Betty was gone a long time, but she did not send for Madeline, who, forgetting that the new wedding arrangement would defer packing, continued to pile candlesticks upon hats and to stuff Betty’s fresh shirt-waists into her chafing-dish and her copper teakettle, to save room. Finally a lazy mood fell upon her, and she curled up on Betty’s cushioned window-seat, to think about the picnic-wedding—how she would trim the bride’s boat, and what would be the very nicest “eats” for a wedding feast in a wood. It was to be a Wedding Feast, with capitals, Madeline decided; calling it a picnic took away the novelty and the dignity of the occasion.
“What do you think?” began Betty Wales, breaking excitedly into Madeline’s meditations. “What do you think has happened now, Madeline Ayres?”
“Paradise hasn’t burned up too, has it?” asked Madeline lazily. “Because I’m planning the loveliest features for a Paradise wedding.”
“Don’t be silly, Madeline.” Betty ungratefully ignored the promised features.
“Well, have the O’Tooles persuaded you that it’s a fatal mistake for you to abandon Montana Marie?”
“Please don’t be silly,” Betty reiterated. “It’s nothing about the wedding or about me. It’s about Harding. Mr. O’Toole is just splendid, Madeline. He’s quick-tempered and short-spoken like Mr. Morton, but he’s awfully nice. And he’s going to give Harding—well, it’s not decided what, but something perfectly splendid.”
“Oh, was that why President Wallace was so interested in your freshman?”
“Certainly not,” said Betty, with much dignity. “But I know now why President Wallace was so anxious to have her get through successfully. You know there was a lot of trouble about her entering Harding, and Mrs. O’Toole kept on insisting, because she hates to have Marie disappointed in anything. She had always bought things for her before, so she tried to buy her a chance to enter Harding without entrance conditions or any worries of that kind. Of course President Wallace refused, but he was sorry for Marie and he let her in, as he sometimes has other exceptional girls, on condition that she should keep her work strictly up to the standard. Then he was naturally anxious for her to succeed, both for her own sake and to show her mother that honest work and not money are the requirements of this college. Mr. O’Toole understood all that. He was dreadfully annoyed when he heard what his wife had done. He says if he had been President Wallace he’d have just ‘sent those fool women-folk flying.’ He thinks President Wallace has done a lot for Marie, and now he wants to ‘square up,’ as he calls it. He wants me to suggest what Harding needs, and to explain to President Wallace that this gift is entirely different from Mrs. O’Toole’s offer. That won’t be hard, since Marie is going to leave.”
“Is she?” cried Madeline, making a wry face. “Just as I’d definitely decided to use her for the heroine of my next novel!”
“Mrs. O’Toole has decided that she cares less about a title in the family than about Marie’s being happy, and as Marie never had any trouble in deciding what she couldn’t live without, she’s going to marry a nice man from Montana just as soon as she can get ready. Next fall, I suppose that will be.”