“My ‘attic’ has been quite warm,” said he, “but I have studied and read in different cool spots, attended my law classes and have filled up my time in other ways.”
Cathalina knew that he was doing something to help make his way, but she did not refer to that. She thought that he looked worn and wished that she might put a little cheer into his dull days. Cathalina was learning much sympathy, as she began to realize the responsibilities that some of her friends had to carry. The old self-centered little girl that knew nothing of life’s serious interests had long since disappeared.
Richard North was becoming acquainted with pretty, plump, fair Louise Van Ness, with Emily, and, of course, with the vivacious Ann Maria.
Nan Van Ness was the cousin of Cathalina’s age who used to copy Ann Maria, whom she greatly admired, as younger girls do admire the older ones sometimes. But Nan, now, had been away to school herself, and like Cathalina, had become interested in many things on her own account. She and Betty were having great fun with Lawrence Haverhill and Robert Paget. Rosalie Haverhill had not come.
It was “a nice party,” as Lilian said to herself, and she wondered why she could not seem to enjoy it more, for Lilian was a gay-hearted girl, at the head of most of the fun among her chums at school. In her heart she knew that it was the relation of Ann Maria to Phil that troubled her. But she went right on, taking part in all the visiting and fun. By chance she was with Louise and Ann Maria when the cooling ices and pretty cakes and fresh fruit were served and Philip himself waited on both her and Ann Maria, with the same courtesy to both!
“He is that way with all the girls,” she thought. “His attention to me hasn’t meant a thing. His ‘musical wife,’ indeed! Ann Maria plays, and I sing.” Lilian was thinking of Philip’s conversation in the pine grove at camp, when he “seemed so serious,” spoke of planning for a musical wife, and first asked her to write to him. And now jealousy whispered that it had not been earnest. All this ran through her mind while she talked to the girls, told of their most thrilling experiences in camp, and laughed with the rest. Ann Maria did not stay all night, as Cathalina had urged her to do. No, indeed. She handed her wraps to Philip to put on for her, and Philip took her home. To be sure, there were others in the car, Campbell, Emily, Louise and Nan, but Ann Maria sat in front with Phil, who drove. And Lilian did not know that Philip had asked his mother if he might not take Lilian, too. “You may, but it isn’t best,” Mrs. Van Buskirk had answered. “Since all the girls can’t go, you’d better not ask any of them.”
The days were few for all the good times. There was so much of the city to be seen, lunches to be taken in odd places, drives here and there, an entertainment or two on Broadway, a dinner at the Stuarts’, and as a climax the “real party.” For this, each lass had a lad, each lad a lass to escort to the tables for the elaborate meal served by Watta and a capable group of waiters. As Mrs. Van Buskirk had decided that there would be time to issue invitations, they had been sent out to all the more intimate circle of Cathalina’s and Philip’s friends.
Philip insisted that he was to have Lilian. Hilary, of course, was assigned to Campbell. Their friendship proceeded on its calm and apparently unsentimental way, but Campbell was there and with Hilary as much of the time as possible. There was quite a discussion between Cathalina and her mother about Captain Van Horne.
“Now, Mother dear,” said Cathalina, “if Captain Van Horne is invited for Emily or Louise, he’ll have to go for her, send her flowers, I suppose, and he hasn’t any car, and I would be right here, and it would be all right if he did not think of flowers.”
Her mother laughed. “You are greatly concerned, Cathalina.”