Grace Harlowe's Return to Overton Campus Part 25

Evelyn nodded.

"I'm coming into your seat. I hate riding alone in a train. I'm so glad you are going the whole way."

Evelyn made no reply. She wished Kathleen a thousand miles off.

The newspaper girl scrutinized narrowly her companion's lovely set face.

Trained in the study of human nature she had learned to know the outward signs of a perturbed spirit. Her straight brows knit in a puzzled frown.

Then, noting that Evelyn had colored hotly under the shrewd fixity of her sharp eyes, she glanced carelessly away.

Neither girl spoke for a little. Evelyn was wondering distractedly how she could escape from Kathleen, when they reached New York, without arousing suspicion on the part of the newspaper girl. Kathleen, whose intuition as well as her eyes told her that all was not well with Evelyn, racked her brain for the words which would tear down the wall of stony reticence which this strange girl had built about herself. Try as she might she could think of no effectual way to begin. Deciding to bide her time she tried to rouse Evelyn's too-apparently flagging spirits by a crisp account of a big newspaper story which she had run to earth during her Easter vacation. At first she met with small success, but as she talked on Evelyn grew interested in spite of herself and began asking half timid, half eager questions about New York. Was it hard to get work there? Could a girl live on six or seven dollars a week in a large city? How did these girls go about it to find positions? In what section of the city did most of the working girls, who had no homes, live?

Kathleen answered her questions imperturbably, telling of her own experience in New York as a beginner of newspaper work. Later Evelyn plied her with countless questions regarding the stage, its advantages and disadvantages. The throb of anxiety in her voice was stronger than her elaborate pretense of indifference. Figuratively, Kathleen p.r.i.c.ked up her ears. It was only when they had exhausted the subjects of the working girl and the stage that she launched at Evelyn the seemingly innocent question, "Where are you going to stay in New York, Miss Ward?"

"I--why--" stammered Evelyn.

"Do you expect to be met at the station? It will be almost midnight when we reach New York, you know."

"I know," muttered Evelyn. Averting her face from Kathleen she stared out the window.

"It's now or never," decided Kathleen. Her strong supple fingers closed suddenly over one of the limp white hands that lay so helplessly in Evelyn's lap. "Miss Ward," she said in a low tense voice, "something dreadful has happened to you. I want you to tell me about it. Remember this. No matter what it is, I am your friend. I feel sure that you are going blindly and alone, to the coldest, cruelest city in the world and I should never forgive myself if I allowed you to do it."

Into Evelyn's eyes leaped indescribable terror as Kathleen's hand closed over hers. For an instant she stared wildly at the newspaper girl, then the stony reserve, with which she had bolstered herself, gave away, and tearing her hands free she covered her face with them.

Kathleen waited patiently till the tearless storm which shook Evelyn had subsided a little. "Now tell me all about it," she urged gently.

Evelyn's hands dropped from her face. The tortured look in her blue eyes aroused all Kathleen's sympathy. Haltingly, tremblingly, bit by bit, Evelyn told of the temptation to use her sister's hard-earned money for fine clothes, and the gulf of deception and dishonesty into which she had plunged by yielding to it.

Kathleen listened without comment. When Evelyn had finished she said, "You must go back to Overton, Miss Ward, and to Grace Harlowe. She will forgive everything and set you right with yourself again."

"Oh, I couldn't," protested Evelyn wildly. "She knows already how dishonest I've been. I can never go back to Overton. I must stay in New York and work and never see Ida or any one again. I have forfeited all claim to friends.h.i.+p or love."

"Nonsense! Just get rid of that idea as fast as ever you can. You are going to my boarding house with me to-night. To-morrow we will go and see Anne Pierson. I know where the Southards live. We will ask her to get you an engagement. Perhaps you can meet Mr. Forest."

"Miss Harlowe told Miss Pierson about me, and she wrote and offered to get me an engagement," faltered Evelyn, "but I knew I couldn't take it, so I refused. There wouldn't be any chance for me now. That was several weeks ago."

"There is sure to be something for you. You are beautiful, you know,"

went on Kathleen in an appraising, matter-of-fact tone. "You are sure to make good. You must. You're going to pay Semper Fidelis back as soon as ever you can and you'll have to work hard and save your money."

Forgetting for the instant her remorse and humiliation Evelyn clasped her hands in an eagerness born of the desire to make reparation. "Oh, I will!" Then her face clouded. "Miss Pierson won't care to help me after the dreadful things I've done."

"Who is going to tell her about them? I'm not. I know Grace Harlowe won't. It isn't necessary for you to tell her either. It shall be a secret among we three. I know Grace will say so."

The two girls, so strangely brought together and united in this new bond of fellows.h.i.+p, talked on. It was ten minutes to twelve when they reached New York City. At the station they were met by a tall clean-cut, young man with keen blue eyes. "Got your wire, Kathleen." He stooped and kissed the self-reliant Miss West, who turned very pink. "I'll have to explain," she smiled as she introduced him to Evelyn. "Mr. Vernon is my fiance, but don't you dare breathe it at Overton. Miss Ward won't be able to see the persons she is to call upon until to-morrow. She's going to my boarding house with me. You can call a taxicab and ride that far with us." The newspaper girl's clever explanation bridged a yawning gap.

Kathleen and Mr. Vernon kept up a steady conversation during the ride.

Evelyn sat silent, trying to realize just what had happened to her. She experienced an immeasurable sense of relief, as though she had been dragged, just in time, from the edge of a frightful precipice. Long after Kathleen had gone to sleep that night she lay staring into the darkness, wide-eyed and wondering at the goodness of this girl whom she hardly knew, and into her heart crept a sudden revelation of what true fellows.h.i.+p meant and was to mean to her forever afterward.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

The following morning Kathleen took Evelyn to call on Anne Pierson at the Southards. She gazed almost in awe at Everett Southard, while her feeling of admiration for Anne was deep and abiding. Her undeniable beauty was not lost upon Mr. Southard, who later confided to his sister and Anne that Miss Ward was the most beautiful blonde girl he had ever seen. After an hour's chat in the actor's big, comfortable library Mr.

Southard proposed that they call upon Mr. Forest that morning. Miss Pierson had written Miss Harlowe about the part, he declared, to the complete mystification of both Kathleen and Evelyn. He was glad Miss Ward had been able to come. He was sure she would be exactly suited to the part in "The Reckoning." Kathleen managed to shoot a warning glance at Evelyn not to betray herself. Later, by adroitly questioning Anne, she managed to put herself in possession of all the details concerning the letter Anne had written to Grace.

Mr. Forest quite fulfilled Mr. Southard's prediction. He could not refrain from showing his satisfaction with Evelyn. Within half an hour after entering his office she had signed a contract to play the part of 'Constance Devon' in the forthcoming production of 'The Reckoning.'

"First rehearsal July 2d. Here's the part. Study it. Make these hardened barnstormers help you," declared Mr. Forest with a dry chuckle, as he handed her the part.

"But how does he know that I can do it?" she questioned, half fearfully, as they left the office.

"He is going to take a chance," explained Mr. Southard. "In his own mind he thinks you will do. He knows we will help you. You must work hard and prove to him that he is right."

To Evelyn the rest of that eventful Sat.u.r.day seemed like a marvelous dream. She had never before been in a large city, but despite her interest in the sights and sounds of New York she could not help thinking of how different it might all have been if she had not met Kathleen. The busy, endless streets terrified her and the more she saw of the great metropolis the less confidence she felt in her own power to wrest a living from it, single-handed and alone.

After leaving Mr. Forest's office they took luncheon at the Southards.

Mr. Southard and Anne had a matinee in the afternoon. That evening they were to give the final performance of their season, which had run later than usual. Kathleen had an a.s.signment for her paper for the afternoon, so Miss Southard took Evelyn to a matinee at one of the theaters. That evening the little party met at six o'clock in Mr. Southard's dressing room, where their dinner was brought in and served to them. Afterward Kathleen, Miss Southard and Evelyn sat in a box and saw Everett Southard and Anne in "The Merchant of Venice."

After the theater came a little supper at the Southards' home to which Mr. Vernon, Kathleen's fiance, was also invited. Miss Southard had insisted that Kathleen and Evelyn should be her guests for the remainder of their stay in New York, and it was under the Southards' hospitable roof that Evelyn fell asleep that night after one of the happiest, most eventful days she had ever spent.

Sunday morning soon slipped by. It seemed hardly half an hour from breakfast until train time. The charming informality with which the actor and his sister treated her made Evelyn feel as though she had known them for a very long time. In the enjoyment of the moment she quite forgot the real reason of her journey to New York, and it was only when Miss Southard invited her to come to their home to live as soon as college was over, in order that Mr. Southard might help her with her new part, that the humiliating remembrance of her misdeeds returned to her with sickening force.

"You must write to your sister, my dear, and explain everything," said Miss Southard. "If you will give me her address I will write to her too.

That is one point on which Everett is most particular. He would not encourage a young girl to enter upon the life of the stage without the full consent of her parents or guardian."

When finally she and Kathleen had said good-bye to the Southards, who had seen them to their train, and were settled for the long ride to Overton, Evelyn faltered, "Kathleen, all the time I was with the Southards I felt just like a traitor. Do you think I ought to have told them everything? It's not fair to them to masquerade under false colors."

Kathleen eyed her companion searchingly. Evelyn's conscience was no longer sleeping. It was now wide awake and tormenting her.

"I'm glad you feel as you do about it, Evelyn," was her blunt rejoinder.

"It shows that you are on the right road. I don't believe it is necessary for you to tell the Southards anything. Still there is another person who must decide that."

"You mean Miss Harlowe?"

Kathleen nodded.

"I can't bear to face her." Evelyn's voice sank almost to a whisper.

"You are not the only one who has said that." There was a curiously significant ring in Kathleen's voice that made Evelyn look at her in mute inquiry.

"Let me tell you of another girl who had to face the same situation."

Kathleen began with her entrance into Overton as a freshman and told Evelyn the story of her hatred of Grace and her betrayal of Grace's trust, of how Elfreda had shown her the way to reparation and the gaining of true college spirit, and of how she had tried in a small measure to redeem the past by writing "Loyalheart" as a belated tribute to Grace.

Evelyn listened with somber attentiveness. The past three days had taught her more of life than had her entire eighteen years. She had lately begun to see what college might mean to the girl who lived up to its traditions. Until the moment of hearing Kathleen's story she had felt that Grace Harlowe must despise her utterly. Now she fixed solemn blue eyes on Kathleen. "Do you believe Miss Harlowe will ever forgive me?" was her mournful question.

"Of course she will. You don't know her as I do."