Molly Brown's Freshman Days Part 24

"There to-night?" repeated Molly.

"Certainly. Have you forgotten about the supper to-night?"

"But I'm not invited."

"Oh, yes, you are," answered the Professor, with a knowing smile.

"You'll probably find the note waiting for you. And you must be sure and come, because the McLean's are real characters. They will interest you, I am sure."

"Poor Nance," was Molly's first thought. And her second thought was: "If her mother is invited out to dine, she can accept." Her face brightened at this, and without knowing it, she smiled.

Molly led such a busy, concentrated life, that when she did relax for a few moments, she sometimes seemed absent-minded and inattentive. The Professor was looking at her closely.

"You are pleased at being asked to the McLean's?" he said.

"I was thinking of something else," she said. "I was wondering if, after all, Nance couldn't arrange to go. Of course, she'll be invited, too; but, you see, her mother is to be here."

"Is Mrs. Oldham, the Suffragette, her mother?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes."

"Mrs. Oldham is to dine at the President's to-night. I know, because I was asked to meet her, but"--he looked at her very hard indeed--"I had another engagement."

"Then Nance can go. Isn't it beautiful? I am so glad!" Molly clasped her hands joyously.

Professor Green gave her such a beautiful, beaming smile that it fairly transfigured his face.

"You are a very good friend, Miss Brown," he said gently; "but would not Miss Oldham rather be with her mother, that is, in case the President should invite her, too, which is highly probable?"

"Oh, I hope she won't. You see, Nance has never had much pleasure with young people, and"--it was difficult to explain--"and her mother----"

she hesitated.

"Her mother, being the most famous clubwoman in America, hasn't spent much time at home? Is that it?"

"Well, yes," admitted Molly. "In fact, she hardly remembers she has a daughter," she added indignantly, and then bit her lip, feeling that she was bordering on disloyalty.

The Professor cleared his throat and thrust his hands into his pockets.

He was really very boyish-looking to be so old.

"So you have set your heart on Miss Oldham's going to the supper to-night?" he said gravely.

"If there is any fun going, Judy and I would be sorry to have her miss it," she answered. "And I don't suppose it would be thrilling to dine at the President's with a lot of learned older people."

"I'm just on my way to President Walker's now," pursued the Professor thoughtfully. "In fact, I was just about to deliver my regrets in person regarding dinner to-night, and having some business to attend to with Miss Walker, I thought I would call. While I am there, it is possible--well, in fact, Miss Brown, there should be a good fairy provided by Providence to grant all unselfish wishes. She would not be a busy fairy by any means, I am afraid, except when she hovered around you. Good morning," and lifting his hat, the Professor hastened away, leaving Molly in a state of half-pleased perplexity.

On the table in her room she found a note from Mrs. McLean, inviting her to supper that evening. Two other invitations from the same lady were handed to Nance and Judy, but Nance was at that moment seated at her desk accepting an invitation from Miss Walker to dine there with her mother at seven. She was writing the answer very carefully and slowly, in her best handwriting, and on her best monogram note paper.

"Do you think that's good enough?" she demanded, handing the note to Molly to read.

"Why, yes," answered Molly, looking it over hastily while she prepared to write her own answer to Mrs. McLean, and then she threw herself into the business of "cloud-bursts."

Just as the lunch gong sounded, Bridget, the Irish waitress at President Walker's house, appeared at their half-open door.

"A note for Miss Oldham," she said; "and the President says no answer is necessary. Good afternoon, ma'am; they'll be waitin' lunch if I don't make haste."

"'MY DEAR MISS OLDHAM,'" Nance read aloud. "'I have just learned that you are invited to a young people's supper party to-night at Mrs. McLean's, and I therefore hasten to release you from your engagement to dine with me. Your mother will spare you, I am sure, on this one evening, and I hope you will enjoy yourself with your friends. With kindest regards, believe me,

"'Cordially yours, "'EMMA K. WALKER.'"

"Isn't she a brick?" cried Judy, dancing around the room and clapping her hands.

"It was awfully nice of her," said Nance thoughtfully. "I wonder how she knew I was invited to the McLean's?"

"Some good fairy must have told her," answered Molly, half to herself, as she stirred brown sugar into a saucepan.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE MCLEAN SUPPER.

Nance did get a telegram from her mother that afternoon. It was very vague about trains and merely said: "Arrive in Wellington about two this afternoon. Meet me. Mother."

Fortunately, the girls were as familiar with the train schedule as with their own cla.s.s schedules, and knew exactly what train she meant.

"It's the two-fifteen, of course," announced Judy. "Shall we go down with you to meet her, Nance?"

"Why, yes; I think mother would like that very much," answered Nance, pleased with the idea. "She loves attention."

Therefore, when the two-fifteen pulled into Wellington station, our three freshmen, together with Margaret Wakefield heading a deputation from the Freshman Suffrage Club, and Miss Bowles, teacher in Higher Mathematics, were waiting on the platform.

"There she is!" cried Nance, with a note of eagerness in her voice that made Molly's heart ache.

They all moved forward to meet a gaunt, tired-looking woman, with a sallow, faded complexion and a nervous manner; but her brilliant, clear brown eyes offset her unprepossessing appearance. Glowing with intelligence and with feverish energy they flashed their message to the world, like two mariner's lights at sea, and those who caught that burning glance forgot the tired face and distraught manner of the woman of clubs.

"How are you, my dear?" she said, kissing Nance quite casually, without noticing where the kiss was going to land, and scarcely glancing at her daughter.

She had evidently been making notes on the trip down and still carried a pencil and some sc.r.a.p paper in one hand, while the other grasped her suit case, of which Nance promptly relieved her. She shook hands cordially with Miss Bowles, and the girls whom Nance introduced, searching the face of each, as a recruiting officer might examine applicants for the army. Then they all climbed into the bus and presently she plunged into a discussion with Miss Bowles on the advance of the suffrage movement in England and America.

"And this is the woman," whispered Judy to Molly dramatically, "who has spoken before legislatures and represented the suffrage party abroad and been regent of Colonial Dames and President of National Societies for the Purification of Politics and--and lecturer on 'The History of Legislation----'"

"How under the sun can you remember it all?" interrupted Molly.

"I don't think I have got them straight," answered Judy, "but they all sound alike, anyhow, so what's the odds?"

Molly discreetly took herself off to Judy's room that afternoon, leaving Nance and her mother together for the short time that elapsed before the lecture was to begin. But Nance soon followed them.