CHAPTER XV
GAY'S POPULARITY BEGINS
When Gay's challenge, "Do I look like a girl of refinement?" was flung back at Miss Linn, following as it did one of the most extraordinary scenes of which a girl was ever the heroine, it was indeed marvelous that it did not reveal him in his true colors. But everybody seemed to be blind, unreasoning, stupid. It was a mystery that the prowess of the valiant disposer of the boyish robbers was not speedily traced to its real origin, that of sex. Gay's conversation, liberally interspersed as it was with slang, was enough in itself to proclaim him a lively, wide-awake boy. Speech, actions, and bearing all pointed in one direction, but Gay's audience permitted their vision to be obscured by—petticoats.
It was not strange that the gentle, unworldly occupants of Rose Cottage were, at first, misled. They had invited a girl; and a girl, as far as outward garb could make one, had arrived. At Cedarville a similar misconception had occurred. With a single exception no one dreamed that the twins had exchanged roles and clothes. Miss Maud Berkeley, alone, regarded Gay with suspicion.
As a matter of fact, after exchanging clothes each acted his or her part with freedom from disguise that made their success the more marked. Gay and May had ceased to regard their position as enviable; it was no longer a "lark" to masquerade in each other's clothes, but trained from infancy to self-reliance and self-restraint, they were capable of much endurance, even in a mistaken cause. Already they were looking forward to their release; the delicate girl not more eagerly than the strong boy.
After Gay's reply to his aunt, a council of war, at which he was not present, was held in the drawing-room at Rose Cottage. The minister confined his efforts to indorsing Miss Celia's sentiments, notwithstanding the fact that that lady, whose heart was with the culprit, but whose judgment was with the council, contradicted herself constantly. It was the doctor's wife who suggested surrounding Gay with girls as a means of conventionalizing him!
"Invite girls of her own age here; it is the only thing that will do any good," said she positively.
"I'll do it," said Miss Linn. "I will give a party at once to introduce May to the girls here."
Then, with the minuteness of detail that characterizes the discussions of persons who lead uneventful lives, these good people planned the festivity that was formally to introduce the young rogue to the Hazelnook girls.
The next event of the day following the skirmish under the pear tree was Gay's receipt of a letter from his father. It was written, of course, to the real May, and while reading it, the mock May experienced a sharp twinge of conscience. It was so unconsciously condemnatory in its entire confidence that it made Gay really unhappy—for a moment.
The letter was brief.