self-conscious expression +on at least a dozen faces put her mind at +rest in regard to the program of the evening.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It seems I have the appointing of a chairman +for the meeting in my power, since the other +reader has fallen out of the running,” said Molly, +looking as severely as she could look at the sullen, +handsome Mary Neil, “so I appoint Billie McKym.”</p> + +<p>Billie, a most ardent scribbler, had been drawn +into the procession of short-story fiends by +her dear friend Thelma Larson, who was destined +to become famous as a writer of fiction. +Billie had no great talent but she possessed a +fresh breezy line of dialogue that covered a multitude +of sins in the way of plot formation, motivation, +crisis, climax and what not.</p> + +<p>“Remember, Billie, the chair is not the floor,” +teased one of the members.</p> + +<p>Billie was a great talker and although she was +no pronounced success as a writer of fiction, she +was a good critic of the performance of others.</p> + +<p>“Just for that I’ll ask you, Miss Smarty, to +serve as vice, and when I have something important +to say I’ll put you in the chair for keeps.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, let Mrs. Green begin and stop squabbling,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +demanded a girl who had a plot she was +dying to divulge and devoutly hoped she would +be called on when their hostess got through.</p> + +<p>“Then begin!” and Billie rapped for order.</p> + +<p>Molly took her seat by the reading-lamp and +opened her manuscript. Having to read before +the club was just as exciting to Molly as to the +veriest freshman. Her cheeks flushed and her +hand trembled a wee bit.</p> + +<p>“Silly of me to get stage fright but I can’t +help it,” she laughed.</p> + +<p>“How do you reckon we feel then?” drawled +a little girl from Alabama, who only the week before +had been torn limb from limb by the relentless +“Would-be’s.”</p> + +<p>“This is a story that I have sent on many a +journey and it always comes back to its doting +mother. I have received several personal letters +about it——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, wonderful!” came from several members.</p> + +<p>“Only think, the most encouraging thing that +has happened to me yet was once a Western<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +magazine kept my manuscript almost three +weeks,” sighed a willowy maiden.</p> + +<p>“Now please criticize it just as severely as you +can. I want to sell it, and something must be +done to it before the editors will take it,” begged +Molly, getting over her ridiculous stage fright.</p> + +<p>“Fire away!” said parliamentary Billie.</p> + +<p>“How long is it?” asked Lilian Swift.</p> + +<p>“About five thousand words, I think!”</p> + +<p>“Whew!” blew the girl who hoped to get her +plot in edgewise.</p> + +<p>There was a general laugh and then Molly +cleared her throat for action. “First, let me tell +you I saw a clipping in the <cite>New York Times</cite> +asking for Fairy Godmothers for the soldiers. +That was what put the idea in my head. The +title is: ‘Fairy Godmothers Wanted.’”</p> + +<p>You could have heard a pin drop while Molly +read, and occasionally one did hear the scratching +of a pencil wielded by a member who was on a +critical war-path.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER IV<br /> + +<small>FAIRY GODMOTHERS WANTED</small></h2> + + +<p>The ballroom was crowded but very quiet. +The belle of the ball was the night nurse, deftly +accomplishing the many duties that fall to +the share of a night nurse. A letter must be +written for a poor Gascon who had lost his right +arm; a Bedouin chief must be watered every five +minutes; a little red-headed Irishman begging +for morphine to ease his pain, and a sad Cockney +lad sobbing because he was “’omesick for ’Ammersmith,” +must be comforted.</p> + +<p>The beautiful old château had been converted +into a hospital early in the war and the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salle de +bal</i> was given over to the convalescents. The +convalescent male is a very difficult proposition, +and the little nurse sometimes felt her burden was +greater than she could bear. There was so much +to do for these sick soldiers besides nurse them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +One thing, she must good-naturedly submit to +being made love to in many different languages. +She could stand all but the Bedouin chief.</p> + +<p>“He seems so like our darkeys at home,” she +had whispered to the one American who was getting +well rather faster than he liked to admit.</p> + +<p>This American wanted to get well and be back +in the trenches, but who was to make love to the +pretty night nurse in good old American when he +left the convalescent ward?</p> + +<p>“You promised to do something for me to-night. +Don’t forget! You must be almost +through with all of these fellows.”</p> + +<p>“Ready in a minute!” She flitted down between +the rows of cots, tucking in the covers here, +plumping up a pillow there. The Bedouin was +watered for the last time that night and finally +closed his rolling black eyes.</p> + +<p>“Now, what is it?” she asked, sinking down +on a stool by the American’s bed, which was +placed in an alcove at one end of the great salon. +“If it is writing a letter, thank goodness, it won’t +have to be in the second person singular in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +French. Why do you suppose they teach us +such formal French at school? I can’t <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tutoyer</i> +for the life of me.”</p> + +<p>“Same here! <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Je t’aime</i>’s all I know. But I +don’t want you to write a letter for me. I want +you to read some. But first I must know your +really truly name. I—I—like you too much +just to have to call you nurse.”</p> + +<p>“Mary Grubb!”</p> + +<p>“No! Not really?”</p> + +<p>“Yes! I’d like to know what is the matter +with my name. It is a perfectly good name, I +reckon.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mary is beautiful—but—the other! +Never mind, you can change it.”</p> + +<p>“I have no desire to do so, at least not for +many a day. I think Grubb is especially nice. +It suggests Sally Lunn and batter bread.”</p> + +<p>“There now, I would know you are from the +South even if your dear little ‘reckons’ didn’t +come popping out every now and then. Do you +know, I have a friend who lives in Kentucky, and +when the war is over I have been planning to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +see her, but now—but now—I am afraid she +won’t want to see me.”</p> + +<p>“You mean the scars?” and she looked pityingly +at the young man and put her firm little +hand on his head. “Why, they will not amount +to much. They will just make you look interesting. +Your eyes will be well, I just know they +will. Look at this long scar that has given the +most trouble! It has turned to a pleasing pink +and will be almost gone in a few months. You +see you are so healthy.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t altogether the scars. If you think +they are pretty, maybe she will, too. There is +something else. I want to read over all this +packet of letters before I decide something. You +had better begin or that big, black, bounding beggar +over there will begin to whine for water +again. After you read the letters, maybe I will +tell you the other reason why my friend in Kentucky +might not want to see me.”</p> + +<p>He took from under his pillow a packet of little +blue letters, tightly tied with a piece of twine.</p> + +<p>“Here they are! These letters have meant a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +lot to me while I was in the trenches. They still +mean a lot to me. They were written by my +Fairy Godmother.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Are they love letters?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed! I wouldn’t ask a woman to +read another woman’s love letters. I wouldn’t +let anyone but you read these letters, but my eyes +are too punk to read them myself and I have to—to +hear them to decide something, something very +important.”</p> + +<p>“All right! A nurse is a kind of father confessor +and what one hears professionally is sacred.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, I am not thinking of you as a +nurse.”</p> + +<p>“But I am thinking of you as a patient.”</p> + +<p>She slipped the top letter from the packet and +turned it over. “So your name is Stephen +Scott!”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you know my name, either? How +funny!”</p> + +<p>“I only know the names of the patients who +have charts, and you are too well to waste a chart<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +on. We nurses call you the convalescent American. +Sure these are not love letters?”</p> + +<p>“Of course!” impatiently. “But if you don’t +want to read them to me, just say so. Maybe +you are tired. Of course you are. You look +pale and your little hand is trembling.”</p> + +<p>“No, no! I am not tired! Let me begin.”</p> + +<p>The <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salle de bal</i> of the old château was very +quiet. The wounded soldiers were dropping off +to sleep one by one. Even the Bedouin chief had +stopped rolling his eyes and was softly snoring. +In a low clear voice she read the letters.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">My dear Godson:</span></p> + +<p>It is so wonderful to be a Godmother that I +can hardly contain myself for joy. It is through +an advertisement I saw in a New York paper, +headed Fairy Godmothers Wanted, that I happen +to have you and you happen to have me. I consider +our introduction quite regular as it came through +the wife of a great general.</p> + +<p>I wonder how you like belonging to me? I wonder +if you are as alone in the world and homeless +as I am. I wonder if you are big or little, dark or +fair, old or young. I wonder all kinds of things +about you,—after all, it makes no difference, any of +these things. You are my Godson and every day I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +am going to pray for you and think about you. I +am going to send you presents and write you long +letters and send you newspapers. The only trouble +about it is by the time I get hold of English papers +they will be weeks and weeks old. I wonder if +American magazines and papers would appeal to +you. I wonder what kind of presents you would +like,—not beaded antimacassars and not mouchoir +cases surely. I will knit you a sweater maybe, but +I am not very fond of knitting.</p> + +<p>This business of being a Fairy Godmother is a +very serious one, more serious than being a real +mother, I believe. A real mother can at least do +something towards forming the character of her +child, but a Fairy Godmother has her child presented +to her and takes it as the husband used to +take his bride in the old English prayer book: +“With all her debts and scandals upon her.” The +worst of it is that she is ignorant what those debts +and scandals are. I don’t even know what kind of +smoke to send you. Are you middle-aged and sedate +and do you smoke a corn-cob pipe? Are you +young and giddy and do you live on cigarettes? A +terrible possibility has entered into my mind! Are +you one of those awful persons that uses what our +darkeys call “eatin’ tobacco”? If so, I shall begin +to train you immediately.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you want to know something about me. +There is not much to know. I am an orphan of +independent means and character. Being the first, +enables me to be the second, which sounds like a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +riddle but isn’t. You see I have rafts and oodlums +of kin, and if I did not have an income of my own +they would step in and coerce me even more than +they do. I said in the beginning that I was homeless. +I am not really that, but the trouble is I have +too many homes. I must spend the winter with +Aunt Sally and the spring with Cousin Kate. +Cousin Maria and Uncle Bruce want me to take +White Sulphur by storm with them as chaperones; +and so it is from one year’s end to the other, kind +relations planning for me. I am bored to death +with it all and am even now preparing a bomb to +throw in this camp of overzealous kin. But I’ll tell +you about that later,—that is, if you want to hear +about it. I may be boring you stiff. If I am, it +is an easy matter for you to repudiate me and tell +Mrs. Johnson to get you a more agreeable Godmother.</p> + +<p>My numerous family does not at all approve of +my being a Godmother. They think I am too young +for the responsibility and have entered upon it too +lightly. I even heard Aunt Sally whisper to +Cousin Maria: “Just like her mother!” That +means in their minds that I am headstrong and difficult. +You see my mother was also of independent +means and character. Also (I whisper this) she +was not a Southerner. That is as serious in a +Southerner’s eyes as not being British is in yours. +They think it is very forward of me to be writing +to a man what has not been properly introduced. +Uncle Bruce suggests that you may not even be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +born. I tell him soldiers don’t have to be born and +that the bravest soldiers that were ever known +sprang up from dragon’s teeth.</p> + +<p>I am sending you as my first present all kinds of +tobacco, even plug. I must not let my prejudices +get away with me. If my dear Godson likes “eatin’ +tobacco,” he shall have it. If you don’t indulge in +it, give it to some soldier less dainty. For my part, +I should think the trenches would be dirty enough +without adding to them.</p> + +<p>I want to tell you that I like your name. I think +Stephen Scott sounds very manly and upstanding, +somehow. I am hoping for a letter from you just to +give me an inkling of your tastes. Of course I +know one of the duties of a Fairy Godmother is +not to worry her charge, and I don’t want to worry +you but to help you. I think of you in those damp, +nasty ditches eating all kinds of food, served in all +kinds of ways. (I am sure what should be hot is +cold, and what should be cold is hot.) And when +I sit down to batter-bread and fried chicken I can +hardly force it down, I do so want you to have it +instead of me.</p> + +<p><span class="rght3">Your affectionate Godmother,</span><br /> +<span class="rght1">Polly Nelson.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>The night nurse quietly folded up the first +letter and slipped it back in its blue envelope. +She had a whimsical, amused expression on her +face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What are you smiling over? Don’t you +think that is a nice letter?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”</p> + +<p>“But you didn’t say it was. I think that is a +sweet letter. I tell you it meant a lot to me. Of +course, I am not the homeless Tommy she +thought I was. I fancy I have as many Aunt +Sallies and Cousin Marias as she has, but they +happen to be in New England.”</p> + +<p>“You are not an orphan, then!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! I’m an orphan all right enough, +but I am related to half of Massachusetts and all +of Boston.”</p> + +<p>“Did you tell your Fairy Godmother that?”</p> + +<p>“No,—that’s what makes me feel so bad. I +was afraid she would stop being my Godmother +if she found out I was—well, not exactly poor, so +I—I didn’t exactly lie——”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t exactly tell the truth, either,” and +the night nurse curled her pretty lip and looked +disgusted.</p> + +<p>“Oh, please don’t be angry with me, too. I +know she will be. I have simply got to tell her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +the truth about myself. I did let her know I am +an American. I am going to write her a letter +just as soon as I can see to do it. But go on with +the next, please. You are sure it is not tiring +you too much?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” and the night nurse slipped out another.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">My dear Godson:</span></p> + +<p>It was very nice of you to answer my letter +so promptly. I am so glad you are an American +and do not chew tobacco. You must not feel compelled +to answer all my letters because you must +be very busy and I have very little to do, so little +that I am becoming very restless. I have thrown +the bomb in the camp of the enemy, my kin. They +are shattered into smithereens. I am going to enter +a hospital, take training, and just as soon as I am +capable go to France with the Red Cross nurses. +I should like to go immediately but I want to be a +help not a hindrance, and they say all the untrained +persons who butt in on the war zone are a nuisance. +Six months of training should make me fit, don’t +you think? But how should you know?</p> + +<p>I am very happy at the thought of being of some +use. I owe it all to you, my dear Godson. If I had +not been presented with you I should never have +thought of such a thing. Just as soon as I realized +that over in the trenches was a human being who +wanted to hear from me and whom I could help, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +began to take a new interest in the war and all the +soldiers, and then I began to feel that maybe I, insignificant +little I, might be of some use to those +poor soldiers, some use besides just knitting foolish +caps and mittens and sending the <cite>Saturday Evening +Post</cite> and cigarettes. I only wish I could go +immediately. My training begins to-morrow. Aunt +Sally and Cousin Maria feel that it is a terrible +blot on the family name. They are sure someone +will say that I am doing this because I am not a +success in society, although they say over and over +that I am. I don’t know whether I am or not, all +I know is that society is not a success with me. +Uncle Bruce is rather nice about it all.</p> + +<p>There are so many I’s in this letter I am mortified. +I believe writing to a Godson in the trenches +is almost like keeping a diary. I am sending you +some cards and poker chips (but you mustn’t play +for money). I’d hate to think that my presents +exerted a poor moral influence on my dear Godson. +Would you mind just dropping a hint as to what +kind of presents would be most acceptable? I have +never been in the habit of giving presents to men +and the kinds of presents some of my friends give +would not be very appropriate, it seems to me. +Silver match boxes and cigarette holders would not +be very useful, nor would silk socks with initials +embroidered on them be much better. Do you like +chocolate drops and poetry?</p> + +<p><span class="rght3">Your affectionate Fairy Godmother,</span><br /> +<span class="rght1">Polly Nelson.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>The night nurse laughed outright at the close +of the letter and Stephen Scott reached out for +the packet from which she was extracting a third +blue envelope.</p> + +<p>“If you are going to make fun of them, you +can stop.”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t making fun. I was just thinking +what funny presents girls do give men.”</p> + +<p>“Well, so they do, but my little Godmother +gave me bully presents,—cigarettes to burn, +home-made molasses candy and beaten biscuit. +She had lots of imagination in the presents she +sent and the blessed child never did burden me +with a work-box but sent me a gross of safety-pins +that beat all the sewing kits on earth. +I don’t believe you like my Godmother +much.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you? Well, I do.”</p> + +<p>“You should like her because somehow you +remind me of her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Have you seen her?”</p> + +<p>“Only in my mind’s eye. I begged her for a +picture of herself but she has never sent it. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +has promised it, though. You see I got to answering +her letters in the same spirit in which she +wrote to me, only I was not quite so frank, I am +afraid. She told me everything about herself +while I told her only my thoughts. I never did +tell her I was not a homeless soldier of fortune. +She thinks I am absolutely friendless and dependent +on my pay as a private for my living. +Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a sou—at least I +have felt that way—but now——”</p> + +<p>“But now what?”</p> + +<p>“But now I don’t think it is so bad to have a +little tin,” and he held one of the little stained +hands in his for a moment.</p> + +<p>She gently withdrew it and opened a third letter. +This was full of hospital experiences and +so were all that followed. The tone of them became +more intimate and friendly. The desire to +serve was ever uppermost—just to get in the +War Zone and help.</p> + +<p>“I got awfully stuck on her, somehow,” confessed +the man. “She was so sweet and so girlish—I +did not say so for fear of scaring her off,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +but I used to write her pretty warm ones, I am +afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Why afraid?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know?”</p> + +<p>“How should I know?”</p> + +<p>“Why, honey, you must see that I am head +over heels in love with you. I oughtn’t to be telling +it to you when I have written my little Godmother +that as soon as the war is over I am going +to find her and tell her the same thing. But, +somehow, I was loving her only on paper and in +my mind; but you—you—I love you with every +bit of my heart, soul and body.” He caught her +hand and all of the poor little slim blue letters +slipped from the twine and scattered over the +floor.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the poor little letters!” she cried. “Is +that all they mean to you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, honey, they meant a lot to me and still +do, but they are just letters and you are—you.”</p> + +<p>“But how about the letters you wrote Miss +Polly Nelson? Are they just letters to her and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +nothing more? Don’t you think it is possible +that she may have treasured your letters, especially +the pretty warm ones, and be looking forward +to the end of the war with the same eagerness +that you have felt up to—say——”</p> + +<p>“The minute I laid eyes on you. At first I +used to dream maybe you were she, but I began +to feel that she must be much—younger—somehow, +than you. You are so capable, so mature in +a way. She is little more than a child and you +are a grown woman.”</p> + +<p>“I am twenty-one—but the war ages one.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean you look old—I just mean you +seem so sensible.”</p> + +<p>“And Miss Nelson didn’t?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean that, I just mean she seemed +immature. But suppose you read the last letter. +And couldn’t you do it with one hand and let me +hold the other?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not!” and the night nurse stooped +and gathered the scattered letters. Leaning over +may have accounted for the rosy hue that overspread +her countenance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You certainly read her writing mighty easily. +I had a hard time at first. I think she writes a +rotten fist, although there is plenty of character +in it, dear little Godmother!”</p> + +<p>“Humph! Do you think so? I wouldn’t tell +her that if I were you—I mean that you think her +fist is rotten.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not, but begin, please, and say—couldn’t +you manage with one hand?”</p> + +<p>But the night nurse was adamant and drew +herself up very primly and began to read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">My dear Godson:</span></p> + +<p>I am afraid gratitude has got the better of +you. You must not feel that because a girl in +America has written you a pile of foolish letters +and sent you a few little paltry presents, you must +send her such very loverlike letters in return. I +am disappointed in you, Godson. I had an idea +that you were steadier. Just suppose I were a designing +female who was going to hold you up and +drag you through the wounded-affections court? +There is quite enough in your last two letters to +justify such a proceeding. It may be only your +poverty that will restrain me. In the first place, +you don’t know me from Adam or rather Eve. I +may be a Fairy Godmother with a crooked back +and a black cat, who prefers a broom-stick to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +limousine; I may have a hare-lip and a mean disposition; +I may write vers libre and believe in dress +reform. In fact I am a pig in a poke and you are a +very foolish person to think you want to carry me +off without ever looking at me. I won’t say that I +don’t want to see you and know you, because I do. +I have been very honest with you in my letters because, +as I told you once, it has seemed almost like +keeping a diary to write to you, and I think a person +who is not honest in a diary is as bad as the +person who cheats at solitaire. When the war is +over if you want to look me up you will find me in +Louisville, Kentucky. When you do find me, I +want you to be nothing but my Godson. You may +not like me a bit and I may find you unbearable,—somehow, +I don’t believe I shall, though. I do hope +you will like me, too. One thing I promise—that +is, not to fall in love with anyone else until I have +looked you over. And you—I fancy you see no females +to fall in love with.</p> + +<p>I never let myself think about your getting +killed. As Fairy Godmother I cast a spell about +you to protect you. There are times when I almost +wish you could be safely wounded. Those +are the times when I doubt the efficacy of my +prayers and the powers of my fairy gifts.</p> + +<p>And now for the news: I am going to the front! +I have worked it by strategy. A girl I know has +had all her papers made out ready to join the Red +Cross nurses, and now at the last minute her young +man has stepped in and persuaded her to marry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +him instead. I have cajoled the papers from her +and am leaving in a few hours. Aunt Sally and +Cousin Kate, Uncle Bruce and Cousin Maria are +half demented. They don’t know how I worked it +or I am sure they would have the law on me for +perjury. I am free, white, and twenty-one now, and +they could control me in no other way. Good-by, +Godson! I wonder if we will meet somewhere in +France. I will write you when I can, but I am +afraid I shall not be able to send any more presents +for a while.</p> + +<p><span class="rght3">Your affectionate Godmother.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>“Now don’t you hate and despise me for telling +you what I did just now? You see she says +she will at least not fall in love with anyone else +until she looks me over, and think what I have +done! What must I do? I am going to try not +to tell you I love you any more until that other +girl knows what a blackguard I am, but you must +understand all the time that I do.”</p> + +<p>“I understand nothing, Mr. Stephen Scott. +I am simply the night nurse in the convalescent +ward and you have asked me to read some letters +to you, and I have read them; and now it is my +duty to forget what is in them, and I am going to +do it,—I have done it. All I can say is that you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +might give Miss Polly Nelson the chance to find +someone else she likes better than she does you +before you are so quick to take for granted she +will stick to her bargain, too. If there is any +jilting going on, we Southern girls rather prefer +to be the jilters than the jiltees.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t say jilting! It isn’t fair. Please be +good to me! I am so miserable.”</p> + +<p>The night nurse smiled in spite of herself and +felt his pulse.</p> + +<p>“There now! Just as I thought! You have +worked yourself up into an abnormal pulse and I +shall have to start a chart on you.”</p> + +<p>“Abnormal nothing! How is a fellow’s pulse +to remain normal when you put your dear little +fingers on his wrist? But I forgot! I am not +going to make love to you until I can let my Godmother +know. Maybe she has met some grand +English Tommy by this time——” And then +he groaned aloud and cried: “But I don’t want +her to do that, either!”</p> + +<p>“Blessed if I’m not in love with two girls,” he +thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>The night nurse sat quietly down to her charts +after having gone the rounds of her ward. All +was quiet. The convalescent soldiers were sleeping +peacefully, dreaming of home, she hoped. +Scott stirred restlessly now and then. He could +not sleep but watched the busy little stained hand +of the night nurse as it glided rapidly over the +charts. She had no light but that of a guttering +candle, carefully shaded from her patients’ eyes, +but Scott could see her well-poised head and fine +profile as she bent over her writing. How lovely +she was! Would she ever listen to him? How +she stood up for her sex,—and still she did not +exactly repulse him. What a strange name for +a girl like that to have! Grubb! It was preposterous. +Indeed, he felt it his duty to make +her change that name as soon as possible. Polly +Nelson is a pretty name—dear little Godmother! +Would she despise him, too, like this other girl? +But did this other one despise him?</p> + +<p>The night nurse made her rounds again and +then left the ward for a moment. When she returned, +she came to the American’s bedside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>“A letter has just come for you, Mr. Scott.”</p> + +<p>“For me? Splendid! Will you read it to +me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you cannot possibly see to do it yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I might, but I’d rather not.”</p> + +<p>“It is in the same rotten fist of those I read +you to-night.”</p> + +<p>“My Fairy Godmother! I—I—believe I can +see to read that myself.”</p> + +<p>She handed him the letter. Her hand was +trembling a little and so was his. She brought +the guttering candle and he opened his letter.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="rght2"><cite>Somewhere in France.</cite></span><br /></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Godson:</span></p> + +<p>I have always been so frank with you that I +feel I must make a confession. I promised you in +my last letter, the one I wrote just before I left +home, that I would not fall in love with anyone +until after the war, when you were to present yourself +in Louisville and we were to view each other +for the first time. Dear Godson—— I have not +kept my word. They say a man falls in love with +his nurse often because of the feeling he has for +his mother. She makes it seem as though he were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +a little child again. I reckon a nurse falls in love +with her patient because he seems so like a little +boy. She loves him first because of the maternal +instinct. Be that as it may, I am in love with one +of my patients. I tell you this fearing you may +be wounded and you may fall in the hands of a +cap and apron, and from a feeling of noblesse +oblige you may not grasp the happiness within your +reach.</p> + +<p>God bless you, my dear Godson!</p> + +<p><span class="rght3">Always,</span><br /> +<span class="rght1">Your Fairy Godmother.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>P. S.—He is an American.<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>A great tear rolled down the scarred cheek of +the young soldier and splashed on the signature. +Then something happened that made him sit up +very straight in his cot and stretch out a shaking +hand for the night nurse. She was by his side in +a moment.</p> + +<p>“Look! Look! The ink is not dry yet. See +where that tear dropped! Dry ink would not +float off like that!” He turned the sheet over. +It was a chart.</p> + +<p>“But you—you—little Fairy Godmother! +Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“There is only one American in my ward.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But you said your name was Grubb!”</p> + +<p>“That’s my official name. Mary Grubb was +the girl whose place I got with the Red Cross. +Do you know, you hurt my feelings terribly when +you said my fist was rotten?”</p> + +<p>And Stephen Scott, holding the little stained +and roughened hand in his, wondered that he ever +could have made such a break.</p> + +<p>“Thank God, you are just one girl, after all!” +he cried.</p> + +<p>But the night nurse wished that there were two +of her for a while at least: one to stay by the bedside +of the convalescent American and one to +make out the charts that must be got ready for +the morning rounds of the surgeon in charge.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER V<br /> + +<small>THE CRITICS</small></h2> + + +<p>“Ahem!” said Billie, rapping for order as the +girls began all at once to say what they thought +of “Fairy Godmothers Wanted.” The one with +the burning plot began rattling her paper in +preparation of the turn she hoped for.</p> + +<p>“First general impressions are in order! One +at a time, please! You, Miss Oldham, you tell +us how it strikes you.”</p> + +<p>“Pleasing on the whole, but——”</p> + +<p>“We’ll come to the ‘buts’ later,” was the stern +mandate of the chairman of the day.</p> + +<p>“You, Lilian Swift, you next!”</p> + +<p>“Too long!” from the blunt Lilian.</p> + +<p>“The idea! I think it was just sweet,” from +the gentle Alabamian.</p> + +<p>“I got kind of mixed in the middle and +couldn’t tell which was the nurse and which Polly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +Nelson,” declared one who had evidently gone off +into a cataleptic fit, no doubt dreaming of a story +she meant to write some day.</p> + +<p>“I never, never could love a man who had deceived +me,” sighed the sentimental one with big +eyes and a little mouth.</p> + +<p>“Personal predilections not valuable as criticism,” +said Billie sternly.</p> + +<p>Many and various were the opinions expressed. +Molly diligently and meekly took notes, agreeing +heartily with the ones who thought it was too +long.</p> + +<p>“Where must I cut it?” she asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Cut out all the letters!” suggested Lilian.</p> + +<p>“How could she? It is all letters,” asked +Billie, whose chair was becoming a burden as she +felt she must get into the discussion.</p> + +<p>“Cut ’em, anyhow. Letters in fiction are no +good.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! How about the early English +novelists?” asked Molly.</p> + +<p>“Dead! Dead! All of them dead!” stormed +Lilian.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Then how about Mary Roberts Rinehart and +Booth Tarkington and lots of others? Daddy +Longlegs is all letters.”</p> + +<p>“All the samey, it is a poor stunt,” insisted the +intrepid Lilian. “I call it a lazy way to get +your idea over.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are right, but the point is: did +I get my idea over?”</p> + +<p>“We-ll, yes,—but they tell me editors don’t +like letter form of fiction.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly none of them have liked this,” +sighed Molly, who had devoutly hoped her little +story would sell. The money she made herself +was very delightful to receive and more delightful +to spend. A professor’s salary can as a rule +stand a good deal of supplementing.</p> + +<p>“How about the plot, now?” asked Billie, +having finished with the general impression.</p> + +<p>“Slight!”</p> + +<p>“Strong!”</p> + +<p>“Weak!”</p> + +<p>“Impossible!”</p> + +<p>“Plausible!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Original!”</p> + +<p>“Bromidic!”</p> + +<p>“Involved!” were the verdicts. The matter +was thoroughly threshed out, Billie with difficulty +keeping order. Nance was called on for +the “but” that she had been left holding.</p> + +<p>“The plot is slight but certainly original in its +way. The letters are too long, longer than a +Godmother would be apt to write, I think. The +story could be cut to three thousand words, I believe, +to its advantage.”</p> + +<p>“I have already cut out about fifteen hundred +words,” wailed Molly. “The first writing was +lots longer.”</p> + +<p>“Gee!” breathed the one eager for a hearing.</p> + +<p>“Now for the characterization! Don’t all +speak at once, but one at a time tell what you +think of it.”</p> + +<p>“Did you mean to make Polly so silly?” asked +Lilian.</p> + +<p>“I—I—perhaps!” faltered Molly.</p> + +<p>“Of course if you meant to, why then your +characterization is perfect.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Silly! Why, she is dear,” declared the girl +from Alabama. “I don’t like her having to +nurse that black man, though.”</p> + +<p>“Too many points of view!” suddenly blurted +out a member who had hitherto kept perfectly +silent, but she had been eagerly scanning a paper +whereon was written the requisites for a short +story.</p> + +<p>“But you see——” meekly began Molly.</p> + +<p>“The point of view must either be that of the +author solely or one of the characters,” asserted +the knowing one. “Why, you even let us know +how the Bedouin feels.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” gasped the poor author. “I think you +would limit the story teller too much if you eliminated +such things as that.”</p> + +<p>“Here’s what the correspondence course +says——”</p> + +<p>“Spare us!” cried the club in a chorus.</p> + +<p>“I hate all these cut and dried rules!” cried +Billie. “It would take all the spice out of literature +if we stuck to them.”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it,” answered Lilian. “We are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +not making literature but trying to sell our stuff. +Persons who have arrived can write any old way. +They can start off with the climax and end up +with an introduction and their things go, but I’ll +bet you my hat that you will not find a single +story by a new writer that does not have to toe the +mark drawn by the teachers of short story writing.”</p> + +<p>“Which hat?” teased Billie. “The one you +put on for Great-aunt Gertrude? If it is that +one, I won’t bet. I wouldn’t read a short story +by a new writer for it.”</p> + +<p>“To return to my story,” pleaded Molly, “do +you think if I rewrite it, leave out the letters, +strengthen the plot a bit and make Polly a little +wiser that I might sell it?”</p> + +<p>“Sure!” encouraged Lilian.</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed!” echoed Nance.</p> + +<p>“And the black man—please cut him out! I +can’t bear to think of him,” from the girl from +Alabama.</p> + +<p>“Dialogue,—how about it?” asked the chairman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Pretty good, but a little stilted,” was the verdict +of several critics.</p> + +<p>“I think you are all of you simply horrid!” +exclaimed Mary Neil, who had been silent and +sullen through the whole evening. “I think it is +the best story that has been read all year and I +believe you are just jealous to tear it to pieces +this way.”</p> + +<p>“Stuff and nonsense!” said Lilian.</p> + +<p>“We do hope we haven’t hurt your feelings, +Mrs. Green,” cried the girl who was taking the +correspondence course.</p> + +<p>“Hurt my feelings! The very idea! I read +my story to get help from you and not praise. I +am going to think over what you have said and do +my best to correct the faults, if I come to the conclusion +you are right.”</p> + +<p>“You would have a hard time doing what +everybody says,” laughed Nance, “as no two +have agreed.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can pick and choose among so many +opinions,” said Molly, putting her manuscript +back in its big envelope. “I might do as my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +mother did when she got the opinion of two physicians +on the diet she was to have: she simply took +from each man the advice that best suited her +taste and between the two managed to be very +well fed, and, strange to say, got well of her malady +under the composite treatment.”</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” said the girl with the burning plot, +rattling her manuscript audibly so that the hardhearted +Billie must perforce recognize her and +give her the floor.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER VI<br /> + +<small>“I HAD A LITTLE HUSBAND NO BIGGER THAN MY +THUMB”</small></h2> + + +<p>“Aunt Nance, what’s the use you ain’t got +no husband an’ baby children?” Mildred always +said use instead of reason.</p> + +<p>“Lots of reasons!” answered Nance, smiling +at her little companion. Mildred had moved +herself and all her belongings into the guest-chamber. +Her mother had at first objected, but +when she found it made Nance happy to have the +child with her, she gave her consent.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t no husbands come along wantin’ you?”</p> + +<p>“That is one of the reasons.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to make Dodo marry you when he +gets some teeth.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, darling! Dodo would make a +dear little husband.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Dodo wouldn’t never say nothin’ mean to +you. He’s got more disposition than any baby +in the family.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure he wouldn’t,” said Nance, trying to +count the stitches as she neatly turned the heel of +the grey sock she was knitting. Nance was always +knitting in those days.</p> + +<p>“’Cose if I kin get you a husband a little teensy +weensy bit taller than Dodo, I’ll let you know.”</p> + +<p>“Fine! But Dodo will grow.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’ll make out to shrink up some. +Katy kin shrink you. My muvver said Katy +kin shrink up anything. She done shrinked up +Dodo’s little shirts jes’ big enough for my dolly. +I’s jes’ crazy ’bout Katy. I’m gonter ask her kin +she shrink you up no bigger’n Dodo an’ then +won’t you be cunning? You can look jes’ like +you look now only teensy weensy little. Your +little feet’ll be so long, not great big ones like +mine, an’ your little hands will be ’bout as big as +my little fingers an’—an’—you kin knit little bits +of baby socks an’ I kin take you out ridin’ in my +little doll-baby carriage, all tucked in nice.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But then I’ll be too little to marry Dodo. +You won’t trust your doll to Dodo, and if I’m so +teensy maybe he might break me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I guess Katy’ll have to stretch +you some. She done stretched the shirt mos’ a +mile.”</p> + +<p>“What do you say to taking a little walk?”</p> + +<p>“I say: ‘Glory be!’ That’s what Kizzie, our +cook, says when she’s happy.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we take Dodo out in his carriage?”</p> + +<p>“If I can put my dolly in, too!”</p> + +<p>Dodo was awake and pleased to be included in +this outing, if gurglings and splutterings were an +indication of happiness. He and the doll were +tucked safely in. Katy, who had been longing +for the time to come when she could scrub the +nursery, was delighted to be relieved of her +charge for the time being.</p> + +<p>“Where shall we walk?” asked Nance.</p> + +<p>“Down by the lake! My dolly ain’t never +seed the lake yet. They’s a little blue boat down +there what my papa, the ’fessor, done say he +gonter set sail in some day. He say he gonter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +go way out in the middle of the lake where th’ +ain’t no little girls with curls to come tickle his +nose in the morning. My papa is kind and good, +but he sho’ do hate to have his nose tickled with +curls early in the morning.”</p> + +<p>The lake! How many memories it brought +back to Nance! The blue boat might be the +same one in which Judy Kean had her memorable +midnight jaunt, or was it a canoe? Nance smiled +at the picture that arose in her mind’s eye. It +was their Junior year and Judy had gone off in a +fit of jealousy and rage, and when she came to +herself she was out in the middle of the lake while +Molly and Nance rowed frantically after her. +What a time they had covering their tracks to +keep Judy from being found out and perhaps +even expelled! Nance laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>The sun was warm on that day in late March, +almost like a southern sun. Dodo, lazy baby, +had slipped from his sitting posture and lay flat +on his back. He had the same characteristics as +Mildred’s doll baby: the moment he lay down his +eyes closed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, what a sleepy husband I have got!” +cried Nance. “Let’s camp out here, darling. I +brought my knitting and while my little husband +sleeps——”</p> + +<p>“And my doll baby, too!”</p> + +<p>“You can play in that nice clean sand. Don’t +go too close to the water.”</p> + +<p>There was a stretch of beach at that side of +the lake where a small pier had been built for +a boat-landing. The sand was fine and +white, a most delectable medium for houses +or pies, whatever the young sculptor wished to +create.</p> + +<p>Nance seated herself on a nice warm rock while +her little companion busied herself collecting +pebbles for the castle she contemplated building. +The sock grew under the girl’s skillful fingers +while her thoughts were miles away from the +poor soldier whose foot it was destined to cover. +Dodo snoozed peacefully and no doubt the doll +did, too.</p> + +<p>“Look! Look! Aunt Nance, I’ve done found +some kitty flowers!” cried Mildred, rushing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +Nance with a switch of willow catkins she had +found growing near the water’s edge.</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘I had a little pussy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her coat was silver grey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lived down in the meadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She never ran away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘Her name was always Pussy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She never was a cat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Cause she was a Pussy-Willow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now what do you think of that?’”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>sang Nance. “Now let me teach you that nice +verse so you can say it to your father.”</p> + +<p>Mildred obediently learned the poetry in so +short a time that her teacher marveled at her +cleverness and good memory.</p> + +<p>“Now, darling, you mustn’t go quite so close +to the water again. Aunt Nance will gather a +big armful of the pussy-willows to take back to +Mother, but you might get your little tootsies wet +if you go too close to the edge. Then I’ll have +to put you in the carriage with my husband and +run home every step of the way.”</p> + +<p>Mildred trotted off with assurances of caution. +Nance settled herself to her knitting and her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +thoughts. What a boon this universal knitting +has become to women who want to think and be +busy at the same time! The girl’s thoughts were +centered on herself. What was she to do with +her life? The desire to teach had left her with +the years she had spent nursing her father and +mother. United States was on the verge of war—any +moment it might be declared. That would +mean the women of the land would be in demand +just as they had been in Europe. There +would be work to do, but what was her share to +be?</p> + +<p>This little breathing time with Molly was very +sweet, but it could not go on forever. The time +would come when she must take up life again. +Her unruly thoughts would dwell on how different +things would have been had Andy McLean +not shown himself so unreasonable. She might +have gone to the front with him. There was +work in the hospitals in France for others besides +trained nurses, lots of work! Cooking, cleaning, +sewing, peeling potatoes, scrubbing floors—nothing +was too menial for her. It would have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +sweet to work near Andy, shoulder to shoulder in +spirit even if he would happen to be the surgeon +in charge and she a poor scrub girl. She might +have been taking care of some of the war orphans. +Minding little babies was her long suit, it seemed. +A big tear gathered and spilled on the toe of the +sock that was being so neatly finished off.</p> + +<p>A shrill scream broke on the still air.</p> + +<p>“I’m a-sinkin’! I’m a-sinkin’!”</p> + +<p>“Mildred!” cried Nance, jumping to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, nurse, I’ll go after her,” said a +stern voice from behind her. “You had better +look after your other charge,” in a tone which +made no attempt to veil its sarcasm.</p> + +<p>Dodo had awakened and was sitting up in the +carriage reaching for the willow catkins. His +position was precarious, as one more inch might +have sent him headlong in the sand.</p> + +<p>Nance dropped her knitting and grabbed the +venturesome baby while the stern voice materialized +into a tall grey figure with sandy hair who +ran towards the water’s edge, skinning out of his +coat and vest as he ran and in some miraculous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +way also divesting himself of his shoes. His hat +he had already hurled at Nance’s feet.</p> + +<p>Mildred had walked out on the little pier and +decided that she would get in the pretty blue boat +that her father considered such a safe refuge +from tickling curls. It was bobbing about most +invitingly in easy stepping distance.</p> + +<p>“Won’t Aunt Nance be ’stonished?” the child +had said to herself. “She’s gonter holler out: +‘M-i-i-l-dred! Where you Mi—ldred baby?’ +an’ I gonter lay low an’ keep on a-sayin’ +nothin’.”</p> + +<p>She put out her little foot and set it firmly on +the bow of the boat that was almost grazing the +edge of the landing.</p> + +<p>“My legs is a-gettin’ mos’ long enough to step +up to the moon an’ stars,” she boasted.</p> + +<p>But how strangely boats behaved! This one +did not stay still as she had expected but ran +away from her. Her legs had not grown nearly +so long as she had thought and they refused to +grow another bit. The boat got farther and +farther away and the horrid little pier seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +be moving, too, and in the opposite direction. +The time came when Mildred must choose between +land and water. She decided to stay on +shore and with a mighty effort jerked her little +foot from the unsteady blue boat. Three years +going on four is not a period of great equilibrium. +Fate took matters out of Mildred’s hands +and kersplash! she went in the cold waters of the +lake. It was not very deep so close to the shore, +but neither was the little girl so very tall. By +standing on her tiptoes she might have managed +to keep her inquisitive nose out of the water, +but the naughty blue boat came swinging back +to her rescue and she clutched first the painter +and then the side of the boat, screaming lustily +as she clung.</p> + +<p>The grey figure with the sandy hair ran lightly +along the pier and with one swoop gathered the +child up into his arms. He might have saved +himself the trouble of taking off his coat and +shoes, but he had seen the child as she fell in the +water and did not know what would be required +of him as life saver. Mildred was sobbing dolefully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +as she buried her wet curls in the neck of +her rescuer.</p> + +<p>“Your nurse should have looked after you,” he +muttered.</p> + +<p>“She had her husband to ’tend to,” said Mildred, +“an’ I was a-keepin’ keer of myself. ’Sides +she ain’t my nurse but my ’loved aunty.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! And who may you be?”</p> + +<p>“I’m Mildred Carbuncle Green.” The family +name of Molly’s mother, which was Carmichael, +was thus perverted by this scion of the race.</p> + +<p>“And your aunt’s name?” asked the young +man as he picked up his discarded coat and +wrapped it around his burden.</p> + +<p>“She’s Aunt Nance——”</p> + +<p>“Nance Oldham!” and he almost dropped little +Mildred. “And you say she was busy with +her husband?”</p> + +<p>“Yessir! He keeps her busy mos’ of the +time.”</p> + +<p>The rescue and this conversation had taken but +a moment. In the meantime, poor Nance had +shoved her little husband back in the carriage and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +was rapidly wheeling him towards the scene of +disaster.</p> + +<p>She had recognized Andy McLean in the tall +grey figure and sandy hair. The moment he had +spoken to her so sternly she had known it was he. +At that moment she envied no creature in the +world so much as an ostrich. If she could only +bury her head in the sand. Why should Fate +be so cruel to her? Why should Andy McLean +come back on her horizon at that moment when +she was neglecting her duty? But then, she reflected, +if he had not come back at that psychological +moment either Mildred would have +drowned or Dodo broken his neck. She could +not have rescued both of them at once. Indeed, +both of them might have been killed! The fact +that the water was shallow and Mildred could +have walked out of it was no comfort to Nance, +nor did it allay her suffering and self-reproaches +in the least to know that almost every baby that +has grown to manhood has at one time or another +fallen out of his carriage or bed, down the steps +or even out of the window.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy McLean, too, was going through some +uncomfortable moments as he held the dripping +child close in his arms and made his way across +the beach to Nance. There had never been a +moment since he and Nance had parted that he +had not regretted his hasty words; but what good +were regrets? Nance could not have cared for +him or she would have felt that at her father’s +death he was the person to whom she must turn +instead of that Dr. Flint. As far as he could see, +there was no reason under Heaven why Nance +should not have married him immediately. He +knew nothing of her mother’s determination to +give up her public life nor of her decision to remain +at home for Nance to nurse. He had not +yet learned of Mrs. Oldham’s death, as he had +arrived at Wellington only the evening before, +and Mrs. McLean, with a wisdom sometimes +granted mothers, had not mentioned Nance’s +name to him, much less the fact that she was +even then visiting the Greens.</p> + +<p>“Married! and so engrossed with her husband +that she let little children entrusted to her care<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +fall in the water and almost fall out of baby carriages! +But where is the—the—cad?” was what +Andy was thinking as he approached the frantic +Nance, who was pushing the carriage as for dear +life through the heavy sand.</p> + +<p>“Mildred! Mildred! You promised not to +go near the water’s edge!”</p> + +<p>“I never went near it but jes’ ran out on the +little wooden street. I wasn’t goin’ to be +naughty. I knowed I might get my feet wet +down by the edge so I walked on the planks. I +never done nothin’ nor nothin’! ’Twas the bad +little blue boat what wobbled.”</p> + +<p>Nance and Andy both laughed at the amusing +child. The laugh made matters easier for them.</p> + +<p>Brown eyes looked into blue and then such a +blush o’erspread their countenances that a day’s +fishing under a summer sun could not have accomplished.</p> + +<p>“You had better put her in the carriage—it +is warm there and I can carry Dodo.”</p> + +<p>“No, I will keep her wrapped in my coat. +That will be better.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But you—you might be cold.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all! I never catch cold,” shortly.</p> + +<p>Nance remembered otherwise, but there was +nothing to do but turn and wheel the baby back +to the house on the campus.</p> + +<p>“I—you must think—I know I was careless +to let such an accident happen to my +charges. I have no excuse—I was just thinking!”</p> + +<p>“About your husband, I fancy!”</p> + +<p>Again Nance’s cheeks were crimson, remembering +only too well what her thoughts had been +as she sat in the sand knitting.</p> + +<p>“I——”</p> + +<p>“Mildred told me about him,” said Andy +grimly.</p> + +<p>“Did she?” laughed Nance, thinking that +Andy was speaking of Dodo, of course. “He is +a darling husband.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” They walked on in silence, Andy +taking great strides with Mildred clasped closely +in his arms, while Nance wheeled the baby carriage, +almost running to keep up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I don’t know what to call you,” said Andy +at last.</p> + +<p>“Call me? Why, call me Nance! Why not? +My name is still Nance no matter what has happened.”</p> + +<p>“I—I—perhaps he wouldn’t like it.”</p> + +<p>“Who?”</p> + +<p>“Your husband! Is it Flint?”</p> + +<p>“Andy McLean, you are a fool! There is no +other word for you!” and Nance grabbed Dodo +from his carriage and ran up the steps, thankful +that they had arrived at the Square Deal.</p> + +<p>“If not Flint, who?” muttered Andy under +his breath. “I am going to stay here until I find +out.”</p> + +<p>Molly was not at home to receive her wet +daughter. Nance and Katy rubbed her down +and dressed her while Andy waited miserably in +the library. Why had his mother not warned +him that Nance Oldham was in Wellington? +They had had a long talk and she had told him +news of all their old friends. Molly and Edwin +had been mentioned again and again but the fact<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +that they had a guest had been kept dark. He +had never talked to his mother about his break +with Nance. A certain reticence in his make-up +withheld him. Many times he had longed to put +his head in her lap and tell her all about it.</p> + +<p>A great intimacy existed between Mrs. McLean +and this only child, but instead of his being like +a daughter to her, as is the case sometimes +with a woman and an only child when that child +happens to be a son, this worthy mother had adjusted +herself more into the relationship of an +elder brother to Andy. There were few if any +subjects they could not discuss together, but +somehow he could not bring himself to tell her +of Nance. She had known they were engaged—that +was easy to tell, and she knew the engagement +was no more—that was all. Mrs. McLean +bided her time.</p> + +<p>“They are young yet,” she had said to her +husband. “Some misunderstanding has come up, +but if they are really meant for one another it +will be explained away. If they can’t forgive, +then they are not suited for mating.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>The good woman had been delighted beyond +measure that Nance should be in Wellington +while her son was on his farewell visit to her, and +she had devoutly prayed that they might meet by +chance, just as they had. Of course she had not +stipulated in her prayers that Andy should mistake +Nance for the Greens’ nurse and reprimand +her for carelessness; and then fish Mildred out +of the water; and get Dodo and the hated Dr. +Flint hopelessly mixed, and be called a fool for +his blunder!</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER VII<br /> + +<small>NANCE PACKS HER TRUNK</small></h2> + + +<p>Molly, coming in hurriedly from her labors +at the French War Relief rooms where she had +been engaged in making surgical dressings until +her back ached so that she had more sympathy +for the poor wounded than ever, if possible, +found young Dr. McLean cooling his heels and +drying his coat by her library fire.</p> + +<p>“Andy! I am so glad to see you!” she cried, +grasping both of his hands. “When did you +come? Did you know Nance Oldham is with +me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have seen her,” grimly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, then you know of her trouble?”</p> + +<p>“Trouble! I shouldn’t call it that. She evidently +does not consider it in that light.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Andy McLean, how can you say such a +thing?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I formed my opinions from the evidence +of my own eyes. In fact, she told me with +her own lips that she was contented; if not in so +many words, at least she gave me that impression.”</p> + +<p>“Resigned, of course! That is Nance’s way, +but she is very sad and lonesome for all that.”</p> + +<p>“Lonesome! Ye Gods, how many does she +want?”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, Andy, but you are talking like a +goose,” declared Molly, irritated in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, madam,” he said, bowing low. +“Your guest has just called me a fool and now +you call me a goose. I bid you good-by.”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, indeed! Andy McLean, sit down +here and let me send for your father. I believe +my soul you are in a fever or something.” Molly +pushed him down in a chair near the fire. +“Why, Andy, your coat is damp! Where have +you been?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>She drew a chair by him and seated herself, +looking anxiously into his flushed face. Andy +laughed in a hard tone.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are right, but don’t send for Father. +I got my coat wet in a perfectly sane way, +but perhaps you had better find out about that +from Mrs. Fl—Nance—I mean.”</p> + +<p>Andy balked at that name of Mrs. Flint and +then, besides, Nance had called him a fool when +he had hinted at the doctor’s being the happy +man. At this juncture little Mildred came running +into the library.</p> + +<p>“Mumsy! Mumsy! Is you heard ’bout me +an’ the blue boat?”</p> + +<p>“No, darling! But what makes your curls so +wet?”</p> + +<p>“That was that baddest blue boat. It +wouldn’t stay still ’til I got in—it jes’ moved and +moved—an’ the little wooden street, it moved an’ +moved an’ I went kerblim! kersplash!”</p> + +<p>“In the lake! Oh, Mildred! I know you +didn’t mind Aunt Nance. Are you cold? Did +Aunt Nance get wet? Where is Dodo?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You ’fuses me with so many ain’t’s an’ do’s +and didn’t’s.”</p> + +<p>“You tell me all about it,” said the doting +mother, trying to compose herself as she gathered +the first-born in her arms.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see, me’n’ Aunt Nance we went +a-walkin’ an’ we tooked Dodo along an’ my dolly, +an’ Aunt Nance she says that one use she ain’t +got no husband is ’cause don’t no husband want +her, an’ I done tol’ her that if Katy kin shrink her +up some that Dodo kin be her husband. You +see, Mumsy, I been a-feelin’ sorry for Aunt +Nance ever since that time I mos’ went to sleep +in her lap an’ she talked about a beau lover what +got to fightin’ with her an’ she hit him back. She +wetted my ear all up with her tears. I jes’ done +thunk somethin’!” the child exclaimed, getting +out of her mother’s lap and peering curiously into +Andy’s face. “Is you the Andy what talked so +crule to my Aunt Nance? ’Cause if you is, I’m +sorry you done pulled me out’n the lake.”</p> + +<p>“Mildred! Mildred!” admonished Molly, but +in her heart of hearts she knew that what the enfant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +terrible was saying to the young doctor was +no doubt of a very salutary nature. He needed +a good talking to and he was getting it.</p> + +<p>“I am the one,” said Andy meekly.</p> + +<p>“Well, when Dodo grows up to be big enough +he is goin’ to—to—cut you up in little pieces. +He’s growin’ up fast an’ bein’ a husband is +makin’ him cut his teeth early——”</p> + +<p>“Molly Brown!” interrupted Andy McLean +eagerly. “Is Nance not married?”</p> + +<p>“Married! The idea, Andy! Of course not!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she is! She’s married to Dodo Green. +I married ’em this morning,” declared Mildred +defiantly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh! I see it all now!” laughed Molly +hysterically. “You were talking about her +mythical marriage while I was speaking of her +mother’s death.”</p> + +<p>“Her mother dead? I had not heard a word +of it. Strange that so important a woman as +Mrs. Oldham should have died without my seeing +it mentioned in the paper.”</p> + +<p>“But Mrs. Oldham dropped out of public life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +two years ago, when her husband died, in fact. +Nance had hardly rested from the long siege of +nursing her father before she began on her +mother.”</p> + +<p>Andy bowed his sandy-haired head in his hands +and groaned:</p> + +<p>“Fool! Fool! Every kind of fool and goose +you and Nance choose to call me,—fool and +knave! Bad-tempered brute! Jealous idiot! +Oh, Molly, please call Nance.”</p> + +<p>When Nance had hurled her “fool” at Andy’s +sandy head, she flew up-stairs, determined never +to speak to him again. She longed for a few +quiet moments in her own room, but Mildred +must be rubbed down and dressed before she +could seek retirement. She was sure he would +leave the house immediately. His coat was wet +and no doubt his vest and shirt, too, after having +carried the dripping child such a distance. Of +course he would not want to call on the Greens +while she was in the house. The girl bitterly regretted +having timed her visit so unfortunately. +The Greens and McLeans were very intimate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +and would perforce see each other often. She +hated to be a wet blanket—a skeleton at the feast. +She determined to pack her trunk and go on a +promised visit to an old college friend then living +in New York. Molly would object, she knew, +but it was surely best for all of them that she +should take herself off for a few weeks.</p> + +<p>Nance was always an orderly person and packing +a trunk with her was a very simple matter. +She began in her usual systematic way and had +already folded her dresses neatly in the trays and +was emptying the bureau drawers when Molly’s +voice was heard calling her from the lower +hall.</p> + +<p>“Nance! Oh, Nance!”</p> + +<p>She sounded quite excited. No doubt she had +just been informed of Mildred’s accident and +wanted to hear the details of it.</p> + +<p>“Coming!” called Nance, hurrying down the +steps. “Oh, Molly, what do you think of me for +taking out the children and almost drowning Mildred? +And while that was going on, little Dodo +came within an ace of tumbling out of the carriage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +on his precious sleepy head! You will +never trust them with me again.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! Mildred is old enough not to try +to get in boats alone, and as for Dodo, Aunt +Mary always said: ‘Whin chilluns grows up +’thout ever gittin’ a tumble, they is sho’ to be +idjits.’”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, my real duty was to let him tumble,” +laughed Nance. “What do you want with +me, honey? I am very busy.”</p> + +<p>“Not too busy to come in and talk with me a +little while,” insisted the wily Molly, putting her +arm around her friend’s waist and leading her to +the library door.</p> + +<p>“I do want to talk to you a moment,” agreed +Nance. “Molly, I am going away for a few +weeks.” They had reached the door, which was +ajar, and Andy, ensconced in the sleepy-hollow +chair dear to the professor’s bones, could plainly +hear the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Going away! You are going to do no such +thing.”</p> + +<p>“I must. There is no use in asking me why—you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +know why—— It is too hard for me and +there is no use in pretending it is not.”</p> + +<p>“But, Nance——”</p> + +<p>“I have begun to pack and I will go to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Instead of the hospitable protestations characteristic +of Molly, that young housewife said not a +word, but giving her friend a little push towards +the fireplace, she grabbed up Mildred and rushed +from the room, closing the door after her.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII<br /> + +<small>A DAMP COAT</small></h2> + + +<p>Andy undoubled himself with alacrity and +sprang from the sleepy-hollow chair. His stern +face was softened and filled with a boyish eagerness.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nance! Can’t you forgive me?”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, Dr. McLean, I did not know +you were still here,” and Nance turned to leave +the room.</p> + +<p>Andy with long strides reached the door first +and with his back against it held out beseeching +hands.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’m here and am going to stay +here——”</p> + +<p>“Well, I am not! Please let me pass.” +Nance was filled with a righteous indignation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +against Molly at having played this trick on +her.</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, I must tell you what a fool I +have been——”</p> + +<p>“That is not necessary. I know.”</p> + +<p>Andy laughed. Nance had a laconic way of +putting things that always tickled his humor.</p> + +<p>“Now you sound like yourself, honey, but oh, +please act like yourself! The real Nance Oldham +could not be so cruel as to go off without letting +me explain—I have no excuse—there could +be none for my blind rage and jealousy—none +unless loving you too hard could be called one. +Will you listen to me?”</p> + +<p>“I shall have to unless I stop up my ears, since +you stop up the doorway.” Nance was very pale +and trembling. Two years of suffering could +not be done away with in a moment and the girl +had surely suffered.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t we sit down and let me tell you?”</p> + +<p>“We could!”</p> + +<p>Andy eagerly directed Nance to the sofa, but +she sedately seated herself in a small isolated sewing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +rocker. Andy accepted the amendment and +placed his chair as near to hers as the frigid atmosphere +around her permitted.</p> + +<p>“Before I explain I must apologize. I would +have done it the very day after that awful row we +had, the very moment after it, if I had not +thought you hated me.”</p> + +<p>“And now?”</p> + +<p>“And now I am going to apologize and explain, +whether you hate me or not. I could do it +lots better if you would let me hold your hand +while I am doing it,” but Nance drew Molly’s +knitting from a bag hung on the back of the chair +and declared her hands were otherwise occupied. +Molly had reached the purling end of a sleeveless +sweater and no doubt would be glad of Nance’s +expert assistance.</p> + +<p>“Nance, there never has been any other woman +in my life but you, you and my mother. You +know perfectly well from the time I met you, +when I was at Exmoor College and you were +here at Wellington, that you were the only girl +in the world for me. I had a kind of notion in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +my fool brain that I was going to be the only man +in the world for you. When we were engaged I +thought I was, but when I realized that Dr. Flint +was paying you such devoted attention, at your +home constantly——”</p> + +<p>“My father’s physician!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,—but, honey, you see you were +way up there in Vermont and I was down in New +York and I was hungry for you all the time, and +when your father died I thought you would pick +right up and come to me—I knew nothing of +your mother’s determination to stay with you—nothing +of her illness—nothing but that you were +staying in the same town with Flint and I must +go back to New York. You did not tell +me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, hardly, after the way you raged and +tore! I felt if you could rage that way we had +better separate.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, I’ll never rage that way again—I’ve +learned my lesson. Can’t you forgive +me?” Nance was silent.</p> + +<p>“I love you just as much as I always did,—more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +in fact. When little Mildred Green told +me you had let her fall in the water because you +were so busy with your husband, I wanted to die +that minute. Of course I thought it was Flint. +How could I know the child was playing a game +with you? Nance, do you hate me as much as +you did that terrible day two years ago?”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” Nance’s answer was very low but +Andy heard it.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, there is no use in saying any +more,” he sprang to his feet, his face grey with +misery.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t hate you then at all—nor do I now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nance, don’t tease me! Can you forgive +me?” and poor Andy sank on his knees and +bowed his head on her knees.</p> + +<p>Nance’s arms were around him in a moment. +She hugged his sandy head to her bosom with one +hand and patted his back with the other while he +gave a great sob.</p> + +<p>“Andy McLean, you are still wringing wet. +Get up from here this minute and take off that +coat and let me dry it! And your shirt is damp,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +too! My, what a boy! Here, sit right close to +the fire and dry that wet sleeve.”</p> + +<p>Andy meekly submitted in a daze. Nance’s +motherly attitude and sudden melting were too +much for him. The coat was hung by the fire to +dry while the young doctor stood helplessly by in +his shirt sleeves.</p> + +<p>“And now, Andy, I’m going to apologize to +you and ask you to forgive me,” declared Nance, +stoutly trying to go on with her knitting.</p> + +<p>But Andy firmly took it from her and possessed +himself of those busy hands.</p> + +<p>“I was worse than you—when you said those +hard things to me they hurt like fury—you didn’t +know how they did hurt, but I did, and I should +not have done the same thing to you. I said +worse things to you than you did to me,—at least +I tried to.”</p> + +<p>“You did pretty well,” said Andy whimsically, +pressing one of the imprisoned hands to his +lips.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Flint did want to marry me; I guess he +still does, but—but——”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But what, lassie?” Sometimes Andy +dropped into his parents’ vernacular.</p> + +<p>“I am not going to tell a man in his shirt +sleeves why I didn’t marry Dr. Flint,” said +Nance firmly. “It is too unpicturesque.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll put on my coat.”</p> + +<p>“No, you won’t! I wouldn’t tell a man in a +wet coat, either.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Because I don’t like to lay my brown head +on a damp shoulder. Why don’t you do as I told +you and dry that shirt sleeve? Hold it close to +the fire, sir!”</p> + +<p>“I won’t do it unless you tell me why you +didn’t marry Dr. Flint.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, to keep you from catching your +death of cold, I will tell you, but remember I +have saved your life. It was—it was because—because +he didn’t have sandy hair and a bad temper,” +and Nance was enfolded in the despised +shirt sleeves and found a very nice dry spot on +which to lay her brown head.</p> + +<p>The sun had set and twilight was upon them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +The front door opened to admit the master of the +house, but Molly was in ambush ready to catch +him to keep him out of the library. Kizzie had +started in to mend the fire but Molly stopped +her.</p> + +<p>“Never mind the fire, Kizzie. It is all right +for such a warm evening. Give us tea in the +den.”</p> + +<p>“Why all of this mystery?” asked Edwin +Green as he followed his wife back to the den, +going on tiptoe as she demanded.</p> + +<p>“Andy and Nance are in there.”</p> + +<p>“Andy McLean! Fine! I want to see him. +Won’t he be here to tea? I’ll go in and speak to +him.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll do no such thing! Edwin Green, you +may be—in fact, are, a grand lecturer on English, +but you have no practical sense. Don’t you know +you might break in just at the wrong moment +and Andy may get off to France without their +making it up?”</p> + +<p>“Making up what? Who making up: the Allies +and the central powers?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, Edwin, you know I mean Nance and +Andy!”</p> + +<p>“What are they making up? If it is a row, +let’s go help them.”</p> + +<p>“Not a soul shall go in that room until they +come out, unless it is over my dead body.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! I’d rather stay in this room with +your live body than go in there over your dead +one,” and the professor pulled his wife down on +the sofa by him, “especially if you will give me +some tea,” as Kizzie came in grinning with the +tea tray.</p> + +<p>“They’s co’tin’ a-goin’ on in yander, boss. +The fiah is low an’ the lights ain’t lit, but Miss +Molly she guard that do’ like a cat do a mouse +hole. Cose Miss Nance ain’t got no maw to +futher things up for her but Miss Molly is all +ready to fly off an’ git the preacher, seems +like.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t remember that things were made easy +for me this way when I was addressing my wife,” +complained Edwin as he stirred his tea with his +arm around his wife, a combination that could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +not have been made had his arm not been long +and Molly still slender.</p> + +<p>“Ungrateful man! Why, Judy and Kent +took the bus from Fontainebleau to Barbizon +when they were simply dying to walk, just to +give you a chance. Have you forgotten?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t forgotten the walk—I never will—and +if they really rode on my account, I’ll pass +on the favor to other lovers and stay out of my +library until the cows come home; that is, if you +will stay with me.”</p> + +<p>Molly told him then of the whole affair and +how Mildred had righted matters, telling Andy +just exactly the right thing to bring him to his +senses.</p> + +<p>“I am almost sure they have made up and are +engaged again,” sighed Molly ecstatically. A +romance was dear to her soul and being happily +married herself, she felt like furthering the love +affairs of all her friends.</p> + +<p>“They are either engaged or dead,” laughed +Edwin. “Such silence emanating from the library +must bode extreme calamity or extreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +bliss. If it continues much longer I think it is +my duty as a householder to break in the door +and offer congratulations or call the coroner, as +the case demands.”</p> + +<p>“It is getting late. Maybe I had better go in +and ask Andy to stay to dinner.”</p> + +<p>Molly, who had a deep-rooted objection to +noise and usually talked in a low tone, now spoke +in a loud voice as she bumped her way along the +hall, pushing chairs and rattling the hat rack and +calling out shrilly to the amused husband following +her. Strange to say, she could not remember +on which side of the door the knob was, +although she had lived several years in that house. +She fumblingly hunted it and finally opened the +door with a great rattle.</p> + +<p>Nance was seated sedately knitting and Andy +was holding his coat close to the dying flames. +The room was almost dark.</p> + +<p>“Kizzie should have lighted the lamp and attended +to the fire,” Molly said briskly. Oh, +Molly, how could you be so untruthful, blaming +things on poor Kizzie, too? (Molly’s conscience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +did hurt her for dragging Kizzie in and she gave +the girl a long coveted blue hat that she had +meant to keep for second best, feeling that it +might act as a salve on her own tender, truth-loving +soul. Kizzie, quite ignorant of the cause +for this generosity, gratefully accepted the hat +and asked no questions.)</p> + +<p>“Yes, it gets dark before one realizes,” said +Nance demurely.</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” from the professor.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Andy, your coat is still wet! Mildred +told me you wrapped it around her. I’ll get you +Edwin’s smoking jacket and have your coat +dried. You must stay to dinner with us. I can +’phone your mother not to expect you at home.”</p> + +<p>Andy did not need much persuading, but accepted +the invitation with alacrity. Molly called +up Mrs. McLean to ask for the loan of her son +for dinner.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” exclaimed that wise lady at the other +end of the wire. “I have been expecting a telephone +call for the last half hour. You may keep +him but I shall wait up to see him when he gets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +home. I am sur-r-e he’ll have something to tell +me. From my back window I saw Nance with +the perambulator full of babies on her way to the +lake and I sent Andy off for a walk, first putting +a flea in his ear by suggesting that the lake was +getting shallower and shallower. He has always +been that inquisitive that I was sur-r-e he would +make for that spot to find out why. I knew that +all those poor-r young folks had to do was to +meet. Keep him, Molly—and God bless you!”</p> + +<p>There was a little choking sound at the other +end that Molly understood very well. She hung +up the receiver “with a smile on her lip but a +tear in her eye.” It is all very well for a mother +to be unselfish and want her son to marry and to +be happy, but there is a tug of war going on in +her heart all the time.</p> + +<p>“I know how I will feel when Dodo gets engaged,” +Molly said to Edwin when she told him +of what Mrs. McLean had said; but that young +father went off into such shouts of laughter, +Molly had a feeling that mere man could never +understand a mother’s heart.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER IX<br /> + +<small>PLANS</small></h2> + + +<p>“I have no idea of going through dinner without +letting you and old Ed know all about us!” +said Andy as he took his place at Molly’s hospitable +board.</p> + +<p>“What about you?” asked Molly, who was +growing deceitful, her husband feared.</p> + +<p>“About Nance and me! I can’t keep it any +longer,” declared the happy young doctor. +Nance kept her eyes on her plate but her mouth +was twitching with amusement.</p> + +<p>“What about you and Nance?” solemnly +asked the professor.</p> + +<p>“Why, we’re engaged!”</p> + +<p>“No! Not really?” and Edwin grinned.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Andy! I’m so glad!” and Molly reached +a hand out to her two friends, who were perforce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +placed across the table from each other since +there were only four for dinner.</p> + +<p>Nance got up and kissed her hostess. “Oh, +Molly, you are too lovely! Don’t you know that +I know that Andy and I have not fooled you one +moment? Don’t I see brandy peaches on the side +table all ready for dessert, and don’t you know +that I know that those precious articles are only +brought out on highdays and holidays? Isn’t +that fruit cake I smell, that you know perfectly +well you made and put away for next Christmas +so it would be ripe and get better and better?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I had to express my feelings somehow, +and how did I know that you and Andy were going +to tell your secret this very evening? I knew +I mustn’t say a thing until you two said something, +and if I could not say anything, I could at +least feed you.”</p> + +<p>“All I can say, Andy, is that if your experience +in choosing a girl from that class of 19— is +as fortunate as mine, you will be a pretty happy +man, and by Jove, I believe you are running me +a mighty close second,” and to the astonishment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +of his wife, as Edwin Green was certainly a far +from demonstrative man, he actually jumped +from his seat and embraced Nance. Then Andy +felt that he must kiss Molly, and Kizzie coming +in at this juncture almost dropped the dish she +was carrying.</p> + +<p>“Sich a-carryin’s on I never seed. I’m +a-thinking you folks had better sort yo’selves,” +and the girl went off chortling.</p> + +<p>“Now tell me your plans!” demanded Molly +when they settled down to dinner. Strange to +say, they had got rather mixed up in the promiscuous +embracing that had been going on, and +Edwin and Andy had changed places. Edwin +found himself seated at Molly’s side while Andy +had greatly disarranged the table by plumping +himself down by his Nance.</p> + +<p>“We are to be married immediately,” announced +Andy stoutly.</p> + +<p>Nance gasped. The fact was they had been +so busy explaining the past and living in the +present while the fire had died so low in the library, +that the future had not been touched upon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Of course I may start for France at any time +now, but before I go I mean to get me a war +bride. It will be pretty bad leaving her, but then +the war can’t last forever, and I have decided it +is my duty to go help, and I fancy it still is. +When Uncle Sam steps in, maybe he can finish +up things in a hurry. Then I can get back to +Nance.”</p> + +<p>“Get back to me, indeed! If you think you +are going without me, Andy McLean, you are +vastly mistaken. If it is your duty to go help, +it is my duty, too. Oh, I know I am no trained +nurse, but I can do lots of other things. Dr. +Flint says I am better than most trained +nurses——”</p> + +<p>Nance stopped short. She should not have +mentioned Dr. Flint. Only suppose it had hurt +Andy’s feelings! Not a bit of it!</p> + +<p>“Bully for Flint!” cried the accepted lover. +“Oh, Nance, would you go with me?”</p> + +<p>“I can scrub and cook and take care of babies.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that,” teased Andy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But you will always be near and pull them +out of the water when I let them fall in,” suggested +Nance. “Won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“That I will! Just as near as I can get!” +and Andy hitched his chair a little closer, thereby +disarranging the table even more than he had +done before. But although Molly was a very +careful housekeeper and most particular about +the looks of her table, she cared not one whit, but +beamed on Andy as though he were the pink of +propriety instead of a naughty boy.</p> + +<p>What a change a little lovering had made in +the appearance of both Nance and Andy! The +girl’s clear skin was flushed and her eyes sparkling. +The corners of her mouth had no trace of +downward tendency now. The years of sadness +and confinement spent in nursing her father and +mother were forgotten. Nance had come into +her own—her woman’s heritage: to be beloved, to +be guarded and cherished; at the same time to +know that she was to be the companion, the helpmeet. +As for Andy,—he beamed with joy. His +face had lost the stern lines that had so distressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +his mother. He looked again like the boy he was, +not like the tired, disappointed man she had +known of late.</p> + +<p>Nance had no romantic notions of what life in +France meant in that early spring of 1917. She +knew that there was no room for drones and unproductive +consumers in that war-worn country. +She knew that in marrying Andy and going with +his unit she was to face work, privations, danger, +even death; but with her eyes open she was determined +to see it through.</p> + +<p>“I would enlist in the United States army,” +Andy said to his host after dinner, as they +lounged in the den and puffed away at their comforting +pipes, “but I feel that I can be of more +good right now in France where they are crying +out for surgeons.”</p> + +<p>“It can’t be many days now before war is declared,” +sighed Edwin. “By jiminy! I hate +myself for not being able to get in the game.”</p> + +<p>“Too bad, old man! A fellow with a wife and +two children has to think of them.”</p> + +<p>“Of course! I wouldn’t let Molly know how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +I feel about it for any thing. I am not so young +as I was, but I am stronger now than I was as a +youth. As for my eyes—they are good enough +eyes in glasses and my bald head would be no +drawback.” Edwin always would call his +sparsely covered top “bald,” but Molly, by diligent +care, had made two blades of grass grow +where only one had grown before, and with a +microscope one could see the beginnings of a +fuzzy crop of hair, at least so the fond wife insisted.</p> + +<p>“I bet she would say go, if it were put to her,” +said Andy.</p> + +<p>“I’ll not do it, though! It wouldn’t be fair.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if it is put up to her, I bet on Molly +Brown!”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER X<br /> + +<small>ALL THE OLD GIRLS</small></h2> + + +<p>“I’ve got a wonderful scheme, Edwin,” said +Molly when she had finally engineered her husband +out of the den and Nance in.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be bound you have. I never saw such a +Mrs. Machiavelli!—First I mustn’t go in the library +but stick to the den, and now that I had +just made myself at home in the den I must flee +to the library.”</p> + +<p>Molly laughed at her husband’s pretended discomfiture +as he settled himself to find out what +was going on at the front.</p> + +<p>“Now read the news to me while I knit. +There is no knowing how soon our own boys will +be needing sweaters. I feel that every stitch I +put in is important. Mercy, what a mess my +knitting is in! I do believe that little monkey of +a Mildred has been working on it. But she can’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +purl at all! Someone else has done it. No one +has been here but Andy.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t think Andy McLean would attempt +a sweater,” laughed Edwin. “Maybe +Nance is responsible.”</p> + +<p>“But Nance is a past master!”</p> + +<p>“She might have been trying a one-handed +stunt and failed. I don’t believe even Prussian +efficiency could knit and get proposed to and accept +all at the same time. Under the circumstances +I think she should be forgiven for purling +where she should have knitted and knitting where +she should have purled.”</p> + +<p>“You sound like the prayer book,” said Molly, +patiently pulling out stitches and deftly picking +up where Andy asked to hold Nance’s hand. “I +almost feel as though I were committing a sacrilege. +This sweater is like a piece of tapestry +where the lady has recorded her emotions, using +the medium she knew best. I just know dear old +Nance tried to go on with her work all the time +Andy was making love,” and Molly wiped a wee +tear off on the ball of yarn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I tell you that sweater could tell tales if it +could speak,” teased Edwin. “Why don’t you +sew in one of your golden hairs so that the happy +soldier who finally gets it will have some inkling +of how the beautiful girl looks who made it?”</p> + +<p>“Silly! But don’t you want to hear what my +scheme is?”</p> + +<p>“Dying to!”</p> + +<p>“I am going to try to get the old Queen’s +girls, that is our ’special crowd, to come to +Nance’s wedding. Katherine and Edith Williams +are both in New York; Judy is there; Otoyo +Sen is in Boston; Margaret Wakefield is in +Washington; Jessie Lynch is in Philadelphia——”</p> + +<p>“Are there no husbands?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, plenty of them, but I’m not going +to invite husbands! The babies can come if the +mothers can’t leave them, but the husbands are +not invited. Katherine Williams and Jessie +Lynch are the only ones who are still in single +blessedness.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to have them all stay here?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +asked Edwin in amazement, never having quite +accustomed himself to Molly’s wholesale hospitality.</p> + +<p>“Of course! I can manage it finely. That +will be only six extra ones. Why, at Chatsworth +we had that much company any time. This +house is really almost as big as Chatsworth and +there we had our huge family to put away besides.”</p> + +<p>“All I can say is that you are a wonder, but +please don’t break yourself down over this wedding. +What does Nance say to it?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t asked her, but I know she is dying +to see all the girls together. We have often +talked about it, and wedding or no wedding I was +going to try to get them here this next month. +Otoyo has already promised to come, you remember, +and now she can just hurry up and get here +for the wedding. She will have to bring Cho-Cho-San, +who is just a bit older than Mildred. +They can have great times together. You don’t +mind, do you, honey?”</p> + +<p>“Mind! Of course not! You know I like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +company. I was just afraid you were giving +yourself too large an order.”</p> + +<p>Nance, on being consulted, thought it would +be wonderful to see all the old girls again before +embarking on her great adventure, so letters +were forthwith written and sent to the six friends, +who one and all joyfully accepted. Business, +husbands, babies, society were to be left behind +for this grand reunion of the old Queen’s crowd.</p> + +<p>Otoyo Sen, now Mrs. Matsuki, whose exceedingly +regretfully but honorable husband was +gone on short journey and baby Cho-Cho-San +must stay with humble mother for the wedding. +As Molly had expected to have the child, this was +as it should be.</p> + +<p>Katherine had demanded leave from the lectures +she was delivering, and Edith had an excellent +nurse for her baby and could leave her +family easily. Margaret Wakefield had no children +and was able to cancel the many engagements +that such an important person was sure to +have, and her house was in such good running +order that her husband, the rising young congressman,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +would want for nothing in her absence. +Jessie Lynch had declined two luncheons, a dinner +dance, and a theatre party, besides breaking +as many more engagements in order to come to +this wedding of the old college friend. Jessie +was still unmarried although she had been the one +that the prophecy had married off first. Pretty +little Jessie had so many lovers it was hard to +choose among them.</p> + +<p>The very first reply was from Judy and she, +Judy-like, answered in person. <a href="#Frontispiece">She blew in at +nightfall with a huge suitcase</a>, many parcels and +her gay chintz knitting bag stuffed full of various +things besides knitting.</p> + +<p>“Kent was dying to come but I told him no +children and dogs were allowed,” announced that +glowing young matron as she dropped her belongings, +scattering them all over the library +floor, and rushed around kissing and hugging +everybody in the room. “I have come to help. +I know you, Molly! You always act like triplets +when there is any work on hand, and I know you, +too, Nance! Your New England conscience will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +make you neglect Andy rather than seem to shirk +work. I am here to sweep and dust and cook, +take care of babies, or even to flirt with Andy if +Nance does not look after him. I am going to +dress the bride; find Edwin’s collar buttons and +studs for his dress shirt; see that the best man has +the ring safe in his pocket; pay the preacher; put +in the supply of rice and old shoes—in fact,” she +sang:</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the mate of the Nancy brig,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the crew of the captain’s gig.’”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The Greens had been sitting quite sedately +around the lamp engaged in their various occupations +when Judy burst in on them. The professor +was getting up a lecture for the morrow, +Mildred was cutting out paper dolls, and Molly +and Nance had for the moment put down their +eternal knitting and were giving their attention +to whipping on lace for the modest trousseau. +But the whirlwind that came in swept aside all +sane business. Needles were hastily thrust in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +cloth; thimbles were mislaid; paper dolls +dropped for something livelier; and lecture preparation +abandoned. When Judy, after the +breathless announcement of having come and her +reasons for coming, began on the Nancy Bell, +Edwin sprang to his feet and, joining in the +dance that Judy was improvising, sang in a rollicking +mixture of tenor and baritone:</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘And he shook his fist and tore his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I really felt afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I couldn’t help thinking the man had been drinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so I simply said:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘Oh, elderly man, it’s little I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the duties of men of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I’ll eat my hand if I understand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">However you can be<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘At once a cook and a captain bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the mate of the Nancy brig,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the crew of the captain’s gig.’”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Little Mildred clapped her hands to see her +dignified father cutting pigeon wings. She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +yet to learn that dignity and Mrs. Kent Brown +could not stay in the same room.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Judy! It is good to see you,” gasped +Molly when the chorus, in which all of them +joined, had been sung over twice. “What a +Judy you are, anyhow!”</p> + +<p>“Let me take your suitcase up-stairs,” suggested +Edwin.</p> + +<p>“And I will carry your parcels,” insisted +Nance, who was happy indeed over seeing her old +college friend again.</p> + +<p>“There is not a bit of use in taking a thing +up-stairs. All of my clothes are in the knitting +bag. Those parcels are wedding presents and +the suitcase is full of all kinds of plunder. This +big bundle is a tea basket from Kent and me. +You and Andy can go to housekeeping in it. We +thought you would rather have it than silver or +cut glass, since you are going where there are no +side boards to speak of.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Judy, how splendid! It is exactly what +I have been longing for,” cried Nance, opening +the charming Japanese basket. “Only look,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +plates, cups and saucers, tea pot, coffee pot, sugar +bowl, cream pitcher, spoons, knives, forks, cannisters +for coffee, tea, sugar, crackers, hard alcohol +stove, chafing dish and tea kettle! All packed +in two square feet of basket!”</p> + +<p>“A regular kitchen cabinet!” declared Molly. +“Nobody but Nance could ever get them packed +again in the right place, I am sure, Nance and +Otoyo, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“I just know Otoyo is going to bring her one +like mine! I never thought of that when I got +it. I saw it at Vantine’s and simply fell in love +with it. I wanted it so bad myself I got it for +Nance. If Otoyo does bring one, I will exchange +mine,” said Judy generously.</p> + +<p>“Indeed no! I wouldn’t mind having two +one bit and I am certainly not going to give +up my very first wedding present,” blushed +Nance.</p> + +<p>“Here is a steamer rug from dear old Mary +Stuart. See how warm and soft it is! This is +a pocket set of Shakespeare from Jimmy Lufton! +He brought it to the train!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But how lovely! I didn’t dream of getting +any presents,” said Nance.</p> + +<p>“How did they know about Nance?” asked +Molly.</p> + +<p>“I ’phoned them! I got your letter while +Kent was at the armory so I just called up everybody +I knew and told them the news. There is +no telling what the excess calls will amount to, +but I had either to do that or burst! ’Phoning +is cheaper than bursting.</p> + +<p>“Now I bet you can’t guess what is in +this great round box,” said the effervescent +Judy.</p> + +<p>“Your wedding hat!” solemnly suggested +Edwin.</p> + +<p>“Hat your grandmother! Guess again!”</p> + +<p>“A German bomb!”</p> + +<p>“No! Cold, cold! You’ll never get it! It +is a wedding cake sent by Madeline Petit and +Judith Blount. Now what do you think of +that?”</p> + +<p>“Wonderful!” cried Molly, as she lifted the +cake from its careful packing. “Fruit cake with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +white icing! How on earth did they happen to +do it?”</p> + +<p>“You see I ’phoned them, too, because I always +did like little Madeline in spite of the fact +that she talks a fellow’s ear off. I am not so fond +of Judith, but I do admire her. She has spunked +up so splendidly and taken her medicine like a +man. She and Madeline are doing a thriving +business in a swell part of town with tea rooms +and all kinds of fancy cakes. Judith was the one +who suggested sending the cake, Madeline told +me. She said Judith said she knew Molly +Brown would work herself to death over the +wedding and she, for one, was going to send +something to help out Molly. She said you +were just goose enough to make the cake at +home.”</p> + +<p>“I had planned to do it,” laughed Molly. “I +was going to start to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“This huge box is candy to eat right now—that +is Kent! I am almost afraid to eat it. He +wanted to come so bad that he might have +poisoned it for spite.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you let him come? Dear old +Kent!” exclaimed Molly.</p> + +<p>“Well, I knew perfectly well that it is some +job to sleep seven persons outside of one’s own +household, and it is doubly difficult when there +are two sexes. Kent is as busy as can be anyhow: +drilling day and night.”</p> + +<p>Kent Brown had taken the training at Plattsburg +and was then engaged in passing on this +training to a company of militia in New York. +He and Judy were eagerly awaiting the declaration +of war by the United States. There was no +such thing as neutrality for them. Having been +in France in that August of 1914, Judy considered +herself already at war and Kent enthusiastically +shared the sentiments of his wife. He +was prepared to leave his profession of architecture, +in which he was proving himself very successful, +and join any regiment that was likely to +see service.</p> + +<p>Judy had done exactly what the Marquis +d’Ochtè had asked her to do: she had come back +to New York and plunged into war relief work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +Because of her enthusiasm and untiring energy +she had been of great assistance in recruiting +workers. Her admiring husband said that she +was what one might call a real booster. Any +campaign Judy plunged in was sure to be a +whirlwind campaign. She had her father’s capacity +for infinite work. Up to a certain period +it had evinced itself in the form of infinite play, +but now that the serious side of life had presented +itself to her, the girl was working quite +as hard as she had ever played. There was never +anything half-way about our Judy. In New +York she was canvassing for suffrage, keeping +up her painting, and with her own hands cutting +and folding enough surgical dressings to fill the +peace ship, besides rounding up many workers +for the cause. With it all she managed to be a +very satisfactory wife and housekeeper. She and +Kent were blissfully happy. There were red letter +days in their calendar when both of them +stopped working and went on some mad frolic. +They had made many friends in New York, +friends with whom they both worked and played.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +They had a hospitable apartment where the redoubtable +Ca’line reigned in the tiny kitchen, +Ca’line, trained by Mrs. Brown at Chatsworth +and chastened by dear old Aunt Mary until she +“knowed her place an’ kep’ it.”</p> + +<p>Isn’t it fun to see Judy again? I hope my +readers feel as glad for her to come bounding into +these pages as the Greens and Nance Oldham did +when she opened the door of the library at the +Square Deal and, upsetting everything, scattered +papers and parcels hither and yon, her vivid +personality permeating every corner of the +room.</p> + +<p>Just before Judy said good-night, she paused +and exclaimed, “I must tell you, Molly, how +much I enjoy the dear little Virginia girls you +have passed on to me. The Tucker twins and +Page Allison are just about the nicest girls I +know, and Mary Flannagan is a duck. I used to +be an awful snob about college girls,—somehow, +I thought girls who did not go to college were not +worth knowing, but I have changed my mind +since I have met these girls. They are an interesting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +lot and as far as I can see know as much as +we do.”</p> + +<p>“I knew you would like them. I simply fell +in love with them last spring in Charleston. +Have you met their father?”</p> + +<p>“No, but he must be some father! The girls +call him Zebedee, which appeals to me, having +always called mine Bobby.”</p> + +<p>“Zebedee? What a strange name!” said +Nance.</p> + +<p>“They say it is because nobody ever believes +he is their father and so they want to know: +‘Who is the father of Zebedee’s children?’ It +seems he is only about twenty years older than +they are and is one of those persons who never +gets on in years. They declare they are really +more mature than he is and not nearly so agile,” +laughed Judy.</p> + +<p>“I have been meaning to ask them to Wellington +and must certainly do it before they go back +to Richmond,” declared Molly, on hospitality +bent as usual.</p> + +<p>“All right, honey, but let’s get Nance safely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +married and the wedding feast disposed of,” insisted +Judy, who thought her brother-in-law +looked a little alarmed, fearing that Molly might +decide that this was as good a time as any to have +the Tuckers and Page Allison visit them.</p> + +<p>“Of course! I didn’t mean now but later on, +although it is a pity to put it off too long,” teased +Molly, seeing the worried look on Edwin’s face. +“I might make up two bunks on the pantry +shelves and let one of them sleep in the bath tub.”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XI<br /> + +<small>AN INTERESTING COUPLE</small></h2> + + +<p>“I came from New York with a very interesting +couple,” said Judy the next day as she vigorously +stitched away at some of the wedding finery. +“Of course I talked to them—I always +talk to the interesting persons I meet traveling.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Molly as she finished a garment +and put it aside for Kizzie to press.</p> + +<p>“I never do,” sighed Nance. “I do wish I +had some of your and Judy’s warm-heartedness.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! Your heart is just as warm as +any that beats,” objected Molly. “Ask Andy!”</p> + +<p>“You see, honey, Vermont is Vermont and +Kentucky is Kentucky! Persons from Kentucky +haven’t quite as hard shells as the ones +from Vermont, but when once you get below the +shell the kernel is about the same. You and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +Molly couldn’t be any more alike than Kentucky +beeches and Vermont pines,” said Judy, pausing +long enough in her labors to give Nance an encouraging +pat.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and pines stay green all the year +around,” said Molly. “It is much better to be +a pine than a beech.”</p> + +<p>“Well, tell us about the interesting couple,” +laughed Nance, much comforted.</p> + +<p>“They were from Alsace but were very +French in their sympathies. They looked a little +German but they spoke beautiful French except +that they did have a tendency to call Paris +‘Baree.’ They love Paris as much as I do. The +man, Misel is his name, Monsieur Jean Misel,—is +the best informed person I have seen for many +a day. He knows the war situation as few persons +do, I am sure. He seems to have been everywhere +and known everybody. He even knew my +father,—at least, knew all about him and was +greatly interested in the fact that Bobby is soon +to sail for France to help rebuild the roads. +Madame Misel is much quieter than her husband<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +but is very intelligent, I am sure. With all her +reserve, she never misses a trick.”</p> + +<p>“Where was this interesting couple going?” +asked Molly.</p> + +<p>“Coming right here to Wellington! They +have taken a cottage in the village and mean to +live here. He is writing and she wants to do war +work.”</p> + +<p>“How splendid!” cried Molly. “We need +workers more than I can tell you. The students +give what time they can, but a full college course +is about all a normal girl can take care of in the +way of work.”</p> + +<p>“You must call on them right off, Molly. I +will go with you and Edwin must go, too. I +know he will like Monsieur Misel.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll ask him, but Edwin is sure to want to +know why this lover of Paris is not fighting for +France.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, the poor fellow! He is quite lame—walks +with a cane and a crutch. He hinted +rather darkly that his lameness is in some way +due to the Germans, but I do not know in just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +what way. He was sensitive about his affliction, +so his wife told me when he left us and went in +the smoker, so naturally I did not ask him how +the Germans were responsible for it. He is a +young man, too, that is under forty, and very +handsome.”</p> + +<p>Professor Green was quite interested in what +Judy had to tell him of the Misels. He promised +to call with Molly and do all he could to make +Wellington pleasant for them. He looked forward +with pleasure to the conversations Judy assured +him he would enjoy with that highly educated +gentleman. Holding the chair of English +in a woman’s college is not bad, but there were +times when Edwin Green longed for more man +talk. He and Dr. McLean were sworn friends +and saw much of each other, but they both of +them welcomed with enthusiasm any masculine +newcomer.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if your friend could teach French, +Judy,” asked her brother-in-law. “Miss Walker +is quite put to it for the end of the term. The +French professor took French leave last week.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +He seemed too old to hold anything more +weighty than a pen, but he has gone to fight.”</p> + +<p>“That is the terrible part of it,” sighed Judy. +“They say all the superannuated dancing masters +and French teachers are leaving to take up +arms. It means that France is having a hard +time. Why, oh why, don’t we hurry up and get +in the game?”</p> + +<p>The call was made and Molly and her husband +were quite as enthusiastic as Judy had been over +the charms of the new neighbors. Monsieur +Misel seemed the very person to take up the labors +of the flown French professor, and Miss +Walker accordingly engaged him. Molly felt +she must have them to dinner in spite of the fact +that she was deep in the preparations for the +wedding.</p> + +<p>“I’ll have a very simple dinner and not make +company of them, just make them feel at home,” +she declared, and her husband and Nance and +Judy smiled knowingly. Molly always would +have company and there was no use in trying to +stop her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I know when I die she will feel called upon +to give me a good wake,” laughed Edwin.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, if people come hungry to your +funeral, I’ll feed them,” answered Molly.</p> + +<p>“Are our new friends, the Misels, hungry?”</p> + +<p>“Not hungry for food, but they must be +lonely so far away from their country and +friends. Anyhow, they are invited now and have +accepted, so there is no use in teasing me. You +just see that there are cigars here for Monsieur +Misel to smoke after dinner, and I’ll attend to the +rest.”</p> + +<p>How sad it was to see a man of Misel’s beauty +a hopeless cripple! He was a tall, stalwart fellow +with a military bearing which the use of a +crutch and cane could not take from him. His +lameness had not affected the comeliness of his +limbs or his erect carriage. He had very courteous +manners and it seemed to be very hard on +him not to spring from his seat when a lady entered +the room.</p> + +<p>On the evening of Molly’s informal dinner +when Nance, who was the only member of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +household who had not met the strangers, came +into the library, Misel stood up to be introduced, +but his wife gave a low cry of alarm and sprang +to his assistance, eagerly placing his crutch in one +hand, his cane in the other. He sank to his seat +with a smothered groan.</p> + +<p>“Jean, Jean! What am I to do with you?” +said Madame Misel irritably. “He is so imprudent,” +apologetically to Molly, who had tears in +her eyes at this exhibition of courage and weakness. +She could well understand how Monsieur +Misel’s courteous desires could get the better of +his strength.</p> + +<p>Andy McLean was present and the doctor +in him immediately became interested in the +pitiable case. He had none of the hesitation +Judy had shown in regard to questioning +the Misels concerning the cause of the lameness.</p> + +<p>“What is your trouble?” he asked bluntly. +“If you can stand without support as you did a +moment ago, I see no reason why you cannot be +cured.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>“In time! In time!” said Misel with patient +resignation.</p> + +<p>“He has had the best medical attention,” put +in his wife.</p> + +<p>Madame Misel usually spoke with a kind of +slow hesitation, but now her words came rapidly. +She had the air of trying to shield her husband +from farther questioning on the part of Andy. +Andy, however, was totally oblivious of this fact +and went on.</p> + +<p>“Who is his surgeon?”</p> + +<p>“The great F——, in Baree!”</p> + +<p>“What did he say?” asked Andy, impressed +by the name.</p> + +<p>“He—he—said—nerve centres—disturbed,” +answered Madame, returning to her hesitating +speech. She did not stammer at all but seemed +to pause to choose her words.</p> + +<p>“If I can be of any assistance to you, I hope +you will call on me,” said Andy kindly.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Misel sat with his hands over +his eyes as though in great pain and his wife +hovered over him solicitously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dinner was soon announced and this time the +lame man arose very cautiously and made his way +slowly to the dining-room.</p> + +<p>“Kindly—go—in—front—of—us,” faltered +Madame, and Molly marshalled her family and +guests so that the Misels might bring up the rear. +She fully appreciated how the wife felt about +wanting to be the one to assist her poor lame +husband. If her Edwin had been so crippled +no one should have helped him but his own +wife.</p> + +<p>Molly turned to smile on the poor woman for +whom her heart was sore. She could well understand +the misery it must bring to see one most +dear having to suffer so acutely. There was a +dark place in the hall leading to the dining-room +and the hostess feared the poor lame man might +stumble there, so she stopped to warn him of a +rug. She distinctly heard Madame say to her +husband in no gentle tones but with an asperity +almost malevolent:</p> + +<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Narr! Narr!”</i></p> + +<p>Molly began assiduously to hunt in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +archives of her brain for the small German vocabulary +which she could call her own.</p> + +<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Narr!</i> What can <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">narr</i> mean?” the question +kept recurring to her as dinner progressed. She +visualized lists of words in a worn old blank book +used at school. “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Narr</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nase</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nesse</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nest!”</i> +She tried to remember the English on the opposite +page. How well she remembered the little +old book wherein was written the despised +German exercises. The script in itself had been +almost impossible to learn and as for mastering +the language,—she had been so half-hearted +about it that she had not been compelled to keep +it up.</p> + +<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Narr</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nase</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nesse</i>, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nest!”</i> ran through and +through and over and over in her mind. Suddenly +just as Professor Green asked her what she +would say to adjourning to the library, the list +of English words flashed on her brain.</p> + +<p>“‘Fool, nose, nephew, nest’!” she cried audibly.</p> + +<p>“What?” Edwin feared his Molly had gone +crazy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh—I—I—mean, yes—coffee in the library!” +and she arose from her seat in confusion.</p> + +<p>Why should that calm-looking, slow-speaking +woman call her poor lame husband a fool? +<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Narr! Narr!</i> It was certainly strange.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XII<br /> + +<small>AN OLD-TIME PARTY</small></h2> + + +<p>The first one of the old girls to arrive was +Otoyo, Mrs. Matsuki, with the little Cho-Cho-San. +Otoyo had changed not at all in the years +that had elapsed since college days. Perhaps an +added matronly dignity was hers, but this was +not much in evidence when she was with her dear +old friends. She was beautifully and elegantly +dressed. All her clothes were made of the most +exquisite fabrics. Her blouses were of the finest +and sheerest, if of linen; and the heaviest and +richest, if of silk. Her furs were the furriest and +her suits of the most approved cut and material. +Her little boots were a marvel of fit and style.</p> + +<p>“Perfect, like a Japanese puzzle!” Judy declared. +“Every little part made to fit every +other little part!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes, and the whole a wonderful creation like +some rare print or bit of pottery!” agreed Molly.</p> + +<p>Otoyo had adapted herself to the manners and +customs of her adopted country, wearing them +with the same grace she did the garments. She +had an English nurse for the little Cho-Cho-San +and the child was being reared as much like +American children as possible. A tiny little +thing, she was, with coal black hair and slanting +eyes. There was much mischief peeping from +those eyes around the tip-tilted nose. The mouth +was a crimson bow, ever ready to break into a +tinkling laugh. She and Mildred rushed together +as though their short lives had been spent +waiting for this opportunity. Mildred was +younger by several months but taller by several +inches than the little Japanese. What a picture +the two children made! Mildred, with her red +gold hair curling in little ringlets all over her +head, her round rosy face and wide hazel eyes, +was exactly the opposite to Cho-Cho-San, with +her straight, bobbed, ebony black hair, her oval, +olive face and almond eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I b’lieve I can tote you,” said Mildred, who +often used words current in Kizzie’s vernacular.</p> + +<p>“Tote! Tote! What is tote?” and the tinkling +laugh rang out like glass chimes assailed by +a sudden gust of wind.</p> + +<p>“Why I tote my dolly—an’ Mr. Murphy totes +the coal—an’—an’ Daddy totes his books to +lexures—an’—an’—”</p> + +<p>“May I tote something, also?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you can tote Dodo. He’s my baby +brother.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee!” and the +little thing danced in glee. “My honorable +mother told me when I came for a visit to her +friends that it would be all ’appiness.” The +English nurse had left her stamp upon her charge +just as Kizzie had upon Mildred. The occasional +dropping of an h was the result. Cho-Cho-San’s +lingo was most amusing with its mixture of Cockney +and Japanese.</p> + +<p>“You’d look ’zactly like my Jap dolly if you +only had a bald spot on top,” said Mildred as she +led her new friend to the sunny nursery where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +and Dodo reigned supreme with the Irish Katy +to do their bidding.</p> + +<p>“And phwat Haythen is this?” cried Katy +when she saw the little Japanese girl. “And +ain’t she the cutey?”</p> + +<p>“She’s my bes’ beloved,” announced Mildred. +“Me’n’ Cho-Cho-San is gonter be each other’s +doll babies. I’m a-gonter be her kick-up dolly +an’ she’s gonter be my Jap dolly.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee!” was all +the tiny Haythen could say as she danced around +the nursery.</p> + +<p>“Aunt Nance done said we could be her flower +girls, too,” went on the loquacious Mildred. +“We’s all gonter get married day after another +day.”</p> + +<p>“All the doll babies going to be married!” +sang the guest. “Kick-up dolls and Japanese +dolls!”</p> + +<p>The Williams girls arrived next and close on +their heels Margaret and Jessie. I cannot bring +myself to designate the girls by their married +names any more than they could one another.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +Husbands were not much in evidence at that +gathering. The talk was all of the past. Of course +Andy, the soon-to-be husband, was allowed +some consideration, although the first night after +the arrival of the guests even he was debarred +and the old chums had a kimono party in the library. +The host fortunately had an engagement +that took him from home, otherwise he would +have had to spend his evening shut up in his den.</p> + +<p>The revellers opened the ball by singing +“Drink her down,” to each one in the crowd. +Molly’s old guitar was brought out and Otoyo +produced a tiny ukelele which added much to +the harmony. After the singing was finished and +every one drunk down, the words that were used +most often were: “Do you remember?” All of +the scrapes were recalled and talked over. Bits +of gossip were recounted that had never come to +light before, the noblesse oblige of the college +spirit having kept matters dark, but now that the +years had rolled by there seemed to be no longer +reason for silence.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to get into some mischief this very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +night!” cried Judy. “I’ve been good and pious +so long I feel like whooping life up a bit.”</p> + +<p>“I’m game,” drawled Katherine Williams.</p> + +<p>“Did I hear an aye from the eminent educator?” +questioned Judy.</p> + +<p>“That’s me!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do whatever it is if I don’t have to walk +too far,” said lazy Jessie.</p> + +<p>“But what are you to do?” from Margaret, +in whom the spirit of adventure was not so rampant.</p> + +<p>“Listen to the Gentleman from Missouri!” +cried Judy. “Come on and we’ll show +you.”</p> + +<p>“I like very muchly to be in the vehicle of +musicians but I also like muchly to know what is +the ultimately destination,” said Otoyo softly.</p> + +<p>“She means the band wagon! She means the +band wagon!” cried Judy. “Oh, my dear little +Otoyo, if you were changed I could not bear this +sad grey world.”</p> + +<p>“Others, too, have notly changed,” said Otoyo +slyly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What are you planning, Judy honey?” +asked Molly, laughing.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t any plan—nothing but something +crazy and adventurous. I am dead tired of being +so good and proper. I have rolled bandages and +drawn threads and cut gauze until I feel like a +machine. I want to have a romantic adventure. +I’d like to put a tick-tack on Miss Walker’s window—I’d +like to burn asafetida on the teacher’s +stove, or put red pepper in the Bible so when +she opens it to read she would sneeze her head +off. I might content myself with making an +apple pie bed for my dear brother-in-law——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, please not that!” begged Molly. “My +supply of sheets is stretched to the limit.”</p> + +<p>“O. Henry would advise you to go out in the +night and await Adventure. Adventure is always +just around the corner. Step up to him +and tap him on the shoulder,” suggested Katherine.</p> + +<p>“It is very comfortable in here,” purred Jessie.</p> + +<p>“Infirm of purpose!” cried Judy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, I’m not infirm of purpose,” said +Molly. “I’ve been purposing all along to have +a Welsh rarebit and make some cloudbursts and +I’m still going to do it. If you Don Quixotes +want to go off and hunt trouble in the meantime, +though, you are welcome, only don’t stay too +long.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t Molly the broad-minded guy, though? +Live and let live was always Molly. Aren’t you +coming, Nance?” And Judy sprang from her +cross-legged position on the rug ready for any +fray. “Come on, Margaret! Come on, Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know Edith is too stuffy to do +such a thing? She’s afraid her perfectly good +husband would not approve,” teased her sister.</p> + +<p>“No such thing, but I’m not going. I mean +to help Molly. You crazy kids go get in all the +trouble you want to. Me for the house this +night!”</p> + +<p>“And Margaret? You, too, must keep the +‘home fires burning,’ I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to stir the rarebit,” announced +Margaret firmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I’m going to pick out nuts for the cloudbursts,” +purred Jessie.</p> + +<p>“I must whip lace,” blushed Nance.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you middle-aged persons! I bite my +thumb at you!” cried Judy. “Who among you +is young enough to go hunt adventure?”</p> + +<p>“I told you I intended to go,” said Katherine, +looking rather longingly at the crowded shelves +of poetry that she was simply dying to poke in. +“No one is going to call me middle-aged.”</p> + +<p>“And I, too, will take greatly pleasure to +knock the kindling from the shoulder of Adventure,” +said little Otoyo.</p> + +<p>“She means the chip! She means the chip!” +screamed the delighted Judy. “Oh, Otoyo, I +love you in all the world next to my immediate +family!”</p> + +<p>It took but a moment to slip on great coats +over kimonos and then, heavily veiled, the three +adventuresses started forth, with admonitions +from Molly not to be gone more than half an +hour.</p> + +<p>“And please don’t get arrested!” she called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +after them. “Kent says he always expects Judy +to get arrested some day. This spirit of adventure +seizes her every now and then and nothing +will stop her.”</p> + +<p>“It is well it struck her here at Wellington +instead of in New York. She can’t get into very +much mischief here,” laughed Edith.</p> + +<p>“She could in the old days,” put in Margaret, +“but now that she is not compelled to keep rules +I fancy she will not care to break them. What a +Judy she is! It must be great to have her in the +family, Molly.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed it is! She is the favorite in-law with +the whole lot of Browns. Mother adores her and +all the boys think she is just about perfect. Even +Aunt Clay can’t help liking her.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder what they will find to-night. I almost +wish I had left the lace off of this old camisole +and gone with them,” said Nance.</p> + +<p>“I think you need not hunt adventure right +now,” drawled Jessie. “Any girl who is deliberately +getting married and going to the war +zone will have enough to keep her busy for a lifetime.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +I don’t believe they will do more than go +to the drug store and get limeades.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know Judy and Katherine,” said +Edith, “and little Otoyo with her determination +to knock the kindling from the shoulder of Adventure. +I wonder what Mr. Matsuki would say +if he could know that his sedate little wife is engaged +in such a harum scarum pursuit.”</p> + +<p>“Why, he would just smile and bow and look +more like an ivory Buddha than ever. Otoyo has +the charming little gentleman completely under +her thumb. She works a kind of mental jiu jitsu +on him and he just lets her have her way. The +joke of it is he thinks she is the most docile, obedient +little wife in all the world, and so she is. +She simply makes him want what she wants,” explained +Molly.</p> + +<p>Molly was busily engaged in the preparations +for the midnight feast. It would have been +simpler and easier just to have gone to the +kitchen and made the rarebit over the gas stove, +but that would not have been at all like college +days and this night must be as near a reproduction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +of those times as possible. Chafing dishes +must be used and dishes must be scarce or the +spell would be broken.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII<br /> + +<small>ADVENTURE</small></h2> + + +<p>It was after ten o’clock as the three veiled figures +glided from the square house on the campus. +The night was dark, fit for the deed they had to +do. They did not know what the deed was but +whatever it was the intrepid females were fully +prepared to do it.</p> + +<p>“First we’ll go by Prexy’s house and perchance +she may see us and then we’ll run. That +will be fun!” suggested Judy. “Nothing would +so warm my old blood as to be taken for a junior.”</p> + +<p>It so happened that a consultation was being +held at the president’s home and as they passed, +Miss Walker opened the front door and Professor +Green emerged.</p> + +<p>“Ministers and saints defend us! My +brother-in-law!” cried Judy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Who is that?” called Miss Walker as the +three girls ran swiftly out of the broad band of +light pouring from the open door.</p> + +<p>“Run for your lives!” hissed Judy.</p> + +<p>“Shall I chase them?” laughed Professor +Green. “I’d much rather not.”</p> + +<p>“No,” sighed poor Prexy. “I fancy they are +up to no harm, but it is late for girls to be out +alone. Such terrible things seem to be happening +all over the world. I’ll have to deliver a lecture +to the whole student body, I am afraid, +about late rambles and pranks.”</p> + +<p>“Those girls were veiled, so evidently whatever +they were doing they did not want to be +recognized. I’d hate to hold your job, Miss +Walker. I’d much rather be the humble professor +of English.”</p> + +<p>“Surely it is not a sinecure,” laughed the president, +“but when all is told, my girls are a pretty +good lot. Their mischief is never, at least hardly +ever, serious. How glad I am to see Judy Kean +again,—Mrs. Kent Brown! She is the same old +Judy. Such pranks as that child could play! I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +shall never forget when she dyed her hair purple-black.”</p> + +<p>“Judy is a great girl. I am glad we married +into the same family,” declared the professor. +“But tell me, Miss Walker, how Misel is doing. +I feel quite responsible for him since it was I who +introduced him to you.”</p> + +<p>“The students like him. He seems to be able +to impart knowledge. I am afraid he is too handsome, +however. It isn’t quite safe to have a +professor too good-looking. College girls are +very impressionable.” Then Miss Walker realized +she had made quite a break. Edwin Green +was certainly a very good-looking man but not +the type to make girls languish with love. While +M. Misel was a much more romantic figure with +his flashing eyes and lameness.</p> + +<p>“Are the girls losing their hearts to him?” +laughed Edwin. “Again I am thankful I am +what I am and not what others are.”</p> + +<p>And so the two old friends chatted in the +doorway while the three veiled figures made their +way towards the village.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>“We got them going that time,” panted Judy +after the run through the dark. “I bet you anything +Prexy lectures the girls to-morrow morning. +Dear Prexy!”</p> + +<p>“Let’s tick-tack the math teacher. I bet you +she’s still out of bed thinking up deviltry to make +the girls miserable with on the morrow,” suggested +Katherine.</p> + +<p>“I can make a noise very muchly like a cat. +Would not that be as gruesomely as a mathematicktack? +We might be the Musicians of +Bremen, as one reads in the beautifully fairy +story.”</p> + +<p>“Fine, Otoyo! Here’s her domicile! Cut +loose!” whispered Judy. “I’ll be the donkey +and Katherine crow like the rooster.”</p> + +<p>Crouched down under the window where a +light still burned for the much abused teacher of +mathematics, the Musicians of Bremen, all but +the dog, got ready for their song. The noise was +something shocking. Judy’s bray was so lifelike +that little Otoyo sprang aside as though in fear +of kicking hind legs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>A dog in the neighborhood, feeling that harmony +could be established by his voice alone, +joined in the chorus.</p> + +<p>Windows were opened on the campus! Silence +reigned supreme!</p> + +<p>“Don’t run!” whispered Judy. “Scrooge +down close to the wall.”</p> + +<p>“Who is there?” called the math teacher.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dog went on howling as though he had +been responsible for the whole infernal racket. +His timely tact seemed to satisfy the curious ones +and windows were closed, lights went out and the +campus took itself off to bed.</p> + +<p>“Once more for luck!” commanded Great +Commander Judy.</p> + +<p>“Practice makes perfect,” so this time the +Musicians of Bremen outdid themselves. Otoyo +made a most wonderful pussy; Maud Adams herself +could not have been a more realistic chanticler +than Katherine; and Judy’s donkey was so +good that one could almost see the ears wagging +as her great bray made night hideous.</p> + +<p>“Now run before they have a chance to open<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +their windows!” and Judy was up and off in the +darkness with the two other girls close on her +heels.</p> + +<p>“I bet you investigating will go on at a great +rate to-morrow,” gasped Katherine, as after leaving +the college grounds they came to the outskirts +of the village.</p> + +<p>“It was so funnily,” giggled Otoyo. “We +must amusement make for the smally Mildred +and Cho-Cho when the to-morrow has +come.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t believe I am a full-fledged teacher in +a model modern school in our great metropolis,” +said Katherine. “I feel just exactly like a +schoolgirl,—not even a college girl. I know I +could run a mile and there is no mischief I would +not welcome.”</p> + +<p>“I tooly!” agreed Otoyo. “It seems but a +dream that I have honorable husband and smally +babee, Cho-Cho. I feel like badly naughtily +Japanese girl in masque.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is surely great to be a boy again just +for to-night,” declared Judy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What next?” asked Katherine.</p> + +<p>“Next will be our great adventure! This has +been only in the foothills of happenings. Soon +we will have something really great come to us,” +encouraged the captain.</p> + +<p>The village was well-lighted on the principal +street, but that the girls avoided and crept down +the side streets where all was quiet and almost +dark, except at the corners where small gas-posts +sent out feeble rays of light. They passed comfortable +homes surrounded by large yards where +the élite of Wellington lived. The élite were +evidently a well-behaved lot, as they were all +safely bestowed in bed, sleeping the sleep of the +just as our naughty girls crept in front of their +spacious mansions.</p> + +<p>Next to the great, came the near great: a row +of pleasant cottages, each one with its little garden +separated from its neighbor’s by neat whitewashed +palings. After these, they approached a +cottage set in a large yard and isolated as much +as if it were in the country. It was well back +from the street and instead of the white palings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +of its neighbors, it boasted a box hedge about five +feet high and at least three feet broad. Generations +of close clipping had made this hedge as +solid as a brick wall. The yard enclosed was laid +out as a formal garden with box labyrinth and +winding paths. In the rear was a summer-house +with stone pillars covered with ivy. Two stone +benches were on each side in this quaint house +where no doubt dead and gone lovers had sat and +perhaps caught rheumatism. Box bushes were +placed at the four sides of the garden and these +had been cut to represent armchairs by some +zealous gardener long since passed away. The +modern shears had but followed the lines of the +original ones and the armchairs were still there +although somewhat lopsided and hazy in drawing. +There was the sun-dial and a snub-nosed +stone Hebe who held aloft her little pitcher with +a cup in the other hand ready to serve the Gods +with imperceptible nectar.</p> + +<p>Our girls’ eyes had become accustomed to the +darkness and they peeped over the hedge (at +least Katherine and Judy did, poor little Otoyo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +was too short), plainly discerning the charming +ensemble of the little formal garden.</p> + +<p>“There, Adventure awaits us!” said Katherine +melodramatically.</p> + +<p>“I want muchly to see,” pleaded Otoyo. So +Judy lifted her up for a peep.</p> + +<p>“I believe that is where the Misels live,” said +Judy. “It looks quite different at night, but +I’m almost sure it is the place. Molly and I +called at dusk and we came up on the other side, +but I think it is this cottage. Isn’t it lovely? I +am so sorry for them, they do seem so friendless, +somehow. Madame is already working for the +Red Cross. Molly says she can make surgical +dressings faster than anybody she ever saw. She +takes them home and does them and brings them +back so neatly folded and tied up that they think +it is perfect foolishness to inspect them. They +are sure there will be no mistakes where such a +careful worker is on the job. M. Misel is so +lame he can hardly locomote.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s go in their garden and sit down a little +while,” suggested Katherine, who but a few moments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +before had declared she could run a mile. +The sedentary life as a teacher had not improved +her wind. Her spirits might have been those of +a schoolgirl but her endurance was equal only to +a full-fledged teacher in a model school.</p> + +<p>They passed through the small green turnstile +and silently crept around the labyrinth to the +summer-house. The three girls sank on one of +the cold stone benches and peered out into the +picturesque garden. Their veils were raised but +ready to be pulled down at a moment’s notice.</p> + +<p>“Ghosts might walk in such a garden,” whispered +Judy.</p> + +<p>“The bench is coldly like a ghost,” shivered +Otoyo.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV<br /> + +<small>AS SEEN FROM THE SUMMER-HOUSE</small></h2> + + +<p>“And now, Adventure, come forth!” commanded +Katherine in sepulchral tones.</p> + +<p>The side door of the cottage, leading to the +garden, now opened as though at Katherine’s orders, +and a broad ribbon of light fell across the +labyrinth, picking out the snub-nosed Hebe and +the sun-dial and one of the box chairs to illuminate. +A man’s figure was silhouetted in the +doorway, a figure so beautiful that the artist in +Judy gasped. He had on running togs which +exposed his clean-cut limbs and shapely shoulders. +A woman stood beside him and Judy recognized +the outline of Madame Misel. The +Greek god of a man was strange to her, although +there was something familiar about the poise of +his head on its column-like neck.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>The woman spoke in German in a low clear +voice. Judy and Katherine both knew German +fairly well and Otoyo had some knowledge of it. +They heard Madame Misel say distinctly:</p> + +<p>“It is wiser if you wait until midnight for the +exercises. Some of these blockheads might be +out.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, absurd!” answered the man. “There is +no one in this whole stupid place with the spirit to +be from under cover after ten. I am cramped +enough and must run and leap. Stand aside!”</p> + +<p>“Misel, himself!” gasped Judy. Where were +his crutch and cane and his lame back?</p> + +<p>The girls sat as still as the stone Hebe. It was +inky black in their corner of the summer-house +where they cowered, not afraid at all but ready to +knock the chip from the shoulder of Adventure. +Judy’s first instinct on recognizing Madame +Misel was to make herself known and explain +their presence in her garden at such a late hour, +but the realization that Misel was the man in running +togs, which usually means running, glued +her to her bench. What did it all mean?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>The door was shut and then Misel began a +series of exercises of which any circus actor might +have been proud. He began by leaping over the +clipped hedge of the labyrinth,—back and forth +with most surprising gyrations. It was so dark +that it was difficult to follow his every movement, +and so rapid were his leaps and bounds that he +was now here, now there before eyes could be focussed +to take in the impression. Then almost +without the girls realizing what had happened, he +had cleared the five-foot hedge and was out on +the deserted street running like a deer.</p> + +<p>“Quick, before he is back!” gasped Judy, and +the seekers for sensations were out of the garden +and through the little turnstile in not much more +time than it had taken the master of the house to +leap the hedge.</p> + +<p>Without a word they hastened back to the college +grounds. As they turned a corner, they ran +plump into Misel, who seemed to have let off +steam enough to be trotting contentedly home. +They need not have feared him. He was much +more anxious to escape from them than they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +from him. He turned and ran like the wind in +the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>“Gee, I wish we could have tripped him up!” +exclaimed Judy.</p> + +<p>“And I might have jiu jitsued him most neatlily,” +put in little Otoyo. “I think he is what +you might call a traitor-r-r.”</p> + +<p>“I was never more excited in my life. What +will the girls think when we tell them of what has +happened to us?” panted Katherine.</p> + +<p>“Do you realize we have run against a tremendous +thing?” said Judy soberly. “Almost international +importance! I fancy we must keep +kind of quiet about it. Of course we will tell +Molly and Edwin and the girls, but I have an +idea this thing will have to be worked up slowly +and cautiously. I bet you it will be a case of secret +service men and enemy aliens and what not. +Why should Misel have pretended to be lame? +Why should they come to live at Wellington? +Why—a million whys about the whole matter!”</p> + +<p>“One thing:—Misel thought we were college<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +girls on a lark and he will have no fear of our saying +we met him or anyone outside the campus at +such an hour,” said Katherine wisely.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XV<br /> + +<small>THE PROFESSOR AT A KIMONO PARTY</small></h2> + + +<p>The Welsh rarebit was just assuming its required +thickness and smoothness and the toast +was done to a turn ready to receive its libation of +cheese, when the wanderers came pattering in.</p> + +<p>“Where is Edwin?” demanded Judy.</p> + +<p>“In his den! You see this is a kimono party +and gentlemen are not admitted,” said Molly, +helping Judy off with her coat and veil. “Now +tell us all about it! Something has happened, I +can see by your eyes and hair.”</p> + +<p>“Happened! I should say it has! Something +has bounced! Call Edwin! I don’t give a hang +if we are in kimonos! I’ll be bound he does not +know a kimono from a ball gown—I can’t tell it +twice.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Otoyo and I are not dumb. We might help +out when you fall by the wayside,” laughed Katherine, +“but I, for one, don’t mind the professor.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I! Nor I!” chorused the others.</p> + +<p>“I think mine is vastly becoming,” Jessie whispered +to Margaret, who called her a vain puss.</p> + +<p>Edwin came in, rather pleased at being admitted +and being allowed to have some of the +party.</p> + +<p>“I never expected to get in on a fudge party,” +he said, contentedly settling himself by Judy, +who was bursting with news.</p> + +<p>“Now begin!” commanded Margaret, rapping +for order in much the old manner of class +president and presiding officer.</p> + +<p>“Begin at the beginning!” begged Edith.</p> + +<p>“Well, first we went by Prexy’s, just to get +the feeling of youth back in our veins. She saw +us, but we chased by.”</p> + +<p>“So it was you! I wish I had run you down,” +cried the brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>“It is a blessing you did not or a good story +would have been ruined,” said Katherine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret rapped for order and Judy took up +the tale.</p> + +<p>“Then we went to call on Mattie Math. She +was burning the midnight oil, at least the 10 <span class="smcap">p. m.</span> +oil, and when we acted the Musicians of Bremen, +she threw up the sash.”</p> + +<p>“The hash? What hash?” asked Jessie, who +often arrived a bit late. Shrieks and more rappings +from Margaret.</p> + +<p>“My, how much I have missed in never being +asked to a kimono party before,” whispered the +male guest in Judy’s ear.</p> + +<p>“After we had brayed and crowed and +meouwed and a dog had barked for us——”</p> + +<p>“All together!” cried Katherine, and the musicians +gave a sample of their performance, Mrs. +Matsuki outdoing all cats by her lifelike caterwauling.</p> + +<p>“After that, we went silently down to the village.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe it, not silently!” asserted Edwin.</p> + +<p>“No interruptions from the minority! We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +went silently down to the village, veils down, +steps stealthy, eyes open and mouths shut. The +garden at the Misels’ was most inviting in its +sweetness and beauty. Of course we wanted to +go in and rest on the nice warm stone benches, so +we walked through the turnstile and seated ourselves +in the little dark summer-house, there to +await Adventure.”</p> + +<p>“Bang! Adventure comes stalkingly in!” +cried Otoyo.</p> + +<p>“Leaping was more like it!” from Katherine.</p> + +<p>“Yes! Who should come springing from the +side door, totally oblivious of us, but Misel, +stripped for running and looking like a detail +from a Greek frieze!”</p> + +<p>“Monsieur Misel! Why, Judy, you are mad! +Misel is so lame he can’t stand alone without +crutch and cane!” cried Molly.</p> + +<p>“Lame your grandmother! He is a perfect +circus actor. I have never seen a private citizen +with such control of his muscles. He actually +turned somersaults over the hedge in the labyrinth, +walked on his hands better than I can on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +my feet, and cleared the five-foot hedge that borders +the street with as much ease as—as—I eat +this fudge,” reaching for another piece.</p> + +<p>“But, Judy, are you sure it was he?” asked +Edwin excitedly.</p> + +<p>“Of course I am sure!” And then Judy repeated +the conversation they had overheard between +Misel and his wife. “My German is shady +when I have to use it, but I can understand very +well.”</p> + +<p>“So can I,” declared Katherine.</p> + +<p>“And while I am constructionally verily faultily, +I comprehend can,” said Otoyo, so excited +that she ran off to adverb forms as was her wont +in times of stress.</p> + +<p>“This is serious,” said Edwin solemnly. “So +serious that I feel I must do something about it +and do it immediately. What time is it, honey?” +he asked Molly.</p> + +<p>“Eleven-fifty! Why, what can you do? Not +go fight Misel—not that!”</p> + +<p>“No, not that, at least not that yet, although I +should like to break his lying crutch over his traitorous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +head. I must get in touch with the Secret +Service. War will be declared any day now and +Germany is getting busy even in quiet Wellington.”</p> + +<p>“You forget Exmoor College is so near,” put +in Margaret. “Our college boys will officer the +new army in part. I’ll wager anything that this +man has already begun his pacifist propaganda +here in Wellington and at Exmoor, too. Has he +been to Exmoor?”</p> + +<p>“Why, certainly! He got me to take him +over and introduce him, the beast!” stormed Edwin. +“Please pack my little grip for me, honey,” +he asked, drawing Molly to him. “I can catch +the twelve-forty to New York. Don’t give out +that I am away. We had better do a little camouflage +act of our own. I am ill, very ill! That +will do! Let it be—what shall it be?”</p> + +<p>“Mumps!” cried Edith.</p> + +<p>“Not mumps, please!” cried Jessie. “Nothing +contagious or we might catch it!”</p> + +<p>“Or worse than that, even, be quarantined!” +laughed Nance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Pretty hard on you, honey, as it would stop +the ceremony,” suggested Molly.</p> + +<p>“What do you usually have when you have +anything?” asked Margaret with her judicial +manner.</p> + +<p>“Neuralgia!”</p> + +<p>“Then neuralgia would be the natural thing to +have when you have not anything.”</p> + +<p>“Of course! Then, Molly, all day to-morrow +your poor husband is ill with neuralgia. Not +even the servants and children must come in my +darkened room. I’ll be home in the night and +wake up the next morning feeling much better,” +and Molly hurried off to pack the grip.</p> + +<p>“In time to give the bride away!” suggested +Judy.</p> + +<p>“May I tell Andy all about it?” asked Nance +shyly.</p> + +<p>“Of course! We would not be so cruel as to +make you start out with a secret from your lord +and master,” said Edwin.</p> + +<p>“It makes me so mad to think how kind Andy +was to that man, offering his medical services to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +him and what not. I know the brutes had a good +laugh over his gullibility. Andy told me afterwards +that he could not understand the case, and +if the man wasn’t shamming, it was the most peculiar +thing he had ever seen: the way he jumped +up out of his chair when he was so lame.”</p> + +<p>“Now I remember that very night that I heard +Madame Misel call her husband a fool on the way +into the dining-room. I had forgotten all about +it until this minute. I kept wondering what she +meant,” said Molly.</p> + +<p>“I tell you they are deep ones,” put in Katherine.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it!” stormed Judy. “They are +the worst of all fools because they think no one +else has any sense. Bobby, my beloved parent, +always says that is the worst kind of fool. That +the wise man, who wants to put over anything, +must go to work with the idea that all the persons +he wants the scheme to get by with have as much +and more sense than he has. Now these Huns +think they are the only pebbles on the beach and +take for granted that they are dealing with children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +and fools, and as a rule they get caught up +with.”</p> + +<p>“Not before they do lots of damage, however,” +said Nance.</p> + +<p>“I hope in this instance their machinations +have not done any,” said Edwin devoutly. “Be +sure and give the Misels no inkling they are suspected. +All of you remember to be as polite as +usual to them if you happen to run across +them.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try, but it will surely go against the +grain,” said Judy, her eyes flashing.</p> + +<p>“Prove your father’s statements, dear little +sister, and we shall let these foreigners know that +we are not the blockheads they call us.”</p> + +<p>“Also we are not the sleepily heads that must +go bedwardly at such earlyly hour,” and little +Otoyo opened her almond eyes very wide to show +that she at least would neither slumber nor sleep +until the enemies to her country and her adopted +country were safely caught up with.</p> + +<p>Molly came in with the grip packed. Some +fudge was tucked in to help out his journey and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +Edwin, with the warm wishes of the kimono +party, started on his patriotic travels.</p> + +<p>“Remember to let Prexy know I am almost +dead with neuralgia and do not let a soul but +Andy on to the fact that I am off on a journey. +I’ll creep in to-morrow night. Keep your eyes +open for deviltries that the Misels may be up to, +but don’t let them know you are not the dummies +they think you. They will not be classed as alien +enemies until war is formally declared, and that +will be day after to-morrow, according to the +latest news.”</p> + +<p>Nance was quietly stitching while most of the +above conversation was going on, but her +thoughts were very busy. The idea that was uppermost +in her mind was that the day United +States was to form an alliance with the nations, +she was to form one equally strong with her +Andy.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI<br /> + +<small>WAR RELIEF</small></h2> + + +<p>Edwin Green occasionally had an attack of +neuralgia that incapacitated him for work for at +least a day, so when Molly solemnly gave out the +news that her poor husband was suffering with +one of his spells of that painful malady, sympathy +was expressed by servants, teachers, and +students. Blinds in the invalid’s room were carefully +closed and the door locked, with the key in +Molly’s pocket. Instructions were sternly given +that nobody must disturb him. When he felt +better he would ask for what he wanted. Little +Mildred was very sad that she was not allowed to +take him his “tup of toffee.”</p> + +<p>“I weckon he’s a-gonter die, sho,” she confided +to Cho-Cho-San. “Only my mother don’t know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +it or she wouldn’t be a-smilin’ an’ laughin’ so +hard.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to work this morning at my war +relief, even if we are to get married to-morrow,” +declared Molly at breakfast. “If I let anything +short of death interfere I get into bad habits, and +the work simply must be done. They are crying +out for more and more dressings.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s all of us go help! We can turn out +oodlums of work if we try,” cried Judy.</p> + +<p>“Not Nance!” insisted Molly. “I know she +has a lot of little stitches to put in before to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“If you will excuse me, I will beg off,” +blushed Nance. “Andy is coming in this morning +for a few moments, besides.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you, you must stay at home to take care +of poor dear Edwin,” laughed Judy. “It +would look terribly heartless for all of us to go +leave him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I forgot Edwin!” declared Molly, just +as Kizzie came in with a stack of waffles. The +girl looked at her mistress in astonishment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +What was coming over her Miss Molly, “fergittin’ +of the boss and then a-larfin’ about it?”</p> + +<p>“Shall I take Andy up to see him?” asked +Nance soberly.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps!”</p> + +<p>“Hadn’t we better take the kids along so their +noise won’t disturb poor dear Brother Edwin?” +suggested Judy, “Mildred and Cho-Cho and +Poilu, the puppy.” Poilu was a diminutive mongrel, +the love of Mildred’s heart.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother, please, please!” begged Mildred.</p> + +<p>“I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee!” sang Cho-Cho +as Molly smiled her consent.</p> + +<p>“They can play in the churchyard and will be +good, I am sure,” she declared.</p> + +<p>And so Nance was left to put in her finishing +stitches, to receive her lover and to take care of +the fictitious case of neuralgia.</p> + +<p>“Hot cloths on his head if he is in very great +agony,” Molly called back as the gay throng +started for the war relief rooms. “There is more +aspirin in the top drawer if he is in much pain.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nance had a busy morning answering the +’phone, which rang many times with inquiries for +the popular professor. Mary Neil sent a box of +candy to Molly as a kind of consolation prize and +Billie McKym sent Edwin a pot of flowers. +Lilian Swift sent a basket of fruit.</p> + +<p>“If their friends rally around them so for an +imaginary disease, what would they do if something +were really the matter?” thought Nance.</p> + +<p>M. Misel and Andy met at the front door, +Misel to inquire for the poor ill man and Andy to +catch a glimpse of his Nance. Misel had walked +slowly and painfully across the campus from his +class room. Nance, from the window, had +watched him approaching and she could but admire +his patience as he made his crippled way.</p> + +<p>“It must be worse to have to pretend to be +lame than to be lame,” she said to herself. “I +wonder if Andy is still fooled.”</p> + +<p>The two men came into the library together, +Andy showing great solicitude for the disabled +foreigner. Misel was so extremely polite and +seemed so distressed at Edwin’s illness that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +Nance could hardly believe that Judy and the +girls could be right in the discovery they had +made the night before. His manner was perfect, +so respectful, so kindly and courteous.</p> + +<p>“I believe I am to wish you joy, Dr. McLean,—and +I do so with all my heart.” Andy grinned +his appreciation. “My wife and I were quite +charmed by Miss Oldham. I hear you are to go +to the front to assist poor stricken France. I +admire the courage of your fiancée to contemplate +going with you.”</p> + +<p>“It would take more for me to stay away,” +whispered Nance softly.</p> + +<p>“Ah, it is the spirit of the women which is what +the Germans have to fight!”</p> + +<p>“Is not the spirit of the German women quite +as courageous as ours?” asked Nance, looking at +Misel keenly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! <cite>Wonderschön!”</cite> his eyes glowed. Suddenly +the fact that he had dropped into German +seemed to embarrass him. “That is—that is the +word for the German women, just as ‘wonderful’ +is the one for the Americans.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Tell me about Edwin,” interrupted Andy, as +though he meant to put Misel at his ease again. +“Is he very ill?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, very!”</p> + +<p>“Can’t I go up to see him?”</p> + +<p>“Molly said he was not to be disturbed. These +headaches just wear themselves out. He will be +all right to-night.”</p> + +<p>“But there is something to be done before it +wears Edwin out as well as itself,” insisted the +young doctor.</p> + +<p>“Molly says not!” Nance shook her head at +Andy as much as to tell him he was talking too +much, and that young man subsided until Misel +had gone. Then Nance revealed to her lover the +whole nefarious plot.</p> + +<p>“I had my doubts about that man from the +first. I could not see how anyone as lame as he +was could have jumped up so briskly. The +beast! How could you be so polite to him?”</p> + +<p>“Camouflage! Fighting the devil with fire!”</p> + +<p>“I am glad old Ed took matters in hand so +promptly. I tell you these college professors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +show up pretty well in these times! Wilson and +Green forever!”</p> + +<p>In the meantime the industrious war relief +workers were hard at it. The be-aproned and +be-kerchiefed ladies of Wellington held their +séances in the basement of the little church. It +was astonishing how large was their output, but +busy fingers had been steadily at work ever since +word had come from France that wounded men +were dying for lack of surgical dressings, and +that word had come very soon after the breaking +out of the World War.</p> + +<p>Women with earnest faces were bending over +the long tables, some rolling bandages; some tearing +cotton cloth; some pulling threads for careful +cutting of gauze, later to be deftly folded in the +prescribed shape. In one corner, cotton batting +was being fluffed up for the making of fracture +pillows. Huge baskets were being emptied by +one group as they stuffed the pillows, while +others were being filled by the fluffers, as Judy +called the women whose duty it was to pick the +cotton. Much sneezing went on in this corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +and he who wonders why, might try once fluffing +unrefined cotton.</p> + +<p>“Let me make the tampons!” begged Jessie.</p> + +<p>“I know why! Because they look like powder +puffs,” teased Edith.</p> + +<p>The house party was received with enthusiasm +by the Wellington workers. There always seems +to be more work than can be accomplished and +then workers come and by hook or crook the task +is completed. All of our girls had done some +war relief work, so it was easy to set them to their +stints. Pretty Jessie could make tampons that +were so soft and so regular that they really did +look like powder puffs. Katherine could pick +cotton as fast as Mother Carey can chickens and +her advent caused an increase of sneezing. Edith +stuffed fracture pillows just to show that she +could go faster than her sister. Margaret rolled +bandages with a precision equal to her parliamentary +ruling when she was presiding officer. +Otoyo and Judy and Molly folded the gauze into +the neat little six-inch squares. This is the most +difficult part of the work, requiring such accuracy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +that only the expert should choose that table. +The edges must come just together, no threads +must be left on the gauze, the corners must be +turned under exactly enough and the finished articles +stacked in even piles.</p> + +<p>Madame Misel came in with the work she had +taken home to finish. Never were such neat, +wonderful dressings as hers. In the short time +she had been at Wellington she had accomplished +the work of two women, bringing in great stacks +of the accurately-made dressings.</p> + +<p>It was difficult for the girls to treat her with +the courtesy they knew it was policy to employ. +Behind that calm mask they could now detect the +lying spy. Her expression was as demure as +ever and she spoke with the same hesitation that +they felt was assumed, just as her husband’s halting +gait was. Why they should have taken up +that particular disguise, Molly and her friends +were at a loss to know.</p> + +<p>Madame Misel was almost a beautiful woman. +Animation would have made her quite beautiful, +animation and better dressing. Her hair was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +parted in the middle and brushed as slick as glass, +coiled in a tight knob at exactly the wrong angle. +She habitually wore an old-fashioned basque of a +bygone cut buttoned up close to the neck with a +narrow band of white collar, which but accentuated +the severity of her garb. Her shoes were +broad and ugly with no heels, her skirt skimpy +and badly hung.</p> + +<p>Judy studied the countenance of the foreigner +as she bent over her work. The nimble fingers +moved very rapidly as she folded the gauze.</p> + +<p>“Gee, I’d like to sketch her!” Judy whispered +to Molly. “A mixture of Mona Lisa and +the Unknown Woman and plain repressed +devil!”</p> + +<p>She whipped out her sketch book, which was +never far from her, and with a few strokes had +Madame Misel’s pose, then with a skill that was +quite wonderful had suggested her features. The +model moved uneasily as though conscious of +scrutiny, but before she looked up Judy had +closed her book and was demurely folding gauze. +Madame arose and walked away, standing by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +table where Margaret was rolling bandages. +Judy again whipped out her book and made a +rapid impression of the unstylish figure in its flat +shoes and tight basque.</p> + +<p>Just then little Mildred and Cho-Cho came +screaming from the churchyard where they had +been playing happily. Mildred had in her arms +the poor little much-petted puppy. Blood was +streaming from the creature’s leg and he was giving +forth pathetic wails.</p> + +<p>“A big dog done bitted him all up!” cried +Mildred.</p> + +<p>“Greatly dog ’ave ’urt little puppee!” said +Cho-Cho-San.</p> + +<p>“First aid to the injured!” exclaimed Judy, +as she took the bleeding canine in her arms. The +pile of beautifully made dressings Madame Misel +had just brought in was on the corner of the long +table. Without a by-your-leave, Judy snatched +up one from the top and bound it around the poor +gory leg. “There, you poor little precious! +You may be part French poodle, anyhow, and +surely a wound is a wound.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Madame Misel put out a hand as though to +stay her, but before she could say anything Judy +had the dressing wrapped around the puppy’s +little leg.</p> + +<p>“Too bad to take one so perfectly made, but I +just grabbed the one closest to hand. Now, Mildred, +you and Cho-Cho can be Red Cross nurses +and little Poilu can be your wounded warrior. +Take him out and nurse him carefully. It isn’t +much of a place and no doubt with good care he +will be all well by to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“I—think—it—would be—advisable to—apply—iodine +to the wound—is it—not so, Madame +Brown? I shall be pleased to—go to—my—house—and—procure +some,” faltered Madame +Misel.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think it is really necessary,” insisted +Molly. “We shall be going home presently and +I can put some on then. You are very kind.” +Enemy alien or not, Madame Misel was certainly +very thoughtful to want to take the trouble for +the pet. Molly, ever ready to see the good in +persons, had a feeling that this quiet, pleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +woman could not be shamming. Perhaps Misel +was not what he should be, but not this wife, who +was so untiring in her labors of mercy.</p> + +<p>When they started home, the roly-poly Poilu +seemed to have recovered entirely. He did not +even limp, so he was spared the ordeal of having +the stinging iodine poured on the wounded leg. +It was nothing more than a scratch anyhow, Judy +declared.</p> + +<p>At midnight Edwin returned, letting himself +quietly in the front door. Molly was waiting for +him, eaten up with curiosity about what had +transpired. He had been closeted with the Secret +Service officials, who considered the matter +of the gravest importance. Two of the cleverest +and most cautious of the detective force were put +on the job.</p> + +<p>“They were no doubt on the train with me,” +he said, “but I have no idea what they look like +or what disguise they themselves will employ. At +least a dozen persons got off the train at Wellington +Station and all of them or none of them may +have been Sherlock Holmeses.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I hope your neuralgia is better,” laughed +Molly.</p> + +<p>“Well, the joke of it is, I really did have neuralgia +all day, not severe enough to keep me from +enjoying a very good luncheon with your brother +Kent and Jimmie Lufton at the Press Club, but +quite bad enough to keep you from having told +a lie.”</p> + +<p>“Poor dear! I am so sorry for you to have +suffered at all, but it is certainly considerate of +you to be instrumental in saving my soul. And +now, since to-morrow is the wedding day, we had +better get all the sleep we can.”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII<br /> + +<small>TILL DEATH DOTH US PART</small></h2> + + +<p>The small home wedding that Nance and +Molly had originally planned grew to be quite +large. Little by little it seemed impossible to get +married without first one person and then the +other. Andy had many friends at Exmoor and +Wellington; Dr. and Mrs. McLean knew half +the country and had a long list to be invited; +Nance wanted the whole faculty and some of the +girls who were favorites of Molly’s; Kent Brown +arrived from New York bringing with him Mr. +Matsuki, frankly delighted to be included in so +honorable an assemblage.</p> + +<p>“Surely they can’t all of them sleep here,” said +Edwin to his wife as he put on his wedding garments.</p> + +<p>“They can, but they won’t,” she answered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +laughing at his woeful expression. “The house +party breaks up after the ceremony. Do I look +all right?”</p> + +<p>“Beautiful!”</p> + +<p>“I mean my dress!”</p> + +<p>“But I mean you! I don’t know anything +about your dress except that it is blue as it should +be.”</p> + +<p>“Can you find your collar buttons and is your +tie all right?” asked the anxious housewife as she +accepted with very good grace the embrace Edwin +felt was necessary to his happiness just then.</p> + +<p>“Yes! Everything O. K.! I am sorry for +the bride because you are so lovely, honey. +Nance is a pretty girl but I am afraid nobody will +see her because of the matron of honor.”</p> + +<p>“Such a goose! Now I must go look after the +flower girls. Katy has them coralled in the +nursery where they can’t get dirty. They are +the sweetest looking creatures you ever saw in +your life. Dodo looks like a beautiful cabbage +rose himself, his cheeks are so rosy. I wish +Mother could see him.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Why doesn’t she come on to the wedding?”</p> + +<p>“Sue needs her in Kentucky. The only trouble +about Mother is that there is only one of her. +I need her more than anything right now. If she +were here she would take hold of this wedding +breakfast and I would know it would come off +right,” sighed Molly, who, true to her character, +had planned to do enough for two persons. +“Thank goodness, Judy is here!”</p> + +<p>The ceremony was to be at twelve and then a +wedding breakfast served. This meant Molly +was to be very busy. The girls were helping, but +at the same time they were more or less flustered +trying to get themselves dressed all in one room. +They had determined to make this a gay light +wedding as to clothes at least. There was a feeling +of excitement in every breast, excitement +mingled with sadness. Was not this the most momentous +day in the life of every true American? +War was declared! Perhaps had they realized +just what war meant, those girls could not have +donned those gay, bright garments. Would they +have had the courage to wish their friend God-speed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +so cheerily? I believe they would. They +were of the stuff of the mothers of men. On that +second of April, 1917, every woman in the United +States must have felt somewhat as Molly Brown’s +college friends felt. It was a feeling of excitement, +awe, exhilaration and dread combined.</p> + +<p>Nance was gowned in white with a wonderful +lace veil Otoyo had brought as her present. It +was as filmy as the clouds that rest on Fujiyama, +the sacred mountain of Otoyo’s country.</p> + +<p>“Only suppose she had brought a tea basket +like mine! What would that have looked like on +your head?” giggled Judy, who was in a +strangely hysterical state. She was one girl who +very well knew what the war was to mean. Had +she not been on the outskirts of war in 1914 when +she was stranded in Paris? Had she not seen the +soldiers marching off bidding farewell to their +nearest and dearest,—sometimes a final farewell? +Kent had spent all the time he could in training +camps since they had been opened to citizens of +the United States, and now he was confident of +receiving a commission. Perhaps it would mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +that her husband would be in the trenches in a +short time. She wanted him to want to go, was +proud of him for wanting to,—but oh, the agony +of it all!</p> + +<p>Almost time for the ceremony now! Molly +made her final tour of inspection. Edwin, Kent +and Mr. Matsuki were safe in the den where they +eagerly discussed politics. Dr. and Mrs. McLean +arrived, holding Andy between them as +though they might lose him before it was time.</p> + +<p>“I meant to help you, Molly, child, but my +hea-r-r-t is so joompy I am afraid it will be best +for me to compose meself,” said the poor mother. +“Don’t let Andy know!”</p> + +<p>Molly kissed the dear lady and asked Katherine +to stay near her. Katherine’s dressing was +always a simple matter, as her gowns consisted of +shirt-waists and skirts in various materials to +suit various occasions. She declared she could +dress in the dark and look just as well as +though she had had cheval glasses and a blaze of +light.</p> + +<p>The other girls were ready and came down to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +the parlors to help receive the guests. Nance +was lovely and looked as fresh and sweet as a +white violet as she sat in her room sedately +awaiting the hour. A visit to the nursery disclosed +the children piously standing with backs +to the window and arms held well away from +their fluffy skirts, as charming flower girls as one +could find.</p> + +<p>“I’m so ’appee! I’m so ’appee! I’m Mildred’s +Japanese dollee! She’s my kick-up dollee!” +sang the little Cho-Cho-San. “All I +want is bald spot, and all she wants is stick up +hair!”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t we your little comforts, Muvver?” +asked Mildred.</p> + +<p>“Indeed you are, my darling! Now when +Judy calls, you come running so you can go +down the stairs in front of Aunt Nance. Judy +will have your wreaths all ready. Where is +Katy?”</p> + +<p>“She’s peeking at the comply.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you kiddies be good and don’t get +your dresses mussed. It is almost time now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +Don’t wake Dodo.” Of course Dodo had gone +to sleep, since there was nothing more important +on hand just then. Molly hurried off to the +kitchen to see that the wedding breakfast was +coming on as she had planned. Mrs. Murphy +had hobbled up to help Kizzie, and Mrs. McLean +had sent over her two maids.</p> + +<p>“All they need is a boss,” sighed poor Molly. +“If I only could be two places at one time!”</p> + +<p>But whose familiar figure was that seen +through the scullery door? The maids were all +in a broad grin and Kizzie, as she expressed it, +“was fittin’ to bust.”</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! Where on earth did you +come from?” and Molly had that dear lady +clasped in her arms. “What are you doing in +the back? Come on and hurry and get dressed! +It is almost time!” Molly felt like little Cho-Cho +when she cried out: “I’m so ’appee! I’m so +’appee!”</p> + +<p>“I just this minute arrived and have no idea +of dressing!” cried that dear lady when she could +speak.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Of course you needn’t dress! You are lovely +as you are—your hair is a bit mussed—and——”</p> + +<p>“You mussed it but it will do very well for the +part I am to play. I have no idea of appearing. +I mean to serve this breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“But, Mother, I couldn’t let you!”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! That is what I hurried on for. +Why, child, when I realized that you were having +a house party and a wedding and going to serve a +great breakfast, I simply jumped on the train +with a hand-bag and flew to you. You always +have behaved as though you were triplets. Now +run along and don’t tell a soul I am here. I can +be honored later on; now I want a big apron and +room to operate. Kizzie has already told me +what the breakfast is to be and you need not +think about it. Run along!”</p> + +<p>“Well, one more hug and I am gone. Aren’t +you even going to peek at the comply, as Mildred +says?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ll see the ceremony, never fear; but fly, +Molly! The guests are coming.”</p> + +<p>Molly felt as though she really could fly. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +mother’s arrival had relieved her of all fear about +the wedding breakfast. It would be obliged to +go off without a hitch now. Dear, dear Mother! +How like her to come quietly slipping in the back +way just in the nick of time!</p> + +<p>One could have heard a pin drop in the old +square house on the campus as the first strains of +the wedding march arose and the rustle of skirts +on the stairway announced the approach of the +wedding procession. Andy was shaking and +shivering in the hall, tightly clutching his father’s +arm. He had declared that Dr. McLean must +be his best man and would hear of no other. Of +course he was just as scared as the groom always +is, at least, all proper grooms.</p> + +<p>At Judy’s signal the little flower girls came +dancing from the nursery, their fluffy skirts flying. +The wreaths and garlands were handed +them and they marched down the stairs feeling +much more important than Nance herself.</p> + +<p>“Heavens!” thought Molly as she followed +them with Nance, “what on earth is the matter +with Mildred’s hair?” It was standing up in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +most peculiar way. Instead of the curls that +Katy had so carefully made, her ringlets had +been brushed out and Molly realized that at least +four inches of her daughter’s hair had been cut +off. “And Cho-Cho-San! What has happened +to her?” In the middle of the child’s head was a +bare spot at least three inches in diameter. It +looked as though it had been shaved.</p> + +<p>Whatever the matter was, it affected the +flower girls not in the least. With many tosses +of those shorn heads they marched into the parlor, +scattering their posies as they had been told. +When Otoyo saw the bald spot on the head of her +offspring she almost fainted and had to hold on +to the ready arm of honorable husband. Cho-Cho-San +had clipped Mildred’s hair to make it +stand up like a kick-up dolly, and Mildred had +stolen her father’s safety razor and converted her +little friend into a veritable Japanese dolly.</p> + +<p>Nothing but the solemnity of the occasion kept +Molly from hysterics. The little wretches must +have got busy after she made her visit to the +nursery. Evidently they were doing what Mildred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +called “playing true.” Cho-Cho was a +Japanese dolly and Mildred was a kick-up. The +little visitor did look exactly like one of those fascinating +Japanese dolls, and Molly could but +smile in spite of her distress. She was afraid to +catch Judy’s eye as she stepped back to let Andy +take his place by Nance’s side.</p> + +<p>Never had the wedding ceremony seemed so +impressive as on that second of April. Every +mind was filled with the importance of the step +that the country was taking, and with the prayer +that Andy and Nance would prosper, was +breathed the thought that the United States +might come out victorious.</p> + +<p>Nance was to go with Andy’s unit in the capacity +of interpreter. She was not a brilliant +French scholar but was thorough in her knowledge +of that as of everything she had undertaken. +She frankly declared that she had been separated +from Andy long enough and she intended to follow +him to the ends of the earth if need be. It +was that wonderful fact that made Andy’s “I +will!” so strong and clear. His tremblings left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +him and he stood by his dear girl like the soldier +of the Red Cross that he was. Nothing was impossible +or too hard if Nance was to be with him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. McLean’s good, honest face was like an +angel’s as she gazed on her new daughter-in-law. +No jealousy was depicted there—nothing but +adoration, gratitude that the girl was to make her +Andy happy. Poor Dr. McLean was sobbing +like a baby and his good wife had to put her arms +around him to comfort him.</p> + +<p>All over! “Whom God hath joined together +let no man put asunder.” Andy clasped his +Nance with the look of: “I dare anyone to try!”</p> + +<p>Otoyo and Molly held a whispered consultation +over their imaginative offspring and decided +that nothing was to be said or done to the +culprits on that day of days,—the reckoning +must be deferred.</p> + +<p>Those infants were greatly astonished, somewhat +relieved and secretly chagrined that their +prank was not noticed. They had expected to be +even more important than the bride in their rôles +of Japanese and kick-up dolls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I weckon nobody don’t love us ’nough to +spank us even,” pouted Mildred.</p> + +<p>“Japanese babee gets not spank-ed—but honorable +mother frowns on Cho-Cho when she +loves her most after naughtiness—but now—but +now—she smiles, but not with love,” was the wail +of the companion in crime and misery.</p> + +<p>The efficient helmsman in the kitchen steered +the wedding breakfast to safety. The affair +went off with such expedition that the housekeepers +present marveled at Molly’s cleverness.</p> + +<p>“She must have trained her servants wonderfully +well,” whispered one.</p> + +<p>“I remember the joke they got off on Molly +in college,” laughed Miss Walker. “It was that +she came of a family of famous cooks.”</p> + +<p>“It is not only the cooking now,” said Mrs. +Fern, Edwin’s cousin and the mother of the perfect +Alice. “It is the way it is served and the +orderliness of the waitresses. I wonder that +Molly can be with her guests while it is being +done unless she has had a caterer come up from +New York. I simply have to be in the pantry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +myself when my daughters entertain on a large +scale. That is, unless I can hire someone to come +take charge, and Wellington does not boast such +a person. Alice is very particular but not willing +to do much herself,—not able, in fact,” she added +lamely, a little afraid of having criticized her perfect +daughter in public.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fern was very fond of Molly and admired +her greatly in spite of the fact that she +could not help bearing her a tiny secret grudge +for marrying Edwin Green. That good lady +had in her heart of hearts hoped that Alice was +to bear off the professional prize. Perfect persons +are not always very pleasant to live with and +Alice Fern was no exception to the rule. Mrs. +Fern wished no harm to Edwin but she would +have been glad to shift her burden of perfectness +to other shoulders.</p> + +<p>“We are just asking ourselves how you do it, +my dear,” she said as Molly came up to see that +all was going well with her guests.</p> + +<p>“Do it! I’ll tell you a secret that I was not +to divulge but I am simply bursting with it:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +Mother is in the pantry! She came in the back +way, without my even knowing she had left Kentucky, +and now she is directing operations. She +refuses to appear until the party is over.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that is the reason for that glow in your +eyes!” exclaimed Miss Walker. “I used to say +when you were a college girl that I could tell by +your expression when the western mail had +brought you a letter from Kentucky.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know it showed so,” blushed Molly, +“but it does make me feel warm all over when I +know my mother is near.”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII<br /> + +<small>THE PUNISHMENT OF MILDRED</small></h2> + + +<p>The last rice thrown and the bridal party +gone! Molly and Judy all that was left of the +gay girls! The old crowd once more dispersed! +I wonder if they will ever come together again. +It had been a perfect time, and Molly, although +dead tired, was very happy that she had been +able to gather them in under her roof. All that +worried her now was the fact that Mildred was +to be punished. How, she was not certain.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brown, no longer in her apron but now +the most honored of all, was ensconced on the +sofa with Dodo in her arms and Mildred snuggled +up close to her side. The child’s eyes were +big and sad. Her little cropped head was drooping +and her mouth trembling. Even Granny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +was not noticing her naughtiness. Evidently nobody +loved her!</p> + +<p>Kent was seated on the floor, his head against +his mother’s knee, where, without exerting himself, +he could see Judy’s animated face and +bright fluffy hair. Perhaps the time was soon +coming when he would have to be far away from +these beloved women. He was sure of his commission +now and was ready for his country’s call, +but oh, it was hard to be uprooted from the pleasant +spot where love had planted him! Ah, well! +The war could not last forever and maybe there +was a good time coming for all of them. It was +hard to leave Judy, but it would be harder to take +her with him if duty sent him to France. He did +not criticize Andy McLean in the least. He +knew his own business and Nance wanted to go +with him but he, Kent Brown, had no idea of +exposing his Judy to any more horrors of war. +The taste both of them had had of it was enough.</p> + +<p>The little group around the fire was very quiet. +Dormouse Dodo went off into his usual soporific +state. Judy was knitting rapidly, and the click<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +of her needles was all that broke the stillness. +Judy always declared she did not mind knitting +if she could just make her needles click. Molly +was too tired to knit, too tired to do anything. If +only she had settled matters with her first born! +Her conscience told her it must be done and done +soon. If only something would happen to keep +her from having to do it, whatever it was to be. +She actually prayed for strength to take the matter +up and also that she would not have to take +it up.</p> + +<p>Suddenly on the twilight calm of the library +there arose a broken-hearted wail! Mildred had +broken out into an abandon of grief. Her wails +rent the air.</p> + +<p>“Gee whilikins! I thought the Germans had +come,” exclaimed Kent, jumping to his feet.</p> + +<p>“My darling, what is it?” asked Mrs. Brown +as Mildred clutched her around the neck.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Granny, Granny! My muvver hates +me!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly! What have you done to this +angel?” asked the grandmother almost sternly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Nothing! I declare!”</p> + +<p>“That’s jes’ it! She ain’t done nuffin! That +shows she hates me. Kizzie done say, ‘Who de +Lord loveneth he chases,’ an’ I done did the wussest +thing I could do an’ my muvver she ain’t so +much as said: ‘Why, Mildred!’ I wants to git +spanked! I wants to git spanked!”</p> + +<p>“Why, darling, what have you done?” asked +Mrs. Brown, trying to control her risibles.</p> + +<p>“I done shave-pated, number-eighted my little +Haythen friend. Kizzie called Cho-Cho:</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘Shave pate, number eight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hit yo’ haid aginst the gate.’<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>“It sho did hurt Cho-Cho’s feelings. And Cho-Cho, +she slish-slashed my hair off so’s I’d look +cute. Nobody ain’t told us we look cute—and +nobody ain’t spanked us nor nothin’—and nobody +don’t love us.” This tirade came out between +sobs.</p> + +<p>Kent and Judy roared with laughter but +Molly and her mother tried to look sad and +mournful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Molly, I’m astonished! Why don’t you +spank your kid? I never heard of such an inhuman +parent,” teased Kent.</p> + +<p>Molly was very happy indeed. The miracle +had come! Her prayer was answered. She did +not have to punish Mildred. Mildred was punished.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t have treated yo’ dear little +children so mean, would you, Granny?”</p> + +<p>“You bet she wouldn’t have,” insisted Kent. +“Why, if I had shave-pated, number-eighted +my little Haythen friends, your granny would +have torn me limb from limb and beaten me black +and blue.”</p> + +<p>“Sho nuf?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed, and if my little Haythen friend +had chopped off all my pretty curls, I am sure +her mother would have thrown her in the fire and +poked holes in her with a red hot poker.”</p> + +<p>“Jes’ ’cause they loved you so much?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, just because they loved us so much.”</p> + +<p>“Me’n’ Cho-Cho wisht we could git throwed in +the fire,” sighed the repentant Mildred. “But,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +Uncle Kent,” and she got up and put her little +mouth close to his ear, “don’t you think I made +a mighty cunning little Japanese dolly out’n my +Haythen friend?”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIX<br /> + +<small>A DEATH</small></h2> + + +<p>“Aunt Judy, my Poilu is tellible sick! He +can’t open up his mouf mo’n ’bout a minute far. +Won’t you please, ma’m, punch it open wif the +button hook so’s I kin poke some breafkast down +him?”</p> + +<p>Mildred had the little puppy clasped in her +arms and he did seem to be very miserable. His +eyes were partly closed and his teeth were tightly +clamped together.</p> + +<p>“I weckon that big ol’ dog what eated a piece +out’n him done made him so sick.”</p> + +<p>“But, honey, that was a week ago, and if it +had been going to make him sick it would surely +have affected him long ago. It was nothing but +a scratch, and don’t you remember Aunt Judy +bound it up so tight it only bled a moment?”</p> + +<p>Judy and Kent had remained at Wellington<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +for a visit. Kent was so soon to join his regiment +that he felt he could not tear himself away from +his mother and sister, so they had lingered on +after the other guests had departed. The bride +and groom had also returned after a flying visit +to Nance’s old home and were now with the McLeans, +Nance declaring that Andy’s mother +must have all she could of her son before he was +to sail for France.</p> + +<p>Judy took the puppy in her lap and smoothed +his silky sides. The little fellow opened his eyes +and gave her a grateful glance. Mildred did +squeeze a little too tight when a fellow felt as sick +as poor little Poilu did.</p> + +<p>“Maybe we had better get the doctor for him,” +suggested Judy. “There come Andy and Aunt +Nance now, across the campus! Call them, Mildred! +Andy is not too proud to doctor a dog.”</p> + +<p>Mildred delightedly ran to the door and waved +her arms frantically. “Hi there, brideangroom! +brideangroom! Somebody’s mighty sick in this +here house. Better hurry up or they might go +deaded!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy and Nance quickened their pace and +hastened into the house.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” they cried anxiously.</p> + +<p>“It’s my littlest brudder!”</p> + +<p>“Dodo! What is the matter with my little +husband?” asked Nance anxiously.</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t Dodo! He ain’t my littlest brudder. +I’se got anudder brudder. Ain’t you knowed +about him?”</p> + +<p>Nance and Andy were much mystified, but +they followed the amusing little creature into the +library. Nance thought perhaps the big-hearted +Molly had adopted a French orphan,—Molly +was quite capable of doing it.</p> + +<p>“There’s my brudder!” and Mildred pointed +to the suffering puppy. “Ain’t it too bad he’s +got a tail?”</p> + +<p>Andy laughed as he lifted the poor little Poilu +to his own knees.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with him, Andy?” was +Judy’s anxious query.</p> + +<p>“It looks like the last stages of tetanus.” The +patient was even then in a violent convulsion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +Andy mercifully laid his handkerchief over the +little fellow’s head, dreading that Mildred should +see his suffering.</p> + +<p>“I’d put him out of his misery but he will be +gone in a moment anyhow,” he said sadly. “Has +he been hurt?”</p> + +<p>“A week ago he got bitten by a dog, but it +was a mere scratch and did not amount to a row +of pins, so Molly and I decided.”</p> + +<p>“Did you put anything on the wound?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but a surgical dressing down at the +war relief rooms. I remember it was one of the +beautifully made dressings Madame Misel had +just brought in——”</p> + +<p>Andy sprang up, a wild light in his eye. The +puppy had breathed its last so he handed it over +to Judy without more ado.</p> + +<p>“Where is Molly?”</p> + +<p>“She has gone down in the village to pack +supplies at the war relief rooms. There were lots +of things to get off, so she went quite early. I +am to follow a little later, just as soon as Kent +finishes primping. What is the matter?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>“There may be much the matter. You and +Kent come as fast as you can,” and Andy and +Nance hurried off without any more explanation.</p> + +<p>The news was broken to Mildred that her pet +was no more and her bruised heart was much +comforted with promises of a funeral later on +when Kizzie got time to make arrangements. +Kent and Judy caught up with Andy and Nance +before they reached the old church where the war +work was carried on.</p> + +<p>“What under Heaven is the matter?” panted +Judy.</p> + +<p>“It may be nothing, but I must investigate. +Let’s go in as quietly as possible. Does Madame +Misel still work on the surgical dressings?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed! And such beautiful work as +she does! Molly insists that she must have a +great deal of good in her to give so much time to +this work. Sometimes I think I must have +dreamed that they spoke as they did that night +in the garden. Why should pro-Germans and +spies choose this particular spot, anyhow?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>The workroom was filled with very busy ladies +when our young couples entered. Molly was tying +up dressings, after carefully inspecting and +counting them. An order had come for many +bandages and other dressings and all hands were +at work trying to get them off. Madame Misel +was deftly arranging the rolled bandages in +pyramids and then tying them with strings made +of the selvedge torn from the cotton. Nothing +goes to waste in this war work. Madame’s +countenance was as calm as ever as she bent over +her work, but when she saw the two men enter, +Judy noticed a sudden alertness in her glance +and a tiny spot of red on her usually white cheek. +As she pulled the selvedge string, she must have +given it an unusual tug for it broke and the +tightly-rolled bandages flew hither and yon over +the floor.</p> + +<p>“Humph! There is no telling how many +germs got picked up in that scatteration,” muttered +Andy as he stooped and gathered the bandages.</p> + +<p>“The—bandage—does—not—touch the—wound,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +said Madame, evidently forgetting +she was speaking to a surgeon.</p> + +<p>“No?” said Andy shortly.</p> + +<p>“Molly,” he said, “I must speak with you a +moment.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Andy dear, I am awfully busy. You +come home to luncheon with me, you and Nance, +and then you can speak all you’ve a mind +to.”</p> + +<p>“I must speak now,” whispered Andy +sternly.</p> + +<p>“Heavens! Is anything the matter?” asked +Molly.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure,” and Andy drew her towards +the vestry at the back of the church. “Tell me, +Molly, have you packed all the dressings that +that Misel woman has made?”</p> + +<p>“Why, no, not all of them! Why?”</p> + +<p>“Have you mixed them with the others?”</p> + +<p>“No! They are so beautifully folded that I +do not have to inspect them, and so I have put +them in boxes to themselves. She is the best +worker I ever saw.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Molly, I shall have to ask you not to get this +shipment off to-day.”</p> + +<p>“But, Andy, it is most important! The poor +wounded are bleeding to death and the ship sails +in two days. We must get them off this evening +if they are to catch that boat. What is your reason?”</p> + +<p>And then Andy told her of the puppy’s death. +He said the fact that his first aid had come from +those very rooms, and that tetanus, or lock-jaw, +had set in on a perfectly healthy puppy when he +had a mere scratch from another dog, made him +suspicious that tetanus germs were on some of +the bandages.</p> + +<p>“Why, Andy, that is ridiculous! Poor Madame +Misel may be in sympathy with Germany +in spite of all she says, she and her husband, but +she could not do such a vile thing as that.” +Molly could not help feeling impatient and indignant +with her old friend. “Only look at her +sweet face and all thought of such infamy will +leave your mind.”</p> + +<p>Andy did glance towards Madame Misel and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +the look of venomous hatred that he surprised +on her face was shocking. The young physician +laughed grimly. “Molly, you are no judge of +persons unless they happen to be angels. You +think wings are getting ready to sprout even +from our enemies.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps they are! Who knows?”</p> + +<p>“You may be right, but in the meantime, +please don’t let any of these dressings get off. I +must see those Secret Service men. Where are +they?”</p> + +<p>“Edwin knows, I believe, but he has not told +me.”</p> + +<p>Molly was irritated beyond endurance. How +was she to let these women know that the shipment +must be held up? It was all of it so absurd. +The women had done the work and now these +men must come poking their fingers into the pie +that they had had none of the work of making. +The idea of accusing Madame Misel of such a +crime! Judy, too, seemed to be doubting the +stranger, and Nance, of course, would be aiding +and abetting Andy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I shall have to ask you to be very quiet, not +to give this creature an inkling of our suspicions,” +commanded Andy sternly. “That is +very important.”</p> + +<p>“Well, naturally, I’ll hardly be so rude as to +let her think anyone is so unkind as to doubt +her,” and Molly’s lip trembled.</p> + +<p>“Molly, dear Molly, don’t hate me so. I can’t +help seeing that something is wrong and if I have +the slightest suspicion, I must surely probe to the +bottom. You must see that.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I do, Andy, but I just can’t bear +to have anybody abused, especially a woman who +makes such lovely dressings,” and Molly tried to +smile at her friend.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll depend upon you to stop the work +of getting them off and still not let the woman +know she is under suspicion. Just go on packing +but do not make the shipment.”</p> + +<p>“I hate to resort to such subterfuge, but I’ll +do my best,” sighed Molly.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t it be better to bring one criminal +to justice than to kill thousands of poor wounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +men by dressing their wounds with tetanus +germs?”</p> + +<p>“Of course, only—but—you see——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I see that your heart is so tender and +you are so honest yourself you think all the world +must be like you.”</p> + +<p>Molly went sadly back to her packing, all the +joy and zest gone out of her work. How could +nice men like Andy and Kent think such things +about a poor defenseless woman? No doubt she +did have a sneaking sympathy for Germany. +Was not that natural? Had she and her countrymen +not been under German rule long enough +to consider the kaiser as their rightful ruler? Because +her husband chose to pretend to be lame +was no reason why everybody should think Madame +Misel capable of such a dastardly thing as +putting tetanus germs on the bandages of poor +wounded soldiers. That was something no +woman, no matter how bad, could do,—and +surely this woman was not bad, not really bad. +Molly Brown was so constituted that one had to +be proven to be bad before she could believe evil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +of him or her, and then, as a rule, she would find +some excuse for the sinner if not for the sin.</p> + +<p>Nance and Judy stayed on to help in the work, +while Andy and Kent went to find the Secret +Service agents. While the task of making bandages, +etc., went rapidly forward, the detectives +quietly ransacked the cottage occupied by the +Misels. This was the first opportunity they had +had of going over the house. The occupants had +never before left it alone. Much of dire importance +was discovered. Among other things a +small laboratory where no doubt all kinds of evil +germs were incubated. The search was made +very rapidly, as they were anxious to leave things +in such order that the owners would not suspect +that they were under surveillance.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XX<br /> + +<small>GERMS</small></h2> + + +<p>As the two quietly-dressed, intelligent looking +men were in the act of going through a desk, they +saw from the window the slow and painful approach +of M. Misel. Without a word they let +themselves out of a back window, left open for +emergencies, and before the master had opened +the front door the detectives were over the back +fence and out of sight. They were desirous of +catching more than the Misels in their net and +did not want to act too quickly.</p> + +<p>Had they peeped through the window, they +would have seen Misel with an impatient gesture +sling his crutch in one direction, his cane in another.</p> + +<p>“Lena!” he called, in anything but a gentle +tone. “Lena!” And then with muttered +curses, when he found his wife to be absent, he +settled himself to look over the bunch of mail he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +had just obtained at the post-office. One letter +he examined very critically before opening. It +was an inoffensive enough looking envelope, addressed +on a typewriter and with a postmark from +New York. It had the appearance of a circular +or advertisement of some sort, being made of +cheap, greyish-white paper, the kind of letter one +would wait until last to open in a pile of mail, being +sure it was of no especial interest or importance. +Misel seemed to find it very interesting, +however. It was the one he chose from all the +letters and papers, and as he examined it, he +scowled darkly.</p> + +<p>“Lena!” he called as Madame Misel hurriedly +entered the cottage, “Lena, some fool has +been meddling with my mail!”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not such a big fool as you are!” she +answered tartly.</p> + +<p>“Look! The envelope has been opened before. +Of course it is the letter from Fritz von +Lestes, the one we have been awaiting.” He tore +it open and read aloud: “‘The paint which you +have ordered will be delivered immediately. Am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +sorry there should have been any delay. I am +sending a light grey, as agreed upon.’ Umm—I +don’t see how they could make much out of +that.”</p> + +<p>“Let me see the letter.—Of course they can +make much out of it as there is no address,—you +men bungle things so! Why should a man who +is in the paint business write a letter with no address +and sign his name so illegibly that no one +could make it out? He should have had a letter +head and a business envelope.”</p> + +<p>“And speaking of bungling,—why did you go +and leave the house with no one in it? Can’t you +see that is imprudent?”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Green came for me and I had no excuse.—Besides, +I am sure if I am by when the +dressings are handed in that no one will inspect +my work. I have been packing all morning and +have seen to it that my labor has not been in +vain.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, peerless woman!” he said sarcastically.</p> + +<p>Madame Misel said nothing but busied herself +over the luncheon. Suddenly she gave a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +cry, half distress, half indignation. Misel hastened +to her.</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Look! This back window is not quite closed! +Did you open it?”</p> + +<p>“No! I have not been here in the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>“Then someone has been in the house,” she +announced in a dead tone.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure?”</p> + +<p>“Of course! I left the windows locked, stupid! +Look about and see if all is in order.”</p> + +<p>The detectives had worked as neatly as detectives +can work, but the Misels found several +traces of them. In one room a chair had been +moved; in another a drawer had not been shut as +close as Madame was confident she had left it; +papers had been turned over in the desk, Misel +was sure, although none were missing.</p> + +<p>“Someone has been in the laboratory, too! +Look at this crucible! I always place them so,—and +this has been turned.”</p> + +<p>The pair faced each other with despair on their +countenances.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What now?” they gasped.</p> + +<p>“We must make a flitting this very night!” +exclaimed the woman. “Thank goodness, nobody +dreams that you are not crippled nor that +I am anything but the homely hausfrau I appear. +The dressings will be off this very afternoon, too, +so my work is completed in that line, at least. If +you could boast as much, no doubt you would not +mind leaving. I told you to begin the teaching +at Exmoor sooner.”</p> + +<p>“The youths were not ripe for it. I have begun +in a way, but not much has been accomplished. +Perhaps the person who has been here +is just some prying neighbor and we are not +really being watched. Go out and see if you can +discover anything!”</p> + +<p>When Madame Misel peeped through the windows +of the old church she saw enough to make +her turn pale. Andy McLean was there with +two strange men and Professor and Mrs. Green. +Molly was weeping bitter tears as she untied the +carefully packed surgical dressings. Madame +saw at a glance that it was her work that was being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +examined by the men. She did not stop to +make sure what they found on her beautifully +made dressings, but turned and fled towards the +cottage that she called home.</p> + +<p>“Why is she weeping?” she asked herself, and +there was woman enough in her to know that +Molly wept because one of her own sex had +proved faithless.</p> + +<p>Blinds were pulled down in the cottage with +the lovely old garden, and the activities that ensued +could only be equaled by a circus breaking +up to leave town. Madame Misel moved with a +quiet precision that showed she was an adept at +making a quick get-away. Misel worked with a +fury of impatience. He went through his desk, +scattering papers hither and yon and burning +everything of no value. Other documents he +stowed carefully away in his breast pocket. The +laboratory was dismantled and small, mysterious-looking +vials packed in boxes and placed in +the huge suit-case that seemed to hold most of +their belongings.</p> + +<p>A letter was written to the landlord informing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +him that his tenants had been called out of Wellington +by the illness of a fictitious sister. A +month’s rent was enclosed. Another letter was +written to the postmaster asking that mail be forwarded +to an entirely imaginary address. The +work proceeded rapidly. The cottage was always +in apple-pie order, as Madame Misel was +certainly an excellent housekeeper.</p> + +<p>“You must write to the president of the college,” +commanded Madame.</p> + +<p>“Naturally! Must I use the same sister?”</p> + +<p>“Of course! Why two lies when one will suffice?”</p> + +<p>A letter to Miss Walker was dispatched forthwith.</p> + +<p>“And now for our disguises,—or rather the +time has come to discard our disguises!” cried +Madame almost joyfully. “I hate to appear as +such a frump!”</p> + +<p>Misel’s disguise was composed principally of +cane and crutch, but at his wife’s instigation he +shaved his mustache. With the help of a checked +suit and red necktie and a brown derby hat a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +trifle too small for him, the pathetic and interesting +teacher of the French language was transformed +into the type of man one sees hanging +around a race track. With a clever brush Madame +put a quirk in his eyebrows that completed +the portrait. Then a bit of court plaster was +stuck on one of the perfect teeth which gave the +handsome Misel a sinister look and suggested to +the beholder former battles and fisticuffs in which +he had been struck in the mouth.</p> + +<p>“Even your dying sister will not recognize +you!” exclaimed his wife.</p> + +<p>Madame’s transformation was even more +startling than her husband’s. First she shook out +her smoothly brushed hair and with the help of +curling tongs soon had a wave that the finest hair +dresser in New York could not have exceeded. +She piled her abundant hair up in curls and +twists and coils, pulling out puffs over her ears. +Then with pencil and rouge pot and powder puff +she went to work on her countenance. A raging +beauty was the outcome, but rather fast and loud +looking. A lavender suit lined and slashed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +corn-colored silk was then donned, with many +rings and bracelets. The flat-heeled shoes were +packed away in the suit-case with the sober costume, +and high-heeled French boots were fitted +on in their stead. A plentiful sprinkling of musk +was added so that the nostrils were assailed as +soon as the eyes.</p> + +<p>“Tough sports!” would have been the verdict +of anyone meeting the Misels. They had decided +on the night train to New York. The cottage +was carefully locked, the key enclosed in the letter +to the landlord, which they posted on their +way to the station. Everything was going +smoothly. The station was empty when the pair +stepped upon the platform and in a moment the +New York train came steaming around the +curve.</p> + +<p>“Thank God, we are getting away unnoticed!” +gasped Misel.</p> + +<p>“Thank God if you choose, but it would be +more to the point if you thanked me. I can’t see +that anyone has helped you but me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well! Have it your own way!” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +the spurious bookmaker as they boarded the +train.</p> + +<p>“Someone got left,” he laughed as they took +their seats in the chair car. “I saw a man and +woman running down the road just as we got +aboard. I am glad they got left. Whoever it is +might have recognized us.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! Didn’t I tell you your own dying +sister would not know you?” and Madame +Misel smoothed her lavender draperies and +jangled her many bracelets and rings, peeping in +the mirror meantime to adjust her large beplumed +hat. There was a commotion in the end +of the Pullman and she heard a familiar voice. +In the mirror she espied a familiar face, and under +the heavily laid on rouge, the woman paled +and the hand that adjusted her hat shook. Misel +buried his face in the evening paper some traveler +had left in his seat, while the innocent cause of +their perturbation found a seat with the help of +the porter.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXI<br /> + +<small>HER FATHER’S OWN DAUGHTER</small></h2> + + +<p>“I don’t see why you take it so hard, Molly +darling,” said Judy as Molly told her of the detectives’ +findings and of the perfidy they had unearthed.</p> + +<p>“Why, I fancy I am grieving that such wickedness +can be in this world,” sighed Molly. “I +liked Madame Misel so much.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I never did like her,” declared Judy.</p> + +<p>Molly smiled, well remembering Judy’s enthusiasm +on arriving at Wellington and telling +of the interesting couple she had met on the train.</p> + +<p>“I know what you are thinking about—of +course I said they were interesting, but I never +did like the woman much—she was too catty for +me.”</p> + +<p>This conversation was interrupted by the loud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +ringing of the telephone bell, which proved to be +a long distance call for Judy from Mr. Kean in +New York. His marching orders had come and +he was to sail for France in a few days, and for +the first time on record he could not take his little +wife with him. Building roads and bridges in +war time was very different from times of peace, +and France at that time was no place for delicate +little ladies.</p> + +<p>“You had better come right up to New York +on the next train,” was his ringing command. +“Your mother needs you and I must see you, +too.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Bobby! Meet me at the Pennsylvania +Station. I’ll take the 12.45—I am not going +to let Kent come. He must be with his +mother one more day,—his mother and Molly. +So long! Be sure and meet me!”</p> + +<p>Then such a scrambling ensued! Kent must +be persuaded he was neither wanted nor needed, +a few things hurled into a bag, her sketch book +tucked in her jacket pocket, and Judy was off +like a whirlwind. She and Kent ran all the way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +to the station only to see the train pulling out as +they stepped upon the platform.</p> + +<p>“I can get it! Keep the old bag!” cried that +young woman as she sprinted down the track, +her young husband running lightly by her side, +laughing in spite of himself. If you have never +run after a train and caught it you cannot realize +the triumphant feeling Judy had as she grasped +the rail and swung herself up on the rear coach. +Fortunately it was not a vestibule train or she +would have been shut out. Kent slung the bag +up after her and then stood in the middle of the +track until his Judy was lost in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“What a girl she is!” he laughed to himself. +“What a dear girl!”</p> + +<p>The dear girl was rescued by a rather indignant +brakeman and led through the empty coach +that happened to be hitched on to the train and +finally installed in the chair car, after many explanations +and excuses had been made to train +conductor and then Pullman conductor.</p> + +<p>Young women have no business on night trains +with no tickets—certainly no business in boarding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +those trains from the rear, thereby risking +their own necks and making the railroads liable +to damage suits.</p> + +<p>“But you see my father telephoned me from +New York,” she confided to the train conductor, +a grizzled looking old fellow with a decidedly +military bearing. “He is going to France next +week and he simply had to see me.—Perhaps you +know my father,” she added with a certain assurance +that everybody connected with railroads +ought to know Bobby.</p> + +<p>“More than likely!” was the grim reply. The +conductor had no idea of being cajoled into good +humor by this daring girl.</p> + +<p>“He is Mr. Robert Kean,—Bobby!”</p> + +<p>The conductor was suddenly a changed creature.</p> + +<p>“Know him! I should say I did! Bless my +soul, if you don’t look like him—same eyes—same +mouth! Ha, ha! See Bob Kean missing a +train! Not much!” and the erstwhile stern captain +of the train now grasped Judy’s hand. +“Come on, I’ll see that you get a chair, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +Kean. I’m certainly pleased to make your acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not Miss Kean any more,—I’m Mrs. +Kent Brown now.—It was my husband who +pitched me and my luggage on the back end of +the train.”</p> + +<p>“Married! By jiminy! I can’t believe Bob +Kean has a married daughter! And your husband +aided and abetted you in jumping on the +back of fast trains, did he?” and the once grim +captain laughed aloud. “Well, I’m glad you +got a game husband. I don’t know what your +father would have done with a ’fraid cat.”</p> + +<p>Judy’s entrance in the Pullman caused some +commotion. The old conductor was laughing +heartily and the brakeman was in a much pleasanter +frame of mind as he handed over Judy’s +bag to the grinning porter. There were about +eight persons in the chair car as Judy entered +and Judy-like, she immediately became intensely +interested in them.</p> + +<p>Of course, the spot of color made by a flashy +dame in lavender attracted her attention first,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +and then her companion in loud checks cried out +to be noticed. What a couple! Race track written +all over both of them! Even from three seats +off Judy could smell the musk on the woman. +The man’s face was hidden by the newspaper and +the woman seemed to be engaged in rapt contemplation +of her beauty in the narrow little mirror +by her chair. To Judy’s disappointment the +gaudy dame whirled her chair around so she +could not see her face.</p> + +<p>“I bet she’s a peacherino!” she said to herself.</p> + +<p>There were other persons in the train that +proved interesting, too: among them a mother +and child who appealed to Judy’s artistic sense; +a G. A. R. veteran who was sure he had been in +worse battles than the Marne; an ancient lady +from Louisiana who made our young artist wild +to paint her white hair and patrician nose. Opposite +Judy’s chair was a young man, (or was he +a young man?) At least he was not an old man! +There were a few tiny lines around his twinkling +bright blue eyes, but his movements were as alert +as a college athlete’s, and his mouth, though very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +firm, had the saucy expression of a street boy. +Judy was sure she had seen his face before. The +way his hair grew on his forehead in a so-called +widow’s peak reminded her vaguely of someone,—the +cleft chin she was sure she had known +somewhere. He was interested in her, too, she +could plainly see. He had a pleasant, dependable +expression, the kind of look one felt meant +that in time of trouble he would be a good person +to call on. He was making himself generally +useful to the madonna-like mother and child; he +had assisted the ancient lady from Louisiana to +get up and sit down several times since Judy had +so unceremoniously boarded the car.</p> + +<p>“I wish I knew where I had known him. His +face is as familiar to me as my own.”</p> + +<p>She felt in her jacket pocket for her sketch +book. She must get an impression of the mother +and child, and the old lady was destined to be +sketched in, too. She longed to do the youngish-oldish +person opposite, but he was too close for +her to permit herself such a familiarity. She +turned over the leaves of her book and suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +came upon the page given up to the Tucker twins +and their friend Page Allison. What delightful +girls they were! Suddenly she could place the +resemblance seen in the gentleman across the +aisle. Of course his forehead and widow’s peak +were the same that Dum Tucker owned, and his +cleft chin was the identical one belonging to Dee +Tucker. Could he be their father?</p> + +<p>She remembered what the girls had told her of +their delightful father. He was a newspaper +man in Richmond, Virginia, and according to the +twins was just about the most wonderful person +in the world. Page Allison, too, had given him +praise, although not quite so wildly unstinted as +his daughters.</p> + +<p>“I think I’ll drop something and let him pick +it up for me and get in a conversation with him,” +Judy laughed to herself. “He is such a squire +of dames, he is sure to pick it up.”</p> + +<p>She turned the pages of her sketch book until +she came to the quick impressions she had made +of Madame Misel at the war relief rooms.</p> + +<p>“The wretch!” was her inward comment, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +her thoughts went back to the last days at Wellington. +She looked up; her eye was again +chained by the gaudy lavender spot and she suddenly +became conscious that she could see the +woman’s face in the large mirror at the end of the +Pullman. Her eyes were down as she perused +the pages of a magazine.</p> + +<p>Another familiar face! Where under Heaven +had she seen just that chin and nose? Her eyes +fell again on the open sketch book. Why, it is +Madame Misel—no other! With quick strokes +she copied the sketch and then cleverly added the +beplumed hat, fluffy collar and fashionably cut +coat. The woman stood up for a moment to get +something from the pocket of her great coat, +hanging on the hook at one side, and then Judy +took in her general contours standing, and added +some draperies to the full length figure she had +also obtained of Madame Misel in the work +room. High heels were put on the flat, unstylish +shoes. The straight severe dress and basque were +transformed into the fashionable, if gaudy, creation. +Judy was careful not to erase any of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +original lines and all of the new parts she +sketched in in dots and dashes.</p> + +<p>The gentleman opposite was plainly interested +in what she was doing and it evidently required +all his self-control to keep from asking to be allowed +to see.</p> + +<p>“They are the Misels and they are running +away!” flashed into Judy’s mind. “It is up to +me to stop them—but how? The gent in checks +is undoubtedly Misel. They can’t fool me; I remember +his ears too well and the way his hands +held things.”</p> + +<p>She glanced across the aisle and her eyes met +the bright blue ones belonging to the widow’s +peak and cleft chin.</p> + +<p>“What would Bobby do in this case?” she +asked herself.</p> + +<p>“Use the sense God gave him and get help if +he couldn’t cope with a thing single-handed,” she +answered herself.</p> + +<p>She accordingly let her sketch book slide from +her lap, rubber and pencil hopping gaily after it.</p> + +<p>“Oh, thank you so much!” she exclaimed as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +the squire of dames immediately dived for the belongings +and restored them to her. “I would +not loose my sketch book for worlds.”</p> + +<p>“I should say not! I have a daughter who is +very much interested in art,—in fact, she is +studying in New York now,—her specialty is +sculpture, though.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know her! She is Dum Tucker!”</p> + +<p>“You know my Dum! How wonderful! +And how did you know she was—I was her father?”</p> + +<p>“By your widow’s peak! I also know you are +Dee’s father by your chin.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker changed his seat, taking the one +by Judy.</p> + +<p>“By Jove! You artists are a clever lot. You +would make a great detective, Mrs. Brown. You +must excuse me for knowing your name, but I +heard you tell the captain what it was,—Mrs. +Kent Brown. My girls have written me how +kind you have been to them and I have been dying +to make myself known to you, but was waiting +for some kind of opening wedge.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And I, too, Mr. Tucker, have been wondering +where I had seen you, when I found your +girls’ pictures in my little book. See! Here they +are!”</p> + +<p>“And little Page, too!” He exclaimed eagerly +scanning the sketches. “You are wonderfully +clever at a likeness.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so? I—Mr. Tucker—I deliberately +scraped up an acquaintance with you because +I want you to do something for me,” and +Judy looked frankly into the honest eyes of her +new acquaintance.</p> + +<p>“Why, Mrs. Brown, you know I am at your +service.”</p> + +<p>“I was sure of you somehow, even if I had +not been almost certain you were related in some +way to Dum and Dee Tucker. My little sketch +book told me that and it told me something else, +too, but I must begin at the beginning.”</p> + +<p>Judy, whispering, began with her meeting of +the Misels, of her interesting the Greens at Wellington, +of Misel’s substituting in French at the +college and of Madame’s work in the war relief.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +Jeffrey Tucker’s eyes flashed as the newspaper +man in him scented a rousing good story. +When Judy got to the part where she and her +friends went out in the night to hunt for adventure +and found it in the manly shape of Misel +taking strenuous exercise for a cripple, he +beamed with joy and felt in his pocket for a pencil. +Judy rapidly told him of the puppy’s +wounded leg and of the tetanus germs as well as +ground glass being found in the dressings. He +set his square jaw and looked as though he could +eat the kaiser and all his crew at one mouthful.</p> + +<p>“And now I have come to the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">dénouement!”</i> +gasped Judy, excitement making her breathless. +“If I could recognize you by your likeness to my +sketches, I fancy I could also recognize Madame +Misel by sketches of herself. I got two of her +this morning at the war relief. The detectives +did not arrest them, as they want to get others +in their dragnet, but in some way the spies must +have caught on to the fact that they were under +suspicion, as they sneaked away.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Sure as shooting! In fact they are on this +train.”</p> + +<p>“No!” excitedly.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. Tucker, you must compose yourself +if we mean to catch the creatures!”</p> + +<p>“Certainly!” and the eager man sank back in +his seat and tried to look as though he were having +a mild conversation with the attractive young +woman who had jumped on the back of the moving +train.</p> + +<p>“Now that is better! Keep that nonchalant +expression for what I am going to tell you——”</p> + +<p>“All right, fire away!”</p> + +<p>“They are on this coach, just three seats +down.—Good boy, not to jump out of your skin! +Now I am going to show you my sketch of the +woman before and after. See, there is no doubt +about her! You walk to the smoker and on the +way back get a good look at her face and I bet +you will be convinced.”</p> + +<p>Jeffrey Tucker did as he was bid, giving Madame +Misel such a casual look that he aroused +no suspicion in her mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Gee! This is great! I’d rather bag some of +these spies than do big hunting in the African +Jungle. Now, most wise of all female detectives, +what do you advise? We must act +quickly.”</p> + +<p>“I think you should take the conductors, both +train and Pullman, into your confidence, and +then send telegrams to New York to have the +spies met with the proper reception. You can +telegraph Bobby, I mean my father, if you think +it best, and he can get in cahoots with the Secret +Service people in New York. Bobby is the kind +of man who doesn’t let things go wrong. When +he bores a hole in the mountain it comes out on +the opposite side just exactly where he meant it +to,—when he swings a bridge across a river it +stays swung,—there is no giving way of supports +and undermining from washings,—Bobby +knows. If you telegraph him, he’ll have detectives +there all right and they will have the necessary +warrants and handcuffs, too.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, Bobby it is!” and Jeffrey Tucker +quickly took Mr. Kean’s address. Next the conductors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +were interviewed, and those good Americans +quickly complied with any and every request. +A long and explicit telegram was written +to the gentleman who did not let mistakes happen, +another one sent to the chief of police, in +case Mr. Kean should not be at home to receive +the telegram, (Jeffrey Tucker being the kind of +man who did not let mistakes occur, either,) and +then there was nothing to do but sit quietly in the +Pullman and wait for the train to steam into +New York.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Judy to be hours and hours, although +the time certainly passed pleasantly with +the friends she made on the train. She and Mr. +Tucker talked to everybody except the two +sporty looking individuals, and they would have +had the audacity to talk with them if they had +been given the slightest encouragement. But the +Misels kept their backs studiously turned to their +fellow travelers and did not court sociability.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXII<br /> + +<small>THE ARREST</small></h2> + + +<p>“Suppose they get off at Manhattan Junction +and go to the Hudson Terminal instead of the +big Pennsylvania Station!” panted Judy, her +eyes shining with excitement and her fluffy hair +standing on end as though an electric shock had +gone through her system.</p> + +<p>“Who is giving the game away now?” teased +her new friend. “I thought of that and warned +the chief when I telegraphed him. If they do +get off there, I’ll get off, too, and you can go on +to the other station where your father will meet +you.”</p> + +<p>“Not much I will! I’m going to keep my eye +on that lavender spot until I see those wrists with +something on them besides gold bracelets. You +see, I feel responsible for this pair, having been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +the one to introduce them to Wellington society. +If they get off at Manhattan Junction, so do I. +Bobby will understand! He would have no use +for me if I didn’t see it through.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you are a real patriot, Mrs. Brown.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I am! But one thing sure I am +not going to give my husband to the cause, and +my father, and then let these mean spies go Scot-free. +Now my dear friend and sister-in-law +Molly,—Mrs. Edwin Green,—is so good that she +can’t believe anyone can be bad. She is just as +patriotic as I am but she can’t believe in the perfidy +of Germany and the Germans. I truly believe +she would not have the heart to nab these +wretches even if she could not deny their guilt. +Molly is an angel herself and I fancy maybe her +angelic qualities do rub off some even on the +worst characters. She may have helped this Madame +Misel some, who knows? But I am going +to help her even more by letting her get a taste +of real punishment.”</p> + +<p>“And I am going to do my best to help you +help her,” laughed Mr. Tucker. “We are nearing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +Manhattan Junction now and I do not see +our friends making ready to get off.”</p> + +<p>The pair sat quietly while the train stopped for +a moment for passengers to change for the downtown +station. Judy and Mr. Tucker were on the +alert to leave the train if they saw the slightest +movement on the part of the Misels, but the latter +sat in evident certainty of their disguise not +having been penetrated.</p> + +<p>“Now the curtain is to go up in a moment!” +cried Judy. “I have never been in such a stew +of expectation!”</p> + +<p>The train had entered its under-water tunnel +and in what seemed hardly a minute they found +themselves in the Pennsylvania Station. Jeffrey +Tucker, true to his nature, must assist the old +lady from Louisiana and the mother and child, +but this time he assisted them by calling the porter +and, with a generous tip, put them in his +hands. He had other and more urgent fish to +fry.</p> + +<p>“There’s Bobby!” cried Judy. “They have +let him through the gates!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>So they had, and others, also. Mr. Robert +Kean was eagerly scanning the windows of the +coaches as they slowly passed in review. By his +side were several alert looking men in plain +clothes and near them were some brass-buttoned +policemen.</p> + +<p>“You go out first,” whispered Mr. Tucker to +the impatient Judy, who looked like a hunting +dog straining at the leash. “I’ll bring up the +rear in case of a bolt.”</p> + +<p>The Misels got up quickly and without any +delay moved towards the door. They seemed +perfectly unconcerned, the woman patting her +curls and hat into shape and Misel actually having +the hardihood to cast an ogling glance at +Judy. That young woman returned his admiring +look with a saucy toss of her head, entering +into the game with her usual vim.</p> + +<p>One hug for Bobby and a whisper in his +ear:</p> + +<p>“The handsome dame in lavender and the lout +in checks!”</p> + +<p>He in turn handed the information on to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +plain clothes men, who were ready with their +bracelets not made of gold.</p> + +<p>The arrest was made so quietly that the +mother and child who were in the midst of it +never did know what was going on, and the old +lady from Louisiana took her serene way right +by the handcuffed Madame Misel without knowing +that that lady had had an addition made to +her bangles. Misel was inclined to give some little +trouble. When he realized they were trapped, +he started back into the chair car, but was met +in a head on collision by Jeffrey Tucker, who had +a few football tricks left over from his not so far +distant youth.</p> + +<p>“Get out of my way! You fool!” cried the +enraged Misel.</p> + +<p>“Softly, my friend! The exit is the other +way,” purred the redoubtable Mr. Tucker, at the +same time putting up his guard, seeing the foreigner +was about to spring upon him. “Madame +has gone out by the door behind you.”</p> + +<p>Bang! Misel’s fist shot out, but Jeffrey +Tucker was a match for any ordinary boxer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +having practiced that manly art to keep up with +his daughters who always put on the gloves to +settle any difficulty, and, as they expressed it, to +let off steam when the family atmosphere got too +thick. He dodged the blow, holding his guard +ready for the next.</p> + +<p>Before the furious creature could recover himself +after having given the empty air such a drubbing, +the detectives approached him from the +rear and in a twinkling he was overcome.</p> + +<p>“What does this mean?” he asked, attempting +an air of dignity.</p> + +<p>“You shall have to come and find out!” was +the laconic reply deigned him by the grim policeman +who had him in charge.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Kean, I am sorry to tell you, but your +daughter will have to come to the police court to +tell what she knows of these persons,” said the +leader of the plain clothes men.</p> + +<p>“I’m not sorry! I want to see it through!” +cried Judy.</p> + +<p>“And so, we are to thank you for this indignity,” +hissed Madame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Thank me or the picturesque garden by your +cottage—whichever you choose. It is a stirring +thing to creep in that lovely garden on a romantic +night and suddenly to see a poor lame man who +has won the sympathy of the community, come +springing out in running togs and have him beat +Douglas Fairbanks and George Walsh in his +jumping. Then to have the gentle, courteous +Madame Misel boldly state that Wellington is +composed of blockheads,—all in perfect German, +too, which was a strange language for such good +Frenchmen to employ in the bosom of the +family.”</p> + +<p>“Judy, I wouldn’t say any more!” said her +father, but his eye was twinkling as he tucked his +daughter’s hand under his arm.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker and Mr. Kean met as long lost +friends. They were what Judy called soul +brothers from the first. The old train conductor +stopped to exchange greetings with his one-time +acquaintance. He was loud in his praise of the +young lady who had scared them all to death by +jumping on the rear end of the moving train.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +He said nothing of the scolding he had given her +before he found out she was Bob Kean’s daughter.</p> + +<p>The sketch book was convincing evidence that +the sporty couple were no other than Monsieur +and Madame Misel. Judy told her story well to +the chief, showing the clever sketches taken before +and after.</p> + +<p>While they were at the police court, a long distance +message was received from Wellington +with the news that the flitting of the spies had +been discovered by the detectives sent there on +the case.</p> + +<p>“It would have been too late if you had not +been so wide awake,” the chief informed Judy.</p> + +<p>“And I could have done nothing if Mr. Tucker +had not taken hold,” declared Judy.</p> + +<p>“Why, my dear Mrs. Brown, you would have +found some other way, I am sure. You do not +come of a breed that lets accidents happen.”</p> + +<p>The Misels turned out to be pure Prussian, +with not one drop of the blood of Alsace in their +veins. Their name was Mitzel and they had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +many crimes to answer for. They had been on +the stage prior to the war and the man was a +noted acrobat and prestidigitator; the woman +had traveled with her husband and assisted him +in his work on the stage, being the hypnotized +lady, the Herodian mystery, the disappearing +spirit, the person who got tied up in the chest and +had a sword run through her,—anything, in fact, +that is usually required of the assistant in such a +business. They were employed to act as spies +and to disseminate all the German propaganda in +their power.</p> + +<p>Misel, or Mitzel, was to have insinuated an +anti-draft spirit at Exmoor, the male college +near Wellington. Also to influence the girls at +Wellington, who in their turn were to influence +their brothers and sweethearts.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Bobby! Only suppose we had not gone +out that night in search of adventure!” cried +Judy, when she was safe under her mother’s +wing.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you just suppose you had never +been born?” boomed the delighted Bobby.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +“When you were once born you were sure to be +out hunting adventure. You are made that way, +eh, Mother?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am afraid she is,” sighed that tiny +lady. “You and Judy are exactly alike.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mind?” asked her big husband humbly.</p> + +<p>“No, I would not have either one of you different. +But I fancy Kent and I are in for lives +of anxiety.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he likes us the way we are, too,” declared +Judy, blushing.</p> + +<p>“Well, I have two things to say:” declared +Mr. Kean, giving a mighty yawn, “I am glad I +let you have a Parisian education if with it you +can make clever enough sketches to catch these +German spies; and the other is, that it is high +time we were all of us in bed.”</p> + +<p>Madame Mitzel, before she was sentenced to +the imprisonment that she so richly deserved, +requested an interview with Judy, which +was granted, although Judy was most reluctant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I can’t bear to see her again! She looked +like a snake caught in a net.”</p> + +<p>“I—want—you—to tell—Mrs. Green—that—I—am +sorry for—her to—know—about me—That +is all! If—I could—have—had a woman—like +that—to—be—my friend—in my—youth—I +would have—been different.” She spoke in +the faltering manner she had used at Wellington, +one she employed in speaking English, and then +she plunged into voluble German, so rapid that +Judy could hardly follow her:</p> + +<p>“But you! You have outwitted me and I +cannot but admire you for it, but I hate you with +all my heart.”</p> + +<p>“That is all right! I’d rather have your hate +than your love! I’ll tell Molly, though.”</p> + +<p>Before we leave the Misels, or Mitzels, for +good, I must tell you that the shipment of paint +arrived at Wellington as the mysterious dealer +had informed Monsieur Jean Misel it would. +One of the Secret Service men remained in Wellington +to receive it. It was light grey, as was +promised; at least, it was marked light grey on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +the outside of the six large cans. On opening +these cans, which I can assure you the detective +did with the utmost caution, many things besides +paint were disclosed,—in fact, there was no paint +there at all. He found various chemicals, necessary +for the making of the modern bomb; poisons +of all sorts, and innocent looking little vials containing +deadly germs. Those six cans if let loose +on the unsuspecting community would have +caused as much damage as the imps in Pandora’s +box.</p> + +<p>Even Molly had to confess that the Misels +were not very good persons, and when her husband +gave her to understand that her own little +Mildred and Dodo might have been poisoned by +polluted water had the foreigners accomplished +all they no doubt intended to with some of those +bottled germs, the young mother came to the conclusion +that they were not only not very good but +they were extremely wicked, and perhaps just +imprisonment was too mild a punishment to be +meted out to them.</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII<br /> + +<small>THEY ALSO SERVE</small></h2> + + +<p>There was a very serious meeting of students +of Wellington being held in the library of the +Square Deal. Twenty of the leading spirits of +the student body had asked Mrs. Edwin Green +to let them confer with her on a most important +matter.</p> + +<p>The college authorities had announced that the +H. C. of L. had affected Wellington just as it +had every person and every institution, and students’ +board would have to be raised for the ensuing +year. This came as a blow to the majority +of girls. Going to college is an expensive matter +at best, and while there are many rich girls gathered +in those institutions, the majority come from +homes of moderate incomes and many from actual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +poverty. It will never be known how many +sacrifices had been made to educate some of those +Wellington girls, and the H. C. of L. had affected +their families just as much as it had the +institution; and the news that the following year +college expenses would increase had caused much +consternation in the student body.</p> + +<p>“We won’t stand for it!” said one tense little +girl from Indiana, who had been working her +way through three years of college by doing all +kinds of odd jobs, which reminded Molly of her +own strenuous student days.</p> + +<p>“It’s harder on you than me, Mary Culbertson,” +said a sturdy sophomore. “You haven’t +but one more year. At least I haven’t wasted as +much time in this old joint as you have.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, please don’t look upon it as +wasted time,” begged Molly.</p> + +<p>“Well, I came for a degree and if I don’t get +it, I consider I have wasted two years. I might +just as well have taken a job at home. A teacher’s +place was open for me then and now it may +be filled for good. A degree will give one a better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +salary, but two years of college won’t get you +anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure some scheme can be worked to +keep down the expenses,” insisted Molly.</p> + +<p>“We can’t live on less food!” bluntly declared +Lilian Swift.</p> + +<p>“Nor plainer!” from a discontented one.</p> + +<p>“It might be plainer without being less nourishing,” +suggested Molly. “How about your +doing some light housekeeping on your own hook +and not trying to board with the college?”</p> + +<p>“But I am sure the college authorities do not +make money on the girls as it is,” said Billie McKym, +who had come to the meeting from truly +altruistic motives, as expenses made no difference +to her personally. “If a great body of girls +cannot be fed on the amount charged now, I am +certain a girl could not live on less if she went in +for herself.”</p> + +<p>Billie, with all her wealth, had a good keen eye +for business and understood the management of +money rather better than any poor girl at Wellington.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I reckon you are right,” said Molly sadly. +“Would you girls mind if I ask my husband to +come in and talk it over with you?”</p> + +<p>“No!” in chorus. “Bring him in!”</p> + +<p>“Not that knowing how to read Chaucer in +old English will make him wise as how to live on +nothing a year,” whispered one.</p> + +<p>Professor Green was in the den with his cousin, +old Major Fern, who had motored in from the +country to have a chat with his favorite kinsman. +Molly entered, smiling at the clouds of tobacco +smoke which almost obscured the two gentlemen.</p> + +<p>“Edwin, I know the Major will excuse you +for a moment. I need you badly.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, my dear! But I hope it is nothing +serious that is beclouding your fair brow,” +said the old gentleman with the courteous manner +of his generation.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is serious in a way,” and Molly told +her husband and his cousin what was the problem +the girls had brought to her to solve.</p> + +<p>“Of course, I can’t blame the college authorities,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +she sighed. “It is hard to feed people as +it is, and with expenses going up, up, I know +they will have to raise the board. But on the +other hand, there are many girls who simply cannot +pay more than they are already paying. I +feel for them, as I was one of them when I was at +college. If the board had been raised one nickel +I should have had to stop. I almost had to as it +was. If it had not been for Edwin’s fondness +for apples, I should have been degreeless to this +day.”</p> + +<p>“Adam and I!” laughed the professor. “But +what do you want me to do, Molly? I am yours +to command.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know exactly! I thought you might +talk to the girls and we might keep on thinking +and praying until some solution is reached.”</p> + +<p>“I have a proposition to make that might interest +your college friends,” said Major Fern. +“They may scorn it, but on the other hand they +may like the idea. Let me talk to them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, how lovely! I knew there would be a +way,” cried the optimistic Molly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Wait until you hear it first,” smiled the old +gentleman.</p> + +<p>Molly led the way to the library, where the +twenty girls were having a hot discussion on +ways and means. She introduced Major Fern, +who took his seat among them and beamed on +them with kindly eyes.</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” he began. “I am not much of a +public speaker but I am going to put a plan before +you and see how it strikes you. I understand +that you are making a kick because of the +raising of board for the ensuing year——”</p> + +<p>“We are!”</p> + +<p>“Well, you know that everything is going +up?”</p> + +<p>“Everything but prayer!” from the discontented +one.</p> + +<p>“Even that may be going up, too,” he answered +solemnly. “Now listen: Perhaps you +know that I am rich,—not so rich as some, but +richer than I have any right to be or any reason +for being——”</p> + +<p>Here Mary Culbertson tossed her proud little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +head as much as to let him know that charity was +not what she wanted. Major Fern saw her and +smiled his approval.</p> + +<p>“I have no idea of offering any of my ill-gotten +gold to you.—I know how you would hate that. +In fact, I haven’t any gold to offer. I am rich +only in land and about as poor as they make ’em +in other things. I am really land poor, having +much more land than I have any use for or can +till. I can’t get labor to keep up my farms. I +have been thinking of selling an especially fertile +farm about four miles from Wellington, but I +don’t want to lose money on it, and if I sell at this +time I am sure to. This farm comprises about +two hundred acres of as good land as one can find +in these parts, and that is saying a great deal. +And now I am coming to my scheme——”</p> + +<p>The old gentleman paused while the girls +waited in breathless eagerness.</p> + +<p>“I will let you have this farm if you will work +it for me,—have it for as long as you need it. +You don’t know what can be done in the way of +intensive farming if one can get the labor. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +could raise enough potatoes to run your mess for +the winter; enough tomatoes and beans to can, +and what’s more you can can them right on the +spot.”</p> + +<p>“Hurrah! Hurrah!” shouted Billie McKym. +“The problem is solved or I’m a Boche.”</p> + +<p>“Are you willing to undertake it?” asked the +Major.</p> + +<p>“Of course we are willing!” cried Lilian.</p> + +<p>“The ones who live far can take the first part +of the summer, and the last, just before college +opens, and the ones who are close can fill in during +the midsummer,” said Molly, immediately +grasping the possibility of the plan.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll leave it to you young ladies to +work up, and when you care to, I’ll take you over +the place. There is a good house and well and +plenty of fruit,—apples to feed to the hogs——”</p> + +<p>“That suits me!” declared Edwin, who had +been quiet while his cousin was unfolding the +plan. “I see no reason, seriously, why this idea +should not be wonderfully successful,—not only +should it bring you back to college and keep you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +for the same, or even less, money than you have +hitherto had to pay, but it will at the same time +help materially in the food situation that the +country is going to have to face.”</p> + +<p>“Will you be one of that committee that must +take hold of this thing?” asked Billie.</p> + +<p>“If the student body so wishes!”</p> + +<p>“Well, we so wish!” came from twenty +throats.</p> + +<p>“You and Mrs. Green,—she is already one of +us. As for you, Major Fern, we hardly know +how to thank you for what you have done,” said +the president of the juniors.</p> + +<p>“Don’t thank me! I have done nothing! Instead +of selling a farm at a loss when I can’t get +labor to work it, I am going to ask some beautiful +young ladies to work it for me.”</p> + +<p>“We might drink him down,” whispered a +timid girl.</p> + +<p>“Of course! Drink him down!”</p> + +<p>And without more ado the twenty girls, with +Molly chiming in and Edwin holding down a +second, sang:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">“Here’s to Major Fern! Drink him down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here’s to Major Fern! Drink him down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here’s to Major Fern! Here’s to Major Fern!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink him down! Drink him down! Drink him down!”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>“Fine! That beats a wreath of bay,” beamed +the dear old gentleman. “And now I’ll take +myself off. I forgot to say I’ll have the land +turned under for you and give the use of a team +whenever you need it.”</p> + +<p>He was gone. The girls, who only a few moments +before had felt so depressed, were now +filled with hope and animation. Degrees were +to be had, after all. Of course it meant work, +but that would be fun.</p> + +<p>“Oh, gee! I’m happy!” cried Mary Culbertson. +“But we must get busy in a hurry.”</p> + +<p>“First we must see Prexy and get her to coöperate,” +suggested Molly.</p> + +<p>“Sure! Let’s do it in order, and find out if +we do our part if the college authorities will do +theirs. I dote on digging potatoes, myself,” +said Lilian.</p> + +<p>Committees were formed immediately; one to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +see Prexy; one to go view their estate; another to +look into housing conditions; another to canvas +the student body and find out who would and +who wouldn’t, who preferred to plant and who to +reap.</p> + +<p>Billie McKym was wild with enthusiasm. +“Do you realize, Molly, that I won’t have to +spend a summer in Newport, after all? I can +put it up to my relations that I am needed in +these parts. I mean to ask for a larger allowance, +though, as I can help out some on the sly. +I am thinking about buying some Close-to-Nature +houses and presenting them to the agricultural +club. We shall have to have overalls, too,—and +farming implements.—I think I’ll make +Grandmother and Uncle come across in good +shape.”</p> + +<p>Prexy, Miss Walker, was not only willing to +coöperate but delighted that the students were +finding a way out of the difficulty. It was a +deep grief to her, this raising of prices, and she +knew only too well how many girls would be cut +out of their degrees by this necessary step.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many interviews with Major Fern had to be +arranged and many meetings of committees had +to be held, but finally everything was under way +for the agricultural club’s work on the farm so +kindly donated by its delighted owner.</p> + +<p>“By Jove, I begin to feel that I’m helping to +win the war!” he declared. “I have been hating +myself for a useless hulk of a veteran who was +too old to fight and too old-fashioned to suggest +to others how to fight, but if I can be the means +of keeping a lot of girls at college I think I am +doing pretty well; especially if by so doing, those +girls will grow food enough for themselves. +Every potato is equal to a hand grenade and +every bean to a bullet.”</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV<br /> + +<small>THE TRENCHES</small></h2> + + +<p>Molly and Edwin found themselves deeper in +this agricultural scheme than they had at first +bargained for. If it was to be done at all, it +must be well done and quickly. There must be +order and system. Suddenly they awoke to the +realization that if it was to be well done and +quickly done, it was up to them, the Greens, to +do it.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid, my dear, that you must be the +chaperone and I must turn farmer. This is a +stupendous undertaking and for the good name +of Wellington we must see it through.”</p> + +<p>“It will mean work all summer for you, when +you so need a holiday, you poor old fellow.”</p> + +<p>“I need no more holiday than you do. You +haven’t been idle one minute this whole college<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +year. I have a feeling that this summer we have +no business with holidays anyhow. The world is +too busy, too upset for any of us, who are able, to +lay off. I mean to dig and delve here at home +and do all the good I can.”</p> + +<p>“I think we ought to rent the Orchard Home +for the summer, don’t you?” asked Molly, turning +her head away so her husband could not see +what it cost her to make that suggestion.</p> + +<p>“Why, Molly honey, I can’t bear to think of +it. It is hard enough on you not to be able to go +to Kentucky for vacation, but I don’t think you +should have to think of strangers as being among +your apple trees.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t be bad, not nearly so bad as you +think. At least, the little brown bungalow won’t +be quite so lonesome as it would be empty all the +year, and we might buy tons of seed with the rent +money or even take care of some war orphans.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you are right,—you usually are. I’ll +write to a real estate agent in Louisville immediately +and put it on the market for the summer. +I hate to do it, though. Not that it will make so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +much difference to me. Wherever you are is my +Orchard Home, honey!”</p> + +<p>The Major’s farm was dubbed “The +Trenches” by the members of the agricultural +club. It was a suitable name, for these girls felt +that they were in the war almost as much as the +soldier boys themselves.</p> + +<p>Early in May Molly moved to the old farmhouse +to superintend arrangements for the many +girls later to be housed there. It was decided to +run the place more or less as a military camp is +run, with squads detailed for various duties.</p> + +<p>“Only our trench digging will be in the potato +fields and our drilling in the bean patch,” Billie +declared.</p> + +<p>Billie was in a state of ecstasy from the first. +She was General Molly’s aide-de-camp, giving +time, money, and thought to the undertaking.</p> + +<p>“It is so splendid really to be helping! I +wanted to do something to help the Government +and now I believe I am going to. I should like +best to shoulder a gun and take a crack at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +Huns, but since that cannot be, I’ll shoulder a +pick and take a crack at the soil.”</p> + +<p>Billie, whose post-graduate studies at Wellington +were not very important, had cut and +gone to The Trenches with Molly. They had +installed themselves in a corner of the rambling +old farmhouse and were as busy as bees getting +ready for the thirty girls who were to land on +them the last week in May. Katy and the two +children were with them, but Kizzie had been +left in Wellington to look after the master, +who was up to his neck in work for the finals at +college.</p> + +<p>The students at Wellington had been canvassed +from A to Z, and with a deal of clerical +work, all of the ones who were to join the agricultural +club had been enrolled and their time of +service settled on and arranged for. Billie had +donated six Close-to-Nature houses which were +to be set up on the grassy lawn of the old farm. +The cots she had wheedled out or her uncle. +Farming implements, such as hoes, rakes, spades, +gasoline ploughs and cultivators she had, as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +expressed it, “blasted out of Grandmother McKym.”</p> + +<p>“They don’t understand me in the least, my +uncle and my grandmother, but they love me, I +really believe, and I fancy they always hope I’ll +come to my senses and marry in ‘the set’ some of +these days. They are really dears,” Billie explained +to Molly as they helped to unload the +wagons that had just arrived laden with the tents +and implements.</p> + +<p>“I think they are certainly very generous,” +declared Molly, pulling out a bundle of rakes.</p> + +<p>From the beginning these girls had determined +not to be dependent upon the merely masculine +to fetch and carry for them, and Molly and Billie +had pitched in with a will to do without men if +need be.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, generous enough! They are glad +when I let them off with nothing more troublesome +than writing checks. I believe Uncle Donald +was scared stiff that I might insist on his coming +down here to help dig. And as for Grandmother,—she +would rather ante up thousands of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +dollars than have to drag her silk skirts around in +the wet grass here at The Trenches. They don’t +see for an instant that I am kind of patriotic in +helping this way. They think I am just a faddist. +Maybe I am, but somehow I feel that I have +ideals! Do you think I am just a silly goose to +think so?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed! I know you have ideals,—I +should hate to think you didn’t,—very high +ideals,” said Molly, as together they wheeled the +barrow laden with hoes and rakes out to the tool +house. “I reckon your uncle and grandmother +have them, too, only perhaps they are not so open +about them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, they have them. Uncle Donald loves +to talk about them, but Grandmother isn’t so +keen on expressing herself. Sometimes I think +his ideals are mostly literary and hers sartorial. +He is a great reader of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">belles lettres</i> and Grandmother +has an instinct for clothes that is truly remarkable.”</p> + +<p>“You have it, too.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I do like ’em, but I like to dress other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +persons better than I do myself. If I had been +poor, I’d have gone into the business. I may do +it yet, but now until this war is over it seems to +me it doesn’t make a bit of difference how anyone +is dressed—anybody but Mother Earth. The +soil dressed with a good fertilizer is more important +than silk raiment.”</p> + +<p>“How about literature?” laughed Molly, her +friend’s enthusiasm amusing her and at the same +time pleasing her. “Do you think writing +should stop as well as dressing?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course scribblers will scribble and +anyone who has a message to deliver will have to +spout it out, war time or not, but they may not +think they are so all-fired important. A letter +from the most ignorant soldier at the front will +have more real stuff in it than all of the vaporings +of the poet who only imagines gunfire.”</p> + +<p>“And here far from the strife——”</p> + +<p>“Here we will make sonnets with hoe and +rake!”</p> + +<p>“Our lines made by the gasoline plough shall +be beautiful and harmonious!” suggested Molly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Our onion patch shall be worthy to be put +into verse along with Eugene Field’s Onion +Tart,” said Billie, going Molly one better.</p> + +<p>“Our potato field shall be as full of solid refreshment +as Charles Dudley Warner’s five feet +of classics. Only smell the newly-ploughed +earth! Isn’t it delicious?”</p> + +<p>The wagons were unloaded, the farming implements +piled neatly in the tool house and the +Close-to-Nature houses dotted about the lawn +ready for the stupendous task of being put up. +The girls were waiting for Katy, whom they had +dubbed “the powerful Katrinka,” to come help +them with that job. Katy was in her element. +She had been born and raised in the country, and +now that she was once more where things were +growing, where she could help them grow, she +was as happy an Irish girl as there was in all the +land. Nothing was too difficult for her to do and +her great strength helped Molly and Billie out of +many a quagmire of work that seemed too heavy +for them to accomplish without masculine aid.</p> + +<p>“And now Oi’m ready for to help put oop the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +little play houses,” she said as she joined Molly +and Billie.</p> + +<p>“That’s fine,” said her mistress, “but before +we begin, just let’s smell the ploughed ground a +little. Don’t you love it, Katy?”</p> + +<p>“Sure! And it beats the perfumery that +comes in a bottle, to my moind,” said the girl, +sniffing delightedly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why they don’t bottle the smell of +new ploughed earth just as they have new mown +hay,” laughed Billie. “I know two who would +want to buy it.”</p> + +<p>“Deed and Oi’d buy a gallon of sooch smells!”</p> + +<p>“Do you know Masefield’s ‘Everlasting +Mercy,’ Billie? You and Katy listen while I tell +you the part about ploughing and then we’ll put +up the tent houses.”</p> + +<p>Very charming was the picture made by this +group of girls. So Edwin Green thought as he +walked silently across the lawn of the old farm. +Katy, the sturdy Irish girl, was not without picturesque +lines. Her look was somewhat that of +Bastien Lepage’s peasant Jeanne d’Arc as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +stood in rapt reverie while her beloved mistress +gave voice to those wonderful lines of England’s +greatest modern poet. Billie looked very down-to-date +in her khaki overalls and stubby shoes, +while Molly was very Mollyesque in the blue +linen blouse that was the only true Molly Brown +blue.</p> + +<p>She did not hear her husband as he stepped +lightly across the green spring grass and he motioned +to Billie not to let her know he was there. +He stood silently, with bared head while she recited. +Molly’s voice had always appealed to Edwin, +in fact it had been the first thing that had +attracted him—and when Molly recited poetry!</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘The past was faded like a dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came the jingling of a team,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ploughman’s voice, a clink of chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow hoofs, and harness under strain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up the slow slope a team came bowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Callow at his autumn ploughing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Callow stooped above the hales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ploughing the stubble into wales.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His grave eyes looking straight ahead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shearing a long straight furrow red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His plough-foot high to give it earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bring new food for men to birth.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘O wet red swathe of earth laid bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O truth, O strength, O gleaming share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O patient eyes that watch the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ploughman of the sinner’s soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Jesus, drive the coulter deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To plough my living man from sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘Slow up the hill the plough team plod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Callow at the task of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Helped by man’s wit, helped by the brute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turning a stubborn clay to fruit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye forever on some sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help him plough a perfect line.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="star">*******</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘I kneeled there in the muddy fallow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew that Christ was there with Callow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Christ was standing there with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Christ had taught me what to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I should plough, and as I ploughed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Savior Christ would sing aloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I drove the clods apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ would be ploughing in my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through rest-harrow and bitter roots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all my bad life’s rotten fruits.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘O Christ, who holds the open gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Christ, who drives the furrow straight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of holy white birds flying after,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, all my heart’s field red and torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou wilt bring the young green corn,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The young green corn divinely springing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young green corn forever singing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the field is fresh and fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy blessèd feet shall glitter there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we will walk the weeded field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell the golden harvest’s yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The corn that makes the holy bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which the soul of man is fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The holy bread, the food unpriced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.’”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Katy wiped her eyes and Billie winked away +the tears that would gather. Molly turned and +saw Edwin standing only a few feet from her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Edwin, I didn’t know you were there. +I declare I haven’t been spouting poetry ever +since we got here! We have done a lot and were +going now to put up the tent houses, but you +aren’t to help. I’ll give you some tea and let you +rest up after your tramp. We weren’t expecting +you until Saturday——”</p> + +<p>“And don’t want me now?”</p> + +<p>“Want you! Why, Edwin Green, B. A., +M. A., P. H. D.! You know I always want +you,” and then Billie and Katy thought it was +time to leave the married lovers alone for a while.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I want to help put up the houses, though,” +insisted Edwin as he and Molly wended their +way to a pretty little arbor covered by a crimson +rambler that gave promise, if one might judge +from the many buds, of being a glorious sight +later in the season.</p> + +<p>“But we can do it later by our lonesomes. You +don’t know how many things we can do without +the help of men, especially when one of us is as +powerful as Katy and one as spunky as Billie.”</p> + +<p>“And how about you?” and he pinched her rosy +cheek.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m not much force, I am afraid, but I +have the bump of stickativeness which is sometimes +as good as strength and takes the place of +cleverness.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think you girls could run this +farm without the help of a man?”</p> + +<p>“Of course we could, once the heavy ploughing +is done, and Katy says she could have done +that, too, if we had wanted her to. Do you want +to go off on a trip somewhere and let us try to +run it without you?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> + +<p>Edwin looked searchingly into Molly’s blue +eyes. His gaze was long and earnest and in his +brown eyes Molly read a kind of sadness she had +never seen there before.</p> + +<p>“Edwin, dearest, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Molly, it isn’t anything unless you want it +to be.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me!”</p> + +<p>“Would you think it right or wrong if I +should try to get into the service, military service, +I mean?—I have taken an examination and am +physically fit.—I won’t apply to go into training +at Fort Myer unless you approve.—It rests entirely +with you, honey.”</p> + +<p>“You must go if you think it right.” Molly +spoke without a tremor, although it did seem to +her for a moment as though her heart would +burst. How could a heart get so big all of a sudden? +And then it seemed to her she was sounding +cold and unemotional when Edwin wanted something +else. “I—I—want you to go! I think it +is right for men just like you to go—men with +brains and the power of taking hold and leading—I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +wouldn’t have you stay behind for me for +anything on earth. I—I—am proud of you and +want you to do exactly what you think is right, +and—and—I think you are right—just as right +as can be—and—and—I love you more than +ever.”</p> + +<p>It seemed to both Edwin and Molly that at +no time since their walk in the forest of Fontainebleau +when the eternal question had been settled +between them had any moment been so filled with +love and understanding as now when he folded +her in his arms. His Molly! His own, brave, +true Molly! Her Edwin! Her honorable, +courageous Edwin!</p> + +<p>“I thought that I could content myself by +digging and delving, but somehow I have been +feeling lately that if you would consent, it was up +to me to do something else. I don’t feel critical +in the least towards the men of my age who are +not going to the war,—not the younger ones, +either, if they do not feel called upon,—but somehow +when one has been called as I have, I think +he should answer. I don’t know why a staid college<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +professor should think it is his vocation, but +I do think it, and, oh, dearest, it is good of you +to take it this way!”</p> + +<p>“I could take it no other way. Is not my +mother giving God-speed to her sons? Is not +Judy encouraging Kent? Is not Nance not only +sending Andy but going with him? Who am I +that I should say you shall and you shan’t do +things for your country?”</p> + +<p>“But you see, dear girl, there are the children +to take care of in case—in case—in case I should—should—well—stump +my toe.”</p> + +<p>“I can take care of them as my mother did +of all of us. My father died when I was a tiny +child and still my mother raised me. But don’t +stump your toe. Pick up your feet when you +walk—and—and——”</p> + +<p>Here Molly came very near shedding the tears +that she felt must be shed sooner or later, but she +was determined that it should be later and that +her soldier boy should not see them. She jumped +up and offered to race him to the house where +Katy was laying the tea table on the porch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>Edwin knew Molly too well not to understand +that this gaiety was nothing but camouflage to +conceal emotions that she was too brave to show.</p> + +<p>“What will your mother think?”</p> + +<p>“She will think that I have married well,” was +her gay rejoinder.</p> + +<p>“And what does my Mildred think when I +tell her her daddy is going to be a soldier?” he +asked as he held the little girl close in his arms.</p> + +<p>Mildred had been busy with a tiny hoe and +shovel on a patch of ground given over to her +tender ministrations. Her hands were very +grubby and her face not much better, but Edwin +seemed not to mind the general griminess of his +daughter.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say bully for Daddy! An’ I bet if +Dodo’ll wake up, he’d say he was a-goin’, too. +Boys is so rombustious.”</p> + +<p class="star2">******</p> + +<p>And now we must leave Molly Brown and +her College Friends at the momentous hour when +their country is plunged in a great and righteous +war. What the future holds for them is as much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +a mystery as what it holds for any of us. One +thing is sure: Molly is doing her duty,—doing it +cheerfully and bravely. Around her are college +girls and more college girls, each one doing her +bit. And so the fields are ploughed, the crops +are planted and gathered. Fruit and vegetables +are preserved and canned. The men and boys +are training for the trenches, but the women and +girls are in training, too.</p> + +<p>Molly often thinks of that moment when she +stood sniffing the up-turned mould, with her husband +standing near listening to her as she recited +the lines from Masefield; and now as the days +multiply she finds comfort in Masefield’s ending +to “The Everlasting Mercy”:</p> + +<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0b">“‘How swift the summer goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forget-me-not, pink, rose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young grass when I started<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the hay is carted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now my song is ended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the summer spended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blackbird’s second brood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Routs beech leaves in the wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pink and rose have speeded,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forget-me-not has seeded.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Only the winds that blew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rain that makes things new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth that hides things old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blessings manifold.’”<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<p class="center r4">THE END</p> +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> + + +<div class="ads"> +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/ad01.png" width="117" height="169" alt="The Girl Scouts Canoe Trip" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="adtitle1">The<br /> +Girl Scouts<br /> +Series<br /></p> + +<p class="adauthor">BY EDITH LAVELL</p> + + +<p>A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by +an author of wide experience in Scouts’ craft, as +Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.</p> + +<p class="center"><small>Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.</small></p> + +<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.</p> + +<hr class="l3"/> + +<ul class="lsoff"><li>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN’S SCHOOL</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS’ GOOD TURN</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CANOE TRIP</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS’ RIVALS</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS’ VACATION ADVENTURES</li> +<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS’ MOTOR TRIP</li></ul> + +<hr class="l4"/> + +<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the Publishers.</small></p> + +<p class="center"><big>A. 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L. BURT COMPANY</big></p> +<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p> + +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/ad03.png" width="120" height="169" alt="Marjorie Dean College Sophomore" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="adtitle1">Marjorie Dean<br /> +College<br /> +Series</p> + +<p class="adauthor">BY PAULINE LESTER.</p> + +<p><small>Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.</small></p> + + +<p>Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High +School Series will be eager to read this new series, +as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in +these stories.</p> + +<p class="center"><small>All Clothbound. Copyright Titles.</small></p> + +<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.</p> + +<hr class="l3"/> + +<ul class="lsoff"> +<li>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN</li> +<li>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE</li> +<li>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR</li> +<li>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR</li></ul> + +<hr class="l4"/> + +<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the Publishers.</small></p> + +<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p> +<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p> + +<hr class="l1"/> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/ad04.png" width="128" height="176" alt="The Campfire Girls in the Maine Woods" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="adtitle2">The Camp Fire<br /> +Girls Series</p> + +<p class="center">By HILDEGARD G. FREY</p> +<hr class="l5"/> + +<p>A Series of Outdoor Stories for +Girls 12 to 16 Years.</p> + +<p class="center">All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles</p> + +<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH</p> +<hr class="l5"/> + +<ul class="lsoff"> +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; +or, The Winnebagos go Camping.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The +Wohelo Weavers.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, +The Magic Garden.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along +the Road That Leads the Way.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS’ LARKS AND PRANKS; or, +The House of the Open Door.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN’S ISLE; or, The +Trail of the Seven Cedars.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; +or, Glorify Work.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over +the Top with the Winnebagos.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, +The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.</li> + +<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; +or, Down Paddles.</li> +</ul> + + +<hr class="l4"/> + +<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the Publishers.</small></p> + +<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p> +<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="tnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber’s note:</b></p> +<p>A few minor printer’s errors have been corrected. +Otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistent +spelling and hyphenation.</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN'S COLLEGE FRIENDS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 36733-h.txt or 36733-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/6/7/3/36733">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/3/36733</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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