Chase Josephine - Marjorie Dean, College Senior

“ All right! Keep your old secret, Mister Stingy!” she at last exclaimed in laughing vexation. “I won’t dance with you again this evening, just to pay you for being so aggravating.”

“It isn’t my secret,” Hal began by way of conciliation. “The reason I mentioned it to you was because I was told you were to share it. Go and find Connie. She will tell you. I’ve told you too much already. I’m a fine repository for secrets.” Hal put sarcastic emphasis on the “fine.”

“I’ll forgive you when I find out what it is. There goes Connie now. I’m going to ask her.” Marjorie hurried off to intercept Constance, who was crossing the floor.

“Oh, Lieutenant!” Constance exclaimed, her fair face radiant. “I was just looking for you. I’ve something to report.”

“Go ahead. I’ve something to report, too,” Marjorie returned gayly. “Let us go downstairs to the window seat. We can have a wee little talk there.”

Arm in arm the two girls steered their course to the door of the ball room. At the foot of the rather steep stairway was a double window with a deep cushioned seat. There they settled themselves for an exchange of confidences. The full light of the white, sailing moon flooded the window seat, lending to the two young faces an enchantment of beauty.

Constance was wearing a pale blue chiffon frock, embellished here and there with small clusters of pinkish-white rosebuds. It was a facsimile of a blue gown long since laid away as a treasure of a by-gone day. The worn-out gown of blue chiffon had been Marjorie’s first gracious gift to Constance.

“You look just exactly as you did the night of the Hallowe’en party when you wore the other blue dress, Connie,” Marjorie said. “Will you ever forget that night?”

“No. I couldn’t. I still count it as the most eventful night of my life. It was my first dance, my first party dress, my first meeting with Laurie.” Constance became suddenly silent. Her hand reached out and found one of Marjorie’s.

“What is it, Connie?” Marjorie understood that Constance had something special on her mind which she was about to impart.

“I – I – Oh, Marjorie! I am not going to wait to be married to Laurie next June when he comes back from Europe. I am going to be married to him on Thanksgiving Day and go to Europe with him. We’re going to study together there.”

“Why, Connie Stevens! You take my breath!” Marjorie, who had been sitting very straight relaxed with a little, “Ah-h!”

“I knew you’d be flabbergasted.” Constance’s reply was tenderly apologetic. “I just had to tell you, though. We would be married as early as October, but, if we were, then you girls couldn’t come to our wedding on account of college restrictions. It will be a very quiet wedding. When we come home next June we will give a reception and invite all our friends. I am so happy, Marjorie. I couldn’t bear to be separated from Laurie for another year.” Constance hid her glowing face against Marjorie’s shoulder.

Marjorie listened to Constance, not yet over her first amazement at the news. Hal’s words, “Don’t be surprised at anything you may hear,” returned with force.

“It’s a beautiful plan, Connie,” she approved, when she found her voice again. Both arms went out to encircle her friend.

“I knew you would agree with us.” Constance gave a little sigh of satisfaction. “Aunt Susan was not pleased, at first. She wished to announce our betrothal formally at a reception for me this winter. She has been so dear to us. She was broad-minded enough to allow for such stray musicians as Laurie and me. Neither of us care about pomp and ceremony, you know.”

Constance raised her head. In her blue dress, with the moonlight playing upon her soft, childish features and golden hair, Marjorie thought she looked even younger than she had appeared at the eventful Hallowe’en party. Then, poverty and unhappiness had marred her beauty. Now, it had grown with every good gift that had been showered upon her.

“Marjorie,” she continued very solemnly: “I have never said a word to you before, but – ” with a slight pause, “I hope you will marry Hal some day. I am sure he loves you as dearly as Laurie loves me.” Constance spoke with the sincerity of the truly happy. She had found love. “You have always been friendly with Hal, but I understand you don’t love him now. I have watched you both, and I know he cares a great deal more for you than you for him. I don’t mean I wish you would fall in love with Hal tomorrow or next week or even next year, but, someday, I hope you will.”

“I don’t wish to fall in love with Hal or anybody else.” Marjorie shook her head with a decision that loosened a curl from the thick, wavy masses of hair drawn over her ears. She frowned down the remote possibility of such a catastrophe. “It has always been different with you and Laurie than with Hal and me. You two were really lovers as far back as your sophomore year at Sanford High. Hal and I have been just good friends, and so far as I am concerned, we are going to stay just good friends .”

“And is it yourselves, and no other? Where was I, may I ask, that I was not at the station to meet you?”

Leila Harper stood at the top of the front steps of Wayland Hall just long enough to thus interrogate the party of four girls who were advancing toward her. With a jubilant Irish whoop she made a sudden, forceful descent of the steps and landed among them with open arms.

“And I am that glad to see you!” she exclaimed. “Here I have been, melancholy as a roofless banshee, for two whole days. Vera, may the moon defend her and the sun lend her grace, was to be here today. Still no sign of our respected and regretted Midget!”

“Maybe we aren’t glad to see you, Leila Greatheart!” Marjorie was embracing Leila with a fervor that bespoke her affection for the genial Irish girl. “I would have wired you we were coming, but I hadn’t heard from you for three weeks, neglectful person, so I didn’t know where you were.”

“Now has it really been three weeks?” Leila inquired ingeniously, then laughed. “I’m guilty, Beauty. Forgive your Celtic friend. I am always meaning to write letters. It’s not lack of intention, but lack of execution that troubles me. But where is Ronny?” Making the round of greeting as she talked, Leila had now missed Veronica Lynne.

“Ronny hasn’t come from the West yet.” Muriel replied to the question. “This is the first year she hasn’t traveled to Hamilton with us. My, how I have missed her! We used to have such lovely squabbles on the train, all the way to college. It made things so pleasant and lively.” Muriel’s brown eyes danced as she forwarded this naive admission.

“Ronny and her father went on one of their long pony-riding trips,” Marjorie further enlightened Leila. “She may be on the way East now. I have not heard from her for over a month. Miss Archer, her God-mother, has only received one letter from her since the first of July. When she is on one of those trips she doesn’t write letters for she has no chance to mail them.”

“Who’s back, Leila?” eagerly inquired Jerry, as the party leisurely ascended the steps, Leila in the middle of the group.

“Hardly anyone, yet. It is early, you know. Mary Cornell and Eva Ingram are here; Kathie, too.”

“Hurrah!” Lucy Warner’s face lighted at this news. “How long since Kathie came, Leila?”

“Day before yesterday. She is staying at Lillian’s. I saw her when she got off the train. So did Lillian. Result – I haven’t seen her since.”

“I must call her on the telephone this very afternoon,” planned Lucy.