"I know I'm just as mean as I can be, and you're the best sister in the world; but oh! I do wish I could ride horse-back, and go to parties and picnics, and have stacks of girls all the time, then those silly students might go to gr--I mean to College, where they belong; for I wouldn't care a cent for the whole lot of them!"

Sara laughed. After all, there was something in this honest, transparent child, from which evil had always seemed to slide, as dust slips from a polished mirror; and she said with conviction,--

"Molly, we'll both do differently. I like people too little, you perhaps too much; but after this I'll cultivate a fondness for them. There is no reason why we shouldn't both go out more, in certain ways, and see something of the life about us. If you will give up these wretched street acquaintances you shall have a party next Sat.u.r.day."

"A party? O Sara!" her eyes dazzling in their delight.

"What kind of one?"

"A tea-party. Let's see, you might have nine girls, besides yourself; that would about fill our table, and I'll wait on you. I presume Morton will be off, as usual, on a geological ramble, so we needn't count him."

"O Sara! and may I have the table trimmed, and flowers all around? and may I make the cake? And oh!" clasping her hands together, "may I have Mr. Hoffstott freeze some cream?"

"Yes," laughed Sara; "yes, every one, if you'll keep your part of the contract."

"Sara," with intense solemnity, "if a student speaks to me I'll look right through him, like this," with a stare of Gorgonian stoniness; "and if he isn't completely silenced, I'll wither him this way," and she swept her sister with a slow, lofty, contemptuous glance, that would have scathed an agent.

"O Molly! Molly!" was all Sara said, as she laughed in spite of herself; but she felt she could trust the child who, with all her faults, had not a grain of slyness or deception in her nature.

CHAPTER XVII.

MOLLY GIVES A PARTY.

The party came off, "according to contract," as Molly observed, and for a few days kept the child in a flutter of delight. Sara purposely left the preparations to her, only giving advice as it was requested; and even she, though so well acquainted with Molly's housekeeping abilities, was astonished at the result. It gave her real respect for the girl to see the method with which she planned it all, from her list of invited guests to her list of grocer's stores, arranged with the probable cost at the side of each article, that Sara might understand just how much money would be needed.

Then the dishes she compounded, after intense calculations over the cook-book, and frequent racings down-stairs to consult with Mrs.

Hoffstott, were really toothsome and delicate; besides being brought about with precision and forethought, so that all might not crowd together at the end.

"Now," she said, Friday night, consulting a much-worn bit of paper, and drawing a long, house-wifely sigh, "now I'm all ready, except the salad, and laying the table, and the decorating. If I only had a screen to put before the range, so that we needn't have the table in here! it will fill up so."

Sara looked up.

"There is one in our cloak-room at the museum. Perhaps the professor would let you take it for this grand occasion, if Morton will bring it home for you."

"Would you, Morton? would you?"

"Oh, I suppose so; anything for peace!" growled the latter, just glancing up from his Burroughs.

"That's a lovely boy! Well, and the flowers--how glad I am they're so cheap, now"--

"Oh, yes, Molly! I forgot to tell you: Mrs. Macon says she has a quant.i.ty of early blossoms in her hot-bed, and you can have a picking from them."

"Now, Sara, if you had forgotten that! How good she is! And I'm to have Mrs. Hoffstott's pretty old china, with the blue forget-me-nots, and-- well, isn't everybody kind, anyhow?"

Sara put down her book with a laugh.

"Go on, dear; what's the use in trying to read when there's a party going on? Talk to me about it; I want to know all the arrangements;" and happy Molly ran on like a thoroughly well-oiled windmill for at least twenty minutes without a stop.

When, at the end of that time, there was a pause for breath, Sara said,--

"And how about the students?"

Molly gave a merry little laugh.

"It's the greatest fun, Sara! They can't understand at all; they look at me as if I was a Barnum's fat woman, or something, and I sail right by, with my head up, and never see them. I think" (reflectively), "if anything, it's better fun than the other way. That was too much like every girl you see, and this is just me alone: I really enjoy it."

"Molly, you are incorrigible!"

"What's that? I wish you wouldn't use such big words, Sara; I never could understand them; but if you mean I don't keep my promise, it isn't so! I do: you can ask Maud Wheeler if I don't."

"Is she coming to-morrow?"

"Yes; and she's your kind, Sara,--good, you know. You'll like her, and so do I, when I'm in my right moods, but sometimes I don't. You don't know, Sara," with a pathetic shake of her curls, "how hard it is to get along when you have bad streaks through you! Why, sometimes I'll go on for at least three days as smooth as can be, getting all my lessons, and being just as good as anybody; and then there comes a day that upsets it all. I can't study, and I see all the funny things, and how I can make 'em funnier with a touch; and I want to giggle at everything, and--well, it's that naughty streak, and I can't help myself, any more than you can help being good."

"Well, Molly," resignedly, "promise me this, that, whatever you do, you'll be out and out about it: no hiding, no shirking, no lies." "I never told a lie in my life, Sara Olmstead, never!" with a set of her bright head that was like the elder sister in her determined moods. "I'd feel mean forever!"

Sara smiled, and, with a rush of tenderness, bent forward and kissed her.

"No, darling, you won't lie, thank G.o.d! Now go to bed like a good girl, and be bright and rosy for to-morrow. Good-night!"

"Good-night, you blessed old sweet thing, you!" and with twenty kisses, and a strangling hug, the merry child ran off to dream,--not of students in elevated hats, but of creams and comfits, and pleased guests around a long table; for she was but a large-hearted, hospitable matron in embryo.

The party was really a brilliant success. Mrs. Macon sent a basketful of bright flowers, and some pretty draperies and decorations; while the professor willingly agreed to let the screen go, and insisted on Sara's taking the whole day off to a.s.sist at the _fete_. The madame came herself, and with deft fingers, and perfect taste, helped the two convert the little flat into a bower.

No one would have known the back room, with bright rugs covering its painted floor, and all the kitcheny suggestions hidden behind the ample screen; while the parlor was really charming in its tasteful dressings.

When the girls began to arrive, Sara watched her little sister with almost a dazed feeling. How rapidly this flower she had so cherished was unfolding before her eyes! And what was its quality to be? No modest daisy or violet certainly, nor yet a gaudy, flaunting tulip, but something bright, sweet, surprising, and enticing, all at once; and she thought of a carnation-pink shooting up from amid its ragged foliage, vivid, brilliant, and of a spicy fragrance. She watched the guests, also, with a critical eye, and was much pleased to note that Molly had shown good taste in their selection. They were all ladylike girls, evidently from good, well-guarded homes, and, though merry and care- free, had not a touch of vulgarity.

Madame Grandet had begged the privilege of remaining to help with the supper; and you may be sure every dish was served with a perfection and daintiness of touch only the French can give. Yes, it was a great success; and when, after the last guest had departed, Molly came and told her sister, almost with tears in her eyes, how happy she had been, Sara felt repaid for the sacrifice of quiet and seclusion she had made.

But she knew one party would not keep Molly. The active, restless, rapidly-unfolding nature must have constant occupations and interests; so for the sister's sake she did what she never would have done for her own.

She began to cultivate the social life of her church; went to Christian Endeavor meetings, socials, and Y.M.C.A. addresses. She made Morton go with them too, half dragging, half coaxing him; and soon the three, so dissimilar, yet all so intelligent and well-bred, came to be looked upon as most necessary factors in entertainments and social events.

When Sarah left Killamet, though she wore her white cross, she did not change her membership into any new circle of King's Daughters, but still remained one of Miss Prue's "Helpful Ten," as they called themselves in that little town. Now she and Molly joined a Dartmoor circle, and were soon known as active working members.

All this took time, thought, and money; and many times it was a puzzle to find the latter, though she had been drawing a slight advance in salary for several months, and Morton, by working in the college laboratory at odd hours, was now earning enough to clothe himself.

Yet, even with an occasional extra cheque for her published articles, the expenses were so increased that she often had difficulty to meet them; though, to Sara's great credit be it said, the girl had never allowed herself a useless debt. She dare not; the very thought frightened her, and Providence having blessed her with health, and simple wants, it had been possible to live within her income.

Summer advanced with her languid days, and the great event of the year in Dartmoor--cla.s.s day--came and pa.s.sed.

Last year her only interest in the parade had been that of a stranger seeing for the first time a novel spectacle; but this year things were different. She and Molly now knew many of the students; knew them in an orthodox, well-regulated manner, and met them in both private and church parlors. Morton sometimes brought them home at evening as well, and occasionally the girls went with one of them to a concert or lecture.

Mrs. Macon often had the sisters to a.s.sist at her receptions, and occasional dinners also; and thus, without being society girls at all, in a certain sense they yet did see a good deal of the social life in Dartmoor in one way and another.