Judy of York Hill Part 10

"A teacher?" chorused the other two in surprise. "Why, Judy, what a funny idea!" said Sally May.

"I don't see why it's funny," Judith objected. "I think it would be splendid to be like Miss Marlowe or head of a school like Miss Meredith."

"Well, you'll never get married if you are a teacher," said Sally May with finality; "at any rate, not for ages and ages."

"Why not?" said Judy.

This was a poser.

"W-e-l-l--you'd have to learn so much, you see."

Judith laughed. "I hadn't thought of that, but I thought you were going to be an artist," she added teasingly.

"But not all my life," expostulated Sally May, and Judith and Nancy laughed to think of Sally May's picture of a hard-working artist.

Judith considered the matter of her future seriously as she dressed for dinner.

It might be nice to be married--think how lonely she and Mummy would be without Daddy--but of course she couldn't marry Daddy; and then she laughed at herself as she remembered Daddy's story of the small girl who sobbed that she didn't ever want to get married because, as she couldn't have daddy, she'd have to marry a perfect stranger.

"Perhaps some one like Tim would be nice," thought Judith, and after the fas.h.i.+on of most sixteen-year-olds she began to weave a shadowy romance with a Prince Charming as its central figure. Tim had walked to the Chateau with them this morning, and although he had not condescended to talk beyond the merest civilities, this silence had merely served to enhance his romantic value in Judith's eyes. She wondered what he was thinking of. Perhaps he was living over again a battle in the clouds--as a matter of fact, Tim was wondering why he hadn't received a certain letter which he had hoped for on Christmas Day. Judith hoped he would like her new frock, and wondered how many dances he would ask her for on New Year's night.

The Nairns were a musical family. Nancy always went to the piano and played for her father after dinner, sometimes Mrs. Nairn joined in with her violin, and to-night Tim appeared with his 'cello.

Judith loved to attend symphony concerts and the tuning-up of the orchestra never failed to give her delicious thrills, but she had never had a speaking acquaintance--so to speak--with a 'cello before this, and the beautiful mellow tones delighted her more than anything she had ever heard before. As she undressed that night she revised her plans for the future. She would devote herself to music and study hard so that when they were married she might be her husband's accompanist. "On wings of music" they would soar, and when they did come back to earth it must be to a bungalow, a dear little grey-stone bungalow. She spent a happy time planning the furnis.h.i.+ng of her music-room and fell asleep before she had decided on the respective merits of old oak and mahogany.

Next day began with "Happy New Year" and ended with the jolliest of family parties. All the members of the house-party spent a busy day, for Mrs. Nairn had plenty for the two maids to do in the kitchen. Sally May was discovered to have a talent for decorating, so she and Jack and Tim hung evergreens and holly and placed ferns and flowers where they would show to the best advantage, while Nancy and Judith whisked about with dusters and brushes.

"Music in the living-room, dancing in the drawing-room and hall, and cards upstairs in Mother's sitting-room," said Nancy as they set the small tables. "That's what we always have, and then everybody dances a Sir Roger de Coverly--you should see Uncle Phil and Aunt Maria dancing--and afterwards we have supper."

They had a picnic tea at six o'clock in the sitting-room as the maids were arranging the supper-table in the dining-room, and then came the fun of dressing.

Judith had kept her new silver frock as a great surprise, and now it was thrilling to burst into Nancy's room in all her new finery. Nancy and Sally May said it was "perfectly sweet," and even Jack, "who never notices" (according to Nancy), looked and whistled his admiration as Judith came downstairs, her eyes s.h.i.+ning, her cheeks glowing with excitement, and her pretty frock swis.h.i.+ng about her in a highly gratifying manner.

Guests were arriving at an unfas.h.i.+onably early hour, since it was largely a family party, and Judith was introduced to a bewildering number of cousins and cousins' cousins and aunts and uncles.

But where was Tim? He had not been home for tea, and although Judith listened and watched there was no sign of him.

"Tim went out early this afternoon to pay calls and he isn't back yet,"

Sally May informed Judith. "I think Mrs. Nairn is rather worried about him."

The younger set had been dancing for an hour or more and Jack had proved an attentive host, but Judith was still half unconsciously looking for Tim when suddenly she saw him in the doorway with an exquisitely pretty girl beside him. Perhaps it was Tim's radiant look which he was making no effort to hide, perhaps it was his partner's radiant looks which she was trying to hide, but however it was Judith had the quick conviction that this was a very special partner. The newcomer was slim and graceful, and Judith saw with sudden envy that her hair was like spun gold and her eyes as blue as forget-me-nots.

Tim danced with no one else, and in spite of Jack's attentions and no lack of interesting partners, Judith began to feel a little disconsolate. However, it was hard not to be merry at such a merry party; there was happiness in the very air.

The Sir Roger was a great success, and Uncle Phil, aged seventy-two, upheld his reputation as the gayest dancer of them all.

At supper-time Nancy and Judith were helping to serve the little tables in the library when Judith saw Tim with his partner come in and go over to Mr. and Mrs. Nairn. Nancy suddenly squeezed Judith's arm.

"Oh, Judy, Judy, they're engaged! I'm sure they are! Look at Tim! We were pretty sure he was in love with her, and Lois is such a darling!"

Then she rushed over to put her arms around Lois, and Judith was left alone feeling bereaved of husband, home, and career at one cruel stroke.

"The nicest party I ever was at," said Sally May enthusiastically as the three said good-night after a long discussion of the evening's fun, "and I think you looked nicer than anybody else, Judy. I do hope you won't get conceited about the way you look in that new frock. I know I should."

"The nicest party I ever was at," thought Judith before she fell asleep, "and the very nicest people. Jack is a brick--he's been awfully kind to me. I wish I was half as pretty as Lois Selkirk. What _would_ it feel like to be engaged?--I guess it would be exciting! However, then I wouldn't be going back to York Hill--and that will be exciting next term and no mistake. Oh, how glad I am that I've got Nancy!"

CHAPTER IX

THE ANONYMOUS LETTER

WHAT fun it was to get back to York Hill!

As Judith stood in the front hall waiting her turn to sign the register, she almost laughed aloud as she remembered how, standing in this very spot, she had clung desperately to Aunt Nell five short months ago. How different it was now! She could hardly wait to get over to South, and see Nancy, and Catherine, and Jane, and Josephine, and all the rest of them.

She peeped into the drawing-room, and there sat a stiff, solemn little figure--a new girl, no doubt--and, yes, here was Eleanor bringing Peggy Forrest to introduce to the newcomer. And as Judith ran across to her own house, she felt a warm glow of grat.i.tude that Miss Meredith had chosen Nancy to be her "pilot" during those first difficult days.

Cries of welcome greeted her in the corridor.

"Hi, there, Judibus! Had a good time?"

"Sally May was looking for you, Judy."

"Good old Scrooge!"

"Merry Christmas, everybody--Happy New Year to all the world," quoted Judith promptly, seizing her letters and making her way through the crowd around Miss Marlowe's door down to the good old "Jolly Susan" and Nancy.

Yes, there was Nancy's pretty yellow head, and in another minute she was looking into Nancy's merry eyes and trying to answer three questions at once and say "hullo" to Josephine and Jane and Sally May.

Judith was the last to arrive, so they all crowded into her room and sampled Aunt Nell's Christmas cake--thoughtfully provided for the occasion--and the big box of chocolates which Josephine's brother had sent.

Five tongues wagged merrily in spite of cake and candy, for there were endless things to tell--Josephine had been to her first real dance, and Jane had been down to New York with Phyllis Lovell, and you may be sure that Nancy and Judith were not behind the others in their accounts of "perfectly gorgeous" times. And when Catherine joined them and added her tale of a gay winter fete in Winnipeg, Judith felt that no home-coming _could_ be happier.

"Oh, isn't it nice to _belong!_" said Judith to herself as she dressed for supper. "I wonder how that new girl is getting on--I guess she's in our form when Eleanor got Peggy for her--I wish I could do something to make her feel at home--"

Josephine's head appeared in the door and she whispered mysteriously, "Come on down to the common room when you've finished."

"What _do_ you think," she said when Judith joined her, "that mean Genevieve Singleton has been trying to get in here in Jane's room! Jane said once at the beginning of last term that she wished she was down in Peggy Forrest's cubicles, but that was ages ago. Genevieve went to Miss Marlowe and said that Jane wanted to change her room, and may she please have Jane's room, as she hasn't been very well during the holidays and her mother doesn't want her to climb stairs. Miss Marlowe sent for Jane, and you should have heard her when she came back! Genevieve is in Catherine's room now telling her how heartbroken she is, I suppose.

Silly thing, I wish she would try holding _my_ hand."

Judith laughed at Josephine's disgusted expression, and blushed a little as she remembered her own foolishness about Catherine.

"Genevieve's queer, isn't she? I can't make her out--you remember how crazy she was about Helen, and Helen didn't seem to like her a bit."

"She's a silly owl," said Josephine decidedly, "but--my word--wasn't she a dandy Malvolio?"