The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers

by Hildegard G. Frey

  CHAPTER VI.

  GLADYS UPHOLDS THE FAMILY CREDIT.

  Mrs. Evans confided her plans for a Christmas week party to Gladys theday following the snow frolic, and Gladys was delighted with the idea.She dearly loved to entertain her friends. The frock was ordered fromNew York and Mrs. Evans and Gladys spent long hours working out thedetails of the affair. Rumors of the party and the dress Gladys was tohave leaked out to the Winnebagos and from them to the whole class.Every one was on tiptoe to find out who would be invited. Mrs. Davis andMrs. Jones, hearing the talk about the coming function, began to wonderif they were on the right track after all in regard to the Evansfortune. Two weeks before Christmas the invitations came out.Twenty-five girls and twenty-five boys, mostly from the high schoolclass, were asked. What a flutter of satisfaction there was among thosewho had been invited, and what a disappointment among those who had notbeen, and what consultations about dresses among the favored ones!

  This question was an acute one with Migwan. She had not had a new partydress for several years, and in the present state of their finances shecould not get one now. She looked at the old one, faded and spotted, andshook her head despairingly. "I foresee where Miss Migwan develops asudden illness on the night of the party," she said with tight lips,"unless I hear from my story in time." As if in answer to her thoughtsthe story came back the very next day. There was no letter from theeditor concerning the merits or faults of the piece, only a printedrejection slip, but that stated that only typewritten manuscripts wouldbe considered. Migwan's air castle tumbled about her ears. She had notypewriter and knew no one who had. Her experience did not include aknowledge of public stenographers, and even if she had thought of thatway out the expense would have prevented her from having her storycopied. Her dream of fame and wealth was short-lived, and the world wasstale, flat and unprofitable. The house was not yet rented, as therepairs had been delayed again and again. It would be another month atleast before that would be a paying proposition. Hearing the other girlstalk about Gladys's party all the time filled her with desperation. Shebegan to shun the Winnebagos. The keen zest went out of her studying andeven her beloved Latin lost its savor.

  Nyoda finally noticed it. Migwan failed to recite in English class fortwo days in succession, which was an unheard-of thing. Nyoda thoughtthat Migwan had her head so full of the coming party that she wasneglecting her lessons, and said so, half banteringly, as Migwanlingered after class to pick up some papers she had dropped on thefloor. That was the last straw, and Migwan burst into tears. Nyoda wasall sympathy in a moment. Now Nyoda happened to have the "seeing eye,"with which some people are blessed, and had surmised, from certainlittle signs she had observed, that Migwan had written something orother, and sent it away to a magazine. She knew only too well what theoutcome would be, and her heart ached when she thought of Migwan'scoming disappointment. Therefore, when Migwan, quickly recovering hercomposure, said calmly, "It's nothing, Nyoda; I simply tried to dosomething and failed," Nyoda asked quietly, "Did your story come back?"

  Migwan looked at her in amazement. "How did you know I had written anystory?" she asked.

  "Oh, a little bird told me," replied Nyoda lightly. "Cheer up. All thefamous authors had their first work rejected. You have achieved thefirst mark of fame." Migwan smiled wanly. Her tragedies always seemed tolose their sting in the light of Nyoda's optimism. She told her aboutthe necessity for a typewriter. "I could have told you that to beginwith, if you had asked my humble advice," replied Nyoda. "But if amiserable writing machine is all that stands between you and fame andfortune, your fortune is already made. The woman whose rooms I am livingin has one in her possession. It belongs to her son, I believe, but ashe is at present in China there is no danger of his wanting it for sometime. She has offered to let me use it on several occasions, and I don'tdoubt but what we can make some arrangement to accommodate you."

  The world seemed a pretty good place of habitation after all to Migwanthat day when she went home from school, in spite of the fact that shehad no dress to wear to the party. The situation began to appear faintlyhumorous to her. Here was all the interest centered on what Gladys wasgoing to wear, when all the time the real, vital question was what _she_was going to wear! What a commotion there would be if the otherWinnebagos knew the truth! Her thoughts began to beat themselves, intorhythm as she walked home through the crunching snow:

  "Broke, broke, broke, And such clothes in the windows I see! And I would that my purse could answer The demands that are made on she!

  "O well for the millionaire's wife, Who can pay eighty bones for a shawl, And well for the African maids, Who don't need any clothes at all!

  "And the pennies, they all go To the grocer, and so do the dimes, But, O, for the little crepe meteor dress I saw down in Oppenheim's!

  "Broke, broke, broke, And such styles in the windows I see! What would I not give for the rest of the month For the salary of John D!"

  "Would you just as soon run up to the attic and get the blanket sheetsout of the trunk?" asked her mother when she had finished her dinner. "Iwas cold in bed last night." Migwan went up promptly. She found thesheets and laid them out, and was then seized with a desire to rummageamong the things in the trunk. She pawed over old valentines, bonnets ofa by-gone day, lace mitts, and all the useless relics that are usuallyfound in mother's trunk that had been _her_ mother's. Down at thebottom, however, there was a paper package of considerable size. Migwanopened it carefully and brought to view a dress made of white brocadedsatin, yellowed with age. A sudden inspiration struck her, and, layingit carefully on top of the blankets, she ran downstairs to her mother."What is this dress?" she asked eagerly.

  Mrs. Gardiner's face lighted tenderly when she saw it. "Why, that's mywedding dress," she said.

  "Oh," said Migwan in a disappointed tone, laying the dress down.

  "What did you want with it?" asked her mother.

  "Why, I thought if it was just a dress," replied Migwan, "I could makeit over to wear to Gladys's party, but of course if it is your weddingdress you wouldn't care to have it changed."

  "I don't see why not," said Mrs. Gardiner. "It's no good as it is. I'venever had it on since my wedding day. The material in that dress costtwo dollars a yard and is better than what you get at that pricenowadays." A sudden recollection illumined her face. "The night of theparty is my wedding anniversary," she said. "There couldn't be a betteroccasion to wear it!"

  "Would you really be willing to have me cut it up?" asked Migwanrapturously clasping her hands. That afternoon her head really was sofull of party plans that she forgot to get her lessons. The dress waslaid out on the dining room table and examined as to its possibilities."I don't know but what it would be best to dye it some pretty shade ofgreen or blue," said Mrs. Gardiner, after thinking the matter over. "Itis too yellow to use as it is, and there is no time to bleach itproperly." So it was ripped up and dyed Nile green, a shade which wasparticularly becoming to Migwan. There was enough goods in the train tomake the entire dress, so there was no need to do any piecing.

  Instead of avoiding the subject of the party, Migwan now joined happilyin the discussions, and asked questions right and left about the beststyle in which to make her dress. She said nothing about the formerfunction of that particular piece of goods. "Extravagant Migwan!" saidSahwah, "getting a satin dress for the party. My mother made me get silkpoplin," Gladys's dress had arrived from New York, but she would notbreathe a word in regard to it and the girls were wild with curiosity.Only Hinpoha was allowed to behold its glories, as a consolation for notbeing able to come to the party. Of course Hinpoha had been sworn tosecrecy regarding it, but that did not keep her from rhapsodizing aboutit on general principles and pitching the girls' curiosity still higher.

  Now there was one girl who had been invited to the party who said verylittle about it. This was Emily Meeks, who sat beside Gladys in thesession room. Emily had also entered the class this fall, but, unlikeGladys, her path had not been marked
by triumphs. She was timid andretiring, and after being three months in the class was little betterknown than she had been at first. The truth was that Emily was anorphan, working her way through High School by taking care of thechildren of one of the professors after school hours, and had neithermoney nor time to spend in the company of her classmates. Gladys wassorry for her because she always looked so sad and lonely, and, thinkingto give her one good time at least to treasure up in the memory of herschool days, invited her to the party. Emily accepted the invitationgratefully.

  The night of the party came at last. Migwan's dress was finished andwhen she was finally arrayed in it she could compare favorably with thewealthiest girl in the crowd. She even wore her mother's high-heeledwhite satin wedding slippers with the little gold buckles, which fittedher perfectly. She skipped away happily with a good-bye kiss to hermother, who was tired out with her labors.

  Gladys had relented at the last minute, and promised the Winnebagos thatif they would come a half hour early they might help her dress. That wasbecause the Winnebagos were closer kin to her than the rest of thegirls, and it would be a shame to have any one else see the dress first.So they all gathered in Gladys's room, where the dress lay on the bed.It was of light blue chiffon, exquisitely hand embroidered indainty-colored butterflies. "Oh-h," they gasped, not daring to touch it.

  "There goes the bell!" exclaimed Gladys, "and I'm not even dressed. It'ssome of the boys, I hear their voices," she said presently, afterlistening for the sounds from below. "Run down, will you, girls, andentertain them until I come?"

  The Winnebagos departed to act the part of hostesses for their friendand Gladys got hurriedly into her dress. Before she was ready to go downshe heard a large group of girls arriving, then another delegation ofboys. The orchestra had begun playing. Gladys's foot tapped the floor intime to the music as she fastened up the dress. "Just wait until theysee me dance the Butterfly Dance," she was thinking, with innocentpride. She clasped the butterflies on her shoulders in place and with alast survey of herself in the glass she set forth to greet her guests.When she reached the head of the stairs the bell rang again and shepaused to see who it was. From the hall upstairs she could get a view ofthe entire reception room without being seen herself. The last comer wasEmily Meeks, whom the maid was relieving of her wraps. She was allalone, apparently at a loss what to do in company, and--dressed in awhite skirt and middy blouse! Gladys could see the coldly amused glancessome of the girls were bestowing on her, and the indifference with whichshe was being treated by the boys. Why did she come dressed in such afashion? Gladys felt a little indignant at her. Then she reflected thatEmily probably had nothing else to wear, and, besides, it didn't makeany difference if one was dressed so plainly; there were enough brightlydressed girls to make the brilliant scene that she loved.

  But at the same time a thought struck her which made her decidedlyuncomfortable. It was, "How would you like to be the odd one in thecrowd, and have all the others take notice of you because you didn'tmatch your surroundings? To face a battery of eyes that were amused orscornful or pitying, according to the disposition of the owner of theeyes? To feel lonesome in the midst of a crowd and wish you were milesaway?" With one foot on the top step Gladys hesitated. In her mind thererose a picture--the picture of her first night in camp when she had seena Camp Fire Ceremonial for the first time, when she felt lonesome andfar away and out of place. Again she saw the figures circling around thefire and heard the words of their song:

  "Whose hand above this blaze is lifted Shall be with magic touch engifted To warm the hearts of lonely mortals Who stand without their open portals.

  * * * * *

  "Whoso shall stand By this hearthstone Flame fanned, Shall never stand alone----"

  And later the flame had been given into her keeping, and she wassupposed to possess the magic touch to warm lonely hearts. She glancedat herself in the long mirror in the hall, and was struck afresh by thebeauty of the dress. The shade of blue was just the right one to bringout the tint of her eyes and the gold of her hair. From head to foot shewas a vision of loveliness such as delighted her dainty nature. Oneinterpretation of "Seek Beauty" was to always dress as beautifully andbecomingly as possible. Her mother was impatiently waiting for her tocome down and show herself. Then she looked over the railing again.Emily Meeks had withdrawn from the groups of laughing girls and boys andhad crept into a corner by herself. The words of the Fire Song echoedagain in her ears:

  "_Whoso shall stand By this hearthstone Flame fanned, Shall never stand alone!_"

  Gladys turned and fled to her room and resolutely began to unclasp thefasteners of her butterfly dress. A ripple of astonishment went throughthe rooms downstairs when she descended clad in a white linen skirt anda middy blouse. All the girls had heard about the dress from New Yorkand were impatient to see it. Frances Jones and Caroline Davis stoodright at the foot of the stairs waiting for Gladys to come down so theywould not lose a detail of it, and Mrs. Evans was watching them to seewhat effect the butterfly dress would have on them. When Gladys camedown dressed in a white skirt and middy she could not believe her eyes.She hurried forward and asked in a low voice what was the matter withthe new dress.

  "Nothing, mother," said Gladys sweetly, with such a beautiful smile thather mother dropped back in perplexity. Gladys advanced straight to EmilyMeeks and greeted her first of all, with a friendly cordiality that puther at her ease at once. Emily, who had been dismayed when she foundherself so conspicuous among all the brightly gowned girls, wasreassured when she saw Gladys similarly clad, and never found out aboutthat quick change of costume that had taken place after her coming. Theother girls of course understood this fine little act of courtesy, andshamefacedly began to include Emily in their conversation andmerrymaking.

  So, if Mrs. Evans had counted on Gladys's dress that night to testify tothe soundness of the Evans fortune she was destined to be disappointed;but on the other hand, if inborn courtesy is a sign of high birth andbreeding, then Gladys had proven herself to be a princess of the royalblood.