LITMIR.BIZ

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crazy,” she said at breakfast, helping herself to a handful of toast. “You should never have let Daddy talk you into something like this. I’m darned if anybody’s going to talk me out of being a debutante next year. I’m going to be the debutantiest one of them all.”

      “I’ll bet!” Lynn said irritably. “Just you wait Daddy will have something to say about it when the time comes.”

      “He can say what he wants,” Dodie declared, “and it won’t make any difference. I’ll kick and scream and throw things at the walls. Daddy can’t hold out against something like that and he wouldn’t have held out against you either, if you had stood your ground. You just give in too easily.”

      Lynn thought of her father the night before, standing in the doorway. He had been ready to give in then. He had said, “If it means so much to you, Lynn—” All she would have had to reply was, “It does, Daddy. It means everything.”

      But she had not said it. Now she wished she had—but now it was too late. Her decision was made, and she was stuck with it.

      Lynn swallowed her orange juice and blotted her mouth carefully with a napkin, so as not to blur her lipstick. “Ready to go?” she asked her sister.

      Dodie glanced at her watch. “You go ahead. I told Janie I’d stop by her house and walk over with her.”

      “Janie!” Lynn exclaimed with an impatience not natural to her. “Janie, Janie, Janie! You two are inseparable. What do you see in her, anyway? I mean, she may be a nice enough girl, but you and she can’t have much in common. You’re a straight A student and I hear she flunked both her language courses last year.”

      “She won’t this year,” Dodie said. “I’m going to tutor her.”

      Lynn shook her head in bewilderment. Dodie never ceased to surprise her. Everything she did seemed out of character. It was difficult to imagine sharp-tongued Dodie sitting down patiently to tutor somebody in Latin. Sometimes Lynn felt that she did not understand her younger sister at all.

      The walk to school was a long and lonely one. The year before, she had always walked with Ernie and Nancy, but now Ernie was away and, somehow, she had missed Nancy. Evidently her friend had left too late or too early for her to intercept her on the way. She caught sight of some of the other girls from the Hill, walking ahead of her, but she was in no hurry to call out to them.

      They will have received their deb invitations, Lynn thought bitterly, and that’s all they will want to talk about.

      She sighed and walked on alone, arriving at school just as the first bell rang.

      It was not until lunch time that she had a chance to draw Nancy aside and confront her with the bad news.

      “I’m not going to be one of the debutantes this year.”

      “You’re not!” Nancy stared at her in amazement. “Lynn Chambers, what on earth are you talking about? Why, you were telling me on the phone just yesterday afternoon that you received your invitation.”

      “I know I did,” Lynn said. “But that was before I told my parents. Daddy doesn’t want me to make a debut.”

      “He doesn’t!” Nancy’s disbelief was slowly changing to horror. “You mean, you can’t be part of it all? How perfectly horrid! Why would he say a thing like that? How can he be so mean?”

      “He’s not mean,” Lynn said shortly, surprising herself at her immediate loyal defense of her father. “He doesn’t approve of debutantes, so he doesn’t want me to be one. That’s all there is to it.”

      Nancy gave her friend’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Well, try not to worry about it Lynn. Maybe he’ll change his mind when he sees that everybody else from the Hill is going to be in on it and when he sees how much fun we’re having and everything.”

      “Maybe,” Lynn said, knowing that he would not. Once her father’s mind was made up, nothing short of an earthquake was going to change it.

      By the time she had filled her tray at the cafeteria and seated herself at a table, Lynn found that everyone knew. She did not have to tell anyone of her father’s decision, for Nancy had spread the word for her, and she was greeted by a wave of sympathy.

      “It’s tough luck,” Holly Taylor declared. “But maybe your dad will come around.”

      Joan Wilson said, “I don’t understand how he could feel that way. Why, my father was delighted! He said he thought it sounded like a wonderful idea and a real social lift for the town.”

      Lynn murmured something unintelligible and tried to bury her face behind a sandwich. She sat quietly, letting herself fade more and more into the background as the other girls’ conversation picked up on all sides and rattled gaily on, from one end of the subject to the other and back again.

      “A party each weekend! That’s the way the schedule is going to run, and then every day of the holidays. My aunt is going to give my party—a luncheon—and it should be marvelous! Aunt Jenny always has such wonderful new ideas for things.”

      “Mother’s going to plan a dinner dance for us. She says she’ll even hire an orchestra!”

      “The Christmas parties are going to be the most exciting. All the fellows will be home from college, so we’ll have more boys than we know what to do with.”

      “Daddy says my big Christmas present this year will be a new dress for every Christmas party!”

      They were all talking at once—Joan, Holly, Nancy—the whole table full of girls. And down at the end, Lynn saw to her surprise, was Brenda Peterson, her mousy little face flushed with excitement.

      She’s part of it, Lynn thought, with an anger out of all proportion to the situation. She couldn’t get to be one of the gang any other way, so now her mother is buying her way in by organizing this debutante program.

      She had never before felt anything personal against Brenda Peterson. Now, watching her shy smile and the way she leaned forward eagerly to join the conversation, she felt a sudden, strong dislike.

      Glancing past Brenda to the next table, Lynn saw another group of girls quietly eating. They were not the Hill girls, but there were one or two of them whom she knew fairly well from sitting near them in classes. Rachel Goldman, a dark, attractive girl, had written the winning entry in last year’s essay contest. Clara Marivella was president of the square dance club, an organization none of the Hill crowd ever entered. Anne Masters, the girl Nancy had referred to as a “sweet little thing,” was telling them something. It must have been something funny, for Rachel and Clara both burst out laughing.

      Watching them, Lynn wondered what they were laughing at. She had never really noticed them very much before, but now, suddenly, she saw them as an attractive group of girls who seemed to be living satisfactory lives all their own, with their own friendships, their own jokes, their own laughter.

      Anne glanced up, caught Lynn’s eyes upon her and smiled. Her smile was natural and friendly and spontaneous, and automatically Lynn smiled back.

      She thought, I wonder what Anne Masters is like. It must be hard having a brother like Dirk. I wonder what she could have to say that would be so funny that everyone would start to laugh.

      Beside her, Joan was talking. Lynn turned, trying to catch the trend of the conversation.

      “. . . and so Father said, ‘Two hundred dollars apiece is an awful lot to contribute toward one dance.’ And Mother said, ‘It isn’t really, dear, if you knew how much it usually costs for a girl to make a debut. Why, in the big cities, each girl has her own coming-out party, and each one costs thousands of dollars. This way, there will just be one big ball, with everyone contributing toward it and everybody “coming out” at once.’ And when Father heard that he said,

      ‘O.K., O.K., I’m not arguing. I think it’s a fine idea.’Mother can handle him all right.”

      Lynn

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