The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers Page 5

  CHAPTER V.

  A COASTING PARTY.

  The memory of that happy day sustained Hinpoha through many of thetrials that came to her in the days that followed. It seemed thateverything she did brought down the wrath of her aunt in some way oranother. For instance, she left a bottle of bees standing on the tablein her room, and Aunt Phoebe's dog Silky, who had been in the habit ofgoing into the room and chewing Hinpoha's painted paddle, knocked thebottle over and let the bees out, getting badly stung in the process.Then there was a scene with Aunt Phoebe because she had brought the beesin. This and a dozen more incidents of a similar nature made Hinpohadespair of ever gaining the good will of her aunt. Thus the autumn woreaway to winter and as yet the Desert of Waiting had borne nothing butthorns.

  Gladys's progress through school was like the advance of a conqueringhero. Although she had just entered this fall she was already one of themost popular girls in school. She had that fair, delicate prettinesswhich invariably appeals to boys, and an open, unaffected manner whichendeared her to the girls. Beside her very lovable personality she had abackground which was almost certain to insure popularity to a girl. Shewas rich and lived in a great house on a fashionable avenue; she had alittle electric car all her own, and she wore the smartest clothes ofany girl in school. Her fame as a dancer soon spread and she was inconstant demand at school entertainments. Nyoda watched her a trifleanxiously at first. She was just a little afraid that Gladys's headwould be turned with all the homage paid her, or that, blinded by herpresent success, she would lose the deeper meanings of life and benothing but a butterfly after all. But she need not have feared.Gladys's experience in camp had kindled a fire in her that would neverbe extinguished as long as life guarded the flame. Having changed herCamp Fire name from Butterfly to Real Woman, she was anxious to proveher right to the name. So she worked diligently to win new honors whichmade her efficient in the home as well as those which helped her toshine in society.

  Mrs. Evans was returning from an afternoon card party. She was tired andher head ached and she felt out of sorts. A remark which she hadoverheard during the afternoon stayed in her mind and made her cross.Two ladies on the other side of a large screen near which she wassitting were discussing a campaign in which they were interested toraise funds for a certain philanthropy. "I am going to ask Mrs. Evans ifshe would not like to subscribe one hundred dollars," said the one lady.

  "So much?" asked the other in an uncertain voice, "I don't believe Iwould if I were you."

  "Why not?" asked the first lady.

  "Haven't you heard," replied the second lady, with the air of impartinga delicious secret, "that Mr. Evans is on the verge of financial ruin?"

  "No," replied the second in a tone of lively interest, "I haven't. Whotold you so?"

  "A great many people are saying so," continued the first. "Do you knowthat they took their daughter out of the private school she had beenattending and sent her to public school this year? They must be hard upif they can't pay school bills any more."

  "It certainly looks like it," said the first lady.

  "Possibly I had better not ask Mrs. Evans for any subscription at all.It might embarrass her, poor thing." The voices trailed off and Mrs.Evans was left feeling decidedly annoyed. She was the kind of woman whorarely discussed other people's affairs, and likewise disliked havingher own discussed by other people. The thought that some folks mightmisconstrue Gladys's entering the public school to mean that her fatherwas about to fail in business, first amused, and then irritated her.Nothing like that could be farther from correct, but the thought came toher that such rumors floating around might have some effect on Mr.Evans's standing in the business world. She began to wonder if after allit had not been a mistake to take Gladys out of Miss Russell's school inthe middle of her course.

  Thinking cynical thoughts about the gossiping abilities of most people,she drove up the long driveway and entered the house. The long hall withits wide staircase and large, splendidly furnished rooms opening oneither side, struck her as being cold and gloomy. The polished chairsand tables shone dully in the fast waning light of the Decemberafternoon, cheerless and unfriendly looking. The house suddenly seemedto her to be less a home than a collection of furniture. For the momentshe almost hated the wealth which made it necessary to maintain thisvast and magnificent display. The women she had played cards with thatafternoon seemed shallow and artificial. Life was decidedlyuninteresting just then. She went upstairs and took off her wraps andcame down again, aimlessly. Gladys was nowhere in sight, which made thehouse seem lonelier than ever, for with Gladys around there would havebeen somebody to talk to. At the foot of the stairs she paused. Shecould hear some one singing in a distant part of the house. "Katy'shappy, anyway," she said with a sigh, "if she feels like singing in thathot kitchen," A desire for company led her out to the kitchen. It wasnot Katy, however, who greeted her when she opened the door. It wasGladys--Gladys with a big apron on and her sleeves rolled up, justtaking from the oven a pan of golden brown muffins. The room was filledwith the delicious odor of freshly baked dough.

  Gladys looked up with a smile when she saw her mother in the doorway."How do you like the new cook?" she asked. "Katy went home sick thisafternoon and I thought I would get supper myself." The kitchen lookedso cheerful and inviting that Mrs. Evans came in and sat down. Gladysbegan mixing up potatoes for croquettes.

  "Can't I do something?" asked her mother.

  "Why, yes," said Gladys, bringing out another apron and tying it aroundher waist, "you heat the fat to fry these in." Mrs. Evans and Gladys hadnever had such a good time together. Gladys had planned the entire menuand her mother meekly followed her directions as to what to do next. Sheand Gladys frolicked around the kitchen with increasing hilarity as thesupper progressed. Never before had there existed such a comradeshipbetween them.

  "Do you think this is seasoned right?" asked Mrs. Evans, holding out aspoonful of white sauce for Gladys to taste.

  "A little more salt," said Gladys judicially. Mrs. Evans had forgottenher irritation of the afternoon. The conversation which had aroused herire before now struck her as humorous.

  "If Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Jones could only see me now," she thought withan inward chuckle, "doing my own cooking!" The half-formed plan ofsending Gladys back to Miss Russell's the first of the year faded fromher mind. Send Gladys away? Why, she was just beginning to enjoy hercompany! Another plan presented itself to her mind. In the Christmasvacation Gladys should give a party which would forever dispel anydoubts about the soundness of their financial standing. Her brain wasalready at work on the details. Gladys should have a dress from MadameCharmant's in New York. They would have Waldstein, from the SymphonyOrchestra, with a half dozen of his best players, furnish the music.There would be expensive prizes and favors for the games. Mrs. Davis andMrs. Jones would have a chance to alter their opinions when theirdaughters brought home accounts of the affair. She planned the wholething while she was eating her supper.

  After supper Gladys washed the dishes and her mother wiped them, andthey put them away together. Then Gladys began to get ready to go toCamp Fire meeting and Mrs. Evans reluctantly prepared to go out for theevening. The nearer ready she was the more disinclined she felt to go."Those Jamieson musicales are always such a bore," she said to herselfwearily. "They never have good singers--my Gladys could do better thanany of them--and they are interminable. Father looks tired to death, andI know he would rather stay at home. Gladys," she called, looking intoher daughter's room, "where is your Camp Fire meeting to-night?"

  "At the Brewsters'," answered Gladys.

  "Do you ever have visitors?" continued her mother.

  "Why, yes," answered Gladys, "we often do."

  "Do you mind if you have one to-night?" asked Mrs. Evans.

  "Certainly not," replied Gladys.

  "Well, then, I'm coming along," said her mother.

  "Will you?" cried Gladys. "Oh goody!" The Winnebagos were surprised anddelighted when Mrs. Evans appeared
with Gladys. Since that Saturday'souting she had held a very warm place in their affections.

  "Come in, mother," called Sahwah; "you might as well join the group too,we have one guest. This is Mrs. Evans, Gladys's mother," she said, whenher mother appeared after hastily brushing back her hair and putting ona white apron. The two women held out their hands in formal greeting,and then changed their minds and fell on each other's necks.

  "Why, Molly Richards!" exclaimed Mrs. Evans.

  "Why, Helen Adamson!" gasped Mrs. Brewster. The Winnebagos looked on,mystified.

  "You can't introduce me to your mother," said Mrs. Evans to Sahwah,laughing at her look of surprise. "We were good friends when we wereyounger than you. Do you remember the time," she said, turning back toMrs. Brewster, "when you drew a picture of Miss Scully in your historyand she found it and made you stand up in front of the room and hold itup so the whole class could see it?"

  "Do you remember the time," returned Mrs. Brewster, "when we ran awayfrom school to see the Lilliputian bazaar and your mother was there andwalked you out by the ear?" Thus the flow of reminiscences went on.

  "How little I thought," said Mrs. Evans, "when I first saw Sarah Anngoing around with Gladys, that she was your daughter!"

  "How little I thought," said Mrs. Brewster, "when Gladys began cominghere, that she was _your_ daughter!"

  "How many more of these girls' mothers are our old schoolmates, Iwonder?" said Mrs. Evans.

  "Let's meet them and find out," said Mrs. Brewster. "Here, you girls,"she said, "every one of you go home and get your mother." Delightedlythe girls obeyed, and the mothers came, a little backward, some of them,a little shy, pathetically eager, and decidedly breathless. Migwan'smother, Mrs. Gardiner, had known Mrs. Brewster in her girlhood, andNakwisi's mother had known Mrs. Evans, and Chapa's and Medmangi'smothers had known each other. What a happy reunion that was, and what achorus of "Don't you remembers" rose on every side! Tears mingled withthe laughter when they spoke of the death of Mrs. Bradford, whom most ofthem had known in their school days.

  "Do you remember," said one of the mothers, "how we used to go coastingdown the reservoir hill? You girls have never seen the old reservoir. Itwas levelled off years ago."

  "I'd enjoy going coasting yet," said Mrs. Brewster.

  "Let's!" said Mrs. Evans. "The snow is just right."

  Girls and mothers hurried into their coats and out into the frosty air.The street sloped down sharply, and the middle of the road was filledwith flying bobsleds, as the young people of the neighborhood tookadvantage of the snowy crust. Sahwah brought out her brother's bob,which he was not using this evening, and piled the whole company onbehind her. She could steer as well as a boy. Down the long street theyshot, from one patch of light into another as they passed the lampposts. The mothers shrieked with excitement and held on for dear life."Oh," panted Mrs. Brewster when they came to a standstill at the bottomof the slope, "is there anything in the world half so exciting anddelightful as coasting?" Down they went, again and again, laughing allthe way, and causing many another bobload to look around and wonder whothe jolly ladies were. Most of the mothers lost their breath in theswift rush and had to be helped up the hill to the starting point. OnceSahwah turned too short at the bottom of the street and upset the wholesledful into a deep pile of snow, from which they emerged looking likesnowmen. "Oh-h-h," sputtered Mrs. Brewster, "the snow is all going downinside of my collar! Sarah Ann, you wretch, you deserve to have yourface washed for that!" She picked up a great lump of snow and hurled itdeftly at Sahwah's head. It struck its mark and flew all to pieces, muchof it going down the back of her neck.

  "This coasting is all right," said Mrs. Gardiner, "but, oh, that walk uphill!"

  Mrs. Evans spied her machine standing in front of the Brewster house,and it gave her an idea. "Why not tie the bob to the machine," she said,"and go for a regular ride?" This suggestion was hailed with great joy,and carried out with alacrity.

  "Would you like to drive, mother?" asked Gladys.

  "No, indeed!" said her mother. "I'm out sleigh-riding to-night. You getin and drive it yourself!" Gladys complied, with Migwan up beside herfor company, and away they flew up one street and down another andthrough the park. And just as they were going around a curve, Sahwah,who sat at the front end of the sled, untied the rope, and away went themachine around the corner, and left them stranded in the snow. Gladysfelt the release of the trailer, but pretended that she knew nothingabout it, and drove ahead at full speed, and traveling in a circle, cameup behind the marooned voyagers and surprised them with a hearty laugh.This time she towed them back to Sahwah's house, where they drank hotcocoa to warm themselves up, and all declared they had never had suchfun in their lives.

  "And to think how near I came to missing this!" said Mrs. Evans, as sheand Gladys were driving home, and she shivered when she remembered howshe had almost gone to the musicale.