Tabitha at Ivy Hall

by Ruth Brown MacArthur

"I had forgotten," laughed Tabitha, looking foolish, and hastily tearing open the letter in her lap. Then the rosy color in her cheeks paled, her eyes grew big with amazement, and her breath came in quick gasps. "Dad sent them," was all she said, and as if doubting the truth of her own statement, she read again the last paragraph of the busy brother's brief note:

"This is a poor apology for a letter, Puss, but if I get it off in this next mail I haven't time for anything lengthy. I suppose by this time you have received the book I mailed you yesterday, and I hope the big surprise arrives in season to help you enjoy Christmas Day. What do you think! Dad stopped at Reno on his way back from another trip East, and he called on me to go shopping with him this morning. He himself selected the dress, but deferred to my notions in regard to the other frills, so if they don't suit, blame me. I noticed that most of the girls in Reno were wearing those fuzzy hats, so at my suggestion Dad got one to match your dress. I thought you would prefer a brown suit, but he wanted blue, and blue it is. I showed him around town and took him through the college buildings, and when he was gone I found fifty dollars in greenbacks on my dresser—my Christmas gift from him."

Tabitha slowly folded the paper, dropped it down into the box with its precious gifts, and lifting her shining eyes to the faces of her curious mates, she whispered softly, "I think I am perfectly happy!"

"And so are we," cried Chrystobel impulsively. "This has been the loveliest Christmas vacation I can remember. I wouldn't have missed staying here for anything."

"Nor I!" echoed Grace and Vera in the same breath, while Carrie and Bertha smiled their happiness.

Then came the grand dinner, and after that the games. They danced, they sang, they played everything they could think of, they messed in the kitchen, bribing the cook to surrender her domains to them for a candy pull, they inveigled the stately principal and shy Miss Summers into their romps, and how they did enjoy every minute of the gala day! But like all other days, it came to an end at last, and as the laughing group of weary merrymakers climbed the wide stairway at the bedtime hour, Carrie, who had lingered a moment behind the others in the hall below, bounded up the steps, calling excitedly, "Oh, girls, Miss Pomeroy says we don't have to sleep in our own rooms tonight, but can pair off any way we want to, and sleep wherever we choose. Isn't that great fun? Whom will you take, Puss?"

Tabitha stopped abruptly on the stairs. "Oh, I can have Carrie all to myself tonight," she thought to herself, but as she opened her lips to speak, she saw Chrystobel's eyes fixed wistfully upon her own, and suddenly there rose before her a vision of her room-mate's self-sacrifice in electing to spend the holidays at school when she knew what pleasures would have been hers at her own beautiful home. She hesitated, looked at Carrie's eager face, read the longing in Bertha's eyes, saw its reflection in Grace and Vera, and answered, "I choose all of you. What are you going to do about it?"

"Draw lots, you dear little Christmas queen!" cried Bertha promptly. "You are the most popular girl in school, Kitty Catt. Just see how we fight over you! Here are some slips of paper from our guessing game. Take your turn. The two longest, the two middle and the two shortest are mates."

There on the stairs they drew their fate—Tabitha and Chrystobel, Grace and Bertha, Carrie and Vera. Then with a merry laugh over the result, they linked arms and marched up to bed, with one exception a little disappointed, perhaps, but happy nevertheless.

The lights went out, five pair of sleepy eyes closed in slumber, the great city grew still, but Tabitha lay awake in her narrow bed looking up into the star-lit sky with bright, sparkling, happy eyes which held no trace of sorrow or longing, as she whispered reverently: