“Oh, no. They couldn’t. They have so many things to get ready, and there’s the drill, you know. We’ll be taken there, and when we get our wraps off and all our little locks in place we’ll go down to the big reception hall and the officers and cadets will be there in all their glory. Dorothy told me all about how they do.”
“It will be different from any party or reception I ever attended.”
“Yes, just imagine how the old colonel—the commandant—will look in his uniform. He is a real officer in the United States army, Donald said, and he looks a general at least.”
Miss Randolph confided to Miss West that she would be glad when the military reception was over, for the girls could not think of much else. Lessons did not suffer much, but in hours of recreation there was scarcely any other topic of conversation. To tell the truth, even Miss Randolph had a new gown for the occasion. She could not be too much of a contrast to the uniformed commandant she said, by way of excuse.
Cathalina’s school clothes had been very simple, but now her mother was permitting her to have a few very beautiful frocks, not made in any extreme style, but of exquisite material and suited to the pretty young woman which Cathalina was becoming. For the Greycliff girls were growing up. At times they seemed like little school girls together. Again they were interested young women, ambitious for the different lines of study in which they were engaged. Both Betty and Cathalina were taking a course in designing. Lilian was working hard at her violin, keeping up the voice lessons, but being careful not to sing too much nor strain the young voice. Hilary was earnestly preparing herself for university life and further study beyond, she hoped. Yet, at this age, no very definite future was shaped for any of them. The mysterious Prince Charming was a shadowy possibility, and not so shadowy of late in some cases.
At last the military reception was at hand. Silken frocks and sashes, shining slippers and dainty fans were in evidence. “Are you going to put on your white kid gloves now?” asked Cathalina, beginning to gather up her lace handkerchief, fan and other small appurtenances as the time to leave Greycliff Hall approached.
“Mercy, no,” replied Betty. “They would all be soiled before we got there. We’ll put them on just before we go down stairs at the school. I’m slipping on these dark ones and will leave them in the pocket of my coat. What do you think, Hilary—can’t we wear our slippers, or shall we take our slipper bags?”
“The weather is all right and we are going to ride every step of the way, after we once get in the ’bus. I’m not going to bother with mine. My, but your evening coat is pretty, Cathalina. You have every little perfection in your toilet. Did you hear Isabel’s story?”
“No. I heard her chatting to you as you dressed, though.”
“Louise Holley came in and asked Olivia if she had any white kid gloves. Olivia said ‘Yes,’ and when Louise asked if she could borrow them, Olivia brought them out and was going to give them to her, thought she had to. You know what a generous soul she is.”