GIRLS TOGETHER

BY AMY E. BLANCHARD

AUTHOR OF

"TWO GIRLS," "TWENTY LITTLE MAIDENS," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY IDA WAUGH

PHILADELPHIA

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

1900

COPYRIGHT, 1895 BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.

ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA, U.S.A.

TO MY GIRLHOOD'S BELOVED COMPANION,

JENNIE E. S.,

THE GENTLE MISTRESS OF "POSIE-COSSIE,"

I Dedicate

THIS LITTLE BOOK, WITH A LOVE THAT GROWS FROM YEAR TO YEAR.

CONTENTS. —————

CHAPTER

I.—GROWN UP

II.—UPS AND DOWNS

III.—A FLAVOR OF BOHEMIA

IV.—SETTLED DOWN

V.—JACK'S SEND-OFF

VI.—A PRIVATE VIEW

VII.—HOW ELDORADO ANN WAS SCARED

VIII.—AN OLD SONG

IX.—WHAT JACK DID

X.—A CHRISTMAS STOCKING

XI.—ARCHIE DECIDES

XII.—"UNDER GREEN APPLE-BOUGHS"

XIII.—SEPARATIONS

XIV.—ARCHIE'S CLIENT

XV.—BEFORE THE FEAST

XVI.—THE WEDDING

XVII.—AT PRESTON

XVIII.—"AS LIKE AS A HAND TO ANOTHER HAND"

XIX.—WHAT BECAME OF VAL'S PORTRAIT

XX.—AND SO—

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ———————

"As if I cared," returned Theo, turning her back to her cousin Frontispiece.

She came in one afternoon, when all were sitting on the porch

Then, with a leap, she sprang away

Then she turned towards home

"The idea of chickens at this time of year," said Val

And the work proceeded with great briskness

GIRLS TOGETHER ———————

CHAPTER I.

GROWN UP.

THE sleepy old university town had been for some days alive with the excitement attending class-day and the yearly commencement at the university.

Theo Nelson and her cousin Val Le Moyne were among the interested participants in the festivities, and none of the town's guests were having a better time; for Theo's brother, Archie, was one of the graduates, and his friends, who were all well known to the girls, were assiduous in their attentions, while in Jack Allen, Archie's special chum and classmate, the cousins felt nearly as much interest as in Archie himself, taking great pride in the honors Jack was bearing off. Even Aunt Janet Nelson was as enthusiastic as the others on this occasion; but Miss Janet was as a mother to the little group, and the interests of her "children" had been closely hers during all the years they had lived with her.

Val was standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her cousin.

"Theo, hurry!" she cried. "The boys are coming."

"Boys!" answered Theo, in a tone of scorn, as she made her appearance, drawing on her gloves. "Young men, you mean; you forget that they have received their degrees, and that they know all there is to know. They are 'sumptuously informed,' as I heard some one say yesterday."

"Yes," replied Val, laughing, "and the 'young men' are quite aware of it. Anything more lordly than Archie's tread as he walks up the street I have never seen. Do come and look, Theo: isn't he majestic?"

"Yes," answered Theo, coming to the door; "but he is a lord among lords. They all do that way at first. Come, it is late; we might as well go and meet them."

"Where is auntie?" asked Archie of his sister.

"She has gone with Mrs. Talcott and Nannie," replied Theo; "she will meet us at the house. We are quite late."

Archie consulted his watch. "Not so very," he returned; "and it is only to drink tea that we are going. It was very good of the professor to ask us; but, for my part, I should rather do something else."

Val raised her eyebrows significantly.

"Now what?" said Archie, testily. "You are so ready to pounce on a fellow, Val. What have I done?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Val, airily; "only I supposed from your general demeanor that anything less than a professor's society you could not tolerate."

"Humph!" and Archie gave vent to the exclamation in an exceedingly disgusted manner.

"Stop your squabbling, children," put in Jack Allen. "Give us a little rope, Val. We'll come down from our lofty perches soon enough; we shall forget how much we know before many months have passed."

And the party proceeded in an amiable spirit towards the university grounds.

Just before the professor's house was reached, they all stopped to look across the valley at the beautiful view spread out before them.

"I hate to leave it," said Jack, suddenly.

"I shall come back every year," declared Archie. "You'll come too, Jack?"

"I don't know," was the doubtful response.

And then the little group turned aside into the long corridor, to be greeted at one of the doorways by their hostess.

"Ah, Mr. Nelson," she said, "your aunt came long ago. We began to fear that you had at last succumbed to the pressure of all the duties that have been thrust upon you during the past week. On how many committees have you served, pray?"

"I always told Arch he was entirely too popular," remarked Jack Allen. "He will suffer for it yet, Mrs. Marshall. Are we so very late?"

"Not too late," she replied, with a smile.

And she led them in-doors to where the murmur of voices gave evidence that a company was gathered.

Miss Janet Nelson, with Nannie Talcott on one side, Gilbert Rogers on the other, and Teddy Forester leaning on the back of her chair, was laughing at the nonsensical run of talk carried on by the young people.

"Ah! There they come," announced Gilbert, catching sight of the new-comers. "The late Mr. Nelson and his party have at last arrived."

The girls made their way over to Miss Nelson, and were soon followed by Archie and Jack.

"Who do you think is here?" whispered Nannie to Theo.

"I can't imagine."

"Fly Crawford, Val's ancient enemy."

"Really? Yes; see Val's color and her haughty look. Why, Nannie, Gilbert is talking to her!"

"Yes, I know; but I believe he quite likes her. She is stopping with very nice people, you know, friends of Gilbert's, and he has had to show her some attention."

Theo looked grave, but her attention was just then turned aside, and the subject was dropped for the time being.

"Such a grown up set as I shall have about me," Miss Nelson was saying to Mrs. Marshall. "Theo and Archie have graduated this year, and Jack, too: he seems like one of us, you know. Val is my only baby: she has another year before her, at least. She rather resents being my baby, though."

Val looked up quickly. "No, not that exactly," she interposed; "but I always feel as though I were running very hard and couldn't keep up with the others. I seem to remind myself of those little children who are always tagging behind the older ones, especially when Archie is so superior," glancing mischievously at her cousin.

"And you will have them all with you again?" said Mrs. Marshall, addressing Miss Nelson.

"Yes; that is what comforts me in losing my children. I shall have a young man to attend to business for me, and a young woman to take some of my home responsibilities from my shoulders," replied Miss Janet.

"And you go back to Roseville to-morrow?"

"Yes; Archie thinks of reading law with an old friend of his father's, and Theo—"

"What will Theo do?" asked Mrs. Marshall.

Miss Nelson did not see the quick glances exchanged by Nannie and Theo as she replied:

"Oh, Theo will have to be a young lady, I suppose, though I should wish her to have some central interest; too many girls spend such useless lives. Roseville does not offer a very broad field, but I think Theo need not be idle, nor even uselessly busy."

Though the next day did indeed see them all returned to Roseville, it saw all Miss Janet's plans overturned by a letter which awaited their arrival. This letter was addressed to Archie by Colonel Smith, Val's guardian, who had formed a warm attachment for the young man, and who now offered him the opportunity of studying law in New York, under Colonel Smith himself. Archie read the communication very slowly and thoughtfully, put the letter in his pocket, then, picking up his hat, he said to his chum,—

"Come, Jack, let us go forth."

Jack's face was very grave as he also put a letter into his own pocket and joined his friend without saying a word.

When they were out of the house, Archie handed his letter to Jack, saying,—

"Give us your opinion of that."

"You ought to go," decided Jack. "It is the chance of a lifetime, Arch. With such a man as the Colonel, you could not have a better."

"I want to go," returned Archie, "but I do feel that I owe my aunt and my sister something; they have both made sacrifices for me. I have been at the university for four years, and I ought to be at home now."

"I'm afraid I'm not an impartial adviser," returned Jack, "for it would mean so much to me to have you still at hand. You can't know, old fellow, what it would cost me to cut loose from you all."

"I shall have to tell auntie sometime," said Archie; "so I might as well get it over first as last."

He found it very hard, however, to broach the subject of the letter to his aunt. The tender, motherly care given himself and his sister from their babyhood seemed worthy as great consideration as his own future, and the boy honestly strove to be unselfish in the matter.

"Give you up again, my boy!" said Miss Nelson. "That is a great tax on my generosity, but I know Colonel Smith means to give you the best of opportunities; and, indeed, it is not a surprise to me. The Colonel hinted at something of the kind long ago, but I did not count upon it. Go! Of course you will. There is no question about it. Your auntie still has her faculties," she laughingly continued; "she doesn't grow old as fast as she might." And so it was settled that way.

Archie's departure for New York was hastened by a piece of information given by Jack that evening, who stated that his own leave must soon be taken.

"I have just been notified of my uncle's marriage," he said.

"What!" exclaimed Archie. "Old pineknot married?"

Jack nodded.

"Oh, Jack!" said Theo.

"What a shame!" cried Val.

"It need not affect you, Jack," remarked Miss Nelson, consolingly.

"It need not, perhaps, but yet it may. You remember, two years ago—" turning to Archie—"I said then I wouldn't trust Uncle Silas around the corner; and the past two summers have not added to my confidence in him. So I think I ought to be on hand to watch matters."

"You will be one of the firm now, I suppose?" said Miss Nelson.

"Perhaps," was the reply. "I cannot really tell; that was my father's intention. He wanted me to spend the summers, during my college life, in the office, and when I had taken my degree, to assume my responsibilities as one of the house; but—" and Jack paused doubtfully.

"Well, I shall go on with you," Archie declared, "and we'll still be chums. Eh, Jack?" slapping his comrade's shoulder heartily. "When must you go?"

"I should not put it off," was the response. "I should say the first of next week."

"Oh!" exclaimed the girls. "That is mean, Jack, to take Archie away just as we have him home again."

"To say nothing of yourself," added Val.

Jack looked at Theo, who said nothing.

"Wait till the last of the week," pleaded Val.

"Can you not, Jack?" put in Miss Nelson.

"I might," said he, doubtfully, still looking at Theo.

But that young person got up and went out of the room, as if determining to have no voice in the matter. Still, Jack consented to lengthen his stay somewhat.

And again, as so often before, a merry little party rollicked through the June days.

They were joined, not only by Theo's friend, Nannie Talcott, but by Gilbert Rogers, whose presence, however, somewhat disturbed the others, for Fly Crawford's return to her home was an evident reason for Gilbert's lingering in the neighborhood.

"It seems too bad," said Theo, in distress, to her brother, "that Gilbert should be so strongly under the influence of a girl as utterly frivolous as Fly. I shouldn't care if she were only frivolous, but—" and Theo paused, not liking to say anything in further detriment. Then she went on, "There is such a difference between a girl's being bright and witty and being—I hate the word—fast. Now, Val is bright and lively as can be, but she never forgets her womanliness."

Archie nodded thoughtfully. "A good many fellows," he said, "haven't perspicacity enough to see the difference, but when a fellow has a sister and a cousin, he knows. There is some hope for a girl who is only silly, and who lacks judgment because she is young. Most girls have a little round of thoughts that they keep going over and over."

Theo laughed. "What are they?" she asked.

"Oh, they wonder how they look and who is looking at them; and if any fellow looks at them, what he thinks; and if he doesn't look, why doesn't he; and what can she do to made him look. But it doesn't do any harm; it is only silliness, and they get over it as they grow older,—that is, most of them do."

"Now, Archie," expostulated Theo, resenting this charge against her sex, "do you think I have no better thoughts to occupy my mind?"

"Well, maybe you don't keep in so small a circle."

"And Val?"

"Oh, well, Val inclines towards it, but she will get over it. There is hope for her. She is not a girl whose inclinations are toward unwomanly acts. If she does anything reprehensible, it is from thoughtlessness."

"She is the nicest girl 'I' know," replied Theo. "Now, let us go down to the others; they will think we have deserted them entirely. Do hear Val laughing. Hasn't she the merriest laugh?"

"Val is a nice child," observed Archie.

Theo smiled, thinking how Val would resent being called a child.

"Wait a minute," said Archie; "don't say anything about our conversation, not even to Jack. We can talk as we choose together, for we have had no secrets from each other."

"I will be discreet," replied Theo. Then, after a pause, and a little hesitatingly, she asked, "Do you think Jack is much concerned over his uncle's marriage?"

"Bless him! He would keep it to himself if he were. But I am afraid it will affect him more or less, though one cannot tell how much. We'll hope it may not be much the worse for him. There! Those children are getting too hilarious. I must go and put a stop to it."

As to putting a stop to the hilarity, Archie's presence seemed only to add fuel to the flames, and for the rest of the afternoon, the merriment ran high till Gilbert, pleading an engagement, left them, when they all sobered down.

She came in one afternoon, when all were sitting on the porch.

CHAPTER II.

UPS AND DOWNS.

THEO, with her quick sympathies, was most anxiously concerned for her brother's friend, Gilbert Rogers. And when certain gossiping remarks came to her ears, she resented them with all the warmth of her youthful spirit, but only in Archie's hearing, for she did not think it wise to repeat the gossip to any one else.

It was Val who finally stirred up a more general indignation in the little household. She came in, one afternoon, when all were sitting on the porch, swept by Gilbert with the air of a tragedy queen, her blue eyes blazing, and her little head held up in the haughtiest manner. After she had passed into the house, silence fell upon the group, broken at last by Archie.

"Whew!" he ejaculated. "I feel as if a cyclone had passed us. What do you suppose has been disturbing my lady Le Moyne? She wears the most indignant expression I have seen for many a day. Has any one been 'sassing' her?" turning to the group.

All protested innocence, though Gilbert looked a trifle uneasy.

Miss Janet arose and followed Val to her room. The door was locked, but she caught the quick tread of the girl as she paced the floor. Auntie knocked. There was no answer.

"It is auntie, dear," she said, presently.

Against auntie's appeal there was never any protest, and Val immediately opened the door, the indignant tears standing in her eyes, as auntie said, "What has been angering my little girl? Something more than usual, I am sure."

"It is that horrid, horrid girl!" replied Val, with a quick stamp of her little foot.

"My darling child, don't be so vehement. What is it, now? You must not be influenced by silly school-girl tales."

"This isn't a school-girl tale; it is the truth. I heard it from a perfectly reliable source. I am eighteen, auntie, and I am old enough to have some sort of womanly rights. I will not have people say what is not true of me."

"There! There!" coaxingly said Miss Nelson. "Sit down here and tell me all about it. We can sift down your information, and see how much need there is for your righteous indignation."

Val established herself in a chair and rocked fiercely for a few moments. Then she broke out with, "It makes me ashamed even to tell you, auntie, but you shall know it. Fly Crawford has told Gilbert that I am in love with him. Did you ever hear of such a mean, contemptible thing?"

"How do you know she told him?"

"She boasted of it to one of the girls."

"It is a very mean act, one quite unworthy of a noble nature, but I am afraid Lee Crawford has not a noble nature. We all know it is not true, dear child."

"Yes, of course you do; and Theo does; so does Archie. But how do I know what Gilbert thinks?"

"Why, my dear, Gilbert surely is not so vain as all that. You have treated him just as you have Jack and Teddy Forester and the other boys, have you not?"

"Ye-s," replied Val, a little doubtfully; "except when we first knew the boys, auntie, I was a little flirty then. But I was only a little girl four years ago, and he cannot attach any importance to what I did then."

"I remember," returned auntie, smiling.

"Fly has never forgiven me for deserting her faction," continued Val, "and has shown her resentment in more ways than one; but this caps the climax, and I will not have it. Oh, auntie! I wish you would talk to him and let him know how utterly unworthy Fly is. I know you do not like to have us say unkind things of other girls, and I try not to, to outsiders, but Gilbert is too good a fellow to be thrown away on such a girl as that. I don't see how he can be so blind."

"Lee Crawford has very taking little ways: she is bright and pretty. Gilbert is probably the last one to hear the real truth, and if he does hear, he is apt to resent it. There is a very perverse side to human nature, and a man must be singularly strong to exercise level judgment in such matters. I am afraid it would do no good, Val."

"Oh, but, auntie, you—he surely knows you could have no other motive than his best good; he has such respect for your opinions. Won't you try? I cannot have such things said of me. If you cannot help me, I shall have to tell Archie, and then there will be a bigger fuss. Oh, dear! Why do such serpents have to exist? I have tried not to be down on Gilbert; but it does lower him in my opinion to have him countenance a girl who could be so contemptible; it makes me feel as if his own sense of honor were less than I thought."

"It is all his vanity, my child; that being appealed to makes him lose sight of the other things. I will try what I can do, Val, though I am opposed to any interference in such affairs, as a rule; it seldom does any good. If he is really very much interested, I am sure he will not listen; but if it is merely a fancy, a word of warning may be timely. I agree with you that Gilbert is entirely too good a boy to have his life ruined by an utterly unscrupulous girl.

"It is strange how girls of that character can so often dominate really good men. I suppose it is, as some one says, that we see in others the reflex of ourselves, and Gilbert's is an honest soul, which doubtless finds it hard to recognize duplicity in another. His vanity is his greatest weakness, and that, I hope, is a failing born of his youth, rather than a radical defect of character; but through his vanity, Lee, I fancy, has obtained her hold upon him. Now, don't let this trouble you, dear; had Lee been a friend of yours, she could not have done it. But since we know she is not, you must try to dismiss the whole matter."

"But I shall hate to see Gilbert again," said Val, in a troubled voice.

"You must try to treat him just as usual; and, dear girlie, let this help you in this way to learn that it 'is dangerous to strike leagues of friendship with cheap persons.'"

"Oh, I know, I know. I might have been a 'cheap person' myself, if I had not had you to warn me, auntie."