CHAPTER III
IN BOSTON
"I think," Miss Clyde said to her mother one morning late in November,as she put the last article in her suitcase and snapped it shut, "thatBlue Bonnet and I will go to a hotel this time. We shall be out shoppingall day and making arrangements for Blue Bonnet at school, so that therewill be little time for visiting. If you should need me for anything youmight wire the Copley Plaza."
"Are you not afraid Honora and Augusta will feel hurt?" Mrs. Clyderemonstrated. "They enjoy Blue Bonnet so much, it seems a pity not tolet them see all they can of her."
"They will have plenty of visits with her later on, Mother. I feel surethey will understand. If you keep well, and everything is all righthere, we might extend our visit over Sunday. In that case we should goto them, of course."
Blue Bonnet embraced her grandmother affectionately.
"Don't get lonesome, that's a duck," she exclaimed, bestowing an extrakiss.
"Blue Bonnet, please address your grandmother less familiarly. Thoseexpressions you have acquired are not respectful. I cannot tolerate themany longer," Miss Clyde spoke a trifle sharply.
Blue Bonnet looked surprised.
"I didn't mean it for disrespect, Aunt Lucinda. I only meant it forlove; but I won't do it again if it annoys you."
"It does annoy me very much, dear. Stop and think of the word you usedjust now. A duck! In what possible way could your grandmother resemble aduck?"
"I didn't say she resembled one, Aunt Lucinda. I said--"
But any shade of distinction was too much for Miss Clyde's patience.
"We will not argue the question, Blue Bonnet. Please eliminate the wordfrom your vocabulary. It is inelegant as well as inexpressive."
Blue Bonnet looked a little rebellious as she waved to her grandmotherand followed Miss Clyde to the carriage. She wished Aunt Lucinda wouldgrant her a little leeway in her mode of expression--it was sotroublesome to always pick and choose words. Besides, she had her ownopinion as to the expressiveness of slang. Grandmother _was_ a duck, aperfect--
"Take good care of yourself, dearie," the gentle voice was at thatmoment calling, "and if you stay over Sunday, send Grandmother apostal."
Blue Bonnet promised, Denham touched the whip to the horses, and sheand Aunt Lucinda were off.
The first visit of the afternoon was to the school. Miss Clydetelephoned Miss North for an appointment, which was made for fiveo'clock. Miss North also hoped, the maid said, that it would beconvenient for Miss Clyde and her niece to dine with her at six, and seesomething of the school and the girls.
Blue Bonnet was delighted. She had been formally entered in the schoolsome weeks before, her tuition paid, her room engaged for the first ofJanuary. This had been necessary on account of limited accommodations.
Miss North was awaiting her guests in her living-room at the head of thefirst flight of stairs. She took Blue Bonnet's hand cordially, and heldit for a moment in a friendly grasp.
"And this is the new member of our family," she said with a pleasantsmile, as she brought forth chairs.
Blue Bonnet looked about while her aunt and Miss North chatted.
The room pleased her, it was in such exquisite taste. Soft rugs carpetedthe polished floor; beautiful pictures graced the walls; old mahoganylent its air of elegance, and books abounded everywhere.
Miss North pressed a button on her desk after a moment and a neat maidentered.
"Ask Mrs. Goodwin to come here, Martha, please."
Mrs. Goodwin must have been in waiting, for she made her appearancequickly; a motherly looking woman with an alert, cheerful countenance.
"Our house-mother, Mrs. Goodwin, Miss Clyde--Miss Ashe. Miss Clyde wouldlike to see the room we have reserved for her niece, Mrs. Goodwin."
Mrs. Goodwin led the way up a second flight of stairs.
"I am sorry, Miss Clyde, that we could not give Miss Ashe a room aloneas you desired, but entering so late it is quite impossible. I am sureshe will enjoy her room-mate however, a Miss Cross from Bangor, Maine.We think it a wise plan to put an Eastern and a Western girl togetherwhen possible--the influence is wholesome to both."
She rapped softly on a door at the front of the building.
"May we come in, Miss Joy?" she said to the girl who opened the doorslowly, book in hand.
"Certainly," she answered, far from cordially, and, acknowledging theintroductions, went over to the window where she resumed her reading.
The room was large and airy--a corner room with four windows. Mrs.Goodwin threw up the blinds of the south windows.
"The view is beautiful from here," she said.
She crossed the room and opened a door, disclosing a small hall.
"The bathroom and closets are here."
Between the large west windows were two single beds, and in a corner agrate with an open fire gave a homey touch. There was a desk in the roomtoo. Blue Bonnet supposed it was to be used jointly. She looked about;there was plenty of room for another. She would ask Aunt Lucinda to buyone for her; and a bookcase to hold some of her favorite volumes.
Blue Bonnet was exceedingly quiet during the rest of the tour throughthe building, and at dinner. When she was alone with her aunt in thestreet she burst forth:
"I just can't do it, Aunt Lucinda. I never in this world can room withthat girl and be happy. Joy Cross! Who ever heard of such a name? It'splain to be seen which she'll be. A cross, all right!"
Miss Clyde looked at Blue Bonnet in amazement.
"Anybody would know to look at her she couldn't be a joy! Did you noticehow she shook hands, Aunt Lucinda?"
"That will do, Blue Bonnet. It is very unjust to criticize people youdon't know. Appearances are often deceiving. Miss Cross may prove adelightful companion--"
"Oh, no, Aunt Lucinda. She couldn't--not with that nose. It's the longthin kind--the kind that pokes into everything. And her eyes! Did younotice her eyes? They're that awfully light kind of blue--they look socold and unfeeling; and she was so--so--un-cordial when Mrs. Goodwinsaid I was to room with her. She wasn't even polite. She didn't say shewas glad, or that would be nice or--she didn't say anything--"
"There wasn't time to say much," Miss Clyde answered.
"Grandmother says there is always time for courtesy," Blue Bonnetflashed, and Miss Clyde knew that her niece had the best of theargument.
"Nothing can be done at present, Blue Bonnet. You heard Mrs. Goodwin saythat all the rooms are taken. Perhaps some change can be made later--butnow--"
"Now, I shall just have to take up my cross and bear it, of course; butI sha'n't cling to it a minute longer than I have to, you may be sure ofthat."
Despite the seeming irreverence, Miss Clyde smiled. Blue Bonnet'stempestuous little outbursts were often entertaining if they werereprehensible. They sometimes reminded Miss Clyde of a Fourth of Julysky-rocket. They glowed in brilliancy and ended in--nothing! Likelyenough Blue Bonnet would finish the term quite adoring her room-mate.She ventured to suggest this.
Blue Bonnet scorned the idea. She was sure that she should just hateher!
Blue Bonnet was up early the next morning, ready for the shoppingexpedition which promised to be of more than ordinary interest. AuntLucinda seemed inclined to be almost extravagant, Blue Bonnet thought,as together they made out the shopping list and pored over theadvertisements in the papers.
"Let's begin at Hollander's, Aunt Lucinda," Blue Bonnet said. "I loveHollander's. We could get the Peter Thompsons there, and my eveningdresses and slippers and things."
The "evening dresses" amused Miss Clyde.
"I am afraid you did not read the school catalogue very carefully, BlueBonnet. It especially requested simplicity of dress."
"I know it did, Aunt Lucinda, but you saw how sweetly the girls weregowned at dinner. Perhaps the dresses _were_ simple, but they lookedexpensive and--dressy," she added for want of a better word. "Thatpretty dark girl that sat next me had on the darlingest pink organdywith a Dutch neck. Oh, it was so dear. I wond
er where she got it?"
She had not long to wonder. The Boston shops seemed to have anticipatedthe needs of girls all over the country. Blue Bonnet stood entrancedbefore cases of the daintiest frocks that could be imagined.
"Oh, Aunt Lucinda," she exclaimed, holding up two that attracted her, "Ican't make up my mind which of these is the prettier. I adore this bluecrepe with these sweet buttons, but the white organdy is such a lovewith that white fixing--and, oh, will you look at that yellow chiffon! Isuppose I couldn't have chiffon, could I? It looks too partified."
Miss Clyde thought not.
"But you might try on the white, and the blue gown," she said.
They fitted admirably with a few alterations, and to Blue Bonnet's greatjoy Miss Clyde took both--and yet another; a sheer white linen lawn witha pink silk slip, which called forth all the adjectives Blue Bonnetcould muster.
Then came an exciting moment when slippers and hose were selected;dainty but serviceable underwear, and the little accessories that countfor so much in a girl's wardrobe.
"I feel exactly as if I were getting a trousseau," Blue Bonnet said, asthey started for a tailor's, where she was to be measured for suits."And, Aunt Lucinda, there's just one more thing I want--two things! Adesk and some books. You saw that desk in the room I am to have. Well,the cross--I mean Miss Cross--had her things in it. I saw them. I don'twant to share it with her. We'd be forever getting mixed up and fussing.I'd like to avoid that."
Miss Clyde remembered the check Mr. Ashe had sent--the half of which hadnot yet been spent, and the instructions that everything was to beprovided for Blue Bonnet's happiness and comfort. Had she a right torefuse? She, too, wanted Blue Bonnet to be happy and comfortable, buther New England training from youth up made the lavish spending of moneyalmost an impossibility. She greatly feared that the increased allowanceMr. Ashe had insisted upon giving Blue Bonnet for her private use atboarding-school, would inculcate habits of extravagance.
After they left the tailor's a desk was soon found, suitable in everyparticular--mahogany, of course, since the other furniture in the roomwas.
Coming out of the furniture store Miss Clyde and Blue Bonnet passed afloral shop. Blue Bonnet gave a little cry of surprise.
"Look, Aunt Lucinda, there's Cousin Tracy!"
She slipped up to him quietly, putting her arm through his. He turned ina dazed sort of fashion.
"Well, well," he said. "Where did you come from?"
"Woodford."
"When, pray?"
"Yesterday."
Mr. Winthrop seemed surprised, and Miss Clyde made haste to explain.
"Look here," he said, putting his hands on Blue Bonnet's shoulders andturning her toward the florist's window.
A miniature football game was being shown in gorgeous crimson and goldsettings. The field was outlined in flowers and the little men in capsand sweaters were most fascinating.
Blue Bonnet gave his arm a squeeze.
"It's the Harvard-Yale game, isn't it,--to-morrow? I'm crazy about it.Oh, I do hope Harvard wins! My father was a Harvard man. So are you, Iremember."
"Want to see it?" Cousin Tracy asked, as if seeing a Harvard-Yale gamewere the simplest thing possible.
Blue Bonnet fairly jumped for joy.
"Could I? Could we get tickets?"
Cousin Tracy nodded and touched his breast pocket significantly.
"I have two. Right by the cheering section."
She crossed her hands in an ecstatic little fashion that expressed thegreatest excitement and joy.
"You wouldn't mind, would you, Aunt Lucinda? Why, the We Are Sevenswouldn't get over it in a week. It seems too good to be true."
Before Miss Clyde and Blue Bonnet parted with Mr. Winthrop allarrangements had been completed, and Blue Bonnet walked away as if shewere treading on air.
That night the following letter found its way into the Boston mail:
"COPLEY PLAZA HOTEL, BOSTON, MASS., "November 28th, 19--.
"DEAREST UNCLE CLIFF:--
"Aunt Lucinda and I came up here yesterday to buy my clothes for school, and also to see what kind of a room I was to have when I come up for good the first of January.
"Aunt Lucinda has been awfully nice about everything, letting me get most of the things I wanted. I have some loves of dresses, which I won't take time now to describe, as you will be in Woodford so soon for Christmas and will see them. They will be fresh, too, for Aunt Lucinda says I can't wear any of them until I am at Miss North's. Aunt Lucinda bought me a perfect treasure of a desk--mahogany, with the cunningest shelves underneath for books. She bought me some new books, too--some that I've wanted for a long time. There's 'The Life of Helen Keller;' grandmother has one, and I simply adore it; and Thoreau's 'Week on the Merrimac,' and one or two of Stevenson's--Robert Louis, you know--and a new 'Little Colonel,' my old one is worn to shreds. Oh, yes, and a beautiful new dictionary; it looks too full of information for anything, and there's a perfectly dear atlas with it besides. We got a copy of Helen Hunt's 'Ramona,' too. We don't know yet if Miss North will allow me to have any love stories; but, if she won't, Aunt Lucinda will keep it for me. I wouldn't part with it for anything. We had such fun getting the books; only Aunt Lucinda kept fussing about modern bookstores, and wishing that I might have seen the 'Old Corner Book Store,' where she used to come when she was a girl. She says she used to spend whole days there browsing around--she really said that--and poking under the counters and behind things for what she wanted. Just fancy! I think a nice polite clerk that comes up to you with a pleasant smile and says, 'What can I do for you, Madam?' is much nicer, don't you?
"I've saved the worst of my news for the last. I hope it won't make you unhappy, for there will be some way out of it, I reckon. It's this: I hate the room-mate I've got to have. She's perfectly horrid--you wouldn't like her a bit, Uncle Cliff; and the way she shakes hands--well, it makes you feel as if you were going to have to support her until she got through with the ordeal--so limp, and lack-a-daisy. She's tall and thin, with straw-colored hair and white eyelashes and cold blue eyes, and she's from Bangor, Maine. I tried to talk with her for a minute while Aunt Lucinda and the house-mother were making arrangements about me, but all I could gather was that she was a Senior, and from the State of Maine. Why do you suppose these Easterners always say from the State of something? Seems so much easier to just say Maine.
"There was another girl that I sat next to at dinner (we stayed to dinner) who was real nice and so pretty. Her name is Annabel Jackson, and she's from Tennessee. She had on such sweet clothes. I didn't talk to her much, for I couldn't get the other one off my mind--Joy Cross, from the State of Maine. Such a name! Joy! If it could only have been Patience or Hope or Faith--even Dolores, but I suppose it couldn't.
"Uncle Cliff, I've been wishing so that Carita Judson could go to school here at Miss North's with me. She has such a hard time with all those babies to tend. I told Aunt Lucinda that I wished I could send her out of some of my money, but she said to wait until you got here and then talk it over. I don't know whether she could get a room now or not, the school is so full this year--that's why I have to have the cross. You could be thinking it over, couldn't you, Uncle Cliff, and let me know as soon as you come?
"I reckon I've about got to the end of my news now, except that Cousin Tracy is going to take me to the Harvard-Yale game to-morrow. I'm so wild over it that I know I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night. I will write Alec about it when I get back to Woodford and tell him to give the letter to you and Uncle Joe to read.
"Give my love to all the folks on the ranch. How's Benita? Did she like the lavender bags I sent for the sheets? I hope she uses them as I told her. I rather thought she might hang them around her neck or give them to Juanita. I know if the We Are Sevens were here they would
send heaps of love. Aunt Lucinda sends her best regards. I am counting the days now until Christmas. I check off every day on the calendar until I see you.
"With dearest love, I am, "Your affectionate niece, "BLUE BONNET ASHE.
"P. S. Please tell Alec that Aunt Lucinda has promised to look after the General and Solomon when I'm gone. I am going to miss Chula awfully, but there is a riding-school where Miss North lets the girls get horses and ride with a teacher.
"P. S. Miss North seems very nice, but you never can tell how people are going to be until you live with them, I hope for the best. B. B."