“If I were going, I’d wear this brown taffeta suit down there on the train,” mused Peggy, “and these bronze shoes. My, I think it would be fine going down there on the train—oh, dear, oh dear, I’m afraid I’m going to cry again over it, and it isn’t time yet. Time enough when I hear the taxis whirring off with them inside. How can Katherine be so happy in going when I have to stay behind? I’d never go a step if she were in my place. Never in the whole world! Oh,—de—ar!”
If Katherine had been taking pleasure in the contemplation of a good time that did not include Peggy it would have been very unlike her indeed. But, while Peggy had been sentimentally weeping before the pink gown in their room at Andrews, she had been as busy as might be with plans to make everything come out all right. And it was perfectly true that if she had been unable to bring about the desired result, she would not have gone herself, but would have developed a headache at the last minute that would have compelled her to remain at home with her injured room-mate.
Several times she had run in lonely haste up the walk of Huntington House to hold conference with the owner and his grandson. For, as she put it, nobody could hope to do anything with Forest unless they had a “pull,” and Mr. Huntington was the only person she knew who had one and might be expected to exercise it in a case like this.
“Threaten her with the gymnasium,” begged Katherine. “Tell her Peggy has changed her mind about giving up the money for a gymnasium for such a mean horrid school as she is making of our dear old Andrews. Tell her that you’ll write to the boys at Annapolis and tell them that Forest keeps her prettiest girls at home and thinks just the ordinary ones are good enough for them. And then let her see how quickly the yearly invitation to bring down some of the girls will be renewed. Why, they’ll never consent to hear Andrews mentioned in their presence again.” She was becoming vindictive in the extreme, and Mr. Huntington sat back and laughed at her.
But, laughing or not, he promised to try his hand at appeasing Mrs. Forest, and this was just what Katherine had wanted, so she forgave him his mirth at her expense.
Mr. Huntington was seen to come up on the porch at Andrews a few hours later, and the girls wondered how many of them he would ask for. Imagine their surprise, therefore, when he did not even send up word to Katherine and Peggy, but remained in solitary consultation with their principal, and finally walked off without a backward and upward glance at the window full of friendly figures waiting to wave at him.
He left Mrs. Forest in a sad state of mind. But there was only one way out of it—and that was to trudge up the broad staircase and fill Peggy’s heart with wild delight by the remission of her sentence.
This she did with what grace she could muster, and it must be admitted there was a guilty feeling of not deserving it when Peggy, impelled by the sudden rise in her emotional temperature, flung herself upon her quondam enemy and kissed her on the lips.
“There, there, child,” murmured the much-softened principal. “I’m sure you’ll be a credit to the school, and now I want you to forget everything but the good time. What dress shall you wear, dear? What, that? Oh, it is beautiful. Your aunt is a very charming woman, my dear, and possesses excellent taste. I hope it will be very becoming to you.”
“Hope!” cried Peggy to Katherine as soon as she had gone, “she hopes. Why, Katherine, any living person with eyes in their head could see that it will be!”