Sisters

  CHAPTER XV. PEERS OR PIGS

  The day of the party to be given in honor of Clare Tasselwood arrived andthe three most interested were in Gwyn's room dressing for the occasion."There is something very queer about Clare," Beulah announced. "I justpassed her room a moment ago. The door was open and I saw her sitting infront of the mirror brushing out that mass of long yellow hair of hers,and I am positive that she was laughing. She saw my reflection, Isuppose, for the moment I had passed she got up and closed the door soquickly that it sounded like a slam."

  Gwynette, bemoaning the fact that they were not permitted to have maidsassist them with their dressing, said impatiently: "Pat, you'll simply_have_ to help me with these hooks." Then, to Beulah: "What are youdriving at? Why do you think it is queer that Clare Tasselwood should belaughing? You laugh sometimes yourself, don't you?"

  "Why, of course I do, if I think of something funny," Beulah agreed, "butwhat I can't understand is why Clare Tasselwood should laugh all alone byherself when she is dressing to go to our party. Of course she can't haveany idea that we are giving it because we believe her to be the daughterof a younger son of the English nobility, can she?"

  "Of course not!" Gwyn declared. "We three are the only ones who know thatand we have not told. I am more than ever convinced that it is true, foryesterday, when Madame Vandeheuton asked me to take Clare's mail to herroom there was a letter with what appeared to be a crest on it."

  Patricia, having finished hooking up the blue satin gown of her friend,remarked with energy: "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that. I've had'ma doots' lately about the whole thing, and now and then a faint ideapenetrates my brain that we're idiots whichever way it is. Here we aresquandering not only this month's spending money but next month's aswell, and what is to come of it?"

  Beulah sat on a low stool to put on her gilt slippers. "Oh, we'll have totake a gambler's chance. Pat, be a sport. We know for a fact that thereis a pupil at this seminary who is the daughter of a younger son of anoble English family. Miss Granger was only too glad to let _that_ muchbe known. I've no doubt it brought her several pupils whose vain motherswished them to be associated with such a girl even if they could not knowwhich one she was."

  Pat agreed. "And didn't we study the qualities of every girl in thisestablishment, beginning with Clare and ending with that timid,sickly-looking creature who always wears brown?"

  "And who associates, by choice, with the granddaughter of my mother'sservants," Gwyn scoffed as she surveyed her beautiful party gown in thelong gilt-framed mirror. "Wasn't it adorable of Ma Mere to send me thiscreation from Paris? She knows how hurt I am because she put me in thisdetestable prison instead of permitting me to accompany her to France,and so she sends me presents to sooth my wounded spirits, I suppose."

  "Your mother is mighty good to you," Pat remarked in rather a criticaltone, "better than I think you deserve. I have never yet heard you saythat you wish you could do something to add to _her_ pleasure."

  Gwynette crossed the room, watching the swing of the soft satin folds inthe mirror over one shoulder. Her lips were pressed together as thoughshe were trying to keep from retorting to her friend's speech, but hermounting anger caused her to stop in front of Pat's chair and flare ather. "I can't understand _why_ you continue to associate with me at all,since you disapprove of me so entirely. If you feel that it is an idioticthing for us to try to do homage to the daughter of nobility, why didn'tyou say so at first? It is too late now to make any changes in our plans,but after tonight I shall no longer expect you to be one of my intimatefriends."

  Beulah said conciliatingly: "Gwyn, we aren't any of us perfect, and wecertainly don't want our friends to pretend they think we are, do we?"Then, in an entirely different tone, she continued: "For myself, Gwyn,since your brother and fifteen other cadets are coming to our party, Ishall consider my money well spent. I'm pining for a dance. And, as forthe Lady Clare Tasselwood, I don't care a fig whether she is or isn't.Hark, what's the commotion without?"

  The palatial bus from The Palms was arriving and on the high seat withthe driver, resplendent in his gold-trimmed blue uniform, sat CadetHarold.

  Beulah, who had skipped to the front window, hurried back to don hercloak and tie a becoming cherry colored scarf over her short light browncurls. "Gwyn, I wish you would be the one to tell Lady Clare that thehour of departure has arrived. Pat and I will round up the other twelve."Gwynette lifted her eyebrows as she adjusted her swansdown-trimmed cloakabout her slim shoulders. "Sometimes, Beulah, from your choice ofEnglish, I might think you a cowgirl."

  The rebuked maiden chuckled mischievously. "I ain't, though," she saidinelegantly, "but if ever there was a romance of the Wild West writtenthat I haven't read, I hope I'll hear of it soon. I'm daffy about thelife. Truth is, I'd heaps rather meet a cowgirl than I would a youngerdaughter of----"

  But Gwynette, with a proud toss of her handsome head, had swept from theroom, leaving Beulah to mirthfully follow, accompanied by Pat, whose darklooks boded no good. Beulah drew her friend back and closed the door."Child," she remonstrated, "don't take Gwyn's loftiness so much to heart.I think she is just as superlatively selfish as you do, and I also thinkshe treats her invalid mother shamefully, but you know we can't go aroundthis world telling everyone _just_ what we think of them. It isn't donein the best society. Gwyn has her good points, too, otherwise we wouldn'thave been chumming with her, would we?"

  "Well, take it from me. I've chummed my last. After tonight I'll choosemy friends, not have them chosen for me."

  "Meaning what?"

  "You know as well as I do that because our three mothers were in the sameset at home, we were all packed off here together, but come, I'll try toget some pleasure out of this idiotic party."

  When they reached the lower hall, they found all of the girls who hadbeen invited waiting for Madame Vandeheuton, who was to be the evening'schaperone. She was a timid little French woman who felt that the girlswere always making fun of her efforts at speaking English, and so sheusually kept quiet, except when she was teaching her dearly loved nativetongue. Gwynette had especially asked that Madame Vandeheuton bepermitted to accompany them, since they could not go without one of theteachers.

  Clare Tasselwood was gorgeously arrayed in a brocaded gold velvet gownwith a crownlike arrangement of pearls bound about her mass of softyellow hair. She looked more than ever regal. Gwynette sat beside her inthe bus and was her constant companion throughout the evening. Theballroom of The Palms had been reserved for this party and the fifteencadets were charmed with the pretty girls from the select seminary, buthandsome Clare was undeniably the belle.

  Each time that a dance was concluded, Gwyn asked her partner to take herto that part of the salon to which Clare's partner had taken her.

  Harold Poindexter-Jones noticed this after a time and asked slangily:"What's the big idea, Sis? Is the tall blonde a new crush?"

  Gwyn's haughty reply was: "Harold, I consider your language exceedinglyvulgar. If you wish to know, this party is being given in honor of ClareTasselwood, whose father is a younger son of English nobility."

  Her brother looked at her in wide-eyed amazement, then burst into alaugh. Indignantly Gwyn drew him through an open door, out upon adeserted porch.

  "What do you mean by such an ill-mannered explosion?" she inquired wrathfully.

  Harold became very sober. "Sis," he said, "are you in dead earnest? Hasthat girl been telling any such yarn about her family?"

  "Why no," Gwyn had to confess, "she didn't tell it, but----"

  Again the boy laughed: "That's too good to keep. I'll have to tell thefellows. Old Hank Peters, the chap who has danced with her so much, comesfrom her part of the globe--Chicago, to be accurate, and he said that herfather made his pile raising pigs--and they aren't English at all. Theyare Swedes."

  Gwynette was angry with herself and everyone else. "Don't you dare totell; not a single soul!" she flared. "If you do, I'll get eve
n with yousome time, some way."

  The boy, suddenly serious, took his sister's hand. "Gwyn," he said, "Ihave no desire to make this a joking matter with the fellows. Of courseI'll keep it dark, but I do hope it will teach you a lesson."

  Beulah and Pat wondered at Gwynette's altered manner toward the guest ofhonor, but, not even to them did she confide the humiliating informationshe had received.

  On the ride back to the seminary in the bus Gwyn had very little to sayand the others attributed it to weariness.

  Gwynette noticed a merry twinkle in the blue eyes of Clare Tasselwoodwhen she effusively bade the three hostesses good-night, assuring themthat she had spent a most delightful evening. Gwyn went sulkily to herroom almost _sure_ that the daughter of that pig-raising Westerner hadknown all along _why_ the party had been given. She had indeed learned alesson she decided as she closed her room door far less gently than sheshould have done at that hour of night. Before retiring she assuredherself that even if she found out who _really was_ the daughter of ayounger son of English nobility, she wouldn't put _herself_ out to asmuch as speak to her.