Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XII

  A RECKLESS CHAUFFEUR

  Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and clear, with just enough frost in theair to make one's blood tingle. It had been a mild fall, with a lateIndian summer, and only one or two snow flurries that had lasted but afew hours. This was unusual for Oakdale, as winter generally came with arush before the middle of November, and treated the inhabitants of thatnorthern city to a taste of zero weather long before the Christmasholidays.

  It was with a light heart that Grace Harlowe ate her breakfast andflitted about the house, putting a final touch here and there beforereceiving her guests. Before eleven o'clock everything was finished, andas she arranged the last flower in its vase she felt a little thrill ofpride as she looked about the pretty drawing room. Before going upstairsto dress, she ran into the reception hall for the fourth time to feasther eyes upon a huge bunch of tall chrysanthemums in the beautifulJapanese vase that stood in the alcove under the stairs. They had comeabout an hour before with a note from Tom Gray saying that he hadarrived in Oakdale that morning, had seen the boys and would be aroundto help David and Reddy at the "girl convention," as he termed it.

  Grace was overjoyed at the idea of seeing Tom Gray again. They had beenfirm friends since her freshman year, and had entertained a wholesome,boy-and-girl preference for each other untinged by any trace of foolishsentimentality.

  As she dressed for dinner, Grace felt perfectly happy except for onething. She still smarted a little at Eleanor's rude reply to herinvitation. She was one of those tender-hearted girls who disliked beingon bad terms with any one, and she really liked Eleanor still, in spiteof the fact that Eleanor did not in the least return the sentiment.

  Grace sighed a little over the rebuff, and then completely forgot hertrouble as she donned the new gown that had just come from thedressmaker. It was of Italian cloth in a beautiful shade of dark red,made in one piece, with a yoke of red and gold net, and trimmed withtiny enameled buttons. It fitted her straight, slender figure perfectlyand she decided that for once she had been wise in foregoing herfavorite blue and choosing red.

  The party that evening was to be a strictly informal affair. Grace hadsuspected that the girls whom the members of the Phi Sigma Tau were toentertain were not likely to possess evening gowns. In order to avoidany possibility of hurt feelings, she had quietly requested thoseinvited to wear the afternoon gowns in which they would appear at thegame.

  Before one o'clock her guests had arrived. They were three shy, quietgirls who had worshiped Grace from a distance, and who had beensurprised almost to tears by her invitation. Two of them were fromPortville, a small town about seventy miles from Oakdale, and had begunHigh School with Grace, who had been too busy with her own affairs up tothe present to find out much about them.

  The other girl, Marie Bateman, had entered the class that year. She hadcome from a little village forty miles south of Oakdale, was the oldestof a large family, her mother being a widow of very small means. As hermother was unable to send her away to school, she had done clerical workfor the only lawyer in the home town for the previous two years,studying between whiles. She had entered the High School in the juniorclass, determining to graduate and then to work her way through NormalSchool. By dint of questioning, Grace had discovered that she lived in ashabby little room in the suburbs, never went anywhere and did anythinghonest in the way of earning money that she could find to do.

  The realization of what some of these girls were willing to endure forthe sake of getting an education made Grace feel guilty at being socomfortably situated. She determined that the holidays that year shouldnot find them without friends and cheer.

  After a rousing Thanksgiving dinner, in which the inevitable turkey,with all its toothsome accompaniments, played a prominent part, thegirls retired to Grace's room for a final adjustment of hair and a lastsurvey in the mirror before going to the game. High School mattersformed the principal theme of conversation, and Grace was not surprisedto learn that Eleanor had been carrying things with a high hand inthird-year French class, in which Ellen Holt, one of the Portvillegirls, recited.

  "She speaks French as well as Professor La Roche," said Miss Holt, "butshe nearly drives him crazy sometimes. She will pretend she doesn'tunderstand him and will make him explain the construction of a sentenceover and over again, or she will argue with him about a point until heloses his temper completely. She makes perfectly ridiculous caricaturesof him, and leaves them on his desk when class is over, and she asks himto translate impertinent slang phrases, which he does, sometimes,before he realizes how they are going to sound. Then the whole classlaughs at him. She certainly makes things lively in that class."

  The sound of the bell cut short the chat and the four girls hurrieddownstairs to greet Jessica, Mabel and the girls who were the Bright'sguests. Nora and Anne, with their charges, came next, and last of allDavid, Tom and Hippy paraded up the walk, in single file, blowinglustily on tin horns and waving blue and white banners. A brief seasonof introduction followed, then Grace distributed blue and white rosetteswith long streamers that she had made for the occasion, to each memberof the party. Well supplied with Oakdale colors, they set out for thefootball grounds, where an immense crowd of people had gathered to seethe big game of the season.

  "I shall never forget the first football game I saw in Oakdale," saidAnne to David as they made their way to the grandstand. "It ended verysensationally for me."

  "I should say it did," replied David, smiling. "Confidentially, Anne, doyou ever hear from your father?"

  "Not very often," replied Anne. "He is not liable to trouble me again,however, because he knows that I will not go back to the stage, nomatter what he says. He was with the western company of 'True Hearts'last year, but I don't know where he is now, and I don't care. Don'tthink I'm unfeeling; but it is impossible for me to care for him, eventhough he is my father."

  "I understand," said David sympathetically. "Now let's forget him andhave a good time."

  "Hurrah! Here comes the band!" shouted Hippy.

  The "Oakdale Military Band" took their places in the improvisedbandstand and began a short concert before the game with the "Stars andStripes," while the spectators unconsciously kept time with their feetto the inspiring strains.

  When the two teams appeared on the field there were shouts of enthusiasmfrom the friends of the players, and the band burst forth with the HighSchool song, in which the students joined.

  After the usual preliminaries, the game began, and for the next houreverything else was forgotten save the battle that waged between the twoteams.

  Miriam Nesbit, Eva Allen and Marian Barber, with their guests, joinedGrace's party, and soon the place they occupied became the very centerof enthusiasm. Reddy, who was playing left end on the home team,received an ovation every time he made a move, and when towards the endof the game he made a touchdown, his friends nearly split their loyalthroats in expressing their approval.

  It was over at last, and Oakdale had won a complete victory over theGeorgetown foe, who took their defeat with becoming grace. As soon asReddy could free himself from the grasp of his school fellows, who wouldhave borne him from the field in triumph if he had not stoutly resisted,he hurried to his friends, who showered him with congratulations.

  "O you Titian-haired star!" cried Hippy, clasping his hands in mockadmiration. "You are the rarest jewel in the casket. Words fail toexpress my feelings.

  "'O joy, O bliss, O rapture! Let happiness now hap! I am a sea of gurgling glee, with ecstacy on tap.'"

  Hippy recited this effusion in a killing falsetto voice, and endeavoredto embrace Reddy fervently, but was dragged back by Tom and David, toReddy's visible relief.

  "He's the idol of the hour. Don't put your irreverent hands on him," wasDavid's injunction.

  "But I adore idols," persisted Hippy. "Let me at him."

  "Quit it, fat one!" growled Reddy, with a grin. "I'll settle with youlater."

  With gay laughter and je
st, the young folks made their way from thegrounds and started down the road toward home.

  The whole party, walking four abreast, had just turned the curve wherethe road ended and Main Street began, when there was a hoarse honk!honk! and a runabout decorated in blue and white, containing Eleanor andEdna Wright, bore down upon them at lightning speed. The girls, utteringlittle cries of alarm, scattered to both sides of the road, with theexception of Mabel Allison, who, in her hurry to get out of the way,stumbled and fell directly in the path of the oncoming machine.