It was not Betty’s way to mourn over what couldn’t be helped, so she went cheerfully with her mother to purchase the despised sailor suit. They bought the prettiest one they could find—a blue serge with white collar and cuffs and a silk sailor tie. But though it was becoming and would have looked just right had Betty been starting on a yachting cruise, it was not to be compared with the elaborate costumes most of the girls were preparing. And, though it was cold comfort, Betty was true to her word, and helped the others all she could to make their gowns effective. She lent her Roman sash, her embroidered Japanese kimono, and her spangled Egyptian scarf to girls who could use them effectively. She helped Dorothy with her Elizabethan garb, and Jeanette with her Joan of Arc costume.
As for the Goddess, Constance had a most resplendent robe. It was of soft white shimmering stuff dotted all over with gilt spangles. Billows of this material fell from her shoulders in long, graceful folds, and swept away in a rippling train. A high crown of golden filigree-work was to be worn on her beautiful, fair hair, and while in one hand she was to hold a classic scroll, in the other she was to carry aloft a long, slender, gilt trumpet. The costume was superb, and almost took Betty’s breath away when she first saw it.
“Oh, Constance,” she said, “let me try it on, do! Just for a minute! I’ll be awfully careful of it.”
Constance agreed, of course, though she secretly feared that impetuous Betty might tear the gauzy stuff.
But Betty donned it almost reverently, and then, imitating Constance’s pose, as she had seen her at rehearsal, she began:
“The Goddess of Honor I! To those who seek me I am hard to win. To those who nobly and unflinchingly do their bravest and best, I come unsummoned! I am here to-night, bearing the Chaplet of Honor, the award of Fame. To whom shall I award it? Who best deserves the greatest guerdon, the highest honor Fame can bestow? Speak, noble women of all time, speak, and claim your due!”
So often had Betty heard Constance declaim these ringing lines at rehearsal that she knew them as well as her own, and so inspired was she by the beautiful raiment she had on that her oratory was quite in spirit with the character.
“Good gracious, Betty!” said Constance, “I didn’t know you could recite so well. Try your own speech now; it’s a good chance to rehearse. But get out of that gown first. I’m terribly afraid you’ll catch it on something.”
“No, I won’t,” said Betty, stepping gingerly out of the glistening mass as it fell about her feet. “Now listen to mine.”
She recited the lines Grace Darling was supposed to speak, and so earnestly did she tell of the noble work she had done in saving life that it seemed as if the most stony-hearted of goddesses must be moved to award her the Chaplet of Honor.