Part 16 (2/2)
”Oh, I am not depending upon my visual sight for my inspiration, Captain Stewart. Don't you think the study of one's fellow beings intensely interesting?'
”Yes, it's a heap cheerier inside the car than outside on this confoundedly soggy day,” answered Captain Stewart, preparing to withdraw from an even more depressing atmosphere than that beyond the car windows, by turning to Rosalie, whose eyes were commencing to dance. But Isabel had no idea of foregoing an opportunity to make an impression, little guessing the sort of one she was in reality making.
”Yes, it is exceedingly damp today, but do you think we ought to allow externals to affect us?” she asked.
”Eh? What? I'm afraid you're getting beyond my bearings. Lead won't touch bottom.”
Isabel smiled indulgently: One must be tolerant with a person forced to spend his life within the limited bounds of a s.h.i.+p.
”Miss Sturgis, our instructor in sociology, advises us to be very observing and to take notes of everything unusual. You know we shall graduate next year and time pa.s.ses _so_ swiftly. It seems only yesterday that I entered Columbia Heights School, and here Christmas is upon us. I have so little time left in which to accomplish all I feel I should, and I could not graduate after I'd pa.s.sed seventeen. I'd _die_ of mortification. And, oh, that fact holds a suggestion. Pardon me if I make a note of it, and--and--_how_ do you spell accomplished, Captain Stewart? I really have so little time to give to etymology.”
For one second Captain Stewart looked at the girl as though he thought she might possibly be running him. He was more accustomed to the fun-loving, joking girl than to this ”cellar-grown turnip” as he mentally stigmatized her. Then the little imps in Rosalie's eyes proved his undoing:
”I'm afraid I'm no good as an English prof. Reckon I'd spell it akomplish. Sounds as good as any other way. You'll know what it means when you overhaul it anyhow. But here we are at the Junction. Pipe overside, bo's'n,” he cried to Peggy.
Good-bys were hastily spoken and Captain Stewart soon had his party hurrying across the platform to the Annapolis car. As he settled Rosalie in her seat he asked:
”How many Miss Boylstons have you got at Columbia Heights?”
”Only one, thank the powers!” answered Rosalie fervently.
It was nearly six when the electric cars rolled up to the rear of Wilmot Hall and the girls saw Mrs. Harold, and a number of the mids.h.i.+pmen of the first cla.s.s lined up and eagerly watching for the particular ”she”
who would spend the holidays in Annapolis.
A mob of squabbling boys made a mad rush for the car steps in the hope of securing suitcases to carry into the hotel, and had not the mids.h.i.+pmen swept them aside, further progress for the car's pa.s.sengers would have been barred. The hoodlums of the town seem to spring from the very ground upon the arrival of a car at Wilmot and certainly make life a burden for travelers trying to descend the car steps.
There was only time for general greetings just then, as all hurried into Wilmot to meet old friends and new ones, Mrs. Howland, Constance, Snap, Gail and Mr. Harold having already arrived.
Pending the departure for Severndale, Mrs. Harold had, at Captain Stewart's request, engaged three extra rooms, thus practically preempting her entire corridor for her guests, and a jollier party it would have been hard to find than the one escorted down to the big dining-room that evening by ”The Executive Officer,” as Captain Stewart called Mrs. Harold, who was acting as chaperone for his party.
Directly dinner ended Captain Stewart and Commander Harold left upon some mysterious mission which threw the girls into a wild flutter of curiosity.
”Oh, what is it all about?” demanded Rosalie.
”Can't tell one single thing until Daddy Neil says I may,” laughed Peggy.
”Does Polly know?” asked Natalie.
Peggy nodded.
”You'll have to bottle up your impatience for an hour or two. Go to your rooms and shake out your pretties for tomorrow night's frolic, for I am going to 'pipe down' early tonight. When you have finished stowing your lockers come back to the sitting-room and we'll have a quiet, cozy time until our commanding officers return. Constance, Gail and Snap must make a call this evening, but I'm not going to let anyone claim my time. It all belongs to my girls,” said Mrs. Harold gaily, as she and Mrs.
Howland seated themselves before the open fire.
The girls hurried away to do her bidding, for it had been decided to remain at Wilmot until after the Christmas hop, all going out to Severndale by a special car when the dance was over, Harrison, Mammy and Jerome, under Mrs. Harold's tactful generals.h.i.+p, having made all preparations for the big house party.
In a few moments the girls returned from unpacking their suitcases.
<script>