BETTY LEE, SENIOR

While settings and activities for this Betty Lee High School Series have been freely taken from a real city high school, the characters are entirely fictitious. It is hoped, however, that they may to some degree present the life and ambitions of the very attractive girls whom it has been the author’s pleasure to meet there.

CHAPTER I VACATION DAYS

Betty Lee’s vacation before her senior year cannot be passed over with only casual mention, for it was the “best yet” as declared by Betty and her two closest chums, Kathryn Allen and Carolyn Gwynne. After the last exciting activities of June days as juniors and the pleasing freedom from examinations won by good scholarship, the three girls found themselves, with others of their class, equipped with cards that certified completion of the junior work. Before them stretched long weeks when, Betty said, they “didn’t have to know anything,” and that state of mind obviously gave them all great pleasure.

Up in the girls’ gym, almost vacant now, they took a last swing and jump, as they happened to have reason to pass through; and Betty and Carolyn performed a few funny steps to express their happy state of mind before they finally left halls to which they would be just as glad to return in the fall.

However, Betty was expecting to swim in “something beside pools and rivers.” She gave a little skip as they ran down the walk toward the Gwynne car, which this time was waiting for them. “I can’t believe it, Carolyn! ‘Are I’ really going with you to the seashore? I never saw the ocean but once, when I went East with Father, you know. I said appropriately, ‘Roll on thou deep and dark blue ocean roll,’ but it wasn’t dark blue a bit. It happened to be a perfectly horrid gray morning. It was wonderful, all the same.”

“Oh, but you ought to see it sometimes, Betty! I hope we’ll have good weather, no cold ‘nor’easters’ or anything. But I’m as excited as can be myself. Think of it, Betty—a perfectly new cottage in a different place this time. Daddy had such a good chance to sell the old one and we may buy this if we like it. But we’re renting it for the summer.”

“It doesn’t seem right that we should just visit you,” said Kathryn.

“Listen! We’ve had that out before, Gypsy Allen. I’m to have my own room and I can have whomever I want—all summer. I expect to keep it full! That’s my reward for being a good girl and getting my lessons, in spite of, well, you know how hard it is to get ’em.”

“We do!” said Kathryn and Betty, “una cum voce.”

“So,” continued Carolyn, “why shouldn’t I have the girls I like best as long as I can induce—them—to—stay?” Carolyn uttered formally the last part of her sentence, with her head in the air and a high and mighty look.

The girls giggled as they settled themselves in the car. “Drive around to Kathryn’s and Betty’s first, please,” said Carolyn to the Gwynne chauffeur, “then home.”

Betty had not had a chance to call up home since Carolyn had invited her and Kathryn “to come out and celebrate.” Both she and Kathryn wanted to get rid of certificates and books, not to mention certain other articles that seemed to persist in staying in lockers. Carelessness or forgetting had nothing to do with that, of course.

“Do you like clams and chowders and things, Betty Lee?” asked Carolyn, after the last stop and delivery of goods, with pleasant permissions to stay at Carolyn’s.

“I liked everything we tried at New York,” replied Betty, “and I know that I’ll just adore all the sea food.”

“You’re going to get it,” Carolyn leaned back against the cushions and stretched forward her stylishly shod toes. “We have beach parties and everything.”

That sounded delightful. Betty had never heard of a beach party. Yet, she supposed she must have read of them in stories. But this was different. She was going to be in one. “And I haven’t told you one delicious secret!”

“Oh, tell us, Carolyn!” Kathryn spoke beseechingly.

Carolyn laughed and looked mysterious. “I haven’t decided whether to keep it a secret and surprise you, or to tell you now.”

“Tell us now,” urged beaming Kathryn.

“Maybe it would be more of a thrill if she surprised us,” Betty suggested, smilingly regarding Carolyn and wondering what the surprise or secret might be.

“Well,” Carolyn drawled, “I’ll have to make up my mind about it. The trouble is, you might find out about it some other way, and then I’d miss the fun of seeing you surprised.”

“That gives us our cue for going right up in the air over whatever it is, Betty—to please Carolyn!” But Kathryn was regarding Carolyn affectionately as she said this.

“Suppose you give us a hint of what it is and let us guess,” said Betty.

Carolyn shook her head negatively. “Spoil it all. Maybe I’ll announce it later. We are going to have our lunch inside, find the coolest spot in the house to talk over our plans and decide what to take and so on, as you wanted to do, Betty, and then have our dinner a la picnic under the trees by the fountain, nothing but cool lemonade and ice cream!”

It was a hot day, but Betty knew there would be more on the menu than lemonade and ice cream, which would probably be included in their lunch. Oh, it was always so nice at Carolyn’s!

In Carolyn’s own room after lunch the girls took off frocks and shoes and lay on the bed to plan for their month together at the seashore. Not that it was the only topic of conversation, for school affairs were too recently over for dismissal. Lucia Coletti’s departure for Italy with her father and mother was one interesting subject.

“Yes,” said Betty, “they were awfully rushed at the last, you know, but Lucia called me up, just before they were driving to the station, to say another goodbye. I would have gone to the station with her, only under the circumstances it didn’t seem appropriate. You know how it is, and Lucia and I had had our final visit before.”

“Don’t you go and think more of Lucia than you do of us,” reminded Kathryn with, a grin.

“Couldn’t,” laughed Betty, “but Lucia is a fine girl just the same; and she had to have some friends, didn’t she?”

“Yes, more than she wanted of some sorts,” wisely said Carolyn.

“They naturally would have a good deal of attention,” said Betty. “I was the first girl Lucia knew. But Lucia will not forget any of us. The countess is prettier than ever and they are all so perfectly happy to be together again. The count rather wanted to go back before, but Lucia persuaded them to wait till she could finish her work. It was a good thing she didn’t have to stay for the examinations.”

“Do you have any idea, Betty, that she will come back for her senior year?”

“Not in the least,” said Betty, to whom the recent romantic situation at the Murchison home had appealed greatly. “Lucia would like to finish the course here, and I think Countess Coletti would like to have her do it. But Lucia was too excited about going back home to think much about returning. She promised to write and I gave her all the addresses, and dates, I would have this summer.”

Neither Kathryn nor Carolyn would ever ask Betty questions that would pry into Lucia’s secrets, though Betty knew that there had been a great deal of comment over the count’s long absence in travel and the fact that the countess had remained in America with Lucia for so long. Betty herself would never betray Lucia’s worried confidences, and now it was so easy to speak of the happy reunion that she had herself seen and to pass over anything else she might know. Betty had learned by this time not to tell everything she knew to everybody.

But she frankly went on to say that she, too, had a piece of news which she could tell now. “It’s a real happy one, girls. Mr. Murchison has gone East with them and they will go to some place in Connecticut for his wedding! He is marrying somebody that he has known for a long time and they are all going abroad together. That is why Father has to be very busy this summer and has a lot on his hands.”

“My, what a disappointment to several people here!” exclaimed Kathryn. “Oh, I oughtn’t to say that, I suppose.”

“I gathered, from what Lucia said, that her mother is real pleased with her brother’s choice and knows the lady. And it is fixed all right for Rose Sevilla and her mother to stay just as they are at Murchison’s. Rose is awfully busy with new draperies and things that the countess ordered for her brother; and her mother actually looks younger and talks about when Ramon comes back.”

“Is there any news of him at all?”

“Not a bit, but they have a little hope now. It just makes me sick that I didn’t find out about them in time to send him word before he left Detroit! But he’ll turn up some time, I hope—unless the ‘villain’ finds him and does something terrible. They didn’t tell the mother about the villain’s having tried to find out from Father.”

Under the trees, not far from the fountain, in the midst of all the attractions of the lovely Gwynne estate, the three girls at a little table had their dinner alone, “a la picnic,” as Carolyn had said, and cool salad, an ice, lemonade and fruit did compose a good and refreshing part of it.

The girls dawdled over their meal and wondered why they felt so “lazy.” “It’s the weather, girls,” said Carolyn. “I’m glad we’re through school—though I believe I’ve said that several times. But don’t expect me to be original!”

“It’s not only the weather, Carolyn. We’re just sort of let down about everything. I imagine that the sea air will revive us, won’t it?”

“Yes, Gypsy, if we need reviving by that time.”

Conversation ran on by fits and starts. Daylight began to fade and little fireflies flashed their lanterns here and there in the shrubbery or the lower branches of the trees. It was decided that nothing was “so rare as a day in June” if this one had been rather too warm, and finally Kathryn inquired if Carolyn had made up her mind in regard to the great surprise.

“Sure enough, girls!” cried Carolyn. “I believe I have made up my mind! I’ll tell you!”

Betty assumed a thrilled expression, clasped her hands together tragically and leaned forward in pretended suspense, not so deeply pretended, either, for she knew that any surprise so regarded by Carolyn Gwynne would be “nice.”

“Don’t be silly,” laughed Carolyn, while Kathryn clutched her black hair with one hand and held the other to her heart.

“It’s about some very splendid people who are going to be in a cottage—oh, not so very far away. The cottages are scattered up there, you know.”

Kathryn put both hands to her head now. “Let me think, Carolyn! Who said she was going to the coast?”

“Never mind thinking, Gypsy. It might be dangerous. You know how unaccustomed exercise——”

Carolyn was obliged to break off as laughing Kathryn leaned over to threaten violence.

But at last the news was told. “The Waites have taken a cottage there and Marcella is going up about the time we do, I think.”

“How fine!” cried Kathryn. “Betty—‘the Pirate of Penzance!’”

But Betty was already thinking of that romantic youth, Marcia Waite’s brother. “Will the Pirate be on hand?” she asked, after her first pleased exclamation at the news.

“Very likely,” impressively said Carolyn.

“He will not mean much in our young lives, Kathryn,” continued Betty, “if he was awfully nice to us at Marcella’s party and other places. He is all grown up and at just the age when they have terrible cases in college.”

“Who knows?” sang Carolyn, “but he seemed to like you, Betty. However, I’d advise you to stick to our friend Chet. There aren’t any boys nicer than the Dorrance boys.”

Betty assented to that but added that when Chet went into the university the next year there would probably be an end of good times with him. “It will be a case of saying farewell, and Chet will be the one to do it, you see. But it will be simply grand to have Marcella there, somebody we know; and she will be having company, too, I suppose. Honestly, Carolyn, I can scarcely wait to go!”

“That wasn’t intended as a pun, I suppose, since there’s no point in it. But the Waites will be waiting, all right. They go some time next week, perhaps a day or two before, according to what Marcella said. She said she would telephone.”

“Then there is one thing more; but I’m not going to tell this.”

“Another secret! Carolyn?”

“Another secret!”

CHAPTER II A GOLDFISH IN THE OCEAN

Betty Lee, who was sometimes jokingly called father’s little goldfish, had acquired that title by reason of her ability to swim and her golden head, though that was usually covered tightly by a rubber cap. As her taking part in most of the swimming contests among the girls of Lyon High necessitated good bathing suits, Betty was already prepared in that respect for her visit at the seashore.

Secrets were all very well. Betty had interest in everything. But her greatest interest was in the new experience ahead of her, the new country and the delights of the ocean. Her father warned her of new conditions, but she would quickly learn. Though there were no river current, there would be the undertow. Betty promised to use her common sense and swim within the boundaries allowed at the resort to which she was bound.

With the highest anticipations, then, Betty accompanied the Gwynnes and Kathryn Allen on the fascinating trip East and to New England. Dick Lee was at a boys camp. His twin, Doris, would soon be at a corresponding girls’ camp, for it “had to be fair,” at the risk, said Mr. Lee, of depleting the treasury. Mother and Amy Lou would remain in the city with Father, but would take an outing with him later, when a business trip would take him East again. Then Betty, returning from the visit with Carolyn, would meet other girl friends at a “wonderful” Girl Reserve camp. Truly the summer could offer no more! Betty’s former chum at the little town of Buxton, Janet Light, with whom Betty still corresponded fitfully, as her full life permitted, wrote Betty that she was a “lucky girl,” and Betty thought so too.

It was all the better that it was a motor trip, with the opportunity to stop in all sorts of fascinating places, little and big, where there were thrilling associations of history; and these were as much for Carolyn’s benefit as for Kathryn and Betty. There were no embarrassing and hampering ideas of obligation, for Mr. and Mrs. Gwynne had assured the Lees that their itinerary would be carried out with or without their guests. There were only the three Gwynnes, with Kathryn Allen and Betty Lee; for Carolyn’s older sister and others of the household had other plans of travel.

At the quiet places where they stopped, Betty and Kathryn were permitted to pay modest hotel bills, but that was all; and many a happy time they had lunching it on the way, with a big supply of good things, rather than stop. Mr. Gwynne, with Mrs. Gwynne to rest him at times, did the driving; for their chauffeur had left their service, very conveniently, Carolyn said, and they would not engage another until their return home. Mr. Gwynne’s type of humor made Betty think of her own father. The families were well acquainted by this time. Mr. and Mrs. Lee would take the trip to New England from New York, after business was completed, and with an excited little Amy Lou, who was, however, very dignified about it at present. Was she not going into the third grade?

Then the Lees would attach Kathryn and Betty, and possibly, as Betty hoped, Carolyn, for the return and delivery at camp. But Carolyn said that she could not go so soon. There was the pleasant pressure on the girls to stay longer, but that could be decided later on. Never was Betty to forget her first motor trip East. Apparently everybody else was going, too, or it seemed so after they had reached certain routes of traffic and travel. The Gwynnes met some old friends at different hotels, till at times there would be quite a little cavalcade of acquaintances, travelling together for a while, and there were a number of boys and girls in some of the parties.

Once they traveled for two days in company with a family whom Carolyn said they had known “summers.” Passengers in the cars were changed and the young people were together in the car newly attached to the Gwynnes. This was driven by Arthur Penrose, eldest son of the new friends, probably nineteen or so, Carolyn said, a brown-eyed, brown-haired youth, polite but friendly, though he said less, engaged in driving, than a younger brother, Archie, who did all the arranging in seats. Betty could not be sure at first which was “Art” and which was “Arch,” but at last she straightened it out. Their sister “Gwen” was about Betty’s age, she thought, a pretty vivacious girl, who was delighted to see Carolyn and reminded her at first about “old times” till she saw that it would be better to include the new acquaintances, doing her best to make up for temporary forgetfulness.

Betty liked Gwen at once. That was the nice thing about this traveling and you could be sure that any one the Gwynnes liked were worth knowing. They were in Connecticut at the time of this meeting and at once planned a picnic dinner, stopping here and there to purchase a heterogeneous collection, left entirely to the young people to manage. “Have your picnic,” Mr. Gwynne said, “but don’t expect us to do any cavorting around over it.” Mr. and Mrs. Penrose and a sister of Mrs. Penrose occupied the room left by the three girls in the Gwynne car, though there was some shifting; for the men must talk over affairs and the ladies must be together.

What Betty did not know at all this time was that the Penroses had come into her life to stay there. But those things happen in the most casual meetings.

The Penrose car was a seven-passenger car and at first Arthur drove by himself while Archie and Gwen did the honors behind. Then Art complained whimsically that he was being left out; and in some way Betty found herself elected to sit in front with the driver, a move which pleased her, with its view of the “Blue Hills,” where they were now, and less necessity of talking; for they could listen to the rest or talk as they liked.

But Arthur’s “nice” face was turned to her often, as he called attention to some scene or made some other comment. Betty told him how it had happened that she took the trip, where they were going, what a thrill she had over it and how she enjoyed seeing everything.

“I suppose I notice the scenery more particularly since I want to be an artist,” said Arthur Penrose. “They tell me that ‘Art’ is the proper name for me, though Archie makes fun and says he’ll have to support his artistic brother in the years to come.”

Arthur’s face was full of amusement as he said this. “But I am already doing a little in commercial art lines, so perhaps it is not so bad.”

“How wonderful!” cried Betty, interested. “I wish I knew more about it. I draw a little. We have an art course in school, you know, but I like music best—just play the violin some. Then I like athletics, not so much the competitive games, you know, but swimming and skating and riding, that is I’m going to have lessons in that next year. I can ride in the country, though. Are you in college?”

“Yes, but it may be a waste of time for me to finish. We have to decide that. I am taking art on the side, but I want to go to a regular art school, and next summer, if I can raise the cash, I’m going to walk or swim to Europe and see what the big guys have done.”