Back Aa

Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus

<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> <h3>THE WAY TO PERPETUAL YOUTH</h3> "This isn't a secret that any one told me," stated Anne. "It's something I found out for myself. One of the two persons it concerns doesn't know it yet. Perhaps she will never know." "How mysteriously interesting," commented Nora. "Hurry on with it, Anne. Who are the persons concerned?" "Mr. Southard and"—Anne paused briefly to give due effect to her words—"Miriam." A ripple of surprise passed along the row. "What do you mean, Anne?" was Grace's quick question. "I mean that for nearly four years Mr. Southard has cared for Miriam," replied Anne steadily. Nora's puckered red lips emitted a surprised whistle. "This is news," averred Jessica. "But Miriam could never care for him. He is so much older." "How old do you imagine Mr. Southard to be, Jessica?" asked Anne slyly. "Oh, I don't know. He must be—" Jessica paused reflectively. Then a sudden look of astonishment passed over her face. "Why how funny! He isn't really old. I don't believe he is as old as thirty-five, but he seems older." Anne nodded. "He is thirty-three. That isn't very ancient, is it?" "Miriam is twenty-four," mused Grace aloud. "She is so brilliant, self-possessed and stunning that one feels as though she were even older than that. I know she is very fond of the Southards, but I don't believe she suspects that Mr. Southard—" "She doesn't," put in Anne eagerly. "He has been careful that she shouldn't. I believe Miss Southard knows, but she would never say so, even to me. Do you remember the time we went to New York City for Thanksgiving, when we were freshmen at Overton, Grace? Well, it began then. I know him so thoroughly that I could see things that you girls couldn't. After that I took particular pains to notice the way he acted toward Miriam whenever they met, and, as Elfreda says, I could see his love for her grow and deepen. He cared a great deal last commencement, and he was so dreadfully afraid she'd find out that he actually kept away from her." "I remember that," interposed Grace. "Miriam noticed it, too. She told me that she was afraid she had in some way offended Mr. Southard, for he treated her with almost distant courtesy. I suppose he imagines himself as being too old for Miriam." "This is an interesting secret and no mistake," said Nora, wagging her head with satisfaction, "but what about poor Arnold Evans?" "You are running ahead too fast, Nora," smiled Anne. "Remember Miriam doesn't suspect that Mr. Southard loves her. The chances are she doesn't nor never will care for him. But I'll be generous and tell you another secret. Miriam and Arnold aren't the least bit in love with each other." "Do you know, Anne, I've always thought that, too," agreed Grace. "They have always acted more like two good comrades." "Exactly," replied Anne, "but, as far as I am concerned, girls, to me it would be a wonderful thing if some day Everett Southard and Miriam Nesbit should decide that they were necessary to each other's welfare. They are so admirably suited in temperament, disposition, and all that goes toward making two persons absolutely happy." "Hear the sage expound life and love," giggled Nora. "What about poor David's future happiness?" Anne flushed. "I can't answer that question," she said, after a little pause. "It does sound rather silly for me to go on talking about the love affairs of others when I can't settle my own. Not that I love David less, but acting more," she finished almost tremulously. "I move that we go on to the next secret." "Mine is about Julia Crosby," began Nora, "and I can tell you in few words. She's engaged to a Harvard man." "Really!" exclaimed Grace delightedly. "Where did you see her, Nora? I didn't know she was at home." "She came home from the mountains yesterday. I saw her in Carlton's, that new confectioner's shop on Main Street. We had a sundae together and she told me all about it. She has known her fiancé for two years. She met him at a Harvard dance. He was graduated last June from the Harvard law school. The engagement hasn't been formally announced yet. She's going to give a luncheon to announce it. She wanted me to be sure and tell you three girls. She is coming to see you soon, Grace." "I'll receive her with open arms," assured Grace. "That was a nice secret," commented Anne. "Now, Grace." "Our fairy godmother is coming to dinner to-night." "Hurrah!" cried Anne, standing up and waving her hand. "I didn't know she was within two hundred miles of Oakdale. It seems years instead of weeks since I saw her. When did she arrive in Oakdale?" "This morning. She telephoned me. In my last letter I mentioned my dinner to you girls, and said I wished she might be here too. She came home from the seashore a week earlier so as not to miss it. She didn't say not to tell you. I had been holding it back as a surprise. It served me in good stead by making me eligible to Secret Row." "Last but not least, Jessica," reminded Nora briskly. "I was going to tell you this evening when we were all together, and Reddy promised to help me, but, somehow, I'd rather tell you now, while we are together on these dear old steps where we've had so much fun." Something in Jessica's tone caused the eyes of her friends to search hers inquiringly. It carried with it unmistakable regret. It presaged parting. "Reddy and I aren't going to live in Oakdale this winter. We—we—are going—to—Chicago to live." "Oh!" Nora ejaculated, drawing her breath sharply. "Oh, Jessica!" A painful silence fell upon the row of girls, whose voices had only a moment since rung out so gayly. Nora sat staring straight ahead of her with quivering lips. Of the three girls she would miss Jessica the most sorely. Grace, too, felt that dreadful sense of loss, of which she had complained earlier in the afternoon, stealing down upon her. Anne's face wore a look of loving concern, but an expression of resignation to destiny, which was likely to lead one to the ends of the earth, lurked in her somber eyes. She had learned young to bow with the best possible grace to the inevitable. Suddenly a half-stifled sob broke the oppressive quiet. "Nora, you mustn't," protested Jessica weakly, but Nora's curly head was already resting on Grace's comforting shoulder, and an instant afterward Jessica sought the consolation of the other shoulder. "Girls, girls," soothed Grace, an arm around each, "you mustn't cry." Nevertheless she experienced a wild desire to lift up her voice and lament with them. "I know you looked forward to being together this winter. It's terribly disappointing, but you can write letters and visit each other, and next summer, Jessica, you must arrange to come to Oakdale and stay all summer. Why didn't you tell us before?" "Reddy didn't know it until yesterday," faltered Jessica. "His father has taken over a large business there and he wants Reddy to manage it for him. Reddy's mother doesn't want to live in Chicago, so Mr. Brooks wants Reddy to go." "It's the real parting of the ways," said Grace softly to Anne. Anne nodded. "Still, if we had our choice as to whether we would like to go back and live over our past or go on, I am sure we'd choose to go on," she said thoughtfully. "Don't you think so, Grace!" "Of course we would," agreed Grace cheerfully. "Good gracious, girls!" she exclaimed in sudden consternation. "Whose familiar figures are those coming across the field? It must be later than I thought." Nora's and Jessica's mourning heads bobbed up from Grace's shoulders with simultaneous alacrity. "Hippy!" gasped Nora. "Do I look as though I'd been crying? I wouldn't have him know it for the world." "Reddy!" recognized Jessica. "Are my eyes a sight?" "Also David and Tom," added Anne. "No, children, you haven't wept enough to permanently disfigure your charming faces. If the boys had not appeared we might now be weeping in a melancholy row. I had no idea that Jessica's secret was to be a positive tragedy." "Neither had I," responded Grace soberly, laying an affectionate hand on Jessica's arm. There was no time for further remarks on the subject, for the four young men were crossing the last field in record time. As they neared the row of young women Hippy Wingate picked up his coat and pirouetted toward them, a wide smile on his round face, as he chanted gayly in a high voice: <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> "Children go, to and fro In a merry pretty row; Faces bright, all alight, 'Tis a happy, happy sight. Swiftly turning round and round, Do not look upon the ground; Follow me, full of glee, Singing merrily." </div> </div> With each line of the song Hippy executed a most astonishing figure, ending on "merrily" with a funny pas-seul that turned the sorrow of the lately disconsolate audience to laughter. "How did you like that?" he inquired affably, as he landed directly in front of the steps. "Shall I sing the chorus now or would you prefer to hear it later." "Later, by all means," flung back Nora. "As you please. As you please," returned Hippy with a careless wave of his hand. "I am not chary of my art. I ask for but one recompense." "There he goes," groaned Dave Nesbit. "I'm not going," retorted Hippy, with dignity. "I'm standing perfectly still. However, I did not come away out here in this field to quarrel with you, David Nesbit. I came because I am a—" "Nuisance," suggested Reddy. "Precisely. No, I don't mean anything of the sort. I am not a nuisance. A nuisance is a tall, thin, conceited person with flaming red hair, pale blue eyes, a freckled nose and a slanderous tongue. His name begins with R and he is—" Without finishing his sentence Hippy took to his heels and disappeared around the corner of the Omnibus House, with an agility worthy of a better cause. "I'll see that he keeps at a safe distance from us till we start for Grace's," was Reddy's grim comment. "You'll see his head appear at that corner in a minute, and then, look out!" They waited in mirthful silence. True to Reddy's prediction Hippy's round face was suddenly thrust into view. Reddy leaped toward him. There was a horrified, "Oh, dreadful!" from Hippy, and the sound of running feet. "He's afraid of me," boasted Reddy in a purposely loud tone. "Don't you ever believe it," contradicted Hippy's voice. "I like the view from this side of the Omnibus House. I think Nora would like it, too." "Such thoughtfulness is rare," jeered David. "'Tis better to have thought such thoughts, than never to have thought at all," retorted the voice plaintively. "Let's eradicate him from the face of the earth, Reddy," proposed David. "He's a blot upon the community." "No-r-a," wailed the voice, "aren't you going to help your little friend!" "Rescue him, Nora," declared David disgustedly. "That's the reason he created all this disturbance." Nora dimpled, the pink in her cheeks deepening. "Yes, do," urged Grace. "It is high time for us to start home. We must be there to receive Mrs. Gray." "She sent me on ahead," informed Tom. "I wanted to wait and bring her over in my car, but she is going to have Haynes bring her over in the carriage." Nora disappeared around the corner of the house, but reappeared immediately, leading by the hand a broadly smiling Hippy, who carried a huge bouquet of buttercups and daisies in his free hand and cavorted at her side as joyously as the proverbial lambkin on the green. "You can lead the way with him, Nora," directed David. "I wouldn't trust him to bring up the rear. Reddy and I want him where we can keep an eye upon him." "Certainly we shall lead the way," flung back Hippy, "but not because you say so. Our superior rank places us in the front row of the procession. Come on, Nora. May I sing and dance? I haven't sung the chorus yet, you know." Without waiting for permission Hippy pranced ahead of her on his toes, swaying from side to side and scattering the flowers from his bouquet, his voice rising in a falsetto chorus of: "Singing merrily, merrily, merrily, Follow me, full of glee, Singing merrily." "He'll never grow old," said Anne, as she watched Hippy's ridiculous performance. "Neither will the rest of the Eight Originals," reminded Grace loyally. "Remember, we have a Fairy Godmother who has taught us the secret of perpetual youth." "What's the secret?" asked David innocently. He was fond of hearing Grace's enthusiastic views of things. "Never lose one's grip on life," she answered simply. And as the Eight Originals strolled home through the radiant sunset, in each young soul stirred the resolve to take a firm grip on life and keep eternally young at heart, no matter what the years might bring forth. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.