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Updated: May 19, 2025
Harold's summary dismissal from "Middie's Haven" the previous Saturday night, Ralph, Jean Paul, Durand, Bert, Gordon and Doug had been ordered to report at the office and had it not been for the hint given at the tea, would have gone in trepidation of spirit.
Then came the story of the concerts at home, and Polly's whistling at the Masquerader's Show when Wharton Van Nostrand fell ill, and a dozen other vivid little glimpses of the life back in Severndale and up in "Middie's Haven" until their listeners were nearly wild with excitement. "And they are to have a house party there during the holidays, girls. Think of that!" cried Helen.
It was not necessary to be too explicit, they felt, and twenty minutes later all were over at Middie's Haven, Guy Bennett and Richard Allyn, to Juno's secret disgust, having shifted into civilian clothes as was the privilege of the first classmen "on leave," the difference between "leave" and "liberty" being very great indeed. Stella, although admiring the uniforms, was tantalizingly uncritical.
She wished to have one of her long, quiet talks with her aunt before "shifting her holding ground," she said, and that could only be up in Middie's Haven, cuddled upon a hassock beside Mrs. Harold's easy chair, with the logs lazily flickering upon the brass andirons.
You are pretty solid in that direction, little girl, and you'll never have a better friend in all your born days, and don't you ever forget that fact. Well, the upshot is, that next Friday, one week from today, Middie's Haven will have its tenant back and, meantime, she is to write some letters and lay a train for your welfare, honey.
Middie's Haven and the 'bunch' are just a degree too high up for you to reach, I'm afraid, and there's no elevator in Wilmot Hall," answered Peggy quietly. Polly laid down the things she was holding for Stella, dusted her hands of chocolate crumbs by lightly rubbing her fingers together, and walked quietly over to the couch. Helen looked somewhat alarmed and drew back among her pillows.
"Forget it," advised the other attendant, "It's the middie's neck, not yours." "But we took the net down that goes with that bar. Suppose the young man should fall. He'd break his neck, and what could we say with the net gone?" "He's no business up there at this late hour in the afternoon," grumbled the other man. "That talk won't save us, either, if anything happens."
How would it seem to have no Severndale to run out to? No Peggy to pop into Middie's Haven? No boon companion to ride, walk, drive, skate with, or lead the old life which they had both so loved?
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