Elaine looked at her sister furtively, and something she saw in Grace's face made her heart flutter with a glad expectancy so keen as to be almost pain. Grace's brow was knit, and her face was pale, visible signs of an inner battle. Elaine breathed hard, guessing the tremendous importance of the struggle, and the significance of victory.
"I've grounds for being very angry," Mr. Clement went on with his whimsical smile. "When the three of you disappeared without a word or sign, I was hurt, and many of your friends felt as I did. I tried to make myself think that you would write me soon, but the weeks and months went by, and not a line from any of you. I had a right to be angry, and I was. However, I'm not a man to continue bringing up old scores. We'll call it square, Grace, if you'll close with my offer. What do you say? Is it a bargain?"
His compelling eyes were on her. For a moment he looked less like Santa Claus than some old viking, fearless of tempestuous seas, accustomed to conquest. As Grace's troubled gaze met his a curious change was apparent in her face, as if a spark of his resolution had fired hers.
"I'll--I'll do it, Mr. Clement," she faltered, and checked herself quickly, as if frightened by the rashness of her own promise. But Mr. Clement gave her no time for wavering.
"Done!" he cried, and catching the frail hand in his he shook it heartily. "And this spring and summer devote yourself to getting a little color, and putting a few pounds of flesh wherever you need them most. If you're not careful, this little sister of yours will be putting on airs, and ordering you about just because she's the biggest."
It was not early when Mr. Clement left, but, in spite of the lateness of the hour, Elaine yielded to an overwhelming desire to see Peggy. It was to Peggy alone that she had confided her great unhappiness, and it seemed to her that she could not sleep unless Peggy had heard the good news, the wonderful sequel to the incident which had made the close of the previous week eventful.
Elaine framed some excuse for a late call on Peggy which she herself had forgotten as soon as the door shut behind her, and made her way across the dewy grass. Overhead the stars twinkled in friendly fashion. The splendid winter constellations had given place to the less showy pageant of the summer, but it flashed across Elaine's mind that she had never before dreamed there were so many stars. The sky seemed golden with them. Peggy, upstairs in her own room, struggling with an essay due the end of the week, looked up amazed at an Elaine to whom she had never been introduced. For the new stars which Elaine had seen flashing in the sky, were only reflected from her shining eyes. Her radiant face prepared Peggy for the best news that could be spoken.
"O, Peggy! What do you think? Grace is going back to college."
"To college!" Peggy's sympathy was never of the half-hearted sort. Now the two words fairly tinkled as she spoke them, as if Elaine had announced some tremendous good fortune which had befallen Peggy herself.
"An old friend of papa's, Mr. Clement, is going to send her. And, O, Peggy, another old friend, Mrs. Winthrop, called up while we were eating supper. She had seen that account in the paper and was so sweet about it. I'm afraid that perhaps we weren't just fair to the people we used to know. Perhaps they were better friends than we thought."