“I am very fond of that music anyway, and out under the trees and stars it sounded particularly sweet. Goodnight, girls, I am glad that I am to have some more of Greycliff’s entertainment.”
CHAPTER XIV
GREYCLIFF GIRLS TAKE FLIGHT
The next day was a blessed one of rest, for it was not hard to go to the chapel and listen to the sermon for them and for the seniors of the academy. Aunt Hilary and the other guests watched with great interest the procession of girls in their white dresses, as they took their places in the front rows. The choir of girls sang their favorite anthems and led in the good old hymns which were so often called for at Greycliff.
“Four years at Greycliff,” thought Cathalina, and wondered what the next one would bring, for she was facing possible changes. Her thoughts ran to her brother and cousins and one fine soldier in France, from whom she had not heard for a long time.
“Four years at Greycliff,” thought Hilary. “How kind of Aunt Hilary to make it possible. Now two years of college, somewhere, perhaps at one of our church schools, perhaps at home, if Mother does not want me to go away. If—” Hilary’s thoughts, too, ran on, to a certain soldier boy who might want her some day to make a home with him, if he came back,—and perhaps it would be as well to stay with Mother and Father.
Many, many thoughts came to these girls, so fair and so young, looking forward to the fulfillment of dreams even in that sad year.
When they came down to earth after the service, Greycliff outdid herself in serving a chicken dinner beyond the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Aunt Hilary sat with the dignitaries at Miss Randolph’s table and at Hilary’s table, joy was unconfined, for Isabel had given up her seat to a visitor and occupied a chair next to Lilian. Lilian, too, had thrown off care for the day, sparkling as Lilian could when her mood was gay. Her shining hair was piled high, one little bit of short down curling in her neck. On her arms was the bracelet Philip had given her, and on her neck his latest gift, a delicate chain with a jeweled lavaliere, of a pattern then most popular. The engagement ring was on her finger, and all together, according to Isabel, Lil presented a picture of a “fine lady with jewels.”
“Do you think I have too much on, Isabel?” asked Lilian, rather taken back by Isabel’s careless remark. “I love to wear them,—you know why.”
“And we love to see them,” returned Isabel. “I beg your pardon; I wasn’t criticising.”
“Let’s arrange about the round robin,” said Betty. “I can’t stand it not to know about all you girls, and never can write regularly to so many. It will be much easier to pass on the letters. Then if we want to write any oftener to any one we can. Meanwhile the history of the chief events can be going the rounds.”