Grace Harlowe's Problem
CHAPTER XXII
FIGHTING LOYALHEART'S BATTLE
The revue was an unqualified success. Greek Hall was filled tooverflowing, and the money fairly poured into the box office for theHarlowe House fund. There was a general rejoicing the next day among theperformers, and the same night a social session was held in the livingroom at Harlowe House. To Grace it seemed as though she had been waftedback once more to the dear dead days when the Sempers had held forth.The presence of Arline and Elfreda was the last touch needed to completethe illusion, and she went about her work feeling happier than she hadfor a long time. Even the shadow cast upon her heart by Tom's absenceseemed less gloomy.
But on the heels of her brief elation trod disaster. Miss Wharton hadchosen to become highly incensed because she had not been consulted inregard to the holding of the entertainment, and the long-suspended swordfell. The revue had been given on Wednesday evening, and on Fridaymorning Jean had received a note summoning her to Miss Wharton's office.This time Miss Wharton intended to interview the two young womenseparately. She believed that Jean would reveal what she had hithertokept a secret if Grace were not present. With unreasonable prejudice shechose to place the brunt of Jean's refusal to speak upon Grace'sshoulders.
Jean obeyed the summons and came away from Overton Hall with a white,set face. Almost the first person she encountered on the campus wasEvelyn, who was hurrying to one of her classes, and in her anguish ofmind she poured forth the whole bitter story to her roommate.
"Oh, Jean, why didn't you tell me this before," cried Evelyn. "I neverknew until the night of the dress rehearsal that things were not goingsmoothly for Miss Harlowe. Kathleen West told me in confidence thatsomething was wrong, and asked me to find out anything I couldconcerning it and let her know. We must go straight to her and tell hereverything. She can help us if any one can. Just for once I'll cut myEnglish recitation. Come on. Oh, I do hope Kathleen is at home."
But Kathleen was not at Wayne Hall, and after some parleying the twogirls concluded to wait until she returned from her classes to herluncheon. It was ten o'clock when they rang the bell of the collegehouse where Grace had spent four happy years, and for the next hour anda half they waited in an agony of suspense. When Kathleen arrived theyhurried her off to her room and proceeded to acquaint her with all thefacts in their possession concerning the misfortune so soon to overtakeGrace.
Kathleen listened to them without comment. When they had finishedtalking she asked one sharp question, "Do you know Miss Wilder'saddress?"
Neither girl knew it, but Evelyn was seized with a bright idea. "HildaMoore knows it. I am sure she does."
"Then hurry to Overton Hall and get it from her," ordered Kathleen. "I'mgoing to send a telegram. Are you sure Miss Wharton hasn't sent forGrace yet?"
"Yes, yes. She said she intended to send for Miss Harlowe to-morrowmorning. Evidently she has a reason of her own for not sending for herto-day," was Jean's eager response. "But she is going to report us toPresident Morton and the Board within the next day or so."
"Good-bye. I'll be back directly." Evelyn dashed out of the room anddown the stairs on her errand.
Twenty minutes later she returned. "Here it is," she handed it to thenewspaper girl.
Kathleen had not taken off her hat since her arrival at Wayne Hall."Come on, girls," she said. "You must go home and have your luncheon.Just leave everything to me. I think I can promise Miss Wharton asurprise."
"What did she say to you, Jean?" asked Evelyn as they left Kathleen atthe corner, headed for the telegraph office, and went on to HarloweHouse.
"What didn't she say. She is going to send me away if she can. I toldher everything, but it only made matters worse. I said over and overagain that Miss Harlowe was not to blame, but she grew harder everyminute. How I despise her." Jean shuddered with disgust. "All this ismerely an excuse to oust Miss Harlowe. Why she doesn't like her,goodness knows. What is Miss West going to do, I wonder?"
"Telegraph Miss Wilder for one thing. Still, she can't write or comehere in time to save Miss Harlowe," declared Evelyn. "Hilda knows aboutit. She said Miss Wharton dictated a perfectly horrid letter to Mrs.Gray, too, about Miss Harlowe this morning."
"Oh, dear," half sobbed Jean. "It's dreadful, and it's all my fault."
Evelyn did not answer. She could not help feeling that Jean deservedthis bitter moment.
"Shall you tell Miss Harlowe?" asked Evelyn as they hurriedly ascendedthe steps.
Jean nodded.
When they entered the dining room, for luncheon they learned to theirutter consternation that Grace had gone for the day to visit a classmatein Westbrook and would not return until after dinner that night. In themeantime Kathleen West had hurried to the telegraph office anddespatched the following message to Miss Wilder. "Wire President Morton,delay action, charges made by Miss Wharton against Grace Harlowe, untilword from you. Letter will follow. Answer. Kathleen West."
"There," she chuckled when she heard the tap of the operator's machine,"that will help a little. Never mind the expense."
She was late to luncheon, and therefore missed Patience, but toward theclose of the afternoon they met, and Kathleen took her into herconfidence. All evening the two girls remained in the living roomlistening intently for the ring of the bell that might mean an answer toKathleen's urgent message. At ten minutes to nine Kathleen said wearily."It's too late to hear to-night. The telegraph office closes at nineo'clock. The answer will come in the morning. Even as she spoke, thedoor bell rang loudly. Pale and trembling with suspense, she herselfanswered the door. Hastily signing the messenger boy's book she closedthe door on his retreating back and returned to the living room,nervously tearing open the envelope as she walked. Then she cried out insurprise.
"What is it?" questioned Patience in alarm.
Kathleen held out to her the disquieting bit of yellow paper. "Don't befrightened. It's good news. See." Patience read over her shoulder."Start east to-day. Recovered. Don't write. Reach Overton Friday week.Keep secret. Telegraphed president. Katherine Wilder."
"Hurrah, we've saved the day," rejoiced Kathleen.
"And Kathleen West and Evelyn Ward have left milestones worth leavingalong College Lane," reminded Patience with a smile that was very nearto tears.
* * * * *
Grace returned to Harlowe House from Westbrook at a little after eighto'clock in the evening. She found Jean Brent anxiously awaiting herarrival, and at Jean's request they went at once to her room, where Jeanacquainted her with the bad news.
Grace listened with compressed lips, saying nothing.
Jean wound up her narration with, "I know it is all my fault, MissHarlowe, but truly I tried to make things come right for you. I toldMiss Wharton all about myself and tried to make her understand that youweren't in the least to blame for my misdeeds. But I only made mattersworse. She is contemptible." Jean's voice vibrated with bitter scorn.
"I thank you for defending me." Grace spoke unemotionally. "I hope thatPresident Morton will overlook the charge against you. I must go now. Iwish to be alone. I must decide what I am to do. Good night." She hadremained standing near the door during Jean's recital, now she opened itand walked slowly down the hall to her own door.
She entered her pretty room as one might enter a chamber of death. Sothe end had come. Well, she would meet it with a stout heart and a clearconscience. But she would not wait for Miss Wharton to charge her withbeing unfit for the trust Mrs. Gray had reposed in her. She stepped tothe library table and, opening a drawer, took out a sheet of her ownmonogrammed stationery and an envelope. Seating herself at the table, shetook her pen from its rack. After a little thought she began writing inthe clear, strong hand that characterized her. Her letter consisted ofnot more than a dozen lines. When she had finished she sealed, stamped,and addressed it to President Morton with a firm, unfaltering hand.
Wrapping a light scarf about her shoulders, she stole so
ftly downstairsand outdoors without being observed by the knot of girls in the livingroom. Crossing the campus, she dropped her letter into the post box atthe farther side, nearest the street. Then she walked slowly back,stopping at her favorite bench under the giant elm. The moon, almost atthe full, flooded the wide green stretch with her pale radiance. Thefringed arms of the old elm waved her a gentle welcome.
Grace sank upon the rustic seat racked with many emotions. How often shehad sat there and dreamed of what her work was to be, and now, just asshe had begun to reap the glory of it, it was to be snatched from her.
The soft beauty of the spring night coupled with the ordeal throughwhich she had just passed filled her with an unspeakable sadness. Shebowed her head upon her hands, but her thoughts lay too deep for tears.Yet even while she sat for the last time in the spot she loved sodearly, Kathleen West and Patience Eliot were standing side by sidereading the telegram that was to bring light out of darkness.