Grace Harlowe\'s Problem

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Grace listened to the president's words with a feeling of joy so deep as
to be akin to pain. The shadow had indeed lifted. In the eyes of those
whose good opinion she valued so greatly she was worthy of her trust.
She never forgot that wonderful morning in President Morton's office.

When at last she left the president and Miss Wilder, to accompany Mrs.
Gray back to the Tourraine, she said with shining eyes, "Dear Fairy
Godmother, would you mind if we stopped at Wayne Hall. I _must_ see
Kathleen West."

"Of course you must," agreed Mrs. Gray briskly. "I should like to see
her myself. My opinion of that young woman is very high."

It seemed to Grace as though she could hardly wait until their taxicab
drew up in front of Wayne Hall. Mrs. Elwood herself answered the bell.

"Oh, Mrs. Elwood," cried Grace, "is Kathleen in?"

"Yes; she came in only a little while ago."

"I'll wait for you in the living room, Grace. Bring that blessed little
newspaper girl down stairs with you," directed Mrs. Gray.

As Grace hurried up the stairs and down the hall to the end room the
memory of another day, when she had sought Kathleen West to do her
honor, returned to her. Her face shone with a great tenderness as she
turned the knob and walked straight into the room without knocking. An
instant and she had folded in her arms the alert little figure that
sprang to meet her. "Kathleen, dear girl," she cried. "How can I ever
thank you?"

"Don't try," smiled Kathleen, her black eyes looking unutterable loyalty
at Grace. "I had to leave a milestone, you know, and I couldn't have
left it in a better cause. I enlisted long ago under the banner of
Loyalheart. So you see it was my duty to fight for her."

* * * * *

It was after three o'clock when Grace left Mrs. Gray at the Tourraine
and went back to Harlowe House. At Mrs. Elwood's urgent invitation they
had remained at Wayne Hall for luncheon, and with Patience added to
their number had held a general rejoicing over the way things had turned
out. Mrs. Gray's last words to Grace on saying good-bye to her at the
hotel were, "Grace, I am coming over to see you this evening."

Grace walked home, her heart singing a song of thanksgiving and
happiness. As she entered the house the maid met her with, "There's a
lady to see you, Miss Harlowe. She just came."

Grace stepped into the living room. A tall, gray-haired woman of perhaps
sixty, very smartly gowned, and of commanding appearance, rose to meet
her. "Are you Miss Harlowe?" was her abrupt question. Then before Grace
had time to do more than bow in the affirmative, she said with a
brusqueness intended to hide emotion, "My name is Brent. Jean Brent is
my niece. Tell me, is she with you still? I could not bring myself to
ask the maid. I was afraid she might say that my niece was not here." In
her anxiety, her voice trembled.

Grace's hand was stretched forth impulsively. "I am so glad," she said
eagerly. "Jean needs you. She will soon be home from her classes. Would
you like to go to her room?"

The woman returned Grace's hand clasp with a fervor born of emotion. She
was trying to hide her agitation, but Grace could see that she was
deeply stirred. Once in Jean's room she gave one curious glance about
her, then sank heavily into a chair and began to cry. "I have been a
stubborn, foolish woman," she sobbed. "I drove my little girl away from
me because I was determined to make her marry a man whom I now know to
be worthless. Oh, I am afraid she will never forgive me."

Grace was touched by the proud woman's tearful remorse, but she doubted
if Jean Brent would forgive her aunt. She had spoken most bitterly
against her. Grace tried to think of something comforting to say. But
before she could put her thoughts into words the door was suddenly
opened and Jean walked into the room. At sight of the familiar figure
she turned very pale. Her blue eyes gleamed with anger. She took a step
forward.

"What brought _you_ here?" she asked tensely.

"Jean, my child, won't you forgive me?" pleaded the woman holding out
her arms.

Grace waited to hear no more. But as she turned to leave the room she
caught one look at Jean's face. The sudden anger in it had died out.
Grace believed that all would be well, but whatever passed between aunt
and niece was not for her ears. She went directly to her room to wait
there until Emma came from her classes. She had so much to say to her
faithful comrade.

In due season Emma appeared with a cheery, "Hello, Gracious. How is
everything?"

"Everything is lovely. Emma Dean, you dear old humbug. No wonder you
couldn't look sad when I talked about leaving Harlowe House. Now,
confess. You were in the secret, weren't you?" Grace stood with her
hands on Emma's shoulders, looking into her face.

"The Deans of whom I am which, have always been advocates of the truth,"
solemnly declared Emma, "therefore I will follow their illustrious
example and answer 'I was.' You tied _my_ hands and _my_ tongue so I
couldn't fight for you, Gracious, but you couldn't tie Kathleen's."

"Oh, Emma, I have so much to tell you. I hardly know where to begin. I'm
so happy. It's wonderful to feel once more that I am considered worthy
of my work. You and I will have many more seasons of it, together."

"I wish we might," returned Emma, but a curious wistfulness crept into
her eyes that Grace failed to note.

The two friends talked on until dinner time and went downstairs
together, arm in arm. After dinner Emma pleaded an engagement with Miss
Duncan, Grace's former teacher of English, and left the house at a
little after seven o'clock. Grace slipped into her little office and
seated herself at her desk. How glad she was that all was well again.
Yes, she and Emma would, indeed, spend many more seasons together. Yet,
somehow, the thought of her work did not give her the same thrill of
satisfaction that it once had. Try as she might she could not keep
thoughts of Tom from creeping into her mind. Where was he to-night? Had
he forgotten her? Mrs. Gray had not once mentioned his name to her, and
she had not dared to ask for news of him. Her somber reflections were
interrupted by Jean Brent and her aunt. A complete reconciliation had
taken place. Miss Brent was now anxious to thank Grace for all she had
done in her niece's behalf. They lingered briefly, then went on to the
Hotel Tourraine, where Miss Brent had registered. They had not been gone
long when the ringing of the door bell brought Grace to her feet. Mrs.
Gray had arrived. She hurried to the door to open it for her Fairy
Godmother. Then she drew back with a sharp exclamation. The tall,
fair-haired young man who towered above her bore small resemblance to
dainty little Mrs. Gray.

[Illustration: Tom's Strong Hands Closed Over Hers.]

"Grace!" said a voice she knew only too well.

"Tom," she faltered. Then both her hands went out to him. His own strong
hands closed over them. The two pairs of gray eyes met in a long level
gaze.

"Come into my office, Tom." She found her voice at last. "I--I thought
you were thousands of miles away in a South American jungle."

"So I was, but I didn't go very deeply into it. Professor Graham met
with a serious accident and we had to turn back to civilization. He fell
and hurt his spine and we had to carry him to the nearest village, two
hundred miles, in a litter. Naturally that broke up the expedition, and
when he became better we decided to sail for home. Reached New York City
last week. I telegraphed Aunt Rose, and she wired me to meet her in
Overton. I came in on that 5.30 train. Of course I was anxious to see
you, so Aunt Rose told me to run along ahead. She'll be here in a
little while."

Once seated opposite each other in the little office, an awkward silence
fell upon the two young people.

"I am so glad nothing dreadful happened to you, Tom." Grace at last
broke the silence. "Those expeditions are very hazardous. I thought of
you often and wondered if you were well." There was a wistful note in
her voice of which she was utterly unconscious, but it was not lost on
Tom.

"Grace," he said tensely, "did you really miss me?" He leaned forward,
his face very close to hers. His eager eyes forced the truth.

"More than I can say, Tom," she answered in a low tone.

Tom caught her hands in his. She did not draw them away. "How much does
that mean, Grace? I know I vowed never to open the subject to you again,
but I never saw that look in your eyes before, and you never let me hold
your hands like this. Which is to be, dear; work or love?"

"Love," was the half-whispered answer. And the gate of happiness, so
long barred to Tom Gray, was opened wide.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BOND ETERNAL

The full moon shone down with its broadest smile on the group of young
people who occupied Mrs. Gray's roomy, old-fashioned veranda. As on
another June night that belonged to the past, Mrs. Gray's Christmas
children had gathered home.

"We're here because we're here," caroled Hippy Wingate. "But allow me to
make one observation."

"_One_," jeered Reddy Brooks. "You mean one hundred."

"That's very unkind in you, Reddy," returned Hippy in a grieved tone.
"Just to show you how entirely off the track you are I will make that
_one_ observation and subside."

"I didn't know you had such a word as 'subside' in your vocabulary,"
derided David Nesbit.

"Nora, where art thou? Thy husband is calling," wailed Hippy.

"I would hardly call that an observation," laughed Grace.

"It sounds more like an anguished appeal for help," remarked Anne.

"Or a perpetration by a deaf man who hasn't the least idea of how it
sounds," added Tom Gray cruelly.

"Nora," rebuked Hippy, fixing a disapproving eye on his wife, who was
laughing immoderately, "how can you hear your husband thus derided and
laugh at his suffering? Oh, if Miriam were only here to protect me. By
the way," he went on innocently, "where _is_ Miriam?"

"She will be here a little later," said Grace evasively.

"Ah, yes, I see," smirked Hippy. "I suppose she is looking up further
information on the drama. Miriam is really well-informed on that
subject. Did she go to the library or"--he paused and his smile grew
wider--"to the train?"

Absolute silence followed this pertinent question. Then Jessica giggled.
That giggle proved infectious. A ripple of mirth went the round of the
porch party.

"Here comes Miriam now." Grace pointed down the drive. Two figures were
seen strolling toward the house in leisurely fashion.

"Yes, here she comes. Better ask her what you just asked us," Reddy
satirically advised Hippy.

"Why ask questions when my eyes tell me it _was_ the train? Still, if
you think it advisable I will----"

"Be good," ordered Nora. "Don't you dare say one word."

"But I haven't made my observation yet," reminded Hippy.

"It will keep."

"Ah, here they come! Now for a pretty little speech of welcome." Hippy
rose and puffed out his chest, but before he could utter a word he was
jerked back by the coat tails to the porch seat on which he and Nora had
been sitting.

As Miriam and the man at her side neared the porch every one rose to
greet them. Then the women of the party exchanged smiling glances. On
Miriam's engagement finger shone the white fire of a diamond. The next
instant Everett Southard was shaking hands with Mrs. Gray and the Eight
Originals, while Miriam looked on, an expression of radiant happiness in
her eyes. Then the actor turned to her with the beautiful smile, that
Nora O'Malley had often declared was seraphic, and said: "Shall we tell
them now, Miriam?"

Miriam's black eyes glowed with the soft light that love alone could
lend to them. The pink in her cheeks deepened. "Yes," she acquiesced.

"Miriam and I are going the rest of our way together, dear friends," he
said simply. Anne thought she had never heard his voice take on a more
exquisitely tender tone. "I came from New York to tell you so."

Immediately a flow of congratulations ensued. In the midst of them Tom
Gray's eyes met Grace's. What he read there seemed to satisfy him. When
every one was again seated he walked over to the porch swing where Grace
and Anne sat idly rocking to and fro. Stopping directly in front of
Grace, he held out his hands to her. As she looked up at him her face
took on an expression of perfect love and trust. Placing her hands in
Tom's, Grace rose to her feet. Their friends watched the pretty tableau
with affectionately smiling faces. Then the two young people faced the
expectant company.

"You know, all of you, what I am going to say, so you must know, too,
how happy I am. Grace has promised to marry me." Tom's face was aglow
with happiness.

"My dear, dear child." Mrs. Gray rose, her arms extended to Grace. "I
have hoped for this ever since you were graduated from high school."
Grace embraced the old lady tenderly. Then her chums hemmed her in, and
congratulations began all over again.

"Talk about your surprises," beamed Reddy. "I hadn't any idea that Grace
and Tom had fixed up this one. I can't tell you how glad I am, old
fellow." He shook Tom's hand vigorously. David and Hippy followed suit.
The faces of the three young men fairly shone with joy. They had long
understood the depth of Tom's dejection over Grace's steadfast refusal
to give up her work for his sake.

"We saved it as a special feature of the occasion," laughed Tom, "but
I'll tell you three fellows a secret." He lowered his voice and the
laughter died out of his fine face, leaving it very serious. "I never
expected this happiness was coming my way. Long ago I gave up all idea
of ever being anything but a friend to Grace. I can't understand how it
all came about, and I suppose I never shall."

"Maybe we aren't tickled over your good fortune," said Hippy warmly.
"We've waited for this a long while. I always told Nora that it would
happen some day. I knew there was just one Tom Gray and that it would
only be a question of time until Grace found it out."

"No fair having secrets," called out Nora. "What and who are you boys
talking about in such low, confidential voices?"

"Me," beamed Hippy. "Reddy was just telling me that he never fully
appreciated me until cruel distance separated us. Of course I can't help
feeling touched. It is so seldom that Reddy appreciates anything or any
one. He is----"

The confidential group suddenly dissolved in a hurry. Reddy took hold of
Hippy's arm and rushed him down the steps and around the corner of the
house in an anything but gentle manner. "There," he declared, as he
returned to the porch alone. "That will teach him that he can't make
pointed remarks about me. I guess he felt 'touched' that time."

"N-o-r-a," wailed a pathetic voice. "Come and get me. I want to sit on
the veranda, too."

"Promise you'll be nice to Reddy, or I won't come after you," stipulated
Nora, making no effort to rise.

"I won't promise," came the defiant answer. "I don't like Reddy. He is a
hard-hearted ruffian."

"Thank you," sang out Reddy. "Now come back if you dare."

"I don't want to come back. I'd rather walk around by myself in the
garden."

Nothing further was heard from Hippy for a time. Conversation on the
veranda went on merrily. Apparently no one missed the stout young man.
Suddenly a bland voice at Reddy's elbow said, "Why, good evening,
Reddy." Hippy's fat face appeared between the lace curtains at the open
parlor window. He beamed joyfully at the company, then favored Reddy
with a smile so wide and ingratiating that the latter's fierce
expression changed to a reluctant grin. At this hopeful sign Hippy
clambered through the window and crowded himself into the swing between
Jessica and Anne, who had resumed their seats there. They protested
vigorously, then made room for him.

After announcing their engagement and receiving the congratulations of
their friends, Tom and Grace had seated themselves on a rustic bench a
little apart from the others. Grace's slim fingers lay within Tom's
strong hand.

"Grace," he said, bending toward her so that he could look into her
eyes, "are you perfectly sure that you love me? Are you quite content to
give up your work? You don't think there will ever come a time when you
will be sorry that you chose me instead? It still seems like a dream to
me. I can't believe that you and I are going to spend the rest of our
lives together. It's too much happiness. If you knew how black
everything seemed that rainy day when you sent me out of your life----"

"Hush, you mustn't speak of it," Grace lightly laid the fingers of her
free hand against Tom's lips. "I did not know how wonderful your love
for me was. It took sorrow and separation to make me see it. But I'm
_sure_ now, Tom, perfectly sure. I used to think I could never give up
being house mother at Harlowe House, but now I am entirely satisfied to
have Emma Dean take my place. She will do the work even better than I.
Harlowe House can spare me, but Tom Gray can't, and I can't spare him.
What you said to me so long ago came true, dear. When love came to me,
not even work could crowd it out. I have found my fairy prince at last."

"Then the prince is going to claim the princess and bind her to him
forever with a jeweled circle of gold," said Tom softly. His hand
reached into an inner pocket of his coat. Over Grace Harlowe's slender
finger was slipped the magic circle of gold, a glittering pledge of
eternal devotion, and as she touched the jeweled token with her lips the
knowledge came to her that though Loyalheart's pilgrimage in the Land of
College was ended, an infinitely more wonderful journey on the Highway
of Life was soon to begin.

How Grace Harlowe spent her last summer in her father's house before
starting upon that journey, with Tom Gray as her life-long guide, will
be told in "Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer."

THE END

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