Part 15 (1/2)
”h.e.l.lo, Madeline,” cried Lucile Merrifield, spying the new arrival.
”When did you get back? Come and see the puppets with me. They say your show is great.”
”It all looks good to me,” said Madeline, ”but--is there a top to spin?”
Lucile laughed and nodded. ”That fat Miss Austin has taken in two dollars already at five cents a spin. She says she used to love making cheeses, and that she hasn't had such a good time since she grew up.”
”That's where I want to go first,” said Madeline decisively; but on her way to the tops the doll counter beguiled her.
”Betty Wales,” she declared, ”when you curl in your lips and stare straight ahead you look just like the only doll I ever wanted. I saw her in a window on Fifth Avenue, and the one time in my life that I ever cried was when daddy wouldn't buy her for me. Where's Eleanor?”
”I don't know,” said Betty happily. ”She was here a minute ago playing for the dolls' pantomime. But she's all right. Everybody has been thanking her and praising the pantomime, and she's so pleased about it all. She told me that she had felt all this year as if everybody was pointing her out as a disgrace to the cla.s.s and the college, and that she was beginning to think that her whole life was spoiled. And now--”
”Why, Madeline Ayres,” cried Katherine Kittredge hurrying up to them, her hair disheveled and her hands very black indeed. ”I'm awfully glad you've come. There's a cla.s.s meeting to-morrow to decide on the senior play and I want--”
”You want tidying up,” laughed Madeline. ”What in the world have you been doing?”
”Being half of a woolly lamb,” explained Katherine. ”The other half couldn't come back this evening, so Emily has been selling us--or it, whichever you please--at auction. Now listen, Madeline. You don't know anything about this play business.”
Madeline had heard Katherine's argument, spun Miss Austin, and seen the ”Alice in Wonderland” animals dance before she found Eleanor, and by that time an interview with Jean Eastman had prepared her for the hurt look in Eleanor's eyes and the little quiver in her voice, as she welcomed Madeline back to Harding.
Jean was one of the few seniors who had had no active part in the toy-shop. ”So I'm patronizing everything regardless,” she exclaimed, sauntering up to Madeline and holding out a bag of fudge. ”It's a decided hit, isn't it? Polly says the other cla.s.ses are in despair at the idea of getting up anything that will take half as well.”
”It's certainly a lovely show,” said Madeline, trying the fudge.
”And a big feather in Eleanor Watson's cap,” added Jean carelessly. ”She always was the cleverest thing. I'd a lot rather be chairman of the play committee, or even a member of it, for that matter, than toastmistress.
I suppose you know that there's a cla.s.s-meeting to-morrow.”
”Have you said that to Eleanor?” asked Madeline coldly.
”Oh, I gave her my congratulations on her prospects,” said Jean with a shrug. ”We're old friends, you know. We understand each other perfectly.”
Madeline's eyes flashed. ”It won't be the least use to tell you so,” she said, ”but lobbying for office is not the chief occupation of humanity as you seem to think. Neither Eleanor Watson nor any of her friends has thought anything about her being put on the play committee. I made the mistake once of supposing that our cla.s.s as a whole was capable of appreciating the stand she's taken, and I shan't be likely to forget that I was wrong. But this affair was entirely her idea, and she deserves the credit for it.”
”Oh, indeed,” said Jean quickly. ”I suppose you didn't send telegrams--”
But Madeline, her face white with anger was half way across the big hall.
Jean watched her tumultuous progress with a meaning smile. ”Well, I've fixed that little game,” she reflected. ”If they did intend to put her up, they won't dare to now. They'll be afraid of seeing me do the Blunderbuss's act with variations. She'd have been elected fast enough, after this, and there isn't a girl in the cla.s.s who could do half as well on that committee. But as for having her and that insufferable little Betty Wales on, when I shall be left off, I simply couldn't stand it.”
Madeline found Betty taking off her doll's dress by dim candle-light, which she hoped would escape the eagle eye of the night-watchman. ”I've come to tell you that the wires are all down again,” she began, and went on to tell the story of Jean's carefully timed insinuations.
”I almost believe that the Blunderbuss was the tool of the Hill crowd,”
she said angrily. ”At any rate they used her while she served, and now they're ready to take a hand themselves.”
Betty stared at her in solemn silence. ”What an awful lot it costs to lose your reputation,” she said sadly.
”And it costs a good deal to be everybody's guardian angel, doesn't it, dearie?” Madeline said affectionately. ”I oughtn't to have bothered you, but I seem to have made a dreadful mess of things so far.”