Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XXIII

  IN THE THICK OF THE FIGHT

  How examinations loom up on the fatal day, like monstrous obstacles thatmust be overcome! How the hours slip past, with nothing to break thestillness save the scratching of pens on foolscap paper, while eachstudent draws upon the supply of knowledge stored up during the wintermonths!

  A fly buzzes on the window pane; a teacher rises, tiptoes slowly aboutthe room and sits down again. She can do nothing, now, but keep watch onthe pairs of drooping shoulders and the tired, flushed faces.

  Anne was so absorbed in her work that she was oblivious to everythingabout her. Her pen moved with precision over her paper and her copy wasneat and clear.

  It was the second day of the examinations and she felt that her fatewould soon be decided; but she was too tired now to worry. She worked onquietly and steadily. She had almost finished, and, as she answered onequestion after another, she was more and more buoyed up by theconviction that she would win the prize.

  Miriam had finished her work. Her impatient nature would not permit herto do anything slowly. As she gave a last flourishing stroke with herpen, she leaned back, looking about her. She smiled contemptuously asher eyes rested on Anne.

  "What a shabby, slow little creature she is!" Miriam murmured. "It wouldbe a disgrace for a girl like me to be beaten by her. I'll never endureit in the world."

  It was not long before the girls had all finished and turned in theirpapers to the teacher in charge.

  "Oh, glorious happy day!" cried Nora, as she sped joyously down thecorridor. "Examinations are over, and now for a good time!"

  A dozen or more of the freshman class had been invited to Miriam's to atea to celebrate the close of school. Anne, of course, was not invited;but Grace and her friends had received invitations and promptly acceptedthem.

  Grace had taken Nora and Jessica into her confidence to some extent. Sheneeded their help, but she had not mentioned the letter from Anne'sfather. The three girls met early by appointment, at the Harlowe house,to discuss matters before going to Miriam Nesbit's.

  "Here's a list of the people in Oakdale," said Nora, "who have boughtsandalwood perfume. I have been to four drug stores and all the drygoods stores."

  Grace took the list and read:

  "'Mrs. I. Rosenfield, Miss Alice Gwendolyn Jones, Mr. Percival Butz,etc.' Good heavens!" she cried, "there's not a single person on thislist who has anything to do with Oakdale High School. Mr. PercivalButz," she laughed. "The idea of a man buying perfume. Really, girls,"she added in despair, "we've been wasting our time. I can't see that anyof us has made the least headway. I have called on almost every freshmanin the class and inquired what her favorite perfume is, and I know someof them thought I was silly. Anyway, not one of them claimed to usesandalwood."

  "The stupidest girls would be the ones who would be most likely to wantto copy the papers," observed Jessica, "but those girls are much toonice to believe such horrid things about. I went to see Ellen Wigginsand Sallie Moore yesterday afternoon. Neither of them use perfume.Sallie Moore told me she had an orris root sachet that had almost lostits scent. Which reminds me," she continued, "why couldn't thishandkerchief have been scented by some other means than just perfume.Perhaps it was put into a mouchoir case with sandalwood powder."

  "Why, of course," exclaimed Grace. "Jessica, I never thought of askingwho had been buying sachet powders. You have a great head."

  "Must I go back and ask all those storekeepers for more lists?" demandedNora.

  "No, child," replied Grace. "Just give us time to think first."

  "It's time to go to Miriam's anyhow," observed Jessica. "Perhaps somesort of inspiration will come on the way," and the three girls set outfor the tea party.

  As they paused to admire the beautiful flower beds on the Nesbit lawnJessica said:

  "Have you inquired Miriam's favorite perfume?"

  "Oh, yes," answered Grace. "She said she liked them all and had nofavorites."

  "Why are all these strange young women breaking into my premises?"demanded a voice behind them.

  "David Nesbit," cried Grace, "where have you been all this time? Younever seem to find the time to come near your old friends any more."

  "I have been busy, girls," replied David. "Never busier in my life. ButI believe I've struck it at last. It will not be long, now, before Iturn into a bird."

  "Oh, _do_ show it to us!" cried Grace. "Where is the model?"

  "In my workroom," he replied. "If you are very good, and will promise tosay nothing to the others, I'll give you a peep this afternoon. When Isignal to you from the music room, by sounding three bass notes on thepiano, start upstairs and I'll meet you on the landing. You may ask whythis mystery? But I know girls, and if all those chattering freshmen areallowed to come into my room they are sure to knock over some of themodels, or break something, and I couldn't stand it."

  The three girls entered the large and imposing drawing room whereMiriam, in a beautiful pink mulle, trimmed with filmy lace insertions,received them with unusual cordiality; and presently they all repairedto the dining room where ice cream and strawberries were served withlittle cakes with pink icing. It was, as a matter of fact, a pink tea,and Miriam's cheeks were as pink as her decorations. She lookedparticularly excited and happy. Each of the three chums had justswallowed her last and largest strawberry, saved as a final relish, whenthree low notes sounded softly on the piano in the adjoining room.

  In the hum of conversation nobody had noticed David's signal exceptGrace and her friends, who strolled into the music room where he waswaiting.

  "Come along," he said, leading the way up the back stairs, "and pleaseconsider this as a special mark of attention from the great inventor whohas never yet made anything go. Where's Anne?"

  "I suppose she is resting," answered Grace. "She had just about reachedthe end of her strength to-day."

  "But she'll win the prize, I hope," continued David.

  "We are all sure of it," answered Grace, in emphatic tones.

  David opened the door into his own private quarters, which consisted ofa large workroom with a laboratory attached, where he had once worked onchemical experiments until he had become interested in flying machines.

  "Here they are," he exclaimed, walking over to a large table in theworkroom. "I have three models, you see, and each one works a littlebetter than the other. This last one, I believe, will do the business."He pointed to a graceful little aeroplane made of bamboo sticks and ricepaper.

  "Isn't it sweet?" exclaimed the girls in unison.

  "And it has a name, too," continued David unabashed. "I've called her'Anne,' because, while she's such a small, unpretentious-looking littlecraft, she can soar to such heights. There is not room here to show youhow good she is, but we'll have another gymnasium seance some day soon,Anne must come and see her namesake."

  "There!" cried Grace in a tone of annoyance. "I have jagged a big placein my dress, David Nesbit, on a nail in your table. Why do you have suchthings about to destroy people's clothes?"

  "But nobody who wears dresses ever comes in here," protested David,"except mother and the maid, and they know better than to come near thistable. Can't I do something? Glue it together or mend it with a piece ofsticking plaster?"

  "No, indeed," answered the girl. "Just get me a needle and thread,please. I don't want to go downstairs with such a hideous rent in mydress."

  "Why, of course," assented David. "Why didn't I think of it sooner?Mother will fix you up," and he opened the door into the hall and called"mother!"

  Mrs. Nesbit came hurrying in. She never waited to be called twice by herson, who was the apple of her eye.

  "My dear Grace," she exclaimed when she saw the tear, "this is too bad.Come right into my room and I'll mend it for you."

  So it happened that Grace was presently seated in an armchair in Mrs.Nesbit's bedroom, while the good-natured woman whipped together thejagged edges of the rent.

  "What a beautiful box you have, Mrs. N
esbit," said Grace, pointing to alarge carved box on the dressing table.

  "Do you like it?" replied the other. "I'm fond of it, probably because Iwas so happy when I bought it years ago while traveling abroad with myhusband. It smells as sweet as it did when it was new," she added,placing the box in Grace's lap.

  Nora and Jessica, who had been hovering about the room, now came over tosee the sweet-scented box. How strangely familiar was that pungentperfume which floated up to them. Where had they smelled it before?

  "It is made of carved sandalwood," continued Mrs. Nesbit, opening thelid, "and I have always kept my handkerchiefs in it, you see----"

  "Mother!" called David's voice from the hall, and Mrs. Nesbit left theroom for a moment.

  "Sandalwood!" gasped Grace.

  Yes, it was the same perfume that now faintly scented the famoushandkerchief.

  There was a pile of handkerchiefs in the box. Grace lifted the top oneand sniffed at it. She examined the border carefully and the texture.

  "It looks like stealing," she whispered, "but I must have thishandkerchief. I'll return it afterwards," and she slipped thehandkerchief into her belt.

  Nora and Jessica had exchanged significant glances, while Nora's lipshad formed the words, "exactly like the other one."

  In the meantime Miss Thompson had been closeted with Anne Pierson forhalf an hour in the principal's office. By special request she hadarranged to have Anne's examination papers looked over immediately andsent to her. The papers were therefore the first to receive attentionfrom each teacher, and were then turned over to Miss Thompson, whohurried with them into her office and locked the door behind her.

  "It would be a pity if they were too perfect," she said to herself."That would tell very much against Anne, I fear."

  But, as her eyes ran over them, she shook her head dubiously. They weremarvels of neatness and not one cross or written comment marred theirperfection. At the foot of each sheet the word "perfect" had beenwritten. Some of the teachers had even added notes stating that noerrors of any sort had been found, while one professor had paid Anne thevery high compliment of stating that the perfection of her examinationpapers had not been a surprise. Never in that teacher's experience hadhe taught a more brilliant pupil. Miss Thompson looked with interest atthe algebra papers. If this had not come up, she thought, Miss Leecewould certainly have managed to find a flaw somewhere, even if she hadhad to invent one. But under the circumstances, it was more to that wilywoman's purpose to give Anne her due. For Miss Leece knew that a perfectexamination paper would tell more against the young girl than for her.

  It was after this that Miss Thompson had her talk with Anne, a verykindly, interested talk, in which the young girl's prospects, her workand health had all come under consideration. And then in the gentlestpossible way Miss Thompson had produced the letter.

  "Is this yours, Anne?" she asked.

  Anne started violently.

  "O Miss Thompson," she cried, making a great effort to keep back hertears, "where did you find it? I spent one entire afternoon here lookingfor it. It was the very day you and Miss Leece were here."

  "Oh, you saw us then," replied the principal. "And where were you?"

  "I was outside on the steps," replied Anne. "Didn't Miss Leece mentionit? She looked up and saw me just as you unlocked the door. Then theother door slammed and some one hurried down the passage. I saw her,too, but----"

  "But what, Anne?" asked the principal slowly.

  "But I am not sure who it was."

  "Have you an idea?"

  "I could only guess from the outline of her figure," replied Anne. "Andit wouldn't be fair to tell her name unless I had seen her plainly. Itmight have been some one else."

  Anne had a suspicion that something had happened, and that Miss Thompsonhad brought her here to find out what she knew. But she never dreamedthat she herself was under suspicion.

  One thing had struck Miss Thompson very forcibly. Miss Leece had knownall along that Anne was on the staircase at the very moment the otherperson was slamming the door in their faces. And yet Miss Leece wasdetermined to condemn Anne to the faculty that very night. She had saidso in as many words, in defiance of the principal's arguments againstsuch a course.

  "Well, good night, my child," she said at last, giving Anne a motherlykiss. "You have done a good winter's work and I am proud of you."

  Anne hurried away, clutching the letter in her hand. She wondered ifMiss Thompson had read it, and somehow she didn't mind so much afterall. The principal seemed to her the very embodiment of all that wasgood and kind.

  Miss Thompson was destined to have several callers that afternoon. In afew moments Grace hurried in, breathless and excited.

  "Look at that, Miss Thompson," cried the girl, thrusting a handkerchiefinto her hand. "Look at it and smell it."

  "Well," replied the principal, "I've seen it before and smelled itbefore, too. Only you've had it washed and ironed, haven't you!"

  Grace took a crumpled handkerchief from her pocket.

  "Here's the real one," she cried triumphantly.

  The two handkerchiefs were certainly identical in shape and material andboth were perfumed with sandalwood.

  "Where did you get this one?" demanded the principal.

  "From Mrs. Nesbit's sandalwood handkerchief box," whispered Graceslowly.

  "You think it was then----?"

  "Yes," replied Grace. "I'm certain of it. It's as plain as daylight. Sheborrowed her mother's handkerchief."

  "Dear, dear!" exclaimed the principal. "How very foolish! How veryunnecessary! And all because she couldn't endure to be beaten! Do youknow," she continued presently, "that Miss Leece intends to denounceAnne before the faculty to-night? My authority can't stop her, and Idon't believe the similarity of these two handkerchiefs will either."

  "Miss Thompson," exclaimed Grace, "I tell you I know perfectly well thatwoman is going to try to ruin Anne for the sake of Miriam. I have knownit for months. Why, at Mrs. Gray's Christmas party she did a thing thatis too outrageous to believe," and here Grace opened a bundle she hadbrought with her and produced the marionette of James Pierson.

  Miss Thompson was shocked at the recital of the story. She, too,recognized the green silk tie, although she had no recollection ofMiriam's red velveteen suit, a piece of which formed the waistcoat. Butthere was something about that green silk which stuck in the memory.Probably because it was so ugly, having a semi-invisible yellow linerunning through it.

  "Yes," she said, "I remember it very well. It was the trimming on ablouse Miss Leece wore last autumn. I do not believe anyone could forgetsuch a hideous piece of material."

  Miss Thompson paused a moment and considered.

  "My dear," she continued presently, "I believe this is all I shall needto confront Miss Leece with. Your bringing it to me at this moment showsmost excellent judgment. It may prevent a painful scandal in the school,as well as saving Anne from disgrace. As for the two handkerchiefs, theevidence is too slight to make any open accusations; but at any rate youmay leave both with me. I may need them in my interview with Miss Leece.I may as well tell you I am anticipating a pretty stiff battle with her.I don't believe I should have won with only the handkerchiefs."

  "Oh, I hope we can save Anne, Miss Thompson," cried Grace.

  "I earnestly hope so, too," replied the principal. "It would be tooheart breaking to have the child go down under this false accusation;and aside from that, such scandals are bad for the school and I wouldrather deal with them privately than have them made public. But runalong now, dear. You have done nobly and deserve a prize yourself."

  A knock was heard, and as Grace departed through one door Miss Leeceopened the other.

  "If Miss Thompson only wins this battle!" the young girl exclaimed toherself. "I want to believe she will, but I know that terrible MissLeece will make a tremendous fight."

  She joined her friends, who were waiting for her outside.

  "Girls," she cried, "pray for Anne to-nig
ht!"

  Nora, good little Catholic that she was, went straight to her church andburned two candles before the altar of the Holy Virgin, while sheoffered up a humble petition for Anne's deliverance; while Grace andJessica, in their own bedrooms, that night prayed reverently andearnestly that Anne might be saved from her enemies. Thus were Anne'sthree devoted friends working and praying for her while she slept thesleep of exhaustion.