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Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus

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<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> <h3>THE HARLOWE HOUSE CLUB</h3> "There!" Grace Harlowe laid down her pen and scanned the notice she had just finished writing. "I'll post this now. The girls will see it this morning and again when they come in to luncheon. Then they will be sure to meet me in the living-room before dinner. I hope they will like our plan." "They ought to like it," replied Emma Dean. "It makes them a self-respecting, self-governing body." "That is precisely what I wish them to be," responded Grace, in all earnestness. "I believe that being members of Semper Fidelis was of great benefit to us. Oh, Emma, did I tell you that Mr. Bedfield's gift to Semper Fidelis is now an endowment? He called to see me on Friday for the express purpose of telling me that he has arranged the matter with Professor Morton. The money is to be known hereafter as the Semper Fidelis endowment. He said he felt certain that we had not handed the society down to this year's classes. He couldn't imagine any other young women in our places. Wasn't that nice in him?" "Very nice and very true," agreed Emma. "I am of the same mind. The Sempers can never be imitated, passed on to the next class, nor replaced. They are in a class all by themselves." "The purpose of this new club which I propose to organize will be one of welfare. The girls will do more for themselves as a self-governing body than I can possibly do for them. By the way, I wonder if Miss Ward is up yet. She overslept and missed her first recitation yesterday morning. She came down to the dining-room long after breakfast was over. Susan was rather upset over having to serve an extra breakfast. I was obliged to tell Miss Ward that if it occurred again she would have to abide by the consequences of her own tardiness. I can't impose upon the servants to please a girl who has no thought for any one except herself." Grace spoke rather bitterly. Her early disappointment in Evelyn Ward had deepened as the time passed. "I don't hear a sound from her room," commented Emma, who sat before the dressing-table brushing her long hair. With hair brush poised in the air she listened intently. "She is dead to the world." "Then I'll have to waken her," sighed Grace. Stepping out into the hall she knocked lightly on Evelyn's door. Receiving no response she knocked again, this time with more force. "Come in," called a sleepy voice. Grace turned the knob. Sure enough, Evelyn lay comfortably back on her pillow, her wonderful golden hair falling in long, loose waves about her. Her beauty now made little impression upon Grace, who knew only too well the tantalizing, troublesome spirit that lay behind it. "It is almost eight o'clock, Miss Ward. Remember, breakfast is over at nine." "I know it," responded Evelyn with maddening sweetness. She eyed Grace speculatively, but made no effort to rise. Without further words Grace closed the door. She did not wish to betray her annoyance. She had experienced a wild desire to march over to the bed and drag the complacent freshman forth from it by the shoulders. When Evelyn descended to the dining-room she found that most of the girls had eaten breakfast and gone off to chapel. Happening to recall that she had not attended the morning services for a week, and with visions of her unsigned chapel card staring her in the face, she ate a hurried breakfast and was about to depart when her eyes happened to rest upon the bulletin board in the hall around which were gathered several girls. Pausing, Evelyn read Grace's notice. It asked the members of Harlowe House to be in the living room at five o'clock that afternoon for the discussion of a most important subject. "I wonder what it is," said Nettie Weyburn, lively curiosity overspreading her usually placid face. "I think I know," volunteered Mary Reynolds. "Miss Harlowe was telling me only last night that she wishes to organize a club of just Harlowe House girls, with a president and other officers. The club will have a constitution and by-laws and every member will have to live up to them." "Wouldn't that be splendid?" asked Cecil Ferris, a gray-eyed, black-haired freshman who made up in energy what she lacked in height. "Who would be president I wonder," murmured Evelyn, shooting a glance of apparent innocence about the circle. "You'd make a good president, Miss Ward," declared Mary Reynolds, in open admiration. To her beauty-loving little soul Evelyn was the most exquisite person in the world. "I," cried Evelyn in well-simulated amazement. "I wouldn't attempt to be, I am not clever or popular enough." "I believe you would be the very one. You are so independent and know just how to do things." Now that Mary had suggested it, it met with Nettie Weyburn's placid approval. Cecil Ferris echoed it. She, too, had fallen under the spell of Evelyn's beauty. "I must run along or be late to chapel," murmured Evelyn modestly, and hurried off at precisely the wisest moment to further her own cause. The ambition to become the president of the proposed club had sprung into life in her self-centered young soul as she stood reading the bulletin, and she determined that she would leave nothing undone to obtain the honor. At luncheon that day she took particular pains to be unusually friendly to every one with whom she came in contact, exhibiting a gay graciousness of manner toward a number of girls she had secretly labeled, "digs, prigs and plodders." This quite won their trusting hearts and made them innocently wonder how they had, so far, happened to miss becoming really well acquainted with Miss Ward. When at five o'clock the big living room began to fill, Evelyn was among the first there, with a dazzling smile for all comers. At ten minutes past five the thirty-three girls who claimed Harlowe House as their home were sitting or standing expectantly about the room, waiting for Grace, who stood at one end of the room with Emma, to call the meeting to order and enter upon the discussion of that "most important subject." "I have asked you to come here this afternoon because I believe the time has arrived to try out a plan which I have had in my mind ever since college began," stated Grace, by way of beginning. Then in clear, concise sentences she told of her desire that her girls should be self-governing and of how much good fellowship their banding themselves together would create. "I thought, if you approved of the plan, we might elect our officers at once, and appoint a committee to draw up the constitution and by-laws. I am going to ask you to talk it over among yourselves for ten minutes, while Miss Dean and I prepare some balloting slips," she concluded, and at once a loud buzz of eager conversation began. It was fifteen minutes before Grace again called the meeting to order, and appointed four tellers, who distributed ballots. Then nominations were in order. "I nominate Miss Ward for president," proposed Cecil Ferris. "I second the motion," came from Mary Reynolds. Grace could hardly control the surprise in her voice, when, after waiting a little, she asked: "Are there any further nominations?" "I nominate Miss Sampson," called a small pale girl from her perch in the window seat, with a fond smile in the direction of her roommate. Another girl seconded the nomination, and it was then moved and seconded that the nominations for president be closed. The nomination for vice-president, secretary and treasurer were then in order and after they were closed the voting began. "Well, of all things," whispered Emma to Grace, who sank into the chair beside her friend, a peculiar expression on her fine face. "I never dreamed of matters taking that turn, did you?" Grace shook her head. It had indeed come as a shock. She had thought of the club as a novel and possible means of bringing the Harlowe House girls into a closer relationship with one another. She had never considered the possibility of Evelyn being president of the club. It was evident that her nomination had come about through admiration of her undeniable beauty. She was absolutely unfit for any such office. Grace hoped, devoutly, that Miss Sampson, a tall, capable young woman, with a likable personality and a cheery, hearty manner of speaking, would be elected. Emma made no further remark, but watched the tellers with calculating eyes. At last one of them, who had been industriously making notations on a sheet of paper, rose to announce the results of the election. "The total number of votes cast for president was thirty-three. Of these Miss Ward received twenty-nine"—an enthusiastic clapping of hands sounded—"Miss Sampson four." She then went on to read the result of the balloting for the other three officers. Nettie Weyburn had won the vice-presidency, Cecil Ferris had been chosen secretary, while quiet little Mary Reynolds had been made treasurer. The reading of each name elicited its quota of applause, but it was plain that, of the four officers, Evelyn was, by far, the greatest favorite. After appointing a committee of four girls to assist her in drawing up the constitution and by-laws, Grace said pleasantly: "Will the new officers please come forward so that we can all see you. You must be formally introduced, you know." The newly elected officers rose from their various positions which they occupied in the room and advanced to where Grace stood. About Evelyn Ward's red lips played a smile of suppressed triumph as she shook the hand Grace offered her and listened to the former's sincere wish for her success. For an instant the gray eyes studied the perfect face gravely, as though trying to penetrate what lay behind its smiling mask. Then Grace turned to greet the vice-president, just in time to miss the mocking flash which lighted Evelyn's blue eyes. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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