Betty Wales, Senior

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  CHAPTER IX

  A WEDDING AND A VISIT TO BOHEMIA

  Betty and Madeline went to their class meeting on the followingafternoon very much as a trembling freshman goes to her first midyears,but nothing disastrous happened.

  "I fancy that Jean has taken more than Eleanor and me into herconfidence," Madeline whispered. Besides, the Blunderbuss was in herplace, her placid but unyielding presence offering an effectual reminderto the girls who had been admiring Eleanor's executive ability andresourcefulness that it would be safer not to mention her name inconnection with the play committee.

  But before that was elected the preliminary committee, which, to quoteKatherine Kittredge, had been hunting down the masterpieces of WillyShakespeare ever since the middle of junior year, made its report. Themembers had not been able to agree unanimously on a play, so thechairman read the majority's opinion, in favor of "As You Like It," andthen Katherine Kittredge explained the position of the minority, whowanted to be very ambitious indeed and try "The Merchant of Venice."There was a spirited debate between the two sets of partisans, afterwhich, to Katherine's infinite satisfaction, 19-- voted to give "TheMerchant of Venice" at its commencement.

  Then the committee to manage the play was chosen, and Betty Wales wasthe only person who was much surprised when she was unanimously electedto the post of costume member.

  "I on that committee!" she exclaimed in dismay. "Why, I don't knowanything about Shakespeare."

  "You will before you get through with this business," laughed BarbaraGordon, who had been made chairman. "The course begins to-morrow at twoin my room. No cuts allowed."

  "I DO CARE ABOUT HAVING FRIENDS LIKE YOU," SHE SAID.]

  Betty's pleasure in this unexpected honor was rather dampened by thefact that Jean Eastman had proposed her name, making it seem almost asif she were taking sides with Eleanor's enemies. But Madeline onlylaughed at what she called Jean's neat little scheme for getting thelast word.

  "Ruth Ford was all ready to nominate you," she said, "but Jean dashed inahead of her. She wanted to assure me that I hadn't silenced her forlong."

  So Betty gave herself up to the happy feeling of having shown herselfworthy to be trusted with part of 19--'s most momentous undertaking.

  "I must write Nan to-night," she said, "but I don't think I shallmention the costume part. She would think I was just as frivolous asever, and Barbara says that all the committee are expected to help withthings in general."

  Whereupon she remembered her tea-drinking, and hurried home to find mostof the guests already assembled, and Eleanor, who had not gone to theclass meeting but who had heard all about it from the others, waiting onthe stairs to congratulate her.

  "I don't care half as much about being on the committee as I do abouthaving friends like you to say they're glad," declared Betty, huggingEleanor because there were a great many things that she didn't know howto say to her.

  "Yes, friends are what count," said Eleanor earnestly, "and Betty, Ithink I'm going to leave Harding with a good many. At least I've madesome new ones this week."

  And that was all the reference that was ever made to the way Eleanor'soldest friend at Harding had treated her.

  "Well," said Betty, when everybody had congratulated her and Rachel,whose appointment on all 19--'s important committees had come to be aforegone conclusion, "I hope Nita and Rachel and K. won't be sorry theycame. You three aren't so much mixed up in it as the rest of us, but Ithought I'd ask you anyway."

  "Do you mean that I can't have my usual three slices of lemon?" demandedKatherine indignantly.

  "Hush, material-minded one," admonished Nita. "There's more than tea andlemon in this. There's a great secret. Of course we shall be interestedin it. Fire away, Betty."

  "And everybody stop watching the kettle," commanded Babbie, who hadtaken it in charge, "and then perhaps it will begin to boil."

  "What I wanted to tell you," began Betty, impressively, "is that MissHale is going to be married this vacation."

  "Good for Miss Hale!" cried Bob, throwing up a pillow. "Did her sisterget well?"

  "Yes," said Betty. "She was dreadfully ill all summer, and then she hadto go away for a change. Ethel wanted to wait until she was perfectlystrong, because she had looked forward so to being maid-of-honor."

  "I think we ought to send Miss Hale a present," said Babe, decisively."Madame President, please instruct the secretary---- Why, we haven't anypresident now," ended Babe in dismay.

  "Let's elect Betty," suggested Nita.

  "She's too young for such a responsible position," objected Bob. "It'sonly the dramatics committee that takes infants."

  "And besides, her hair curls," added Madeline, reaching out to pull oneof the offending ringlets. "Curly-haired people don't deserve to beelected to offices."

  "Let's have Babe," suggested Rachel.

  "She's older than her name, her hair has always been straight----"

  "Except once," put in Katherine, and everybody shrieked with laughter atthe recollection of Babe's one disastrous experience with a marcellewave.

  "And then she looked like a wild woman of Borneo," went on Rachel, "soit shouldn't count against her. Furthermore this society was organizedto give her a chance."

  "All right," agreed Nita. "I withdraw my nomination. Babe, you'reelected. Instruct the secretary to cast a unanimous ballot foryourself."

  "Very well," said Babe with much dignity. "Please do it, Madeline, andthen I appoint you and Betty and Eleanor to choose a present for MissHale. I was just going to say, when I interrupted myself to remark uponthe extraordinary absence of a presiding officer"--Babe coughed anddropped her presidential manner abruptly--"I was going to say that I'mall for a stuffed turtle, like those we got in Nassau. I think a rippingbig one would be the very thing."

  "Babe!" said Babbie scornfully. "Imagine how a turtle would look amongher wedding presents."

  "I think it would look stunning," persisted Babe, "and it would be soappropriate from us."

  "Don't be dictatorial, Babe," advised Rachel. "It isn't seemly in apresident. Perhaps your committee can think of something appropriatethat won't be quite so startling as a turtle. When is the wedding,Betty?"

  "The thirty-first of December at half-past eight," explained Betty.

  "New Year's eve--what a nice, poetical time," interposed Babbie,thoughtfully. "I think that if I ever marry----"

  "Hush, Babbie," commanded Nita. "You probably never will. Do let Bettyfinish her story."

  "Well, it's to be a very small wedding," went on Betty, hastily, "withno cards, but announcements, but Ethel wrote me herself and she wants usall--the Nassau ones, I mean--and Mary Brooks, to come."

  "Jolly for Miss Hale!" cried Bob, tossing up two pillows this time.

  "How perfectly dear of her!" said Babbie.

  "The biggest turtle we can get won't be a bit too good for her,"declared Babe.

  "But where could we stay over night?" asked Helen, the practical-minded.

  "You don't give me a chance to tell you the whole of anything,"complained Betty, sadly. "We're invited guests--specially invited, Imean, and it's all arranged where we are to stay. Ethel is going to haveher sister and four bridesmaids to walk with her, and she wants us girlsto hold a laurel rope along the line of march of the wedding-party, asthey go through the rooms."

  "Jolly," began Babe, but she was promptly suppressed by Madeline, whotumbled her flat on her back and held her down with a pillow while sheordered Betty to proceed.

  "I'll read you what else she says," went on Betty, triumphantlyproducing Miss Hale's letter. "She says, 'There won't be many people toget in the way of the procession, but the aisle effect will be pretty,and besides I want my match-makers to have a part in the granddenouement of all their efforts. Will you ask the others and write MaryBrooks, whose address I don't know. My uncle's big house next door tous will have room for you all, and you must come in time for mybridesmaids' luncheon and a little dance, both on the thirtieth.' Nowisn't that splendid?"r />
  "Perfectly splendid," echoed her auditors.

  "Why, we shall be almost bridesmaids," said Roberta Lewis in awestrucktones. "Does Mary know?"

  Betty nodded. "She hasn't had time to answer yet, but she can certainlygo, as she lives so near Ethel."

  "The only difficulty about our going," said Babe, "is what to do withthe few days between the wedding and the opening of college."

  "And that's easily settled," said Madeline promptly. "Miss Hale livesjust out of New York, doesn't she? Well, you are all to come and stay inthe flat with me. Hasn't it just been beautifully cleaned? And aren'tyou all longing for a glimpse of Bohemia?"

  That was the climax of the tea drinking. The Merry Match-Makers spentthe evening writing home to their parents for permission to go to thewedding and considering momentous problems of dress. For Roberta's bestevening-gown was lavender and Babbie's was pink, and the question washow to distribute Betty, Babe and Helen in white, Bob in blue, Eleanorin her favorite yellow, Madeline in ecru, and Mary in any one of abewildering number of possible toilettes, so as to justify Ethel's hopethat the aisle would be ornamental as well as useful.

  How the days flew after that! For besides the wedding there were theluncheon and the dance to anticipate and plan for, as well as theunknown joys of Bohemia, New York, not to mention the regular excitementof going home, the fun of tucking Christmas presents into the corners ofhalf-packed trunks, and the terrors of the written lesson that someinhuman member of the faculty always saves for the crowded last week ofthe term.

  On the afternoon of the twenty-ninth the Merry Match-Makers met in NewYork. Babbie had sent a sad little note to Miss Hale and a tearful oneto Betty to say that her mother, who was a good deal of an invalid, had"looked pretty blue over my running off early, and so of course I won'tleave her;" and Helen Adams had decided that considering all the extraexpenses of senior year she couldn't afford the trip to New York. Sothere were only seven "almost bridesmaids," as Roberta called them, or"posts," which was Bob's name for them, to fall upon one another as ifthey had been separated for years, instead of a week, say thank you forthe presents that were each "just what I wanted," and exclaim excitedlyover Betty's new suit, Mary's fur coat, and the sole-leather kit-bagthat Santa Claus had brought Roberta.

  "It's queer," said Bob. "I feel as if I'd had one whole vacationalready, and ought to be unpacking and digging on psychology 6 andhistory 10. Whereas in reality I'm just beginning on another wholevacation. It's like having two Thanksgiving dinners in one year."

  "Not quite like that, I hope," laughed Eleanor, as they started off toinspect the wedding present, a beautiful pair of tall silvercandlesticks. Madeline had ransacked New York to find them, and everyone but Babe, who clung to her turtle as far superior to any "musty oldantiques," thought them just odd and distinctive enough to pleaseEthel's fastidious taste. And after that there was barely time to catchthe train they had arranged to take out to Ethel's home.

  Interest in the bride and in their own part of the wedding ceremony hadcaused the "Merry Hearts" to forget Dr. Eaton, and they had never onceconsidered that of course his college chum, John Alison, would leave therailroad he was building in Arizona and come east to be Dr. Eaton's bestman. And it was Mr. John Alison who had "finished" Georgia Ames. Heinquired for her at once and so did his brother Tom, who was an usher,and who explained that he had been invited to keep John in order, and tointercede for him with the "posts."

  "And in return for my services as peacemaker," he said solemnly, "Iexpect to be treated with special consideration by everybody."Subsequent events seemed to show that the special consideration referredto meant a chance to see as much as possible of Betty Wales.

  Even more surprising to three of the posts was the presence of Mr.Richard Blake in the wedding-party--Richard Blake, editor of "TheQuiver," and one-time lecturer at Harding on the tendencies of moderndrama.

  Eleanor's face was a study when she recognized him, but before Miss Halecould begin any introductions Madeline greeted him enthusiastically andgot him into a corner, where they exchanged low-toned confidences for amoment.

  "I'm particularly glad to meet you again, Miss Watson," he said in atone of unmistakable sincerity, when he was presented. "We had a jollydinner together once, didn't we?"

  "Dick's such an old dear," Madeline whispered to Betty half an hourlater. "He confided to me just now that the first evening he saw Eleanorhe thought her the most fascinating girl he had ever met, and then hehastened to assure me that that had absolutely nothing to do with hisdeciding to keep dark about her story. I don't doubt him for amoment--Dick perfectly detests cheating. But he can't make me believethat he's being nice to her now just on my account."

  There were plenty of other men at the wedding. "We're the only girls inthe whole family," Charlotte, Ethel's younger sister explained, "and wehave thirty own cousins, most of them grown-up."

  "Was that one of the thirty that you were sitting on the stairs with atthe dance?" inquired Mary Brooks sweetly.

  Charlotte blushed and Bob flew to her rescue. "We all know why Maryisn't monopolizing any one," she said. "Are you taking notes for futureuse, Mary?"

  Mary shrugged her shoulders loftily. "I scorn to answer such nonsense,"she retorted. "I'm going to be an old maid and make matches for all myfriends."

  "We'll come and be posts for you any time after commencement," Babeassured her amiably. "Did you know, girls, that Mary can't stay overwith Madeline because her mother is giving a New Year's dinner-party.Who do you suppose will be there?"

  The wedding festivities were over at last. "It was all perfectlyscrumptious," Babe wrote Babbie enthusiastically, "and I'm bringing youa little white satin slipper like those we had filled with puffed ricefor luncheon favors, and a lovely pin that Miss Hale wants you to havejust as if you had come. The nicest thing of all is that vacation isn'tover yet. Is it two weeks or two years since I saw you?"

  And next came Bohemia. Before they had quite reached Washington SquareMadeline tumbled her guests hastily off their car.

  "I forgot to tell Mrs. McLean when to expect us," she explained. "She isour cook. So we'll hunt her up now and we might as well buy the luncheonas we go along."

  So first they found Mrs. McLean, a placid old Scotch woman who was notat all surprised when Madeline announced that she was giving ahouse-party for five and had forgotten to mention it sooner. She had adelicious Scotch burr and an irresistible way of standing in thedining-room door and saying, "Come awa', my dears," when she had serveda meal. Like everything else connected with the Ayres establishment, shewas always there when you wanted her; between times she disappearedmysteriously, leaving the kitchen quite clear for Madeline and herguests, and always turning up in time to wash the fudge-pan or thechafing-dishes.

  From Mrs. McLean's they went down a dirty, narrow street, stopping at anumber of funny, foreign-looking fruit and grocery shops, where theybought whatever anybody wanted.

  "Though it doesn't matter what you have to eat," said Roberta later,pouring cream into her coffee from an adorable little Spanish jug, "aslong as you have it on this lovely old china."

  They had their coffee in the studio, sitting around the open fire, andwhile they were drinking it people began to drop in--Mr. Blake, whoroomed just across the Square, a pretty, pale girl, who was evidently anartist because every one congratulated her on having some things "on theline" somewhere, three newspaper men from the flat above, who being on amorning daily had just gotten up and stopped in to say "Happy New Year"on their way down to Park Row, and a jolly little woman whom the otherscalled Mrs. Bob.

  "She's promised to chaperon us," Madeline explained to her guests. "Shelives down-stairs, so we can't go in or out without falling into herterrible clutches."

  Mrs. Bob, who was in a corner playing with the little black kitten thatseemed to belong with the house, like Mrs. McLean, stopped long enoughto ask if they had heard about the theatre party. They had not, so Mr.Blake explained that by a sudden change of bill at one of the t
heatresMr. Sothern and Miss Marlowe were to give "The Merchant of Venice" thatevening.

  "And I understand from Miss Watson that you people are particularlyinterested in that play," he added, "so I've corraled some tickets andMrs. Bob and a bunch of men."

  "And the Carletons will have an early dinner," put in Mrs. Bob. "Oh, Iforgot. You don't know about that either. Mrs. Carleton won't be backfrom the country until four o'clock, so she asked me to give you theinvitation to have New Year's dinner with them."

  "But did she know there were six of us?" asked Betty anxiously,whereupon everybody laughed and Mrs. Bob assured her that Mrs. Carletonhad mentioned seven to her, and hadn't seemed in the least worried.

  That was the way things went all through their visit. Mrs. Bob tookthem shopping, with frequent intermissions for cakes and tea at queerlittle tea-rooms, with alluring names like "The London Muffin Room," orthe "Yellow Tea-Pot." Her husband escorted them to the east-sidebrass-shops, assuring them solemnly that it wasn't everybody he showedhis best finds to, and mourning when their rapturous enthusiasmprevented his getting them a real bargain. The newspaper men gave a"breakfast-luncheon" for them--breakfast for themselves, and luncheonfor their guests--which was so successful that it was continued thatsame evening by a visit to a Russian puppet-show and supper in a Chineserestaurant. The pretty artist sold one of her pictures and invited themto help her celebrate, just as if they were old friends, who knew howhard she had struggled and how often she hadn't had money enough to buyherself bread and butter, to say nothing of offering jam--in the shapeof oysters on the half-shell and lobster Newburg--to other people.

  It was all so gay and light-hearted and unexpected--the way thingshappened in Bohemia. Nobody hurried or worried, though everybody workedhard. It was just as Madeline had told them, only more so. The girlssaid a sorrowful good-bye to Mrs. Bob, Mrs. McLean and the little blackkitten and journeyed back to Harding sure that there never had been andnever would be another such vacation for them.

  "How can there be?" said Bob dejectedly. "At Easter we shall all have toget clothes, and after that we shan't know a vacation from mid-yearweek."

  "Which delightful function begins in exactly fourteen days," saidKatherine Kittredge. "Is there anybody here present whose notes on Hegelhave the appearance of making sense?"

  19-- took its senior midyears gaily and quite as a matter of course,lectured its underclass friends on the evils of cramming, and kept upits spirits by going coasting with Billy Henderson, ProfessorHenderson's ten-year-old son, who had admired college girls ever sincehe found that Bob Parker could beat him at steering a double-runner.Between times they bought up the town's supply of "The Merchant ofVenice,"--"not to learn any part, you know, but because we'reinterested in our play," each purchaser explained to her friends.

  For there is no use in proclaiming your aspirations to be a Portia or aShylock until you are sure that your dramatic talent is going to beappreciated. Of course there were exceptions to this rule, but the girlwho said at a campus dinner-table, "If I am Portia, who is there tallenough for Bassanio?" became a college proverb in favor of keeping yourhopes to yourself, and everybody was secretly delighted when she decidedthat she "really didn't care" to be in the mob.