“You have talked to her, then, about this?”
“Yes. I have seen the pictures of her parents, too. Her father makes me think of you. Once I would have said that they had ‘quite intelligent faces,’ I suppose!”
“Life has a great way of taking down our ‘superiority complexes,’ Sidney, but it is just as well to keep our self-respect.”
“That is what Shirley said. She lives almost in the university there, I suppose, and hears faculty conversation,—perhaps as elevating as ours, Daddy!”
Sidney laughed as she spoke, and her father agreed that there were opportunities for culture in other circles except their own. More nonsense of comparisons followed, while Sidney wrote in the sand with a stick and Mr. Thorne tossed an occasional pebble. Then he rose and held a hand to Sidney. “Come, now,” he said. “I told your mother that I was not going to be home until late. I want to take you far enough away to get all the cobwebs and kinks out of your brain and then we shall stop somewhere for the best dinner that we can find. Please try to have a few care-free hours with an old daddy that is very fond of his child.”
“I can do it,” gratefully cried Sidney, “but you mixed your figures terribly when you talked about cobwebs and kinks!”
CHAPTER XX.
AT LAST.
For the girls of Westlake the rest of the year went on wings. Sidney Thorne told Shirley, in one of their whirlwind conferences, that she was living a dream most of the time, and Shirley said that she felt that way, too.
Sidney had the chief part in the Shakespearean play which the seniors were giving, under a Miss Gibson whose girls were more appreciative and loyal since Sidney had changed her attitude. Sidney’s part as heroine was of some consolation to her injured pride, but she resolutely refrained from any directions to others, or any remarks which could be at all construed as self-congratulatory. “Sidney isn’t as cocky as she used to be,” was the inelegant comment of the blunt Stella.
There were beach parties, jaunts in the launch, rowing and even swimming in Lake Michigan’s still chilly waters. Shirley regretted leaving the beautiful place with its fine teachers, its fun and the dear girls that were, some of them, to be life-long friends. “You will be visiting Hope and Caroline and me in Chicago,” Sidney reminded her. “I am wanting you very much this summer, though I’ve hardly had time to think about it. We’ll just be in the Wisconsin cottage, Shirley, the greater part of the summer; but Mother says that I may have anybody that I want. When are your father and mother coming home?”