Grace Harlowe's Problem Part 1

Grace Harlowe's Problem.

by Jessie Graham Flower.

CHAPTER I

THEIR GREATEST, DEAREST DAY

"And at this time next week we'll all be back at work," sighed Arline Thayer. "Not that I love work less, but the Sempers more," she paraphrased half apologetically. "It's been so perfectly splendid to gather home, and Elfreda was a darling to plan and carry out such a----"

"n.o.ble enterprise," drawled Emma Dean. "Behold in me a living witness to the truth of it. Before this time, when, oh, when, has this particular scion of the house of Dean had a chance to play in the nice clean sand and bathe in the nice green ocean? It is green, isn't it, Grace? Elfreda says it's blue, and those terrible, tiresome, troublesome twins say it's gray, but I say----"

A shower of small pebbles, cast with commendable accuracy, rained down on Emma. Raising herself on her elbows from her rec.u.mbent position in the sand, she looked reproachful surprise at the Emerson twins who, crouched in the sand and holding a fresh supply of pebbles in readiness, awaited her next remark.

"There," she declared calmly, "that simply proves the truth of my remark about terrible, tiresome, troublesome twins."

Two slim blue figures dropped their pebbles, descended upon the protesting Emma, and dragged her across the sand toward the water.

"Are we tiresome?" demanded Sara sternly, as she and Sue, still clutching Emma, paused for breath.

"Are we troublesome?" from Julia.

"Not a bit of it," Emma blandly a.s.sured them. "I said it only for the sake of alliteration. You are the most interesting persons I've ever met. I am so sorry I said you weren't, and I'm so nice and comfortable now. I hadn't thought of doing any further water stunts to-day." She struggled to a sitting posture and beamed with owlish significance upon her captors.

"All right, we'll excuse you this time, but, hereafter, keep away from alliteration," warned Sara.

"Until next time," chuckled Emma, scrambling to her feet. Graciously offering an arm to each twin, the trio strolled calmly back to the gay little party of girls on the sands.

It was a clear, suns.h.i.+ny morning in early September and nine young women had taken advantage of the ocean's placid, dimpled mood for an early morning dip.

For two weeks the Semper Fidelis Club, or, rather, nine of that most delightful organization of Grace Harlowe's early college days, had been holding a reunion at the Briggs' cottage, which was situated on the New Jersey coast, not far from Wildwood, a well-known summer resort. It had all begun with Elfreda's undeniable yearning to see her friends. Being a young person of energy, she immediately wrote, and sent forth on their mission, funny invitations that were a virtual command to the Sempers to gather at the Briggs' cottage for a two weeks' reunion, and only three of the club had been unable to accept.

To those who have known Grace Harlowe from the beginning of her high-school life she has now, without doubt, become a personal friend.

"Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School," "Grace Harlowe's Soph.o.m.ore Year at High School," "Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School,"

"Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High School" recorded her sayings and doings as well as those of her three friends, Nora O'Malley, Jessica Bright and Anne Pierson during their student days at Oakdale High School.

When the girl chums parted in the autumn following their high-school graduation, Nora and Jessica went together to an eastern conservatory of music, while Grace and Anne decided for Overton College and added to their number no less person than Miriam Nesbit, a schoolmate and friend.

On their first day at Overton circ.u.mstance, or perhaps fate, had brought J. Elfreda Briggs, a somewhat officious freshman, to the trio, and from a hardly agreeable stranger J. Elfreda became their devoted friend.

During "Grace Harlowe's First Year At Overton College," "Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College," "Grace Harlowe's Third Year at Overton College," and "Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College," the four girls pa.s.sed through many new experiences, not always entirely pleasant, but which served only as a spur to their ambition to gain true college spirit, and were graduated from Overton at the end of their four years'

course, more than ever the loyal children of Overton, their Alma Mater.

The building of a specially endowed home for self-supporting girls who were trying to gain a college education, presented to Overton College, by Mrs. Gray, in honor of Grace Harlowe, Anne Pierson and Miriam Nesbit, and named Harlowe House, decided Grace as to what her future work would be. In "Grace Harlowe's Return To Overton Campus" appears the story of her first year at Harlowe House.

And now the dear, too brief holiday was drawing to a close. To-morrow would see the house party scattered to the four winds. This was the last frolic they would have in the water.

"Oh, dear," lamented Arline, her blue eyes mournful with regret, "why is it that perfectly lovely times go by like a flash, while horrid, disagreeable ones last forever?"

"'Tis the way of life, my child. 'It is not always May,'" quoted Emma sentimentally. "I might as well add, right here and now, that I'm glad of it. May is a dubious and disappointing month, dears. It always pours barrels on the first. It's a shame, too, when one stops to consider all the poems that have been composed about that weepy, fickle first day of May.

"Oh, radiant May day, This is our play day.

Youth is in its hey day; Hail we this gay day; Park clouds away day.

"And then down comes the rain and spoils it all," finished the versifier, lapsing into prose.

Emma's improvisation was greeted with laughter.

"It sounds just about as sensible as a whole lot of those old English verses," declared Elfreda, who was not fond of poetry.

"It was a deadly insult to English verse," defended Anne Pierson with twinkling eyes. "You can't expect me to let it pa.s.s unnoticed."

"Having been fed as a babe on Shakespeare," agreed Emma, "I will admit that it gives you some room for criticism, but as a dutiful teacher of English I feel it entirely within my province to break forth occasionally into such English ditties as happen to come to my mind, regardless of Shakespeare."

"Oh, do say another," begged the Emerson twins. They especially delighted in Emma's poetical outbursts.

"Nothing comes to my mind," averred Emma solemnly. "Wait until the spirit moves me."

"I wish something would come to your minds about how we are to spend the rest of the day," put in Elfreda, with her usual briskness. "It isn't ten o'clock yet, and we've had our breakfast and our swim. Let's get together and decide now. Remember this is our greatest, dearest day. We specially reserved it. So we ought to make the most of it."

"I'm _so_ glad we packed most of our things last night," commented Arline, with satisfaction.

"Girls," Grace was the first to make a suggestion, "it's such a delightful day, wouldn't you like to go picnicking at the edge of those woods we pa.s.sed the other day when we were driving? Don't you remember how pretty the country was? There was a brook and long green hills sloping down to it."

"Grace Harlowe!" exclaimed Elfreda, her eyes very round. "You must be a mind reader, for that's precisely what I've been thinking about all morning. I'm so glad you proposed it. What do you say, girls? How about a picnic?"

There was a ringing a.s.sent on the part of the others.

"I hardly thought you would care much about going down to Wildwood for a dance," continued Elfreda. "Somehow when we go to hops we are sure to separate and not see much of each other until we're going home. What's the use in having a reunion if the reunionists don't reunite. I guess I'm selfish, but I can't help it."

"No, you're not, J. Elfreda," laughed Miriam, laying her hand on her friend's shoulder. "That's the way I feel, too. We can go to plenty of hops after we have each gone our separate way, but we can't have one another. Besides, what is _anything_ in the way of amus.e.m.e.nt compared to a Semper reunion?"

"Now you're talking," commended Emma, with an encouraging flourish of her hand. She had been busily scooping up the white sand as she listened to her friends' conversation. Now she took a fresh handful and let it fall gently into the open s.p.a.ce between the back of Sara Emerson's neck and her bathing suit. Sara, leaning interestedly forward, was an opportunity not to be disregarded.

"O-o-o-o," wailed the wriggling twin.

"Why, Sara, whatever _is_ the matter?" inquired Emma with such exaggerated solicitude that the victim laughed in spite of herself.

"Some ill-natured persons threw pebbles at _me_ a while ago, but I remained calm. That is, until I was dragged across the sand in a brutal manner, and had to beg for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Even then I was a credit to Overton and the Sempers. I neither writhed nor howled."

"Well, we're even now," declared Sara. "I'll foreswear pebbles if you'll abolish the sand habit."

"I have always liked to look at Emma from a distance," said Julia Emerson, hastily sliding to the extreme edge of the group.

"Listen, ye babblers," called Elfreda, "to the voice of the oracle.

Let's leave old Father Ocean to himself and get into our everyday clothes. If we are going on a picnic, we'd better start. We can be on our way in an hour from now, if we hurry. To-night after dinner we'll all take a last melancholy stroll down here to find out what the wild waves are saying."

"Wild waves," jeered Emma Dean. "Did you ever see the ocean smile more sweetly, the deceitful old thing. When one stops to think of the s.h.i.+ps and people it gobbles up every year one feels like cutting its acquaintance."

"It is the greatest of all mysteries," said Arline Thayer, her eyes fixed dreamily on the limitless expanse of water.