CHAPTER VIII—NEW YORK AT LAST

“If there is one thing I like more than all the other things about a long railway journey,” said Judith, as they alighted at the great Metropolis terminal, “it is the end. I love to get off.”

“I rather agree with you,” Jane almost sighed, for the trip from Montana, while pleasantly varied with incidents of interest, was really all tuned and keyed up to the actual pleasure of reaching New York.

“How good it is to be back, after all,” pursued Judith. “I hope we will have no trouble in finding Mrs. Weatherbee. She is so eminently systematic, as our train was on time, she ought to be in sight now.”

“Oh, I am sure she will be here,” Jane added, as they edged along with the throng, threading their way out into the open space under the great glass canopy of the New York Central. The magnitude of the building seemed to dwarf the lines and group of persons, filing in and out, and coming and going—as the old man said, like people without any homes.

“There she is!” exclaimed Jane as she caught sight of the dignified Mrs. Weatherbee, director of Wellington. “And she has a young girl with her.”

“Our Helka!” exclaimed Judith, jamming into a haughty woman with the perpetual poodle under her arm. “Oh, I am sure that is our little artist,” as the slight young girl, in very dark costume advanced with Mrs. Weatherbee.

There was no time for a reply from Jane, for the smiling Wellington lady and her companion now caught sight of the girls, and were advancing quickly.

“Just in time,” Mrs. Weatherbee exclaimed with more precision than originality. “How splendidly you both look!”

Then the usual hand shaking, and exchange of courtesies included the introduction to Miss Helka Podonsky.

So the girls at last beheld the object of their long outstanding guesses and conjectures!

Yes, Helka was pretty—she was different, and she was surely attractive. Her hair tangled around her ears and made the most adorable little puffs. Its shade was dark, not black, but more dark than brown. All of these details were easily observed, and the girls absorbed them, but the color of her eyes—Jane thought they blue, Judith thought them brown, and neither knew how to classify the flashes and “volts” the little stranger shot out from under the long curly lashes. But that she was lovely each silently agreed.

“This is our friend who is coming with us to Wellington,” Mrs. Weatherbee explained, in that formal way “the faculty” always take to say unnecessary things. “She is delighted with the prospect,” another superfluous banality.

“Oh, yes, it will be very—nice,” spoke Helka, and her accent betrayed the slightest foreign tinge. Her words seemed carefully chosen, but she did not hiss her “s” nor choke her “e.” Jane was glad the voice and accent would not excite undue prejudice.

“I am sure it will be perfectly jolly,” Judith hurried to add, and in her effort to speak clearly she chose the very word a stranger might not understand. “Jolly” was not included in the usual English phrases given in foreign school text books.

“Yes?” Helka ventured to answer, and her rising inflection might easily span a sea of doubt.

“Oh, it will be—delightful,” Jane took great pains to qualify. She had no intention of confusing Helka, and wished above all things to impress her with a sense of companionship.

Yet there was a certain strain apparent. Helka did not “fall on her knees, or neck” after the manner of the proteges in children’s books, neither did “her eyes fill with tears of silent appreciation.” Nevertheless the three girls, with their college director, were going through that process of self consciousness bordering on embarrassment.

“Can’t we go to the rest room for a few moments?” asked Jane. “I think we will have a better chance to get acquainted sitting down,” she declared.

Quick to catch the possible humor of this remark Helka smiled broadly, and the set of teeth she exposed caused the girls again to exchange knowing glances. Now, Judith had wonderful teeth. In fact, she might claim championship in the tooth beauty contest, did Wellington carry such a sport, but Helka’s! They were so small, so even and so white, matched pearls indeed. Thoughts of the pure grain foods of Poland filtered through Jane’s mind, while Judith wondered about Polish dentifrice.

All this time it never occurred to either of the Wellington girls, that the stranger might be having an equally interesting time analyzing and cataloging them, and their characteristics. Egotism has various methods of taking care of her own.

In the big, leathered rest room, a comfortable corner was available, and here our quartette soon ensconced themselves. Mrs. Weatherbee really looked quite human, Judith was deciding, her Oxford tailored suit being sufficiently de luxe to be spelled “tailleur.” It was nobby, to take up a word from the English allies, and not give all the credit to the French.

“Now, my dears,” spoke the model, “I have a plan to unfold to you. Helka wishes to stay in some private place, that is, she does not wish to get into any very public place.”

She stopped, for Helka was silently inferring so much that her attitude demanded attention. She was sort of shaking her head and biting her red lips and flashing her unclassified eyes.

“Not a lovely hotel?” asked Jane in surprise. She had really counted on showing this little stranger life in a big New York hotel.

“Oh, no, please not. No hotel. I would not like that. There are so many—men and women.” Helka was almost shuddering, and Judith instantly sensed the mystery promised about the Polish girl’s antecedents. Jane, acting in the capacity of hostess, immediately agreed to shun all hotels.

“I wanted to tell you,” said Mrs. Weatherbee, “that for the present I have arranged with a former member of the staff of Wellington, a retired chaperon, to take you young ladies in her charge in New York. As Miss Allen had informed me she wished to stay in the city for some days, I thought it my duty to see that you were all safely—chaperoned.” She smiled humanly, Judith admitted, but visions of a retired chaperon did not exactly forecast a very jolly good time. Even a working “nurse maid,” as the attendants were sometimes facetiously styled, would be better than one who was old enough to be retired. Jane was struggling with similar fears.

“She has quite an apartment,” went on the matron. “In fact, she has been entertaining some social service students who take care of themselves in her apartment, and I thought that would be just the thing for you three little girls.”

“I am sure it will be!” Jane exclaimed, now seeing light through the clouds. “I have always longed to try housekeeping as the college settlement girls do, and it may give us valuable experience.”

“Oh, glorious!” exclaimed Judith. “I vote to be—parlor maid.”

“It would be very nice,” ventured Helka, “if we could have a very small house and our own—piano.”

“Oh, of course, Helka, dear,” Mrs. Weatherbee hurried to inject. “You must have access to a piano. You cannot be deprived of your music.”

The luminous eyes flashed their appreciation at this, and Jane felt as if even a rest room was quite inadequately furnished, with no piano, at that moment, in sight. This little artist should have some sort of pocket edition to carry around with her. She was different and artistic and her moods should be humored. Of a certainty they would go at once to the apartment with the home cured piano, as Judith called any instrument not installed in a school room.

“Miss Jordan expects us,” said Mrs. Weatherbee, “I was sure a good cup of real tea would refresh you both after your journey.” She picked up the flat brief case Judith always carried in lieu of a suit case. Jane adjusted her own club bag, preparatory for the start. Helka insisted on taking the brace of umbrellas. So the little party wended their way to the surface car, Jane naturally falling in step with Helka and Judith trotting along with Mrs. Weatherbee.

“Adorable!” Judith at last had a chance to exclaim.

“I knew you would like her,” smiled Mrs. Weatherbee. “She is a wonderful girl. And she has such an interesting history.”

Just as it had all been planned!

“Jane’s luck,” commented Judith. “Mrs. Weatherbee, we are going to make Jane Allen, Center, this year. And we are going to make our team known all over the college circuit. Basketball is an American sport, and we are back from the war now with reconstruction energy.”

“I believe you,” assented the matron, and her tone implied satisfaction.

Jane was meanwhile becoming agreeably acquainted with Helka.