Free from school duties, Greycliff girls made plans for the coming year and threw themselves into the relief work. There were letters from somewhere in France, boxes sent and mementos received. The great drive was on in Europe and haunting fear hovered over American homes thus far untouched. Yet men, women and maids went courageously forward doing “their bit.”
Cathalina and Lilian had already made their arrangements to study in New York. Lilian was giving up her music temporarily, for she said that she did not have the heart to sing while Philip was in France. But she was continually singing, after all, in patriotic gatherings or in the hospitals.
Hilary had decided to go to the denominational school which her parents had selected. Always considering what would be to her advantage, they concluded that school life would be less distracting for her away from home, unless she really preferred to be at home and attend the excellent university in the city. But Betty wrote that her father was considering the same school for her, and that Eloise and Helen were waiting for her decision, hoping that they all might be together again. After a little correspondence, the matter was settled and the girls were greatly delighted at the prospect.
Pauline Tracy and Juliet Howe were to attend a western state university miles and miles away from any of the girls they knew,—so they wrote.
Virginia Hope’s application for a school near her home was successful. Poor Isabel, perhaps, would have the most lonely time. All the older Hunt boys were in the army now, even Jim, who had shared the fatherly responsibility for discipline and finances. It was Isabel’s form of service to stay at home, put as much cheer as possible into the house, for the sake of the two younger boys, Aunt Helen and her father, and take up again the friendships of the home town. To this end Isabel was bending all her energies when school opened for the rest in September.
About this time, the first round robin spread its wings, carrying epistles somewhat brief on this first flight, and flew with surprising speed from one to another, because the girls knew that a quick report of where they all were was needed. Betty, who started it before she left home for school, wrote across the top of her first page, in large capitals, “Procrastination is the thief of time,” and under this, in smaller but heavily underscored letters, “Do It Now.”
The girls followed her advice and wrote without delay, before the freshness of the news had been lost.
When this round robin reached Betty again, it had grown much in size. Taking out her first letter, she replaced it with another and started the robin anew. But it was delayed this time. Things were happening. The war was being won, the armistice came, Christmas time, soldiers coming home—what wonder that girls found little time to write to each other in this fashion. Betty and Cathalina wrote often, and Lilian heard regularly from Hilary; but three weeks after Betty had handed the round robin to Hilary she inquired for it, to find that it was in Helen’s portfolio.
Hilary had been writing a theme and was late in handing the letters to Eloise. Eloise was to sing at a recital, and Helen had just forgotten it. Such is sometimes the fate of round robins! By the time the letters reached Pauline and Juliet, it was nearly time for the Christmas vacation, and when they arrived in New York the March days were on, many of the soldier boys at home, and life changing very fast for some of the Greycliff girls.
“Round robin coming home again,” said Hilary, as she threw the fat envelope in Betty’s lap one spring day. “Let’s all read it together.”