Lydia of the Pines Part 55

"Elviry," said Dave grimly, "our day is over. All we can hope to save out of the wreck is a future for Margery. Just get that through your head once and for all. I think Lydia's idea is horse sense. But it's for Margery to decide."

Margery got up from her place on the floor. "I thought we'd sell out and go to Europe for the rest of our lives," she said, "but as Lydia says, the story would follow us there. Dad," sharply, "you aren't going to _sell_ the Last Chance and use that money?"

"I closed it up, last week," said Dave shortly. "I'm going to have the place torn down."

Margery rubbed her hand over her forehead. "Well," she said, "I don't see that I'd gain anything but a reputation for being a quitter, if I went to Lydia's. I'll stay with you folks, but I'll go to college, if Lydia'll stand by me."

Lydia rose. "Then that's settled. On Monday we'll register. I'll meet you on the eight o'clock car."

"I can't thank you, Lyd,--" began Margery.

"I don't want any thanks," said Lydia, making for the door, where Dave intercepted her with outstretched hand.

Lydia looked up into his dark face and her own turned crimson. "I can't shake hands," she said, "honestly, I can't. The Last Chance and the--the starving squaws make me sick. I'll stand by Margery and help you--but I can't do that."

Dave Marshall dropped his hand and turned away without a word and Lydia sped from the house into the sunset.

Amos heard Lydia's story of her call with a none too pleased face. "I don't think I want you mixing up with them, in any way," he said.

"But let me help Margery," pleaded Lydia, "Little Patience did love her so!"

"Well--Margery--you can help her," he agreed, reluctantly, "but you can't go near their house again. Margery will have to do all the visiting."

CHAPTER XVII

THE MILITARY HOP

"Who shall say that I do not understand what the wind sings in my branches or that I am less than the white or more than the Indian?"--_The Murmuring Pine_.

In spite of the fact that Levine had avoided her, after the hearing, and in spite of all the many half tragic ramifications of the reservation trouble, Lydia was not unhappy. In fact, when Registration day dawned she awoke with a sense of something good impending, sang as she dressed, and piloted Margery gaily through the complications of entering the University as a "special" student.

Margery, for the first month or so, was silent and kept as close as possible to Lydia's ap.r.o.n strings. But Lydia had prophesied truly. No girl as beautiful as Margery could be kept in Coventry long and though she refused for a time to go to parties, it was not long before Margery was taking tramps with the college boys and joining happily enough in the simple pleasures at the cottage.

Lydia did not hear from Kent until a week before the first college hop, late in October. Then she received a formal note from him, reminding her of his invitation.

"Oh, Lyd!" exclaimed Margery, "aren't you lucky! I haven't seen Kent or heard from him since our trouble!"

"Neither have I," said Lydia. "And I suspect he's so cross with me that he hates to keep this engagement. But I don't care. I wish I had a new dress. But I've made the sleeves small in my organdy and made a new girdle. It looks as well as could be expected!" she finished, comically.

"Lydia," cried Margery, suddenly, "I've a whole closet full of party dresses I won't wear this year and you and I are just of a size, won't you wear one--take one and keep it--please, Lydia!"

Lydia flushed and shook her head.

"Is it because they were bought with Dad's money?" asked Margery.

Lydia's flush grew deeper. "I couldn't take it anyway, Margery," she protested. But Margery tossed her head and was silent for the rest of the afternoon.

The hop was a success, a decided success, in spite of the organdy.

Kent was inclined to be stiff, at first, and to wear a slightly injured air, and yet, mingled with this was a frank and youthful bravado. And there could be no doubt that among the college boys, Kent was more or less of a hero. It was something to boast of, evidently, to have one's name coupled with Levine's in the great scandal.

Kent had supposed that he would have some trouble in filling Lydia's card for her, but to his surprise, he found that in her timid way, Lydia was something of a personage among the older college boys and the younger professors.

"Oh, you have Miss Dudley. Let me have three dances, will you," said the instructor in Psychology. "How pretty she is to-night!"

"Lydia is a peach," Kent stated briefly. "One two-step is the best I can do for you."

"Come now, Moulton, a two-step and a waltz," said Professor Willis. "I haven't seen Miss Dudley since college opened. Isn't her hair wonderful to-night!"

Gustus was there with Olga. "Gimme a waltz with Lydia, Kent," he demanded. "Who'd ever thought she'd grow up so pretty! If she could dress well--"

"Her card's full," grunted Kent. "And she dresses better'n any girl I know. What's the matter with that dress?"

The two young men stood watching Lydia, who was chatting with Professor Willis. The dress was out of style. Even their masculine eyes recognized that fact, yet where in the room was there a ma.s.s of dusty gold hair like Lydia's, where such scarlet cheeks, where such a look of untried youth?

"Oh, well, it was just something Olga said," began Gustus.

"Olga makes me sick," said Kent, and he stalked over to claim a waltz with Lydia.

It was altogether an intoxicating evening and at its end Lydia pulled on her last winter's overcoat and clambered into Kent's little automobile, utterly satisfied with life.

"Well, did I give you a good time, Miss?" asked Kent, as they chug-chugged down the Avenue.

"Oh, Kent, it was wonderful!"

"And you don't feel as if I were a villain any more? You've forgiven me?"

"Forgiven you? For what?"

"For not agreeing with you on the Indian question. Gee, I was sore at you, Lyd, that morning at the hearing, and yet I was like your Dad. I was proud of you, too."

"Oh, don't let's talk about it, to-night, Kent," Lydia protested.

"All right, old girl, only just remember that I can't change. I back Mr. Levine to the limit. And maybe he hasn't a surprise party coming for all of you!"

"I don't care," insisted Lydia. "I'm going to be happy to-night, and I won't talk Indians. Oh, Kent, isn't Gustus getting good-looking?"

"Too fat," replied Kent. "He drinks too much beer. And let me call your attention to something funny. As you know, he's always had trouble getting in with the college set, because of the brewery. But his father is the only well-to-do man in town who's had nothing to do with the reservation, so now, by contrast, brewing becomes a highly honorable business! And Gustus goes with 'our very best families.'"

Lydia chuckled, then said, "Margery is feeling much better. She's at our house every Sunday. You must come round and see her!"

"Why shouldn't I come to see you, Lydia?" asked Kent, with a new note in his voice.

"Why, of course, you'd see me, but Margery's always been the main attraction with you."