"Oh, you girls may laugh, but you had to walk a chalk line under the eyes of a half dozen chaperones every minute. Lily and I got acquainted with our friends."
"Well, I hope we did have a chaperone or two," was Polly's retort. She had vivid memories of some of the scenes upon which she and Ralph had inadvertently blundered during the afternoon informals of Christmas week. The auditorium in the academic building where informals are held, has many secluded nooks. Upon one occasion she had run upon Helen and Paul Ring, the former languishing in the latter's arms. Perhaps mamma would not have been so ready to intrust her dear little daughter to Foxy Grandpa's protection had she dreamed of the existence of Mamma Ring and dear Paul.
At all this sentimental enthusiasm Stella had looked on indulgently and now laughed outright, "What silly kids you two are," she said.
"Well, I don't see that you had such a ravishing time, anyway," cried Helen.
"Why, I'm sure Mr. Allyn was as attentive as anyone could be. He was on hand every minute to take me wherever I wanted to go." Stella's expression was quizzical and made Helen furious.
"Oh, a paid guide could have done as much I don't doubt."
"Father is a little fussy at times, so perhaps it is just as well. You see I should not have been at Severndale at all if he had not been called to Mexico on business. So I'd better be thankful for what fun I did get. But there goes the first bell. Better get down toward the dining-room, girls," laughed Stella good-naturedly, and set the example. A moment later the room was deserted by all but Helen who lingered at the mirror. When the others were on their way down stairs she slipped to Nelly's room and took from her desk a sheet of the monogram paper and an envelope, which Mrs. Harold had given her at Christmas. As she passed her own room she hid them in her desk for future use. After dinner when the evening mail was delivered, Helen received a letter bearing the Annapolis postmark. Nelly had one from her father. As she read it her face wore a peculiar expression. The letter stated that her father was coming to Washington to consult with Shelby concerning a matter of business connected with Severndale's paddock. As Nelly ceased reading she glanced up from her letter to find Peggy watching her narrowly. Peggy had also received a letter from Dr. Llewellyn in which he mentioned the fact that Bolivar felt it advisable to run down to Washington. In an instant the whole situation flashed across Peggy's quick comprehension.
During the girl's visit at Severndale Jim Bolivar had never come to the house. Nelly had many times slipped away for quiet little talks with her father in their own cottage and had asked him more than once why he did not come up to the big house to see her, and his reply had invariably been:
"Honey, I don't belong there. No, 'tain't no use to argue,—I don't. Your mother would have; she come of quality stock, and what in the Lord's name she ever saw in me I've been, a-guessin' an' a-guessin' for the last eighteen year."
"But Dad, Peggy Stewart has never, never made either you or me feel the least shade of difference in our stations. Neither has Polly Howland. They couldn't be lovelier to me, though I know you have never been at Severndale as guests have been there. But it has never seemed to strike me until now. And down at the school the girls are awfully nice to me; at least, most of them are. Those who are patronizing are that way because they are so to everybody. But the really nice girls are lovely, and I am sure they'd never think of being rude to you."