Peggy Raymond's Way; Or, Blossom Time at Friendly Terrace

by Harriet L. Smith

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE END OF SCHOOL LIFE

  THE senior banquet was the most intimate and, in the opinion of many,the most delightful festivity of Commencement. No guests were invited.The only member of the faculty present was the honorary member ofthe class, a charming woman, who taught Greek and talked slang--asan antidote, she was wont to say. And because it was so strictly aclass affair, a great deal of fun was in order which would have beenimpossible before ever so limited an audience.

  "What I like about it is that it's frankly selfish," Peggy toldPriscilla. And then noticing Priscilla's expression of incredulity, "Idon't mean selfish in the mean sense, just the nice, comfortable, homeysort. All the rest of Commencement we're thinking about other people,the Board of Trustees, and the fathers and mothers, and the audienceand the public. It's a comfort that there's one thing where we don'thave to think of any one but ourselves, and we can be as silly as weplease."

  The first class to graduate had established a precedent which everysucceeding class had strictly followed, that all engagements wereto be announced at the class banquet, Commencement week. If for anyreason it was preferred that such announcements should be regardedas confidential, it was understood that the members of the classwould be put to torture rather than reveal a word. So strictly had afew such items of news been guarded--in some instances for severalyears--that the ability of a woman to keep a secret had apparently beensatisfactorily demonstrated by the graduates of Peggy's alma mater. Asa rule, however, the graduate who announced her engagement at the classbanquet was willing that all the world should know the joyful news.

  The banquet was held in the college gymnasium, the long tables beingarranged in a hollow square. After the feasting was over, the waiterswere dismissed and the doors closed to ensure perfect secrecy,--afterwhich every girl engaged in the class was expected to take her standin the central enclosure, carrying with her a photograph of her fiance,the back of the said photograph being duly inscribed with her name andhis. And as if this were not enough, each was required to state in afew well-chosen words the qualities which differentiated her particularyoung man from all the rest of mankind. At the conclusion of thisunique ceremony, the photographs were passed about and duly inspected,and then a vote was taken to determine the handsomest. The gentleman sohonored was presented with a stick-pin, which his betrothed took chargeof until such time as she chose to deliver it.

  As the girls dispatched their deviled crabs and chicken salad and icecream, and other incongruous and indigestible dainties, the thoughtsof many turned expectantly toward the ceremony immediately followingthe banquet. It was true that some of the engagements were no secret.Graham Wylie, for instance, had been Peggy Raymond's devoted cavalierever since she graduated from high school. And there were girls in thedormitories who heard so frequently and at such length from certainmen friends that they were assumed to be engaged whether they admittedit or not. But on the other hand there were always surprises enough torender the occasion exciting.

  The ice cream was dispatched at last, along with the cakes and candies.The little coffee cups were emptied. The waiters cleared the tables andwithdrew, closing the door according to instructions. And then fromhere and there in the long rows of diners, one laughing girl afteranother rose, and made her way into the vacant space enclosed by thetables.

  Priscilla's eye followed Peggy on her way, blushing, laughing, andlooking to Priscilla's fond eyes the embodiment of girlish loveliness.And then some one called her name. "Why, Priscilla Combs!"

  Priscilla turned. A classmate that she knew only slightly was leaningacross the table. "Why aren't you going with the others?" she cried.

  "I?" Priscilla colored to the roots of her hair. "I'm not eligible."

  "Oh, come!" retorted the other archly. "This isn't any time forprevarication, you know. You're expected to tell the truth."

  Some one caught the speaker by the arm, and as she turned, hissed aterse statement in her ear. Only too well did Priscilla know the importof that whisper. Inaudible as it was, its news might as well have beenshouted. The girl who had innocently assumed Priscilla's engagementwas now hearing that Horace Hitchcock, after paying Priscilla everyattention, had met some one he liked better in New York, and hadmarried her after three days' acquaintance.

  Priscilla held her head high. She saw her _vis-a-vis_ change color andlift startled eyes. When she found Priscilla regarding her, the girllost her head. "Oh, excuse me," she gasped.

  "Why certainly," laughed Priscilla. "I'm like the man who was asked tochange a twenty-dollar bill. I appreciate the compliment." But for allher cheerful air, the thing rankled. Would they never be done pityingher because she had been jilted by Horace Hitchcock. It was impossibleto explain, but it really seemed to Priscilla that some of them mightsuspect what a relief the termination of that unacknowledged engagementhad been.

  There were now a dozen girls in the enclosure. The appearance ofsome was greeted with loud cries, intended to convey reproach, orincredulity. Excited comments ran around the tables. "Look, there'sCynthia, after insisting that there wasn't a thing between them." "Why,there's Anne Gordon." "Now who in the world--" And while the eagerinspection went on, the twelve girls in the middle stood rather closetogether as if each found it a help in that trying moment to feel shewas not alone.

  The talk and laughter quieted when the president rapped for order.Eloise Hayden was the first to be called on to introduce her fianceto her attentive classmates. Eloise was one of the girls who affectthe modern pose of matter-of-factness. She was so afraid of unduesentimentality that she went too far in the other direction, like onewho is so determined to be straight as to bend backward. As Eloise'sname was spoken, she stepped out from the group, and held up to viewthe photograph she carried.

  "Friends and classmates, I am introducing John Mackenzie Rowe. As yousee, he is no beauty, and he'll never wear the stick pin unless it'sgiven for a consolation prize. But on the other hand, he isn't badlooking enough so he needs to wear a mask when he goes on the street."

  The momentary silence as Eloise stopped for breath was filled by achorus of groans, Eloise's classmates disapproving her extreme lack ofsentiment. Quite unabashed by this demonstration, Eloise continued.

  "John and I live in the country, as some of you know. The only thingbetween his father's place and my father's place is a privet hedge, nothigh enough to be a barrier. We've lived on the two sides of that hedgesince he was thirteen and I eleven. I suppose if any other boy hadlived there, I should now be engaged to him. And if any other girl hadlived where I do, he would have been engaged to her."

  The signs of displeasure redoubled. Mingled with the groans werehisses, and Eloise, who liked nothing better than to stir her friendsto protest against her nonchalant attitude, continued blithely:

  "Our engagement is in every way a sensible one. Neither of us thinksthe other perfect, so we won't have the usual disillusionment anddisappointment after we are married. I'm sorry I shan't be able tointroduce John to you to-morrow, but he wrote me that if he came hewould have to put off a business trip, and I wrote him, 'Businessfirst.'"

  The demonstrations of disapproval were now so marked that Eloiseconsidered this a good place to stop. She laid down the photograph forthe girls' inspection and stepped back, seemingly very well satisfiedwith her performance.

  Judith West, a plump pink and white girl, looking, thanks to her bobbedhair and round face, not a day over fifteen, was next to be called on.Judith blushed rosily as she held up the photograph of a handsome youngman in a lieutenant's uniform.

  "This is Philip Carpenter," she announced in a faint, frightened voice."And all I can say is that he's as good as he looks."

  "He looks good enough to eat," encouraged an admiring voice from aside-table.

  "He is," declared Judith. "At least--well, you know what I mean. He'sjust as nice as he can be, and after I'd seen him once, nobody else inthe world had the least chance."

  As this impressed the class as the proper at
titude for an engaged girl,the applause was hearty, and the blushing Judith interpreted it asa _finish_ to her remarks, and retreated in charming confusion. Butthe applause dropped into instantaneous silence as Anne Gordon arose.Anne's appearance in the enclosure had surprised every one.

  "I haven't much of a photograph to show you," said Anne holding up akodak picture in which three diminutive figures appeared seated underan apple tree. "The one in the middle is Elmer Wharton. He looks verytiny, but believe me, he's longer than our engagement."

  Anne stopped to laugh, and the class laughed with her.

  "I had a letter from Elmer yesterday," Anne continued, "a veryparticular letter. I can't say it was a great surprise to me, thoughyou all seem so astonished. And in this letter Elmer told me a numberof things he meant to say to me as soon as I got home. But I thought ofto-night, and I couldn't see why I shouldn't be engaged the day beforeCommencement as well as the day after. So I telegraphed him, _yes_."

  Amid the shrieks of laughter due to this frank acknowledgment, Peggywas called, and she held up her photograph with an engaging pride.

  "I fancy there aren't many of you who need to be introduced to GrahamWylie, for he's been very much in evidence ever since I enteredcollege. I don't know any way of doing justice to the subject, but whenI feel strongly about anything, I'm very likely to drop into poetry,like Mr. Wegg."

  Peggy, who had been brought up on Dickens as if she had been a girl ofthe fifties, had forgotten how few of her contemporaries had ever heardof Mr. Wegg. Warned of her slip by the blank faces that looked back ather, she began to recite the lines she had written in sheer desperationthe previous evening, after she was supposed to be in bed.

  "It isn't because he's six feet two With shoulders to match his height, That I'm happy and proud to be facing you On this very eventful night.

  "It isn't because his face is fine, Clear-cut, like a cameo, That I value the right to call him mine More than any one here can know.

  "It isn't because he's so very wise; We both could improve right there. His faults are plain to the kindest eyes, And I know that I have my share.

  "He's not perfection--to hint at this Would waken his scornful mirth. And yet he has made me--just as he is-- The happiest girl on earth.

  "I know he is built of the sterling stuff Of which manly men are made. And that glad certainty is enough To render me unafraid.

  "As we scatter to go our devious ways Like sparks from the anvil hurled, I want you to think of me all your days, As the proudest girl in the world."

  The applause that greeted Peggy's effort was not due chiefly to thequality of her verses, nor even to the charm of her undisguisedhappiness. The Editorial Staff of the Annual had leaked out. It hadbeen whispered about that if it had not been for Peggy's protests, theAnnual would have contained a satirical attack on a stricken man, whichwould have rendered its circulation impossible. The clapping died down,and then broke out again, as if to emphasize the fact that it was apersonal tribute.

  And so one after another, the girls in the enclosure introduced thepossessors of the names they themselves would some day bear, and havingfinished, went laughing back to their seats. The photographs werepassed about for examination and the ballots distributed. The votingwas a somewhat protracted process due, doubtless, to the fact that somuch was at stake. But in course of time the ballots were collected andthe judges retired to count them, the girls filling in the intervalwith college songs.

  The announcement of the result of the balloting came as a greatsurprise to Peggy. For the recipient of the stick pin was not Grahambut Philip Carpenter. Judith, blushing very prettily, made the speechof acceptance in behalf of her fiance, and took the pin.

  "I wish to say to you all," said the class president, "that twenty-fivedollars is deposited with the treasurer for the purchase of awedding-present for the first of our number to marry. I can only sayit can't be spent too soon to suit me. It's time," she added severely,"that somebody was disproving the slander that college women care onlyfor civic reform and settlement work and teaching school, and that homeand husbands don't matter to them at all."

  Priscilla glanced discreetly in Peggy's direction, but Peggy waslooking at the table. Indeed her expression remained thoughtful tillthe first toast was given, and she stood with the others to drink toher alma mater in a draught of fruit punch.

  It was not till they were on their way home that Priscilla discoveredthe reason for Peggy's temporary abstraction. For while they weretalking of something entirely different, Peggy suddenly exclaimed, "Doyou suppose it was the uniform that dazzled them?"

  "I don't quite understand you, Peggy."

  "Why, that vote, you know. Of course Judith's lieutenant is a very goodlooking fellow, but the idea of comparing him to Graham."

  Priscilla looked at her friend askance and said nothing.

  "I have a photograph of Graham in uniform," Peggy continued, "and now Iwish I'd brought that. But I hadn't any idea it would count so much."

  "Peggy," began Priscilla faintly. "Will you promise not to be angry ifI tell you something?"

  "Of course. Why should I be angry?"

  "Well, then, I voted for Philip Carpenter."

  Peggy looked at her in seemingly speechless amazement. "But why?" sheasked at last.

  "Because--well, there could be only one reason for that, Peggy, becauseI thought him the handsomest man in the collection. His nose iswonderful."

  "And so is Graham's. I never saw a more perfect nose."

  "Philip's eyes are so big and beautiful."

  "A little _too_ big, it seems to me. It gives him a rather girly look.Now Graham's eyes are just large enough."

  Priscilla burst into an irrepressible shriek of laughter. "I wonderif it ever occurred to you, Peggy, that you might be a little bitprejudiced."

  It was plain that such an idea had never occurred to Peggy. She lookedblank for a moment and then joined in Priscilla's helpless laughter."I suppose," she owned when again she could find her voice, "that it'sjust as well that tastes differ."

  They parted at Priscilla's door, kissing each other good-night, asomewhat unusual ceremony, far they were not girls who made a parade ofaffection. Peggy, who had started toward her own home, suddenly turnedback as if she had forgotten something. Priscilla hurried down thesteps to meet her.

  "Priscilla, do you realize that to-morrow is Commencement Day? What alittle time it seems since we entered as Freshman. Don't you rememberhow scared we were, and how in awe of the Seniors? And now, Priscillaour school life is over."

  And much to Priscilla's astonishment, and even more to her own, Peggyburst into tears.