Jessie Graham Flower - Grace Harlowe\'s Junior Year at High School

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Grace Harlowe's Junior Year
at High School

OR

Fast Friends in the Sororities

By
JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M.

Author of Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's
Sophomore Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's Senior
Year at High School, etc.

Illustrated

PHILADELPHIA
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY

COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOWARD E. ALTEMUS

[Illustration: Grace Snatched Off the White Mask.
_Frontispiece--High School Girls No. 3._]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. A NEW ARRIVAL 7

II. CONFIDENCES 20

III. AN AUTUMN WALKING EXPEDITION 30

IV. GRACE MAKES A DISCOVERY 42

V. THE PHI SIGMA TAU 53

VI. A VISIT TO ELEANOR 68

VII. THE CLAIM OF THE "ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT" 78

VIII. ELEANOR THROWS DOWN THE GAUNTLET 85

IX. THE RESCUE PARTY 96

X. JULIA PERFORMS A SACRED DUTY 106

XI. WORRIES AND PLANS 121

XII. A RECKLESS CHAUFFEUR 129

XIII. A THANKSGIVING FROLIC 137

XIV. ELEANOR FINDS A WAY 145

XV. A WOULD-BE "LARK" 150

XVI. THE JUNIORS FOREVER 163

XVII. THE LAST STRAW 173

XVIII. THE PLAY'S THE THING 182

XIX. THE TRY OUT 191

XX. THE ANONYMOUS LETTER 199

XXI. BREAKERS AHEAD 208

XXII. AS YOU LIKE IT 215

XXIII. THE JUNIOR PICNIC 235

XXIV. CONCLUSION 252

Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School

CHAPTER I

A NEW ARRIVAL

"Next to home, there is really nothing quite so satisfying as our
dear old High School!" exclaimed Grace Harlowe, as she entered the
locker-room and beamed on her three friends who stood near by.

"It does seem good to be back, even though we have had such a perfectly
glorious summer," said Jessica Bright. "We are a notch higher, too.
We're actually juniors. This locker-room is now our property, although
I don't like it as well as the one we had last year."

"We'll get accustomed to it, and it will seem like home inside of two
weeks," said Anne Pierson philosophically. "Everything is bound to
change in this world, you know. 'We must put ourselves in harmony with
the things among which our lot is cast.'"

"Well, Marcus Aurelius, we'll try to accept your teaching," laughed
Grace, who immediately recognized the quotation as coming from a tiny
"Marcus Aurelius Year Book" that Anne kept in her desk and frequently
perused.

"I wonder what school will bring us this year?" mused Nora O'Malley, as
she retied her bow for the fifth time before the mirror and critically
surveyed the final effect. "We had a stormy enough time last year,
goodness knows. Really, girls, it is hard to believe that Miriam Nesbit
and Julia Crosby were at one time the banes of our existence. They come
next to you three girls with me, now."

"I think that we all feel the same about them," replied Grace. "Miriam
is a perfect dear now, and is just as enthusiastic over class matters as
we are."

"It looks as though everything were going to be plain sailing this
year," said Jessica. "There isn't a disturbing element in the class that
I know of. Still, one can never tell."

"Oh, here come Eva Allen and Marian Barber," called Grace delightedly,
and rushed over to the newcomers with outstretched hands.

By this time girls began to arrive rapidly, and soon the locker-room
hummed with the sound of fresh, young voices. Coats of tan were compared
and newly acquired freckles deplored, as the girls stood about in
groups, talking of the delights of the summer vacation just ended.

To the readers of "GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL," and
"GRACE HARLOWE'S SOPHOMORE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL," the girl chums have
become familiar figures. It will be remembered how Grace Harlowe and her
friends, Nora O'Malley and Jessica Bright, during their freshman year,
became the firm friends of Anne Pierson, the brilliant young girl who won
the freshman prize offered each year to the freshmen by Mrs. Gray. The
reader will recall the repeated efforts of Miriam Nesbit, aided by Miss
Leece, the algebra teacher, to disgrace Anne in the eyes of the faculty,
and the way each attempt was frustrated by Grace Harlowe and her
friends. Mrs. Gray's house party, the winter picnic in Upton Wood, and
Anne Pierson's struggles to escape her unworthy father all contributed
toward making the story stand out in the reader's mind.

In "GRACE HARLOWE'S SOPHOMORE YEAR," the girl chums were found leading
their class in athletics. Here, Miriam Nesbit, still unsubdued, endeavored
once more to humiliate Anne Pierson, and to oust Grace from her position
as captain of the basketball team, being aided in her plan by Julia
Crosby, captain of the junior team, against whom the sophomores had
engaged to play a series of three games. Grace's brave rescue of Julia
Crosby during a skating party and the latter's subsequent repentance
restored good feeling between the two classes, and the book ended with
the final conversion of Miriam after her long and stubbornly nursed
enmity.

David Nesbit's trial flight in his aeroplane, Grace's encounter with the
escaped lunatic, who imagined himself to be Napoleon Bonaparte, were
among the features which made the book absorbing from start to finish.

The clang of the first bell broke in upon the chattering groups, and
obedient to its summons, the girls moved slowly out of the locker-room
and down the corridor, talking in subdued tones as they strolled toward
the study hall.

Miss Thompson stood at her desk, serene and smiling, as the girls filed
in.

"How well Miss Thompson looks," whispered Grace to Anne as they neared
their seats. "Let's go up and see her when this session is over. It's
sure to be short this morning."

It was customary on the opening of school for the members of the various
classes to take their seats of the previous year. Then the sections were
rearranged, the seniors taking the seats left by the graduates, and the
other classes moving up accordingly. The first day of school amounted to
really nothing further than being assigned to one's seat and getting
used to the idea of school again. Miss Thompson usually addressed the
girls on the duty of High School students, and the girls went forth full
of new resolutions that last for at least a week.

Grace looked curiously about her. She wondered if there were to be many
new girls that year. The present freshmen, direct from the Grammar
Schools, sat on the front seats looking a trifle awed at the idea of
being academic pupils, and feeling very strange and uncomfortable under
the scrutiny of so many pairs of eyes.

Her glance wandered toward the new sophomore class, as though in search
of some one, her eyes brightening as she caught sight of the brown-eyed
girl who had won the freshman prize the previous June. The latter looked
as helpless and friendless as when Grace first saw her step up on the
platform to receive her money. "I shall certainly find out more about
that child," she decided. "What is her name? I heard it at commencement,
but I have forgotten it."

Taking a leaf from a little note-book that she always carried, Grace
wrote: "Do you see the freshman-prize girl over among the sophomores?
What is her name? I can't remember." Then, folding the paper, she tossed
it to Anne, who nodded; then wrote, "Mabel Allison," and handed it to
the girl sitting opposite her, who obligingly passed it over to Grace.

With a nod of thanks to Anne, Grace glanced at the paper and then at the
owner of the name, who sat with her hands meekly folded on her desk,
listening to Miss Thompson as though her life depended upon hearing
every word that the principal uttered.

"I want all my girls to try particularly this year to reach a higher
standard than ever before," Miss Thompson concluded, "not only in your
studies, but in your attitude toward one another. Be straightforward
and honorable in all your dealings, girls; so that when the day comes
for you to receive your diplomas and bid Oakdale High School farewell,
you can do so with the proud consciousness that you have been to your
schoolmates just what you would have wished them to be to you. I know of
no better preparation for a happy life than constant observation of the
golden rule.

"And now I hope I shall have no occasion to deliver another lecture
during the school year," said the principal, smiling. "There can be no
formation of classes to-day, as the bulletins of the various subjects
have just been posted, and will undoubtedly undergo some changes. It
would be advisable, however, to arrange as speedily as possible about
the subjects you intend to take, as we wish to begin recitations by
Friday at the latest, and I dare say the changes made in the schedule
will be slight."

Then the work of assigning each class to its particular section of the
study hall began. The seniors moved with evident pride into the places
reserved for the first class, while the freshmen looked visibly relieved
at having any place at all to call their own. Immediately after this the
classes were dismissed, and a general rush was made to the end of the
great room, where the bulletins were posted.

Grace, Nora, Anne and Jessica wished to recite in the same classes as
far as could be arranged, and a lively confab ensued as to what would
be best to take. They all decided on solid geometry and English reading,
as they could be together for these classes, but the rest was not so
easy, for Nora, who loathed history, was obliged to take ancient history
to complete her history group, the other girls having wisely completed
theirs the previous year. Jessica wanted to take physical geography,
Anne rhetoric, and Grace boldly announced a hankering for zooelogy.

"How horrible," shuddered Jessica. "How can you bear to think of cutting
up live cats and dogs and angleworms and things."

"Oh, you silly," laughed Grace. "You're thinking of vivisection. I wouldn't
cut up anything alive for all the world. The girls did dissect crabs and
lobsters, and even rabbits, last year, but they were dead long before
they ever reached the zooelogy class."

"Oh," said Jessica, somewhat reassured, "I'm glad to hear that, at any
rate."

"That makes three subjects," said Nora. "Now we want one more. Are any
of you going to be over ambitious and take five?"

"Not I," responded Grace and Jessica in chorus.

"I shall," said Anne quietly. "I'm going to learn just as much as I can
while I have the chance."

"Well," said Jessica, "you're different. Five studies aren't any harder
for you than four for us."

"Thank the lady prettily for her high opinion of your ability, Anne,"
said Grace, laughing. "She really seems to be sincere."

"She's too sincere for comfort," murmured Anne, who hated compliments.

"We haven't settled on that fourth subject yet," interposed Nora.

"Why don't you all take French, it is such a beautiful language," said
a soft voice behind them. "I'm sure you'd like it."

The four girls turned simultaneously at the sound of the strange, soft
voice, to face a girl whose beauty was almost startling. She was a
trifle taller than Grace and beautifully straight and slender. Her hair
was jet black and lay on her forehead in little silky rings, while she
had the bluest eyes the girls had ever seen. Her features were small and
regular, and her skin as creamy as the petal of a magnolia. She stood
regarding the astonished girls with a fascinating little smile that was
irresistible.

"Please excuse me for breaking in upon you, but I saw you from afar, and
you looked awfully good to me." Her clear enunciation made the slang
phrase sound like the purest English. "I have just been with your
principal in her office. She told me to come here and look over the list
of subjects. Do you think me unpardonably rude?" She looked appealingly
at the four chums.

"Why, of course not," said Grace promptly, recovering in a measure from
her first surprise. "I suppose you are going to enter our school, are
you not? Let me introduce you to my friends." She named her three chums
in turn, who bowed cordially to the attractive stranger.

"My name is Grace Harlowe. Will you tell me yours?"

"My name is Eleanor Savell," replied the new-comer, "and I have just
come to Oakdale with my aunt. We have leased a quaint old house in the
suburbs called 'Heartsease.' My aunt fell quite in love with it, so
perhaps we shall stay awhile. We travel most of the time, and I get very
tired of it," she concluded with a little pout.

"'Heartsease'?" cried the girls in chorus. "Do you live at 'Heartsease'?"

"Yes," said the stranger curiously. "Is there anything peculiar about
it?"

"Oh, no," Grace hastened to reply. "The reason we are interested is
because we know the owner of the property, Mrs. Gray, very well."

"Oh, do you know her?" replied Eleanor lightly. "Isn't she a dainty,
little, old creature? She looks like a Dresden shepherdess grown old.
For an elderly woman, she really is interesting."

"We call her our fairy godmother," said Anne, "and love her so dearly
that we never think of her as being old." There had been something about
the careless words that jarred upon Anne.

"Oh, I am sure she is all that is delightful," responded Miss Savell,
quickly divining that Anne was not pleased at her remark. "I hope to
know her better."

"You are lucky to get 'Heartsease,'" said Grace. "Mrs. Gray has refused
over and over again to rent it. It belonged to her favorite brother, who
willed it to her when he died. She has always kept it in repair. Even
the furniture has not been changed. I have been there with her, and
I love every bit of it. I am glad to know that it has a tenant at last."

"Mrs. Gray knew my aunt years ago. They have kept up a correspondence
for ever so long. It was due to her that we came here," said Eleanor.

"Is your aunt Miss Margaret Nevin?" asked Anne quietly.

"Why, how did you know her name?" cried Eleanor, apparently mystified.
"'This is getting curiouser and curiouser.'"

The four girls laughed merrily.

"Anne is Mrs. Gray's private secretary," explained Jessica. "She tends
to all her correspondence. I suppose you have written more than one
letter to Miss Savell's aunt, haven't you, Anne!"

"Yes, indeed," replied Anne. "Her name is very familiar to me."

"What class are you girls in?" said Eleanor, abruptly changing the
subject. "Or aren't you all in the same class?"

"We are all juniors," laughed Nora, "and proud of it. Our green and
callow days are over, and we have entered into the realm of the upper
classes."

"Then I shall enter the junior class, too, for I choose to hob-nob with
you girls. Don't say you don't want me, for I have made up my mind; and
it is like the laws of the Medes and Persians, unchangeable."

"We shall be glad to welcome a new classmate, of course," responded
Grace. "I hope you will soon be one of us. Did Miss Thompson say that
you would have to take examinations?"

"She did, she did," answered Eleanor ruefully. "Still I'm not much
afraid. I've studied with a tutor, so I'm pretty well up in mathematics
and English. I can speak French, German, Italian and Spanish almost as
well as English. You know I've lived most of my life abroad. I'll manage
to pass somehow."

"I should think you would," exclaimed Anne admiringly. "I hope you pass,
I'm sure. Perhaps you'll be too far advanced for our class."

"Never fear, my dear," said Eleanor. "My heart is with the juniors, and
leave it to me not to land in any other class. But, really, I've bothered
you long enough. I must go back to your principal and announce myself
ready to meet my fate. I hope to know you better when examinations have
ceased to be a burden and the weary are at rest. That is, if I survive."

With a gay little nod, and a dazzling smile that revealed almost perfect
teeth, she walked quickly down the long room and out the door, leaving
the girl chums staring after her.

"What an extraordinary girl!" said Jessica. "She acts as though she'd
known us all her life, and we never set eyes on her until she marched in
and calmly interrupted us ten minutes ago."

"It doesn't seem to make much difference whether or not we like her. She
has decided she likes us, and that settles it," said Grace, smiling.
"What do you think of her, Anne? You are a pretty good judge of
character."

"I don't know yet," replied Anne slowly. "She seems charming. She must
be awfully clever, too, to know so many languages, but----"

"But what?" queried Nora.

"Oh, I don't know just what I want to say, only let's proceed slowly
with her, then we'll never have anything to regret."

"Come on, girls," said Jessica impatiently. "Let's hurry. You know we
promised to meet the boys as soon as school was over."

The girl chums walked out of the study hall, each with her mind so full
of the new girl, who had so suddenly appeared in their midst, that the
proposed call upon Miss Thompson was entirely forgotten.

CHAPTER II

CONFIDENCES

"I am the bearer of an invitation," announced Anne Pierson as the four
girls collected in one corner of the locker-room during the brief recess
allowed each morning.

"Mrs. Gray wishes to see us all at four o'clock this afternoon. We are
to dine with her and spend the evening, and the boys are invited for the
evening, too. So we will have just time enough after school to go home
and dress."

"You had better meet at my house, then," said Grace, "for it's on the
way to Mrs. Gray's. Good-bye. Be sure and be there at a quarter of four
at the latest."

Promptly at the appointed time the girls hurried up the Harlowe walk.
They were met at the door by Grace, who had been standing at the window
for the last ten minutes with hat and gloves on, impatiently waiting
their arrival.

As they neared Mrs. Gray's beautiful home, Anne said in a low tone to
Grace, who was walking with her, "I suppose Mrs. Gray has a double
motive in asking us up here to-day. I believe she wants to talk to us
about Eleanor Savell. Miss Nevin called on Mrs. Gray yesterday and they
were in the parlor together for a long time. After Miss Nevin had gone,
Mrs. Gray told me that Miss Nevin was anxious that Eleanor should
associate with girls of her own age. That is the reason she brought her
to Oakdale."

"Hurry up, you two," called Nora, who had reached the steps. "How you do
lag to-day."

"You will hear more of this later," whispered Anne.

Mrs. Gray stood in the wide hall with hands outstretched in welcome. She
kissed each girl affectionately, but her eyes lingered upon Anne, who
was plainly her favorite. The old lady had become so accustomed to the
sympathetic presence of the quiet, young girl that it seemed, at times,
as though her own daughter had come back to her once more.

"Come right into the library and make yourself comfy," cried Mrs. Gray
cheerily. "I spend most of my time there. The view from the windows is
so beautiful, and as one grows old, one resorts more and more to book
friendships."

"What shall we do with you, Mrs. Gray, if you keep on insisting that you
are old?" said Grace. "You're not a day older at heart than any of the
rest of us. Here, sit down in this nice, easy chair, while we take turns
telling you just how young you are."

"It is due to my adopted children that I am not a cross, crotchety,
complaining old woman," said Mrs. Gray, allowing Grace to seat her in
the big leather-covered arm chair.

"Now, what does your Majesty crave of her loyal subjects?" inquired
Grace, bowing low before the little, old lady.

"Very well, if I am queen, then I must be obeyed. Draw up your chairs
and sit in a circle. I want to tell you a little story. That is partly
my reason for inviting you here this afternoon, although you know you
are welcome whenever you choose to come."

"Is it a fairy story, dear Mrs. Gray, and does it begin with 'Once upon
a time'?" queried Jessica.

"It is a story of real life, my child, but I'll begin it like a fairy
tale if you wish it."

"Oh, please begin at once," said Grace, who, at eighteen, was as fond of
a story as she had been at six.

"Well, 'once upon a time,' there were two sisters. They were really only
half sisters, and the one was almost twenty years older than the other.
The mother of the elder sister had died when she was about fifteen years
of age, and two years later the father had married a beautiful young
Irish girl of very good family, who loved him dearly in spite of the
difference in their ages.

"After they had been married a little over two years, a little girl came
to them, and the older sister loved the tiny baby as dearly as she loved
her beautiful, young step-mother."

"Why, that sounds very much like Grimm's fairy tales!" exclaimed Nora.
"Only the book people are all kings and queens, but this is even better
because the heroine is actually Irish."

There was a general laugh over Nora's remark in which Mrs. Gray joined.

"It's a case of Ireland forever, isn't it Nora?" said Grace teasingly.

"'Fine and dandy are the Irish,'" said Nora with a grin, quoting from a
popular song she had heard in a recent musical comedy. "But stop teasing
me, and let Mrs. Gray go on with her story."

"When the baby sister, whose name was Edith, was about three years old,
the beautiful young mother died and left the husband inconsolable. A
year later he was killed in a railroad accident, and the elder sister,
named Margaret, was left with only little Edith to comfort her. The
father had been a rich man, so they had no anxiety about money, and
lived on year after year in their beautiful old home, with everything
heart could wish.

"As Edith grew older, she developed a decided talent for music, and
when she was fifteen Margaret decided to take her abroad and allow her
to enter one of the great conservatories of Europe. They went to
Leipsic, and Edith, who had high hopes of one day becoming a concert
pianiste, continued her studies under the best instructors that money
could procure. Things ran along smoothly until Edith met a young Italian
named Guido Savelli, who was studying the violin at the same
conservatory. His brilliant playing had already created a sensation
wherever he appeared, and he gave promise of being a virtuoso.

"He fell violently in love with Edith, who had her mother's beautiful blue
eyes and the combination of white skin and black hair that go to make an
Irish beauty. She returned his love, and after a brief engagement they
were married, much against the wishes of Margaret, who thought them both
too young and impressionable to know their own minds."

"And did they live happy ever after?" asked Grace eagerly.

"That is the sad part of my story," said Mrs. Gray, sighing. "They were
anything but happy. They both had too much of the artistic temperament
to live peaceably. Besides, Guido Savelli was thoroughly selfish at
heart. Next to himself, his music was the only thing in the world that
he really cared for. When they had been married for about a year and a
half he played before the king, and soon became the man of the hour. He
neglected his beautiful young wife, who, in spite of their frequent
quarrels, loved him with a pure and disinterested affection.

"Finally he went on a concert tour through the principal European
cities, and she never saw him again. She wrote him repeatedly, but he
never answered her letters, and she was too proud to follow him. She had
one child, a baby girl, named Eleanor, who was the sole comfort of the
heartbroken mother."

At this juncture Anne and Grace exchanged significant glances.

"When Eleanor was about a year old, the mother wrote Guido Savelli once
more, begging him to come to her, if only for the sake of his child, but
either he never received the letter or else paid no attention to it, for
she received no reply. She relapsed into a dull, apathetic state, from
which the repeated efforts of her sister failed to arouse her. The
following winter she contracted pneumonia and died, leaving her sister
the sole guardian of Eleanor."

"How long ago did all this happen, dear Mrs. Gray?" queried Nora
eagerly, "and is little Eleanor living?"

"It was sixteen years ago, my dear," replied Mrs. Gray, "and the reason
that I have told you this long tale is because the baby girl is almost a
woman now, and----"

"The girl is Eleanor Savell and we met her the other day," broke in
Grace excitedly, forgetting for an instant that she had interrupted Mrs.
Gray. "She is going to live at 'Heartsease' and---- oh, Mrs. Gray,
please pardon me for interrupting you, I was so excited that I didn't
realize my own rudeness."

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