V
Grace had not yet wholly escaped from the effect of Dr. Ridgely’s sermon, with its warning against the too-readily-found excuse for wrong-doing. She continued to observe carefully her associates in Shipley’s and other business girls she became acquainted with, and she had no reason for suspecting that by far the greater number were not high-minded young women who met cheerily all the circumstances of their lives. She found herself stumbling uncomfortably over the excuses she made for herself. Other girls forced to labor and blessed with equal charm and wit did not find it necessary “to play around with married men” as the phrase went, or encourage the attentions of young unmarried men who were not likely to show them every respect. There were societies and associations whose purpose was to safeguard young womanhood; some of her new acquaintances were members of such organizations. She accepted invitations to go for lunch or supper to several of these, but thought them dull.
Finding that Grace hadn’t attempted to enlist Miss Reynolds in the girl’s club of Dr. Ridgley’s church, Ethel Durland had sent the pastor himself to invite that lady to one of the meetings.
“I hope you will come Tuesday night,” said Ethel, when she reported this to Grace. “We want Miss Reynolds to see the scope of our work and your being there will be a help. Maybe you’d ask some of the girls in Shipley’s? We want to have a record attendance. And we want the girls to bring their young men friends with them. It’s our idea that the girls should feel that the church is like another home.”
The attempt to establish a new high record of attendance brought twenty-five girls and four young men to the church parlors. Three of the young women were from Shipley’s and they had gone at Grace’s earnest solicitation; four were Servians, employed in a garment factory, and they were convoyed by young men of their own race.
“I wish you’d be specially nice to those Servian girls,” Ethel remarked to Grace. “It wasn’t easy to get them to come, but they brought their beaux with them. We must be sure they have a good time.”
The beaux did not seem to relish the hopeless minority of their sex. The meeting was opened formally by Ethel as chairman of the entertainment committee. She introduced Dr. Ridgely, who expressed the hope that the club would develop into one of the strongest agencies of the church. He referred to religion only indirectly. Grace was again impressed by his sincerity; and he was tactful and gracious in his effort to put the visitors at ease. He would not linger, he said, as a reminder that they were in a church; the evening was theirs and he wanted the club to manage its own affairs and define its own policy to meet the tastes and needs of the members. No one of any shade of religious faith could have taken offense from anything he said or feared that the pastor wished to use the club for proselyting purposes. However, when he had left, Ethel Durland extended an invitation to those present who were not already enrolled in the Sunday school to become affiliated, and urged attendance upon the regular church services.
“How tactless! Why couldn’t she let well enough alone!” whispered Miss Reynolds to Grace. “Dr. Ridgely knows better than that.”
“My sister has a strong sense of duty,” Grace answered. “She couldn’t bear to let the opportunity go by.”
“She might have waited at least till they’d got their refreshments,” Miss Reynolds retorted.
A young lady elocutionist who had volunteered her services recited a number of poems after Ethel had prepared the way with a few words on the new movement in poetry. The audience manifested no great interest in the movement and seemed utterly mystified by the poems offered. However, Ethel now announced that the formal exercises were concluded and that they would repair to the basement where there would be dancing. Ethel, who did not dance herself and thought it a wicked form of amusement, had yielded reluctantly to the suggestion of the other members of the committee that dancing be included in the programme. Dr. Ridgely had given his approval on the ground that young people were bound to dance somewhere and as there was so much criticism of the prevailing fashion in dancing he thought it highly desirable to provide the amusement under auspices calculated to discourage the objectionable features complained of in the public dance halls.
“Well, where are all the young men?” inquired Miss Reynolds as she stood beside Grace in the basement. “Those four Servians look frightened to death and girls don’t enjoy dancing with each other. If the church is going to do this thing, why don’t they do it right? You’d think the committee would have got some young men here if they’d had to ask the police to drag them in.”
The music was provided by two negroes, one of whom played the piano and the other the drum. As Twentieth Century dance music it was not of a high order. The musicians, duly admonished by the Chairman of the entertainment committee, were subduing their performance in the attempt to adjust it to the unfamiliar and sobering environment. And the room itself was not a particularly inspiring place for social entertaining. A map of the Holy Land and several enlarged photographs of early members of the church were the only adornments of the plaster wall, and the chairs were of that unsteady, collapsible type that suggest funerals and give the sitter a feeling of undergoing penance for grievous sins. The low ceiling was supported by iron pillars that added nothing to the pleasure of dancing.
A number of girls began dancing together and after some persuasion Grace succeeded in getting the four couples of Servians on the floor. The young men danced with something of a ceremonial air as though, finding themselves in an alien atmosphere, they wished fitly to represent the dignity and pride of their race. Grace picked out several young girls who were huddled helplessly in a corner and danced with them and then seized upon the young men and introduced them in the hope of breaking the racial deadlock. The young fellows proved to be painfully shy when confronted by the necessity of dancing with girls they had never seen before. Nevertheless Grace’s efforts resulted in putting some life and animation into the party. It had been said of her in college that she had the knack of making things go and it struck her suddenly that something might be done to inject some spirit and novelty into the occasion by asking the Servians to give their folk dances. One of the Servian girls undertook to instruct the negroes in the rhythms required for the folk dances and the young woman’s vivacity and the negroes’ good-natured eagerness to meet her wishes evoked much merriment. The dances were given with spirit in a circle formed by the rest of the company, who warmly applauded the quaint performance.
“I always wanted to try these folk dances myself!” cried Grace appealing to the tallest of the young men. “Won’t you teach me?”
He would be honored, he said, and the girl with whom he had been dancing went to the piano. Grace quickly proved herself an apt and enthusiastic pupil. When she had learned the postures and steps of one of the group dances her instructor took her as his partner and she went through with it without an error. Others of the American girls now began trying the steps with the Servian young men and women, who entered zestfully into the work of teaching them. The result was the breaking down of restraint and by the time the refreshments were served the room presented a scene of gaiety and good fellowship.
“You have a genius for that kind of thing, my dear; you managed that beautifully,” said Miss Reynolds to Grace as they assisted in pouring chocolate and passing sandwiches. “You saved the evening! Dear me! There’s something wrong with this. As an effort to interest young people in the church this club can’t say much for itself. Girls won’t go where there are no young men; I imagine young men are not easy to lure into church parlors to hear poetry read to them, particularly poetry that doesn’t mean anything. And this cellar and the piano and drum can’t compete with a big dance hall and a real jazz band. This has been going on about like this for several years, but without as many girls as came tonight. I don’t know what could be done, but this doesn’t seem worth while.”
“I don’t know the answer either,” said Grace, who, more or less consciously, was observing this attempt to do something for working girls with reference to her own problems. Her reading had made her familiar with the efforts of church organizations to meet the social needs of the changing times. It seemed to her that these all presupposed a degree of aspiration in the class sought to be helped. And knowing herself to have enjoyed probably the best opportunities as to education of any girl in the room she was troubled, knowing how feeble was her hold on such ideals of conduct as only a little while ago she had believed herself to possess.
“Maybe,” said Miss Reynolds, “those people are right who say we’re running too much to organizations. We start a club like this and stick it in a church basement and are terribly pleased with ourselves. These girls are all good girls; naughty girls wouldn’t come; they can have a better time somewhere else. And they’re just the ones we’ve got to reach. Am I right about that?”
“I think you are,” replied Grace, wondering what Miss Reynolds would say if she could read her thoughts. To drop Trenton while it was still possible would make it necessary to reconcile herself to the acceptance of just such pleasures as Ethel thought sufficient social stimulus for girls who worked for a living.
“Why don’t the church members come to these meetings?” Miss Reynolds demanded, “or send their sons and daughters? The minister of this church has sense and I’ll wager he sees that side of it. A miserable thing like this only strengthens class feeling. I don’t believe there’s any way of making such a club go. The church is put in the position of tagging the rich and the poor so nobody can mistake one for the other. I think I’ll spend my time and money on individual cases—find a few young people who really need help and concentrate on them!”
At eleven o’clock the musicians left and the entertainment came to an end.
“I’m so grateful to you, Grace, for helping; this is the best meeting we’ve ever had,” said Ethel after she had pressed a folder describing the church’s activities upon the last of the company. “Don’t you think our work well worth while, Miss Reynolds?”
“I was greatly interested,” Miss Reynolds replied evasively.
She took Grace and Ethel home in her car but did not encourage Ethel’s attempt to discuss the evening. However, in bidding Ethel good-night she said she would send her a check for one hundred dollars for the girls’ club.
“Your work is important, Miss Durland; I sympathize with the purpose; but I don’t think you’ve got quite the right plan. But I confess that I have no suggestion worth offering. I realize that it’s not easy to solve these problems.”