CHAPTER X

She was putting the room in order, and he stepped to her side as she stood by the table. "Christine, are matters all right at last between you and Elizabeth?"

"Yes, John, I think that they are."

"It is all my fault that they have ever been any other way. I was selfish, at first, in my fear lest you would ask me to postpone our wedding day; then, afterward, when I saw what a grave mistake I had made, I was too cowardly to take the blame myself and explain matters to the child as I should have done. There was a sort of tacit deceit on my part, Christine, for which I have paid very bitterly. You have made our home beautiful, but, because of my folly, there has been that one jarring note in it."

"It is all right now."

"But no thanks to me. However, I am going to have a talk with Beth yet tonight. I shall not excuse myself; what is the worst thing in my own eyes, Christine, has been my cowardice in not facing the subject fairly long ago and telling Elizabeth that you were not in the least open to censure. The fault was all mine, but I have left you to bear the blame."

This was so absolutely true that Mrs. Newby made no reply, but she looked at her husband with a very forgiving smile as she laid her hand on his.

"You are an angel, Christine. Some women would never forgive me."

She laughed a little tremulously. "I know better, my dear, than to expect perfection from a poor, frail man. I am not an angel myself, as you know very well."

"I don't know it at all," he retorted, bending to kiss her. "I hear Elizabeth in the drawing-room. I shall see her before she goes upstairs.

Christine, you are perfectly happy now?"

"No," she replied promptly, and evidently to his surprise.

"Then tell me the trouble at once."

"I am worried about Roy. He is too young to be sent away to school. I presume it answers very well with some children, but he needs me."

"But the public schools are so far away from us, dear, and I thought that he was hardly strong enough to stand the strain of the two sessions there. I did not know that you objected to his going. You said nothing, you know, to that effect."

"You seemed so very sure that it was the right thing to do, and I did not know but it might turn out better than I feared. But he dreads the going back unspeakably. I found him crying about it last night, and I cannot consent to his return."

"Then he certainly shall not go," Mr. Newby returned promptly. "But what do you propose to do with him?"

"He can have some private lessons here at home. I shall see that he has enough to do, but not too much. Boys of that age need a mother, John."

"I presume so," Mr. Newby returned ruefully. "So far as I can see, I have made a mess of about everything that I have attempted to manage."

"Don't slander yourself; I would not let anyone else say that of you, most a.s.suredly, and, besides, it is not true, John."

"I am not at all sure of that, Christine." Then he kissed her again, and went in search of Beth, with whom he had a long talk, despite the fact that it was then after midnight.

After all, Beth did not return with Dolly. Mrs. Newby frankly owned that she should feel very anxious if Beth went off to college before her hands had healed, and Beth found herself the next morning watching her stepmother unpack her trunk, while she herself was quite rejoiced over the fact that she should have another week or two at home. So Dolly went back alone.

Beth came ten days later, and Dolly knew, from the expression of contentment and happiness on her face, that she was now enjoying the blessing which a real home and home-love can give.

The term was a busy one for all the girls. They had come to college, for the most part, at least, because they were inspired by a genuine love for knowledge. They had their times of recreation, of course, and their merry evenings in Dolly's room when they again made fudge and tea. Nevertheless, there was plenty of good, hard work done, and the Easter holidays found them all ready for a brief rest again. Mary went home with Dolly, and Beth would stop for one night on her return to college; but now, strangely enough, as it seemed to Beth herself, she could scarcely wait to get home.

Beth had roomed alone since Margery Ainsworth's expulsion, and while Dolly often longed to get permission to move her possessions across the hall, and become Beth's room-mate, she was too truly fond of Mary by this time, to wish to hurt her feelings. So, while the girls often wished that they could room together, it did not seem possible, for the freshmen year at least.

As commencement time drew near, the other students began to make arrangements for the next year. Rooms and room-mates were chosen, and everything gotten into readiness for the ensuing term. Dolly and Beth were talking it over one day, rather lugubriously, in Beth's room.

"All the other girls have settled their plans, and I have been hoping that Mary would say something to me. She must know that we want to room together. Of course, I like her, but not as much as I like you. I am going to speak to her today, Beth."

"I really think that that is the only thing left to be done; but we don't want to hurt her feelings, Dolly."

"I'll try not to do that, Beth, but we must settle affairs."

However, Mary herself introduced the weighty topic that evening, when the three were making tea.

"Of course, I know that you two girls want to room together next year, but I hope that you have not spoken for a room yet."

Dolly flushed a little. "We would not be very apt to make any arrangements without telling you, Mary. You ought to know that we don't do underhanded things."

"Why, Dolly, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings at all, but I supposed you would room together. That was settled long ago, wasn't it? But I have a little scheme, too, that I trust you will like."

"Tell us about it," and Dolly looked a trifle ashamed of her unnecessary heat.

"Aunt Mary has her bedroom and sitting-room, of course, to herself, but opening onto her sitting-room from the other side is a small storeroom.

The president says that I may have that as a bedroom if I wish, and I can use Aunt Mary's sitting-room. They will fit it up this summer. The college needs more rooms, anyway. Now beyond my room are some lovely rooms for you girls, if you want them. What do you say? I don't want to be selfish, but it did seem to me that it might be a lovely plan."

"Lovely? It is grand! Superb! You are a duck and a darling, Mary, to have thought of it."

"Dolly thinks that she will be near Professor Newton now, and she would be willing to room on the roof to effect that," said Beth mischievously.

But Dolly was too elated to mind Beth's teasing. "We'll make all sorts of pretty things this summer. By the way, Beth, where do you intend to spend the summer, anyway?"

"Father says that Mother and I may decide that weighty matter. We have been in the habit of going to the seash.o.r.e, but he fancies that some other place would be better for Roy, although the child is very much stronger since Mother has had him at home under her eye."

"Then, Elizabeth Newby, I will tell you what to do. Mother writes that Father has taken the same cottage at the Thousand Isles that we had last year. You must come there, too. We can have an ideal time. Fred likes fishing and yachting. He will be away part of the summer, but will be with us at first, and a crowd of his friends, too. We can have glorious times! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah!" echoed Beth, for the idea caught her fancy. "We shall certainly do it! Mother will agree to whatever I propose. I wish you were to be there, too, Mary."

But Mary shook her head contentedly. "I know it is much more beautiful than our farm, but I don't believe that even a sight of the Alps would induce me to miss my visit home."

"Of course not. But you see, fortunately, Dolly and I mean to take our families along. What a good time we shall have! I wonder if Professor Newton wouldn't like to make us a little visit? It is beautiful there, and the ride on the steamers, out and in among the islands on a moonlight night, is as lovely as anything in fairyland."

"Go and ask her, Dolly, run right off! Someone else may get her promise first!"

"Be still, Beth! Do you think that she would like to go, Mary?"

"I should certainly suppose that she would be delighted. By the way, as we are only insignificant freshies still, and have no receptions or other grand functions on hand like the other cla.s.ses, she wanted to know if we would spend Tuesday evening with her."

"Will we? Of course we will! When did she ask us? Why didn't you tell us before?"

"She gave me the message this afternoon, and you have really not given me a chance to tell it before."

"What a libel. Say to her that we will go; no doubt of that, is there, Dolly? Let us put on our best gowns and do justice to the occasion. Is anyone else invited, Mary?"

"We are to go immediately after dinner, and a couple of hours later, Miss Hamilton and some fifteen others will arrive. We must help entertain them. You know there is nothing special on hand for Tuesday evening."