Part 21 (2/2)
”You haven't wounded me. It isn't that. But I--I--don't seem to know where I'm at. No one has ever spoken to me in this way. I'm often scolded and lectured and stormed at, but no one cares enough to make me understand. Please show me how. Please tell me. It seems like a glimpse into a different world.”
”First let me dry the tears I have been the cause of bringing to your eyes--if my boys see traces of them I shall be brought to an account.
Then we will remedy what might have done harm.”
As she spoke Mrs. Harold took a bit of absorbent cotton, soaked it in rose water and bathed the lovely soft, brown eyes. Juno smiled up at her, then nestled against her, again.
”My new little foster-daughter,” said Mrs. Harold, kissing the velvety cheeks.
”'It's beauty, truly blent, whose red and white, Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.'
Keep it so--it needs no aid--we shall learn to know each other better.
You will come again--yes, often--and where I can help, count upon me--always? And now I'll play maid.”
Ten minutes later when Juno entered the living-room, an exquisite bit of Venetian lace filled in the V at the back of the bodice; the softest white maline edged the front, and when, she raised her train a lace petticoat which any girl would have p.r.o.nounced ”too sweet for words”
floated like sea-foam about her slender ankles.
No comments were made and all set forth for the hop. And was the experiment a red letter one? Well!
CHAPTER XV
IN SPRING TERM
”Well, we all came back to earth with a thud, didn't we? But, was there ever anything like it while it lasted,” ended Natalie with a rapturous sigh.
”And do you suppose there can ever be anything like it again?” Rosalie's tone suggested funeral wreaths and deep mourning, but she continued to brush her hair with Peggy's pretty ivory-handled brush, and pose before Peggy's mirror. The girls were not supposed to dress in each other's rooms but suppositions frequently prove fallacies in a girl's school and these girls had vast mutual interests past and pending.
Several weeks had pa.s.sed since the Christmas holidays, but the joys of that memorable house-party were still very vivid memories and recalled almost daily.
It was the hour before dinner. The girls were expected to be ready promptly at six-fifteen, but dressing hour might more properly have been termed gossiping hour, since it was more often given over to general discussions, Stella's pretty room, or Peggy's and Polly's, proving as a rule a rendezvous. All of the Severndale house party were a.s.sembled at the moment, and two or three others beside, among them Isabel, Helen and Lily Pearl.
”I hope there may be a good many times like it again,” said Peggy warmly. ”It was just lovely to have you all down there and Daddy Neil was the happiest thing I've ever seen. I wish we could have him at Easter, but he will be far away when Easter comes.”
”Shall you go home at Easter?” asked Helen, flickering hopes of an invitation darting across her mind.
”I hardly think so. You see it is only two weeks off and the Little Mother has not said anything about it, has she, Polly?”
”No, in her last letter she said she thought she'd come down to Was.h.i.+ngton for Easter week and stop at the Willard, but it is not settled yet. I'd rather be in Annapolis at Easter and go for some of our long rides. Wasn't it fun to have Shashai and Silver Star back there during our visit! I believe they and Tzaritza and Jess had the very time of their young--and old--lives. And wasn't Tzaritza regal with Rhody?”
”It was the funniest thing I've ever seen,” laughed Stella. ”That dog acted exactly like a royal princess entertaining a happy-go-lucky jackie. Rhody's life on board the _Rhode Island_ since you and Ralph rescued him seems to have been one gay and festive experience for a Boston bull pup.”
”It surely has,” concurred Polly. ”Snap says he's just wise to everything, and did you ever see anything so absurd as those clown tricks the jackies taught him?”
”I think you are all perfectly wonderful people, dogs and horses included,” was Rosalie's climax of eulogy, if rather peculiar and comprehensive.
”Well, we had one royal good time and we are not likely to forget it either. Peggy, weren't you petrified when you struck 'eight bells' at the hop, for the death of the old year? Goodness, when those lights began to go out, and everybody stopped dancing I felt so queer. And when 'taps' sounded little s.h.i.+very creeps went all up and down my spine, and you struck eight bells so beautifully! But reveille drove me almost crazy. When the lights flashed on again I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry I was so nervous,” was Natalie's reminiscence.
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