LITMIR.BIZ

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"I've invited him for every party since freshman year."

      "And did he decline?"

      "No; he accepted, but he never came."

      "Why not?"

      "He was scared."

      "Scared? Of the girls?"

      "Yes," said Patty, "partly—but mostly of the faculty."

      "The faculty wouldn't hurt him."

      "Of course not; but he couldn't understand that. You see, he had a fright when he was young."

      "A fright? What was it?"

      "Well," said Patty, "it happened this way: It was while I was at boarding-school. He was at Andover then, and his home was in the South; and one time when he went through Washington he stopped off to call on me. As it happened, the butler had left two days before, and had taken with him all the knives and forks, and all the money he could find, and Nancy Lee's gold watch and two hat-pins, and my silver hair-brush, and a bottle of brandy, and a pie," she enumerated with a conscientious regard for details; "and Mrs. Trent—that's the principal—had advertised for a new butler."

      "I should have thought the old one would have discouraged her from keeping butlers," said Georgie.

      "You would think so," said Patty; "but she was a very persevering woman. On the day that Raoul—that's his name—came to call, nineteen people had applied for the place, and Mrs. Trent was worn out from interviewing them. So she told Miss Sarah—that's her daughter—to attend to those who came in the evening. Miss Sarah was tall and wore spectacles, and was—was—"

      "A good disciplinarian," suggested the Twin.

      "Yes," said Patty, feelingly, "an awfully good disciplinarian. Well, when Raoul got there he gave his card to Ellen and asked for me; but Ellen didn't understand, and she called Miss Sarah, and when Miss Sarah saw him in his evening clothes she—"

      "Took him for a butler," put in Georgie.

      "Yes, she took him for a butler; and she looked at the card he'd given Ellen, and said icily, 'What does this mean?'

      "'It's—it's my name,' he stammered.

      "'I see,' said Miss Sarah; 'but where is your recommendation?'

      "'I didn't know it was necessary,' he said, terribly scared.

      "'Of course it's necessary,' Miss Sarah returned. 'I can't allow you to come into the house unless I have letters from the places where you've been before.'

      "'I didn't suppose you were so strict,' he said.

      "'We have to be strict,' Miss Sarah answered firmly. 'Have you had much experience?'

      "He didn't know what she meant, but he thought it would be safest to say he hadn't.

      "'Then of course you won't do,' she replied. 'How old are you?'

      "He was so frightened by this time that he couldn't remember. 'Nineteen,' he gasped—'I mean twenty.'

      "Miss Sarah saw his confusion, and thought he had designs on some of the heiresses intrusted to her care. 'I don't see how you dared to come here,' she said severely. 'I should not think of having you in the house for a moment. You're altogether too young and too good-looking.' And with that Raoul got up and bolted.

      "When Ellen told Miss Sarah the next day that he'd asked for me, she was terribly mortified, and she made me write and explain, and invite him to dinner; but wild horses couldn't have dragged him into the house again. He's been afraid to stop off in Washington ever since. He always goes straight through on a sleeper, and says he has nightmares even then."

      "And is that why he won't come to the college?"

      "Yes," said Patty; "that's the reason. I told him we didn't have any butlers here; but he said we had lady faculty, and that's as bad."

      "But I thought you said he was coming to the Prom."

      "He is this time."

      "Are you sure?"

      "Yes," said Patty, with ominous emphasis, "I'm sure. He knows," she added, "what will happen if he doesn't."

      "What will happen?" asked the Twin.

      "Nothing."

      The Twin shook her head, and Georgie inquired, "Then why don't you make out his program?"

      "I suppose I might as well. I didn't do it before because it sort of seemed like tempting Providence. I didn't want to be the cause of any really serious accident happening to him," she explained a trifle ambiguously as she got out pencil and paper. "What dances can you give me, Lucille? And you, Georgie, have you got the third taken?"

      While this business was being settled, a knock unheeded had sounded on the door. It came again.

      "What's that?" asked Priscilla. "Did some one knock? Come in."

      The door opened, and a maid stood upon the threshold with a yellow envelope in her hand. She peered uncertainly around the darkened room from one face to another. "Miss Patty Wyatt?" she asked.

      Patty stretched out her hand in silence for the envelop, and, propping it up on her desk, looked at it with a grim smile.

      "What is it, Patty? Aren't you going to read it?"

      "There's no need. I know what it says."

      "Then I'll read it," said Priscilla, ripping it open.

      "Is it a leg or an arm?" Patty inquired with mild curiosity.

      "Neither," said Priscilla; "it's a collar-bone."

      "Oh," murmured Patty.

      "What is it?" demanded Georgie the curious. "Read it out loud."

"New Haven, November 29.

      "Broke collar-bone playing foot-ball. Honest Injun. Terribly sorry. Better luck next time."

"Raoul."

      "There will not," observed Patty, "be a next time."

      III

      The Impressionable Mr. Todhunter

      "HAS the mail been around yet?" called Priscilla to a girl at the other end of the corridor.

      "Don't believe so. It hasn't been in our room."

      "There she comes now!" and Priscilla swooped down upon the mail-girl. "Got anything for 399?"

      "Do you want Miss Wyatt's mail too?"

      "Yes; I'll take everything. What a lot! Is that all for us?" And Priscilla walked down the corridor swinging her note-book by its shoe-string, and opening envelops as she went. She was presently joined by Georgie Merriles, likewise swinging a note-book by a shoe-string.

      "Hello, Pris; going to English? Want me to help carry your mail?"

      "Thank you," said Priscilla; "you may keep the most of it. Now, that," she added, holding out a blue envelop, "is an advertisement for cold cream which no lady should be without; and that"—holding out a yellow envelop—"is an advertisement for beef extract which no brain-worker should be without; and that"—holding out a white envelop—"is the worst of all, because it looks like a legitimate letter, and it's nothing but a 'Dear Madam' thing, telling me my tailor has moved from Twenty-second to Forty-third Street, and hopes I'll continue to favor him with my patronage.

      "And here," she went on, turning to her room-mate's correspondence, "is a cold-cream and a beef-extract letter for Patty, and one from Yale; that's probably Raoul explaining why he couldn't come to the Prom. It won't do any good, though. No mortal man can ever make her believe he didn't have his collar-bone broken on purpose. And I don't know whom that's from," Priscilla continued, examining the last letter. "It's marked 'Hotel A–, New York.' Never heard of it, did you? Never saw the writing before, either."

      Georgie laughed. "Do you keep tab on all of Patty's correspondents?"

      "Oh, I know the most of them by this time. She usually reads the interesting ones out loud, and the ones that aren't interesting she never answers, so they stop writing. Hurry up; the bell's going to ring"; and they

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