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Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College

<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> <h3>MRS. GRAY'S CHRISTMAS CHILDREN</h3> "If this isn't like old times, then nothing ever will be!" exclaimed David Nesbit, beaming on Anne Pierson, who was busy pouring tea for the "Eight Originals" in Mrs. Gray's comfortable library. "Old times!" exclaimed Hippy Wingate, accepting his teacup with a flourish that threatened to send its contents into the lap of Nora O'Malley, who sat beside him on the big leather davenport. "It takes me back to the days when I had only to lift my hand and say, 'Table, prepare thyself,' and some one of these fair damsels immediately invited me to a banquet. Gone are the days when I waxed fat and prosperous. Now I am thin and pale, a victim of adversity." "I think you look stouter than ever," declared Nora cruelly. "You say you have lost ten pounds, but—" she shrugged her shoulders significantly. "Cruel, cruel," moaned Hippy. "It is sad to see such calloused inhumanity in one so young. Pass me the cakes, Anne, the chocolate covered ones. They, at least, will afford me sweet consolation." "I object," interposed Reddy Brooks. "Don't give him that plate. Hand him one or two, Anne. I like the looks of those cakes, too." "Man, do you mean to insinuate that I am not what I seem?" demanded Hippy, glaring belligerently at Reddy. "No, I am stating plainly that you are exactly what you seem. That's why I am looking out for my share of the cakes." "Always prompted by selfish motives," deplored Hippy. "How thankful I am that the sweet blossom of unselfishness blooms freely in my heart. It is true that I would eat all the cakes on that plate, but from a purely unselfish motive." "Let's hear the motive," jeered Tom Gray. "I would eat them all," replied Hippy gently, favoring the company with one of his famously wide smiles, "to save you, my beloved friends, from indigestion. It is better that I should bear your suffering." "Thank you," retorted David Nesbit dryly, helping himself to the coveted cakes and passing the plate over Hippy's head to Mrs. Gray, "I prefer to do my own suffering." "Oh, as you like," returned Hippy airily. "I have always been fonder of Mrs. Gray than I can say." He sidled ingratiatingly toward where Mrs. Gray sat, her cheeks pink with the excitement of having her Christmas children with her. From the time Grace, Miriam and Anne stepped off the train into the waiting arms of their dear ones, their vacation had been a season of continued rejoicing. Mrs. Gray, who, Tom gravely declared, would celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday next April, was tireless in her efforts to make their brief stay in Oakdale a happy one. On Christmas night she had gathered them in and given them a dinner and a tree. She had also given a luncheon in honor of Anne and a large party on New Year's night. It was now the evening after New Year's and the morning train would take the boys back to college. Grace, Miriam and Anne would leave a day later for Overton. Nora and Jessica were to remain in Oakdale until the following week. It seemed only natural that they should spend their last evening together at the home of their old friend. Outside the "Eight Originals," Miriam had been the only one invited to this last intimate gathering. "Now, Hippy, stick to the truth," commanded Mrs. Gray, shaking her finger at him, but handing him the plate at the same time. Hippy swooped down upon it with a gurgle of delight. "It's the truth. I swear it," he declared, holding up one fat hand in which he clutched a cake. "What made you give him the plate, Aunt Rose?" asked Tom reproachfully. "Bless you, child, there are plenty of cakes. Let Hippy have as many as he can eat." "Vindicated," chuckled Hippy, between cakes, "and given full possession besides." "I wouldn't be so greedy," sniffed Nora O'Malley. "I'm so glad. I dislike greedy little girls," retorted Hippy patronizingly. "Stop squabbling," interposed Grace. "Here we are on the eve of separation and yet you two are bickering as energetically as when you first caught sight of each other two weeks ago. Did you ever agree on any subject?" "Let me see," said Hippy. "Did we, Nora?" "Never," replied Nora emphatically. "Then, let's begin now," suggested Hippy hopefully. "If you will agree always to agree with me I will agree—" "Thank you, but I can't imagine myself as ever being so foolish," interrupted Nora loftily. "She spoke the truth," said Hippy sadly. "We never can agree. It is better that we should part. Will you think of me, when I am gone? That is the burning question. Will you, won't you, can you, can't you remember me?" He beamed sentimentally on Nora, who beamed on him in return, at the same time making almost imperceptible signs to Grace to capture the plate of cakes, of which Hippy was still in possession. In his efforts to be impressive, Hippy had, for the moment, forgotten the cakes. But he was not to be caught napping. The instant Grace made a sly movement toward the plate it was whisked from under her fingers. "Naughty, naughty, mustn't touch!" he exclaimed, eyeing Grace reprovingly. "Let him alone, girls, and come over here," broke in David Nesbit. "He only does these things to make himself the center of attraction. He wants all the attention." "Ha," jeered Hippy exultantly. "David thinks that crushing remark will fill me with such overwhelming shame that I shall drop the cakes and retire to a distant corner. He little knows what manner of man I am. I will defend my rights until not a vestige of doubt remains as to who is who in Oakdale." "There is not a vestige of doubt in my mind as to what will happen in about ten seconds if certain people don't mend their ways," threatened Reddy, rising from his chair, determination in his eye. "Take the cakes, Grace," entreated Hippy, hastily shoving the plate into Grace's hand. "Nora, protect me. Don't let him get me. Please, mister, I haven't any cakes. I gave them all to a poor, miserable beggar who—" "Here, Reddy, you may have them," broke in Grace decisively. "It is bad enough to have an unpleasant duty thrust upon one, but to be called names!" "I never did, never," protested Hippy. "It was a mere figure of speech. Didn't you ever hear of one?" "Not that kind, and you can't have the cakes, again," said Jessica firmly. "Give them to me, Grace." "Jessica always helps Reddy," grumbled Hippy. "Now, if Nora would only stand up for me, we could manage this whole organization with one hand. She is such a splendid fighter—" "I'll never speak to you again, Hippy Wingate," declared Nora, turning her back on him with a final air of dismissal. "Gently, gently!" exclaimed Hippy, raising his hand in expostulation. "I was about to say that you, Nora, are a splendid fighter"—he paused significantly—"for the right. What can be more noble than to fight for the right? Now, aren't you sorry you repudiated me? If you will say so immediately I will overlook the other remark. But you must be quick. Time and I won't wait a minute. Remember, I'm going away to-morrow." "Good-bye," retorted Nora indifferently. "I'll see you again some day." "'Forsaken, forsaken, forsaken am I,'" wailed Hippy, hopelessly out of tune. "Now, see what you've done," commented David Nesbit disgustedly. "I'm truly sorry," apologized Nora. "Hippy, if you will stop singing, I'll forgive you and allow you to sit beside me." She patted the davenport invitingly. "I thought you would," grinned Hippy, seating himself triumphantly beside her. "I always gain my point by singing that song. It appeals to people. It is so pathetic. They would give worlds to—" "Have you stop it," supplemented Tom Gray. "Yes," declared Hippy. "No, I don't mean 'yes' at all. Tom Gray is an unfeeling monster. I refuse to say another word. I have subsided. Now, may I have some more tea?" Anne filled the stout young man's cup and handed it to him with a smile. "What are you going to be when you grow up, Hippy?" she asked mischievously. "A brakeman," replied Hippy promptly. "I always did like to ride on trains. That's why I am spending four years in college." "Don't waste your breath on him, Anne," advised Nora. "He won't tell any one what he intends to do. I've asked him a hundred times. He knows, too. He really isn't as foolish as he looks." "I'm going to try for a position in the Department of Forestry at Washington after I get through college," announced Tom Gray. "I'm going into business with my father," declared Reddy. "I don't know yet what my work will be," said David Nesbit reflectively. "All you children will be famous one of these days," predicted Mrs. Gray sagely. She had been listening delightedly to the merry voices of the young people. To her, as well as to his young friends, Hippy was a never-failing source of amusement. "To choose a profession is easier for boys than for girls," declared Grace. "I haven't the slightest idea what I shall do after my college days are over. Most boys enter college with their minds made up as to what their future work is going to be, but very few girls decide until the last minute." "Girls whose parents can afford to send them to college don't have to decide, as a rule," said Nora wisely, "but almost every young man thinks about it from the first, no matter how much money his father is worth." "That is true, my dear," nodded Mrs. Gray. "Yet I am sure my girls as well as my boys will astonish the world some day. In fact, Anne has already proved her mettle. Nora hopes to become a great singer, Jessica a pianiste and Grace and Miriam—" "Are still floundering helplessly, trying to discover their respective vocations," supplemented Grace. "Yes, Mrs. Gray," smiled Miriam, "our future careers are shrouded in mystery." "Time enough yet," said Mrs. Gray cheerily. "Going to college doesn't necessitate adopting a profession, you know. Perhaps when your college days are over you will find your vocation very near home." "Perhaps," assented Grace doubtfully, "only I'd like to 'do noble deeds, not dream them all day long,'" she quoted laughingly. <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> "'And so make life, death and the vast forever One grand sweet song,'" </div> </div> finished Anne softly. "That is what I shall do when I am a brakeman," declared Hippy confidently. "You mean you will make life miserable for every one who comes within a mile of you," jeered Reddy Brooks. "Reddy, how can you thus ruthlessly belittle my tenderest hope, my fondest ambitions? What do you know about my future career as a brakeman? I intend to be touchingly faithful to my duty, kind and considerate to the public. In time the world will hear of me and I shall be honored and revered." "Which you never would be at home," put in David sarcastically. "What great man is ever appreciated in his own country?" questioned Hippy gently. Even Reddy was obliged to smile at this retort. "Let the future take care of itself," said Tom Gray lazily. "The night is yet young. Let us do stunts. Grace and Miriam must do their Spanish dance for us. Then it will be Nora's and Jessica's turn. Hippy can sing, nothing sentimental, though. David, Reddy, Hippy and I will then enact for you a stirring drama of metropolitan life entitled 'Oakdale's Great Mystery,' with the eminent actor, Theophilus Hippopotamus Wingate as the 'Mystery.' Let the show begin. We will have the Spanish dance first." "Come on, Miriam," laughed Grace. "We had better be obliging. Then we shall be admitted to the rest of the performance." The impromptu "show" that followed was a repetition of the "stunts" for which the various members of the little circle were famous and which were always performed for Mrs. Gray's pleasure. "Oakdale's Great Mystery," of which Hippy calmly admitted the authorship, proved to be a ridiculous travesty on a melodrama which the boys had seen the previous winter. Hippy as the much-vaunted Mystery, with a handkerchief mask, a sweeping red portiere cloak, and an ultra-mysterious shuffle was received with shrieks of laughter by the audience. The dramatic manner in which, after a series of humorous complications, the Mystery was run to earth and unmasked by "Deadlock Jones, the King of Detectives," was portrayed by David with "startling realism" and elicited loud applause. "That is the funniest farce you boys have ever given," laughed Mrs. Gray, as Hippy removed his mask with a loud sigh of relief and wiped his perspiring forehead with it. "You will be a playwright some day, Hippy." "I'd rather be a brakeman," persisted Hippy with his Cheshire cat grin. It was half-past ten o'clock when the last good night had been said and the young people were on their way home. As the Nesbit residence was so near Mrs. Gray's home, Miriam was escorted to her door by a merry body guard. At Putnam Square the little company halted for a moment before separating, Nora, Jessica, Hippy and Reddy going in one direction, Grace, Anne, Tom and David in the other. "Are you coming down to the train to-morrow morning to see us off?" asked David Nesbit, his question including the four girls. "Of course," replied Grace. "Don't we always see you off on the train whenever you go back to school before we do?" "Then we'll reserve our sad farewells until the morn," beamed Hippy. "Sad farewells!" exclaimed Nora scornfully. "I never yet saw you look sad over saying good-bye to us. You always smile at the last minute as though you were going to a picnic." "'Tis only to hide my sorrow, my child," returned Hippy lugubriously. "Would'st have the whole town look upon my tears and jeer, 'cry baby'?" "That's a very good excuse," sniffed Nora. "Not an excuse," corrected Hippy, "but a cloak to hide my real feelings." "That will do, Hippopotamus," cut in David decisively. "We don't wish to hear the whys and wherefores of your feelings. If we stayed to listen to them we would be here on this very spot when our train leaves to-morrow morning." "Wait until we come back for Easter, Hippy, then if you begin the first day you're home you'll finish before we go back to college," suggested Grace. "That's a good idea," declared Hippy joyfully. "I shall remember it, and look forward to the Easter vacation." "I shan't come home for Easter, then," decided Nora mercilessly. "Then I shan't look forward to anything," replied Hippy with such earnestness that even scornful Nora forgot to retort sharply. "We all hope to be together again at Easter," said Grace, looking affectionately from one to the other of the little group. "Remember, every one, your good resolution about letters." "We'll talk about that in the morning," laughed Reddy, who abhorred letter writing. "You mean you'll forget about it," said Jessica significantly. "We all have our faults," mourned Hippy. "Now, as for myself—" "Take him away, Nora," begged David. "I will," agreed Nora. "Come on, Hippy. Reddy, you and Jessica help me tear him away from this corner." "How can you tear me away now? At the precise moment when I had begun to enjoy myself, too?" reproached Hippy. "This is only the beginning," was Reddy's threatening answer. "We are going to leave you stranded on the next corner. Then you can go on enjoying yourself alone." "Try it," dared Hippy. "If you do I shall lift up my voice and tell everyone in this block how unfeeling and hard-hearted some persons are. I shall mention names in my most stentorian tones and the public will rush forth from their houses to hear the truth about you. Ah, here is the corner! Now, leave me at your peril." "His mind is wandering," said Reddy sadly. "He imagines he is still 'Oakdale's Great Mystery.' We had better lead him home. I'll take his left arm, and Nora——" "Will take my right," interrupted Hippy. "Reddy, you may attend to your own affairs, and keep your distance from my left arm. Jessica, please look after Reddy. His mind is wandering. In fact, it always has wandered. Crazy is as crazy does, you know." "Yes, we know," flung back David significantly. "Do you?" asked Hippy in apparent innocence. "I was so afraid you didn't. To lose one's mind is a dreadful affliction, but not to know that one is crazy is even worse. I am so relieved, David, Grace, Tom, and all of you, that at last you know the truth concerning yourselves. It is indeed a sad——" A moment later the loquacious Hippy was hustled down the street by three determined young people, while the other four turned their steps in the opposite direction. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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