Blue Bonnet in Boston Part 41

"Kitty's a dear," she said; "and the prettiest girl you almost ever saw--but I'm fond of all the girls."

Silence fell between them as they walked homeward. Suddenly Blue Bonnet gave a little joyful cry.

"Annabel! I know what I'm going to do! Alec said that Uncle Cliff was coming at Easter. I'll write to him this very afternoon and ask him to invite the We Are Sevens up here for a day or two just before vacation begins--just the day before--and give us, the Lambs and the We Are Sevens, a party. Maybe a matinee party with a dinner at the Copley Plaza afterward."

"Oh, Blue Bonnet! _Do_ you think he would? That would be heavenly."

"He'd adore to do it. I am sure."

Sunday afternoon at Miss North's was given over almost entirely to letter writing, and Blue Bonnet was not long in getting a note off to Uncle Cliff. She was a little ashamed of its sc.r.a.ppiness as she read it over; but what it lacked in news and length was more than made up in affection. It fairly throbbed with love and anxiety to see him, and she had plead the cause of the We Are Sevens with the eloquence of a young Webster.

"He'll never be able to resist that plea," she said to Annabel, who had brought her writing materials into Blue Bonnet's room. "He'll just _have_ to come when he gets this. I shouldn't wonder if it didn't bring him sooner than he expected."

She sealed the letter and pounded the stamp on with enthusiasm. To think was ever to act with Blue Bonnet, and the next half hour was given over to planning for the coming event--"the gathering of the clans."

"Don't you think that a matinee party with tea afterward at the hotel would be lovely, Annabel? Then dinner about seven o'clock. We might do something in the evening, too."

Annabel thought it would be well to consult the Lambs on so important a subject, which necessitated an impromptu meeting in the "Angels'

Retreat." The tea bell had sounded before the meeting adjourned.

Sunday evening tea was another delight at Miss North's. There was a pleasant informality about it. It consisted of hot rolls and cocoa, a salad and cake, with marshmallows which were to be toasted later in the living-room at the big fireplace.

For an hour after tea the girls sat in the firelight, visiting. Often a speaker was provided for the evening's entertainment--a celebrity, if possible. The best in the way of culture for her girls was Miss North's rule.

To-night the girls were all present. They had dressed with care in compliment to an expected guest; a noted traveler who was to tell them of foreign lands and customs. Miss North viewed them with pleasure. They were her children--a family to be proud of.

A pleasanter scene could scarcely be imagined. The girls stood in groups chatting; on the hearth rug; in the deep chairs--a picture of youthful loveliness.

"Will you look at Joy Cross!" Ruth Biddle said to Sue Hemphill. "What has got into her? She's been fixed up that way for several days; blue bow--hair curled--"

The close proximity of Joy at that moment stopped the sentence. Blue Bonnet Ashe was bringing her into the group and Annabel held Joy in animated conversation.

"Let's all sit together," Blue Bonnet said, and Joy sat down with the rest. Although but two weeks had pa.s.sed since Joy's trouble, she was much changed. A little spot of color burned in her usually pale cheeks; and--there was no doubt about it--the blue bow _was_ becoming. It brought out unsuspected possibilities in the white skin, and cast a deeper tone to the faded eyes. Joy was happy; and the happiness showed in every change of expression.

It had not been an easy thing for Blue Bonnet and Annabel Jackson to show Joy the many little kindnesses which they had shown her, without becoming patronizing; but they had--somehow--to their credit; and Joy, for the first time in her life, was beginning to taste the sweets of companions.h.i.+p.

Annabel Jackson was a born leader. When she put the stamp of approval on anything, it went; and when she began to stop Joy in halls and recitation rooms for a moment's chat--a bit of advice on lessons--Joy's stock took sudden flight. If Annabel thought her worth while, she surely must be; and Blue Bonnet's interest, added to Annabel's, was the needed touch to bring Joy into the social life of the school.

Not until there was an exodus toward the pipe organ, about which the girls gathered to sing, did Ruth have a chance to express her opinion of Joy's sudden popularity.

"_I_ don't intend to take her up," she said haughtily, lagging behind with Sue. "She isn't our kind at all. I don't know what's got into Annabel lately. She's perfectly crazy about Blue Bonnet Ashe--completely under her thumb."

"Lots of us in the same boat, Ruth. I'm quite crazy about her myself."

"Well, she needn't think she can run the school. She's behind this Joy Cross vogue. She's not going to ram her down my throat. The Biddles usually choose their own society."

Sue looked at Ruth sharply.

"You've sort of got an idea that name gives you special dispensation, haven't you, Ruth--kind of a free pa.s.sport to the upper realms? Well, forget it! It hasn't. It wouldn't get you any farther with folks that count than Cross, or Ashe, or Hemphill. It's what you bring to your name; not what it brings to you. It's like what Miss North said the other day about life. It isn't what you get out of it, but what you put into it that counts."

Ruth's lip curled. It takes more than a rebuke to make a democrat out of an aristocrat.

"Nevertheless I shall retain the privilege of choosing my a.s.sociates and not having them thrust upon me."

"That's all right, Ruth, but when you get lonesome, come on back into the fold. I've an idea that Joy Cross is going to make a place for herself in the school whether you like it or not. Blue Bonnet seems to have got at her in some way lately, and she says she's really quite likable! She says Joy makes her think of the late chrysanthemums in her grandmother's garden. They never get ready to bloom until everything else is gone; but you appreciate them all the more after they've weathered the frost and come out brave and brilliant. Funny idea, isn't it? Blue Bonnet has such queer ideas. I think she's very unusual."

Ruth, still annoyed, found a place by the organ, while Sue slipped over by Joy, and putting her arm through hers carelessly, joined in the hymns with interest and fervor.

CHAPTER XIV

SETTLEMENT WORK

Blue Bonnet had been a pupil at Miss North's school a little over three months now, and although she had had her share of fun and frolic, the greater portion of the time had been spent in serious work.

She excelled in her music, and the report that went home from the music department monthly pleased Miss Clyde very much. Blue Bonnet was living up to her aunt's expectations in this part of her work, and Miss Clyde, like many others, was not averse to having her dreams come true.

Grandmother was pleased also, and counted the days until she should hear for herself just how much real improvement Blue Bonnet had made. The rigorous New England winter had prevented Mrs. Clyde from visiting Boston as much as she would have liked, and as Miss North objected to many week-ends at Woodford, her visits with Blue Bonnet had been of necessity limited.

Miss Clyde had been more fortunate, and running up to the city often, returned with splendid reports of Blue Bonnet.

"And her manners, Mother, are almost unbelievably improved. I really had quite a shock the other day," she confessed after her last visit.

"Several teachers told me that Blue Bonnet would undoubtedly have received the medal for the greatest general improvement at the end of the year had she entered in September. I wish you might have seen her enter the reception-room. Her whole bearing is changed. She has dropped that hoydenish, tomboyish manner that was so offensive when she returned from the ranch. She neither waved, nor called to me from the head of the stairs as she came down, but positively glided into the room with ease and distinction."

"Blue Bonnet is growing into a young woman now," Mrs. Clyde answered.

"She is leaving the hoydenish period. She will emerge, b.u.t.terfly-like, from her chrysalis. I have never doubted it for a moment. There is a time for all things."

"Something else pleased me, too," Miss Clyde went on. "Blue Bonnet seems to have made desirable friends among teachers and pupils. They all like her--even that odd room-mate, whom, you remember, she was predestined to hate. I confess I thought her rather impossible, myself; but Miss Cross seems to have blossomed out suddenly, and Blue Bonnet says--to use her own expression, 'she is not half bad.'"

"Does Blue Bonnet still call her 'the cross?'" Mrs. Clyde asked, smiling broadly.

"Yes, and declares that she has taken up 'her cross' and is 'bearing it cheerfully'--whatever that may mean. Blue Bonnet loves figures of speech. Her comparisons are really very amusing sometimes. I hardly know what to make of her sudden tolerance of this girl; whether it is a case of propinquity, duty, or over-generousness on Blue Bonnet's part. At any rate, she seems to have espoused the cause of the cross, n.o.bly."

"Bless her dear heart," Mrs. Clyde murmured Softly. "The world will never end for Blue Bonnet at her own doorstep. She has a real genius for friends.h.i.+p. I am glad she finds her room-mate pleasant. I feared from her letters that she never would."

"Something has happened to change her mind," Miss Clyde said shrewdly.

"The girl's personality never appealed to Blue Bonnet. I rather suspect that Blue Bonnet feels that she needs friends. She has been very unpopular, I understand."

Miss Clyde, unconsciously, had put her finger upon the exact cause of Blue Bonnet's sudden conversion. Joy did need friends. To Blue Bonnet, this need was tragic--pathetic; and she straightway set about bringing Joy into the charmed circle where she, herself, had been welcomed with open arms. It had not been easy work; perhaps she would not have accomplished her aim had she not taken Mrs. White into her confidence.

Mrs. White was executive as well as musical. She was tactful, too, and under her guidance Joy was gradually steered into a port that became a haven; a refuge from her old self, her youthful environment.

Another interest had come into Blue Bonnet's life. One that bade fair to rival all others, and pave the way for future usefulness. It was the Settlement work which the "Lambs" engaged in. Her first visit to the poorer districts filled her with horror. She had never known anything about real poverty. A kind fate had lifted her above all that; and when she went for the first time into a day nursery, a free kindergarten, and was told something of the homes the children came from, their limitation, their actual needs, tears blinded her eyes and her throat ached with the lumps that rose there. For a moment she was speechless.

It was the home for crippled children that interested her most. The girls at Miss North's took turns going there to amuse the children. They cut paper dolls, carried toys, and made themselves generally useful during the brief hour they spent within the wards. Blue Bonnet soon began to look forward to these visits, and begged Miss North to allow her to go as often as possible.