Part 24 (1/2)

And then they would settle themselves to watch the stage and listen to the music for a while.

”It's all good, but what I'm looking forward to is this,” said Ashley Dwight, pointing out the Glee Club's last number on his program. ”I can't wait to hear 'The Fames of Miss Ames.'”

”The what?” asked Betty, consulting her card. ”Why, Georgia Ames, is it about you? Did you know they were going to have it?”

Georgia nodded. ”The leader came and asked me if I cared. She seemed to think it would take, so I told her to go ahead. But I didn't realize that this concert was such a big thing,” she added mournfully, ”and I didn't know I was going to sit in a box.”

”Pretty grand to be sitting in a box with the celebrity of the evening, isn't it, Ashley?” said Tom.

And Ashley said something in a low voice to Georgia, which made her laugh and blush and call him ”too silly for anything.”

Finally, after the Mandolin Club had played its lovely ”Gondolier's Song,” and the Banjo Club its amusing and inevitable ”Frogville Echoes,”

the Glee Club girls came out to sing ”The Fames of Miss Ames,” which a clever junior had written and a musical soph.o.m.ore had set to a catchy melody. A little, short-haired girl with a tremendous alto voice sang the verses, which dealt in witty, flippant fas.h.i.+on with the career of the two Georgias, and the whole club came in strong on the chorus.

”And now she's come to life, (Her double's here).

And speculation's rife, (It's all so queer).

The ghost a.s.sociations, Hold long confabulations, And the gaiety of nations Is very much enhanced by Georgia dear!”

It was only shameless doggerel, but it took. Topical songs always take well at Harding, and never had there been such a unique subject as this one. Between the verses the girls clapped and laughed, nodded at Georgia's box, and whispered explanations to their escorts; and when at last the soloist answered their vociferous demands for more with a smiling head-shake and the convincing statement that ”there wasn't any more--yet,” they laughed and made her sing it all over.

This time Georgia asked one of the men to change seats with her, and slipped quietly into the most secluded corner of the box, behind Betty's chair, declaring that she really couldn't stand it to be stared at any longer. She looked positively pretty, Betty thought, having a chance for the first time to get a good look at her. The sparkle in her eyes and the soft color in her cheeks that the excitement and embarra.s.sment had put there were very becoming. So was the low dress, in spite of the fact that Georgia was undoubtedly right in considering herself a ”s.h.i.+rt-waist girl.” Her neck wasn't particularly thin, or if it was the lovely old chain that she wore twisted twice around it kept it from seeming so.

Betty turned to ask her something about the song and noticed the pendant that hung from her chain. It was of antique pattern--an amethyst in a ring of little pearls, with an odd quaint setting of dull gold. It looked familiar somehow. It was--yes, it was just like Nita Reese's lost pin--the one that belonged to her great grandmother and that had disappeared just before the Belden House play--one of the first thefts to be laid to the account of the college robber. Only, instead of a pin this was a pendant, fastened to the chain by a tiny gold ring. That was the only difference, for--yes, even the one little pearl that Nita had lost of the circle was missing here.

Betty didn't hear Georgia's answer to her question. She turned back to the stage, which swayed sickeningly as she watched it. At last the song ended, and while she clapped mechanically with the rest she gave herself a little shake, and told herself sternly that she was being a goose, that it was absurd, preposterous, even wicked--this thought that had flashed into her head. Nita's pin wasn't the only one of its kind; there might be hundreds just like it. Georgia's great grandmother probably had had one too.

Betty talked very fast on the way up to the Belden. She was thankful that Tom and his friend were going back to New Haven that night and would have time for only the hastiest of good-byes.

”See you later, Miss Ames,” Ashley Dwight called back as he ran down the steps after Tom.

”He's asked me to the prom, Betty. Think of that!” explained Georgia, her eyes s.h.i.+ning.

”How--nice,” said Betty faintly. ”I'm awfully tired, aren't you?”

”Tired!” repeated Georgia gaily. ”Not a bit. I should like to begin all over again this minute. I'm hot though. We walked pretty fast up the hill.” She threw back her coat and unwound the scarf that was twisted over her hair and around her throat. It caught on the amethyst pendant and Georgia pulled it away carefully, while Betty watched in fascinated silence, trying to make up her mind to speak. She might never have a good chance again. Ordinarily Georgia wore no jewelry,--not a pin or a ring. She had certainly never worn this pendant before at Harding. It would be so easy and so sensible to say something about it now and set her uncomfortable thoughts at rest.

Betty wet her lips nervously, made an heroic effort, and began.

”What a lovely chain that is, Georgia.” She hoped her voice sounded more natural to Georgia than it did to herself. ”Is it a family heirloom?”

Georgia put up her hand absently, and felt of the chain. ”Oh, that,--yes, it is. It really belongs to mother, but she let me bring it here. She's awfully fond of old jewelry, and she has a lot. I hate all kinds, but this covers my bones so beautifully.”

”The pendant is lovely too,” put in Betty hastily, as Georgia moved off toward her room. ”Is that old too?”

”I don't know,” said Georgia stiffly. ”That isn't a family thing. It was given to me--by somebody I don't like.”

”The somebody must like you pretty well,” said Betty, trying to speak lightly, ”to give you such a stunning present.”

Georgia did not answer this, except by saying, ”Good-night. I believe I am tired,” as she opened her door.