“You can do this. Arrange for the show. Advertise it as being given for the purpose of founding a students’ beneficiary association. Take a third of the proceeds and start the society. Give the other two-thirds to Anna and let her distribute it privately among the girls who need it. She knows them. She can get away with it better than you can. If anyone comes down on the treasury for our little lone third we can hand it out and keep it up by private contributions until some more money is earned. I suppose you two marvelous managers will continue in the show business as long as it is profitable.”
“Your head is level, Jeremiah,” laughed Marjorie, her eyes sparkling. “That’s a good plan. I’ll see Robin tomorrow, and Anna too. Robin can begin to gather up the performers. Anna can find out for me as to how her flock are situated. I shall call the girls in tomorrow evening and ask them if they each would like to finance a student next year. Leila, Vera and Helen will like to, even if they have been graduated from Hamilton. Kathie can’t, but she will wish to help in some other way.”
“Anna Towne was my freshie catch. You may have her. I’ll scout around and find someone else,” magnanimously accorded Jerry.
Marjorie spent her leisure hours during the ensuing few days in interviewing her friends and helping Robin plan the show. With Thanksgiving only ten days off, the show would not take place until after that holiday. The girls tackled the programme, however, and completed it within three days.
Ronny was to dance twice. Marjorie had written to Constance Stevens, who had promised to sing at the revue. These two numbers were to be the features. The Silverton Hall orchestra would contribute two numbers. Leila and Vera had promised an ancient Irish contra dance in costume. Phyllis would give a violin solo. Blanche Scott would offer a grand opera selection in her best baritone voice. Ronny agreed to train eight girls in a singing and dancing number. As a wind-up, four Acasia House girls were to put on a one-act French play.
Busy with her new project, Marjorie had not forgotten Miss Susanna. The day after her visit to Hamilton Arms she had written the old lady one of her sincere, friendly notes. She had not expected a reply. Nevertheless, Miss Hamilton had returned a few lines of acknowledgment. Since then the wires of communication between them had been idle.
Marjorie regretted this. She would have liked, during the beautiful autumn weather, to walk about the grounds of Hamilton Arms with its owner. With the last leaves off the trees and the earth frost-bitten, she began to feel that Miss Susanna had not desired her further acquaintance. In passing Hamilton Arms she strained her eyes, invariably, for a sight of the old lady. She saw her but once, and at a distance.
She wondered as Thanksgiving approached what kind of Thanksgiving Miss Hamilton would have. She resolved, before leaving college for home, to write the last of the Hamiltons as cheerful a note as she could compose.
Three days before college closed for the holiday she found a letter in the Hall bulletin board in Miss Susanna’s handwriting. This letter bore the address “Wayland Hall,” and read:
“Dear Child: