“It is a secret,” Gale said promptly. “You shan’t any of you know until you see me there.”
“Ah, that isn’t fair!” the others complained.
“But it will give you something to look forward to,” Gale laughed.
To tell the truth she didn’t know. Bruce might ask her. He usually took her to the school dances but she—she wanted to ask Brent but she was a little afraid. Afraid he would refuse and then she would be hurt. She hadn’t seen much of him since her return to Marchton. He had gone to Washington the day after and had not yet returned; if, she added to herself, he intended to return.
When the others teased her she remained silent. A mysterious smile was all the reply she would give them.
The girls gave no thought to the classes they would have tomorrow while they were enjoying themselves and it was late when they finally bid Gale a sleepy good night. After a little straightening up Gale crept away to her own room but not to sleep. She brought out her books and tackled the lessons which she found difficult. During her absence the classwork had gone forward and now she was hard pressed to make up for lost time.
Soon, however, the pencil dropped from her fingers and she stared out the window to where the winter moon floated easily through the clouds. She thought of Antoinette and sighed. It had been very hard to part from the French friends she had made. She missed the three in the little Canadian cottage more than anyone knew. Especially she missed the sweet friendly presence of the girl and her romps with Toto. She missed the cold nights in the bright moonlight when she had tramped in the snow. Here she could not go out walking when she felt like it. Her parents and friends would think her insane if she should go for a walk late at night. There would never be the same freedom here that there had been in Canada for that short time.
Gale yawned and closed her history book. She could not cram another sentence into her head tonight. Her eyes burned and felt heavy. She took deep breaths of the cool air that drifted in the window but she did not feel refreshed.
Upon a sudden decision she took her woolly coat from her closet and on tiptoe crept into the hall and down the stairs. At every creak of the steps she held her breath lest her Mother call her. She didn’t propose to do anything wrong, but she felt she must get away from the house, away from the books and studies that were becoming more and more difficult, from the worry of her examinations which was beginning to have a smothering effect on her.
Dry leaves rustled beneath her feet as she went down the path to the street. There she turned in the direction of the bay. At the tiny wharf she seated herself on a deserted soap box and gazed out over the gentle swell of waves. A huge blot in the darkness was the island. Beyond that lashed the heavy ocean waves. She could hear the roar of the surf even at this distance. She sniffed appreciatively and felt the spell of depression that had enveloped her lifting.