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Grace looked rather confused. Arline's chance shot had gone home. She had not forgiven Kathleen, yet only yesterday she had paved the way for her to possible honor. "What did you do here on Thanksgiving?" she asked abruptly. "Why didn't you go to New York?" Arline laughed. "I am perfectly willing to change the subject and answer both your questions.
I couldn't stand it I just had to come and see if she's alive. So I made Hank hitch right up as soon as we knew the fire wasn't going to git into all that brush along the creek, and run down to the town and bring me over. And the way " "But where's Man?" Kent laid a hand upon the wheel and shot the question into the stream of Arline's talk. "Man! I dunno what devil gits into men sometimes.
A colorful account of the doings of the Harlowe House girls at Overton College as set down by Evelyn Ward brought a smile of pleasure to Grace's face. One of the two remaining envelopes bore Arline's mark. Grace's smile deepened as she opened it and saw: "DEAREST LOYALHEART: "You owe me a letter, but never mind. I am of a patient and forgiving disposition, so I'll overlook it.
With his own judgment to guide him, he brewed some very creditable tea, sugared and creamed it lavishly, browned a slice of bread on top of the stove blowing off the dust beforehand after Arline's recipe for making toast, buttered it until it dripped oil, and carried it in to her with the air of a man who will have peace even though he must fight for it.
The only objection is that she will be the thirteenth member. That is the reason I haven't proposed her name before this. We shall be obliged to ask some one else to make fourteen." "Arline," Grace's tone caused her friend to eye her sharply, "do you suppose we ought to ask Kathleen West to join our club?" "No." Arline's blue eyes grew resentful. Her "no" was coldly incisive.
Tom's sudden and still unexplained removal had cast a pall over the remaining trio that was likely to linger indefinitely. On the afternoon of the next day after Arline's departure, a highly-excited young man, whose plump, genial face wore an expression of angry concern, hurried up the walk to the Harlowe's veranda.
Suppose we keep it a secret until our society is in running order?" "Hello, children," greeted Emma Dean, as they entered the dining room that night. "Has the board of directors been holding a meeting? I see you are all here." Several girls already seated at the table looked up smilingly as the six girls slipped into their places. Laura Atkins returned Arline's friendly nod with a cold bow.
Grace evaded Arline's implied interrogation for the moment. "Come and pay your respects to Mother, then we'll go upstairs to your room and you can rest a little before dinner. You must be very tired after your long ride. Then, too, we can exchange confidences. I have something to say to you about the letter you just mentioned." Grace could not refrain from smiling a little.
The unpleasant scene with Arline's disgruntled suitor had shaken her severely. She was living out the Golden Summer, that had promised so much, in a fashion far different from the glorious realization of it for which she and Tom had hoped and planned. Yet she had been mercifully spared the pain of beholding a cherished ideal shatter itself at her feet.
The managers at Martell's and Vinton's had been interviewed, and both proprietors had agreed to furnish practically the same dinner at the same price, which was considerably more than fifty cents, and was to be paid privately from Arline's own pocket money.
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