Chapter 8

PENANCE

Blue Bonnet went down-stairs slowly; her heart in a tumult of conflicting emotions. As she passed the reception-room and neared Miss North's office, she heard Cousin Tracy's voice, gentle and patient, raised now a trifle in protest.

"I am sure," he was saying, "that Blue Bonnet meant no interference or harm in sending for me. It was a most natural impulse, which I hope you will find it possible to pardon."

Cousin Tracy was sitting stiffly on the edge of a chair, his cane and hat held tightly, as if he intended putting them in use at the earliest possible moment.

Miss North's position was also somewhat strained and alert. She motioned Blue Bonnet to a seat, and went on with the conversation.

"That is no doubt true, Mr. Winthrop; but it is not altogether to the point. Miss Ashe has been willful and disobedient in this matter. She has shown an absolute disregard of rules--a lack of faith in my word. I promised her this morning that Miss Judson should have every attention and care, and that Miss Clyde should be notified at the proper time. You will understand, of course, Mr. Winthrop, that if each parent who has a daughter in this institution were to be notified the moment that child becomes indisposed, it would cause unnecessary alarm, as well as expense. It is a very common thing, at the beginning of the year, to have the Infirmary half full of girls who are suffering from colds, change of climate, homesickness; minor ills, insignificant and trivial. It is our habit to call our physician, Doctor Giles, immediately. We rely implicitly upon his judgment. Perhaps you may know of Doctor Giles? He has something of a reputation in the city."

"Yes," Mr. Winthrop said, "I know him very well indeed; in fact he is my physician--and friend."

Miss North cast a quick look in Blue Bonnet's direction.

"Then you know something of his skill," she said. "He has just left here--his second visit to-day. He finds Miss Judson much better, absolutely without temperature--in fact, quite normal. Her illness, superinduced by homesickness, has at no time been alarming. She has a bilious cold--always disagreeable--and some difficulty in adjusting herself to this climate after the fresh air of the prairie. This, I believe, is the history of the case. You see how simple it is--scarcely sufficient to cause this--teapot tempest!"

As Miss North spoke a change came over Blue Bonnet's countenance. She was gifted as few people are in this world, in that she had the ability to see herself as others saw her. At the present moment the vision was anything but pleasing or gratifying. Miss North's argument, clear and logical, spoke straight to her conscience. She realized all at once that she had been meddlesome and officious, and she longed to make amends.

There was silence for a full minute. Mr. Winthrop had no further defence in favor of Blue Bonnet--that was evident.

Miss North waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat audibly and opened his lips; but, before the words came, Blue Bonnet had leaned forward to the very edge of her chair and addressed Miss North.

"I see your point--perfectly--now," she said. "I didn't this morning. I'm terribly sorry that I've caused you all this annoyance. I reckon it was because--" she stopped, unwilling to allow herself the slightest loophole of escape through an explanation. "There is no excuse for me at all. I apologize, Miss North, and I'm willing to take my punishment--anything you think right--only I hope--it won't be expulsion. Grandmother could never stand that. It would most kill her!"

There was a grave, old-fashioned dignity about the way Blue Bonnet acknowledged her error. It appealed to Miss North. She was so frank, so evidently sincere, that almost without an instant's hesitation Miss North replied:

"I accept your apology, Miss Ashe. We try never to expel for mistakes--unless they are serious enough to be contaminating in influence. As to a punishment--we will discuss that later. You may come here--to my office, for a few minutes after study hour this evening."

Blue Bonnet shook hands with Mr. Winthrop, thanked him for coming, and went back up-stairs as slowly as she had come down ten minutes before.

In order to lose no time, or miss hearing all the details of the interview with Miss North, Annabel and Sue were waiting in Blue Bonnet's room.

As Blue Bonnet opened the door they made a rush for her.

"For goodness' sake, tell us what this is all about!" Sue said, dragging her over to the couch. "We're just dying to know!"

Blue Bonnet sat down with a sigh.

"There isn't much to tell," she said wearily. "I've been perfectly horrid about Carita being ill, that's all--she's sick, you know. They wouldn't let me see her this morning--that is, they kept me out of the Infirmary, so I sent for Cousin Tracy."

"You sent for your cousin!" Annabel exclaimed.

"Yes."

"How did you send for him?"

"Telephoned."

Sue went off in a gale of laughter.

"I adore your nerve," she said. "Oh, isn't this lovely!"

"Didn't you know that would get you in trouble?" Annabel asked.

"I didn't seem to care--this morning. I wish I had."

"Was Miss North--awful?"

"No, she was lovely."

"Didn't she take away your privileges?"

"I don't know yet--she's to tell me later."

"Well, she will, so cheer up," Sue comforted. "The worst is yet to come!"

"Oh, Sue, stop! She doesn't know anything about it, Blue Bonnet. I shouldn't worry. Come on over in my room and have some eats."

Annabel's tone was persuasive, but Blue Bonnet shook her head.

"Oh, come on! Sue wants to fix your hair. By the way, may I wear your white Peter Tom to-night? I'm wild for one."

Blue Bonnet got out the dress and handed it to Annabel.

"Thanks, awfully," Annabel said. "You are welcome to anything of mine, you know. One gets so tired of one's own things. Sue and I change all the time."

"You mean _you_ do the changing," Sue said, laughing. "Annabel's worn out every pair of silk stockings I've got--honestly she has! I've got on a pair of Wee Watts' now, and they sag something awful. I think it's so inconsiderate of Wee to be fat. Nobody ever can borrow from her!"

She raised her skirt and the girls shrieked with laughter at the baggy stockings.

"Let's all change round to-night," Annabel suggested. "Blue Bonnet can wear my pink organdy, and I'll wear this--"

"Where do I come in?" Sue interrupted.

"At the head of the procession, as usual, dearest," Annabel promised. "You can wear that sweet yellow gown of Blue Bonnet's. Can't she?"

"I reckon she can," Blue Bonnet said. "I've never worn it myself yet."

"Oh, that doesn't matter: she'll christen it."

Blue Bonnet got the dress from the closet.

Sue examined it closely, measuring it to her own length.

"I'm afraid it is a little long for me. Maybe I could take a tuck in it somewhere. Yes, I can; here! See?"

Blue Bonnet saw! She also had visions of Aunt Lucinda if the gown were torn or stepped on, but she couldn't be disagreeable and selfish. She followed the girls on in to Annabel's room.

Sue pushed Blue Bonnet into a chair and began taking the bow off her hair.

"I've been wild to get at your hair ever since I first saw you. You're too old to wear it in a braid. Here, give this ribbon to Carita; she's in the infant class yet."

Annabel opened a box of chocolates and curled up comfortably on the couch, from which vantage she watched operations lazily.

"Part it, Sue," she said, studying Blue Bonnet's face. "She has a heavenly nose for it--real patrician. Didn't any one ever tell you that you ought to wear it parted?"

"No--I can't remember that any one ever did."

"How funny! Your face is made for it."

Sue brushed the soft fly-away hair, coiling it low over the ears and twisting it into a becoming knot on the neck.

Annabel clapped her hands with delight.

"Didn't I tell you?" she said. "Here, take this mirror. Isn't it splendid? Why, it makes you look all of twenty. You could go to a Harvard dance and get your program filled in two minutes with your hair like that!"

Blue Bonnet took the mirror and looked at herself from all angles.

"It is rather nice," she said, and a rosy flush stole into her cheeks. "But Aunt Lucinda would never stand for it. I know she wouldn't!"

"Change it when you go home then. But you are too old for hair-ribbons--really you are. Isn't she, Sue?"

Sue thought so--decidedly.

Blue Bonnet picked up the ribbon Annabel had so scorned and smoothed out its wrinkles gently. She hated to give it up, somehow; it linked her to her childhood. She wasn't half as anxious to grow up as Annabel was. She didn't want to look twenty--yet! There was so much time to be a woman.

The five o'clock gong sounded.

Blue Bonnet picked up her things and started for her room.

"Wait--the dress," Annabel said. She got out the pink organdy.

Blue Bonnet glanced at it shyly.

"If you don't mind, I believe I'll wear my own."

Annabel looked hurt.

"All right, if you feel that way, of course. Then we won't wear yours." She handed Blue Bonnet the Peter Thompson.

"Oh, yes, you will--please do! You are quite welcome. I only thought--- I--you see, I have never worn anybody's clothes in my life. It seems so funny--"

Sue came to the rescue.

"Nonsense. You'll get over that. You can't be so particular in boarding-school. Everybody does it. If Annabel doesn't care, why should you?"

Blue Bonnet took the dress and went to her room. When the gong sounded for dinner she emerged, radiant in the pink organdy. A critical observer might have thought the waist line a trifle too high, and the skirt a wee bit short. Of the becomingness, however, there could be no doubt. The gown was pretty, and it suited Blue Bonnet, bringing out the wild rose coloring in the face that glowed and dimpled above it.

* * * * *

Miss North bore the reputation in the school, with pupils and teachers, of being just. She was often accused of being severe--of being cross; of being too strict; but even those who cared for her the least had to acknowledge her general fairness.

Therefore, although it may have been in her heart to pardon Blue Bonnet unreservedly, she felt that a punishment was due her; and she proceeded to mete out that punishment in full accordance with the offence. Blue Bonnet's privileges were taken away for a week. That meant she could have no communication with the girls outside of school hours. She could not visit during the chatting hour; she was denied shopping expeditions--even the Friday afternoon Symphony concert; which was, perhaps, the hardest thing to bear, because Blue Bonnet loved music.

Severe? Yes, perhaps; but nothing could have served half so well to give the girl a proper regard for authority and self government. Blue Bonnet finished the week happier for having expiated her treason to school law--ready to begin the next week with the slate wiped clean.

The week slipped by quickly, too, as weeks have a habit of doing. There were other things beside visiting with the girls and dancing in the gymnasium after dinner. There was the half hour every day just after lunch when Miss North read to the girls in the study hall--a half hour Blue Bonnet always looked forward to eagerly. Miss North was an excellent reader, as well as a keen critic. She read from the poets usually,--Shakespeare, Tennyson, Browning,--though sometimes, by way of variety, an essay or modern drama was substituted.

Miss North felt the pulse of her audience by instinct. She could tell without so much as a glance who was giving attention and who was indifferent. She had a habit of pointing a long, slender finger at some particular girl, and asking for an explanation of what she had been reading.

Blue Bonnet's strict attention pleased her. She liked the girl's appreciation of good literature and her ability to fathom difficult passages.

"Give me the text of 'A Grammarian's Funeral,'" she said to Blue Bonnet one day during this week of penance, after finishing the poem. She knew that she was asking a difficult thing; but she wanted to test Blue Bonnet's perception--her mental acuteness.

"You mean tell what it is about?" Blue Bonnet asked.

"Exactly, Miss Ashe."

"Well--" Blue Bonnet halted lamely for a second, "I couldn't understand it--that is, all of it--but I think it's about some students taking the body of their teacher up a mountain to bury it--and singing as they went."

Miss North smiled and a laugh went round the room.

Blue Bonnet sank down in her seat, covered with confusion, totally unaware that she had said anything that might be regarded as funny. She looked up in surprise, her cheeks flaming.

Miss North explained.

"You have the idea, Miss Ashe. It amuses the class to think of students singing as they bury their teacher, though I daresay there might be more truth than poetry in it."

There was no sarcasm in her tones. She laughed with the rest. Blue Bonnet's attention had delighted her.

There had been another pleasure during the week, one that Blue Bonnet greatly appreciated. She was allowed ten minutes with Carita in the Infirmary.

Carita was sitting up--her long hair brushed and braided smartly; her face--still a bit white--wreathed in smiles.

Blue Bonnet hovered over her.

"Have you been awfully lonely, Carita?"

"No--not a bit."

"Really?"

"No, truly I haven't. Mrs. Goodwin is such a dear, Blue Bonnet. She makes me think of my mother. She read to me--and cooked things for me, herself: the best milk toast, with cream on it; and to-day I had ice-cream--"

"You did? Well, that's more than we had. This was heavenly hash day!"

"I've had visitors, too; Miss North--she brought me those flowers over there--"

Blue Bonnet turned to look at two pink roses on a table by the bed.

"--and Fraulein--"

"Fraulein!"

"Yes--and she was real nice--as nice as _she_ could be, you know. Mary sent me this by Mrs. Goodwin--look!"

Carita brought from beneath her pillow a large, handsome scrap book.

"Oh, a scrap book!"

"A memory book," Carita corrected. "You put everything in it, you know; things to remind you of the school after you have graduated or gone away. I hope I'll get it awfully full. Oh, Blue Bonnet, I know I'm going to be so happy here--in the school. Everybody has been so good to me."

A little mantle of shame spread over Blue Bonnet's face and dyed it a glowing red.

"And I'm doing penance for trying to thrust attention on Carita which she didn't need," she thought.

But the penance--indeed, the mistake itself--had brought its reward: Blue Bonnet had learned her first lesson in faith.

Friday came, and Blue Bonnet watched the girls as they started for the Symphony concert. How pretty they looked!

Annabel had peeked in Blue Bonnet's room at the last minute, ostensibly to say good-by, but purposely to borrow the white fox muff and a pair of gloves. Annabel was an inveterate borrower; not from any lack of clothes, but because she loved dress extravagantly.

"So sorry you can't go, dear," she said. "It's just awfully too bad! There's to be a wonderful singer to-day--I can't seem to think of her name; it's one of those long Italian ones--but her clothes are perfect dreams. I'm dying to see her gown. If we get anywhere near Huyler's after the concert I'll bring you some candy. That's one reason I wanted your muff; it holds such oceans. I think maybe we'll get into S. S. Pierce's too. If we do, I'll stock up. My allowance came this morning; I'm feeling particularly opulent."

With a nod and a wave she was off, and Blue Bonnet was left alone. She practised for a while, getting in a little extra time; it was a good chance with so many pianos idle.

She was deep in the intricacies of a sonata when the door of the practice-room opened, and Martha, Miss North's maid, entered.

"There's a gentleman to see you in the reception-room, Miss Ashe," she said. "Miss North says you may see him for fifteen minutes."

"A gentleman! To see me?"

"Yes, Miss Ashe."

"An old gentleman, Martha?"

"No--a young man."

Blue Bonnet looked puzzled.

"That's queer. Where's his card?"

"He didn't send one, Miss Ashe."

Blue Bonnet went to her room, took a sweeping glance in the mirror, gave her hair an extra brushing, got out a clean handkerchief and went down-stairs quickly.

A tall young man came forward eagerly as she entered the reception-room.

For a moment she stared in dumb amazement, then she gave a cry of delight:

"Alec! Oh, how glad I am to see you! How ever in the world did you happen to come? How's Uncle Cliff, and Uncle Joe, and everybody on the ranch? Have you been to Woodford or are you just going?"

"One question at a time--please. Let's see, the first--Oh, yes; I happened to come because I got my appointment to West Point--"

"You did? How perfectly splendid! When?"

"A couple of weeks ago. I came on immediately to prepare. Mr. Ashe is well, so is Uncle Joe. They sent you all sorts of messages. I have been in Woodford for several days. I came through here the first of the week, but I wasn't in shape to call--exactly--not on a young lady in a fashionable boarding-school. I'm afraid I wouldn't have been admitted. I had to have some clothes--"

"How awfully well you're looking," Blue Bonnet interrupted.

"Oh, I'm fine--can hold my own now, I think; thanks to Texas. That's a great country you've got down there."

Blue Bonnet beamed with pleasure.

"Isn't it, though! Is Benita well?"

"Fine."

"How's Uncle Joe's rheumatism?"

"Better, I guess. Haven't heard him complain."

"Then it _is_ better," Blue Bonnet said. "And old Gertrudis--and Juanita? How are they?"

"Fine--all of them."

"Oh, how I should love to see them! When is Uncle Cliff coming to see me?"

"Along about Easter vacation, I think." Blue Bonnet fairly jumped with joy.

"He is? Really--aren't you joking, Alec? He hasn't said anything about it to me."

"Maybe I've let the cat out, then. Well--it's true just the same. That's the way he talks now. Hadn't we better sit down?"

"Oh, I'm awfully rude. Sit here."

She drew forth as comfortable a chair as the room afforded.

"You took me so by surprise that I forgot my manners."

"I expected to find you over-stocked on 'em, to tell the truth. My, but you look grown up! What have you been doing to your hair? Does Miss Clyde stand for that?"

"Aunt Lucinda hasn't seen it yet. It's something new."

"The We Are Sevens are still clinging to hair-ribbons. I saw Kitty Clark this morning. She was on her way to school."

"You did? I'm wild to see the girls. I'm going home next week to stay over Sunday. That is, I am, if I can manage to keep the rules. I'm doing penance this week."

Alec gave a low whistle.

"What have you been up to?" he asked.

"We'll talk of that another time. And you got your appointment! How pleased the General must be."

"Yes--rather! He's no end pleased. It's been his dream, you know. As far as I'm concerned I'd as lief take to ranching. I'm pretty much in love with that Texas of yours. Look at the brawn it's put on me."

He doubled up his arm to show the muscle, and Blue Bonnet nodded approvingly.

"It's certainly made you over," she said. "You look as if you could fight now. You'd have made a poor soldier before!"

The fifteen minutes passed with lightning rapidity.

Blue Bonnet got up first.

"It seems very--inhospitable," she said, "but I reckon I've got to ask you to go now."

"Go? Why, I've just come!"

"I know, but Miss North said you could stay fifteen minutes--that's all. I don't know how she ever happened to let me see you in the first place. I'm just a bit in disgrace this week."

"I had a very pressing note from your aunt, that's why, I fancy. I sent it on up before I saw you. Miss Clyde said I was to see you; she doesn't usually mince matters."

They both laughed.

"She certainly does not," Blue Bonnet admitted.

"Couldn't you ask to have the time extended?" Alec looked wistful. "Why, I haven't given you half the messages from the ranch yet."

"I might try. I'll see."

She came back in a few minutes with Miss North.

"Miss Ashe tells me that you have just come from her home in Texas," Miss North said. "I can quite appreciate how much you have to tell her of her friends. Perhaps you would stay and dine with us?"

Alec seemed a bit embarrassed. To dine among so many girls was not as alluring as it sounded.

"Oh, do, Alec--please!" Blue Bonnet insisted.

Blue Bonnet was invited to sit at Miss North's table for the occasion. The Seniors sat at Miss North's table, so Alec had Blue Bonnet next to him, and Annabel opposite--an embarrassment of riches.

The girls seemed overwhelmed with such unexpected good fortune. They acted as if they had suddenly been struck dumb. Miss North and Blue Bonnet took turns breaking the silence with trivial generalities.

To Alec it seemed as if the meal would never end. He answered the questions put to him mechanically, owing to his extreme embarrassment; but he found courage toward the end of the meal to cast a sly glance in Annabel's direction--a glance not unobserved by Annabel.

Out in the hall, away from Miss North's watchful eye, he said to Blue Bonnet:

"If you ever get me into a deal like that again, you'll know it! It was worse than busting my first broncho."

And, although it was January, and the thermometer registering freezing weather, he took out his pocket handkerchief and mopped the perspiration from his neck and brow.

He made his adieux to Miss North very charmingly, however, thanking her for her hospitality; and Blue Bonnet left him at the reception-room door, conscious that broncho busting, and other things incident to ranch life, had not made any serious inroads on his native good breeding.