San Diego State University - Del Sudoeste Yearbook (San Diego, CA)

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12 WHITE AND GOLD a light. What does it all mean?H and ran on in the easiest, kindest, most girlish way. You,d neverlve known her for the same person that had stared so coldly at us on the school porch the afternoon before. She jumped up and turned on the light, and there was Miss Blair in the full glare of the electric light, still sitting tailor-fashion on the hearth- rug, with a toasted marshmallow dribbling off her hatpin, and she smiling up at us-yes, she was smiling, like a girl, for the first time; I guess we all stared pretty hard, we coulant help it. Then Sherlock said, HMiss Blair, have you ever met these young ladies? lSpecial friends of mine. Corinne James, Teresa Lang, Gladys Mason, Leslie ChestereMiss Blair.H She was so dear and funny that we all laughed and that made it easier. The best part of all is the part that is hardest to tell. Such a splen- did time we had, telling stories and playing games and toasting marsh- mallows. The spread was great andedo you know-Gladys had brought that sixth menu card that should have been Lucyls, so Miss Blair had that. Wasn't that luck? Everything looked prettye-the table spread on the floor, with the Neapolitan cream, pink and white and green, and the cards and a big green Japanese bowl of acacia in the middle. It WAS a surprise party, though. I donlt think any of us girls will ever forget it-and Miss Blair, how dear she was, and humorous and interesting, just as we'd never dreamed she could be. ThereIs only one thing that I can say, and that's the biggest compliment I know of; she was worthy of being Sherlockls friend. In the middle of the spread she had to go, though it was early still. We were all honestly sorry. Sheld just stood up and was saying good- bye, with her hand on the door knob, When T erry-whold been quiet and saddish all the eveningegot up quick with her eyes burning big and black and her face gone white. I tried to pull her down, but she switched free and knocked my spoon out of my hand with her haste. We all felt sort of frightened and foreboding, but there wasn't much time for that, for Terry spoke up sharply in the still room, not seeing any of us but Miss Blair: t'Youlll forgive me, wonlt you--oh, Miss Blair, wonlt you-!', and her voice dropped into a ragged little whisper at the end, and she held out her hand across the table-cloth to Miss Blair by the door. Miss Blair didn't say a word but caught Terry,s hand in a fierce, loving sort of way; her eyes were wet and her breath was quick. Then all of a sudden she was gone and Terry stood sort of reminiscently for a minute. We were all quiet, all thinking, I splose of the same thing. Then Sherlock said suddenly, HIlll have some fudge, I think, Corinne, and we were all n'ght again. After we,d finished and the light was turned off again and we were I

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WHITE AND GOLD 11 with Miss Blair; for, of course, you see, it was a tribe-alfairewe wouldnt have dreamed of shoving the whole responsibility onto poor Terry. And next, how could we ever approach Sherlock about it. And there was the surprise -party. Weld all saved all our spending money for the last month and we couldn,t bear to have it fall through-and the menu-cards were all made and the Neapolitan ice-cream ordered! Finally we decided to risk it; to have the surprise and a big comfortable lfess-up all together with Miss Holmes, and rely on her to help us out in regard to Miss Blair. We tried to comfort Terry and recover the nice spirit of anticipation; but somehow even St. Valentine seemed stony-hearted. The next day everything was the same as usual; Miss Blair was just the same as ever, cold and distant, not a whit changed; we didnt go near Miss Holmes, and I guess Terry would have walked five miles tolve avoided going to zoology lecture. None of us felt in a. specially festive mood, even toward the end of the day, and to cap the climax, Lucy's mother sent a message saying that Lucy couldnlt come to the party; she had a sick headache. Imagine how we felt. We were positively weak-kneed; I dont believe anyone ever realized what safety there is in? numbers. Then of course Terry had to have an attack of cold feet, and it took an hour or so to coax and bully her into seeing reason. It was only when she was reminded that the N eapolitan cream was ordered and would be eaten by the landlady at our expense, that she sat up and took notice. So we went, finally. When we actually got to the upper hall and were preparing for the onslaught, I began to feel silly and weak and giggly, and if Terry hadn't had another panic I'd have had hysterics then and there probably. But it took me and Gladys and Corinne to talk her into a suitable frame of mind; and even then she objected so persistently that Corinne took one arm and Gladys the other and I pushed behind, down the hall like a streak to Sherlockls room. Before she had a chance to run, Corinne knocked at the door and opened it and in we marched. May- be you think we weren't surprised. The light wasnlt on, but there was a dandy fire in the fireplace, and a row of apples roasting on the grate, and there, sitting cross-legged on the floor like two girls, with the chaling-dish lamp and a box of marsh- mallows between them, were Miss Holmes and Miss Blair! Talk about your surprise parties! Of all the idiotic, painful, impossible, unheard- of situations, that was the worst. We were all-we girlseutterly speechless, and I felt Terry begin to jerk away, as if sheld bolt, so I cleared my throat. But dear old Sherlock saved my life by beginning, HWhy, girls! Terry, Corinne,Gladys and Leslie! wherels Lucy? Isn't this jolly! Wait till I lick the marshmallow off this hat pin and well have

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WHITE AND GOLD 13 sitting by the fire, Terry leaning against Sherlocks kneeewe felt that all the nice things were Terryls clue that evening, somehoweMiss Holmes, without any warning, began to tell us a story. It was about a girl, the eldest of four, whose father had died when they were all very young, leaving the mother to support them. It wasnt a pleasant story. The girl had talent that ought t0,ve been cultivated, but there wasnlt money and, worse, there wasnlt time. She had to go out to teach when she was sixteen, in a mining towne-rough boys as old as she, and older. There were six years of that; then she worked her way through college, and everything was looking hopeful, when she-the girlewas in a railway accident and was injured; she was laid up for two years, and all the money sheld saved was spent for doctors and hospitals. So she started over, never quite well again, teaching in a high school, and was beginning to look ahead again after a little, when her youngest brother lost all he bade which was precious little-in a worthless bank, and he with a wife and little baby. The girl helped him-gave him all she hadeshe was the sort to give and he was the sort to take-and started out again for a. third fight. That's all there was to the story, and Sherlock ended: Would you blame the girl if she'd lost heart, and faith in the world and men? Would you blame her if she had grown hard and cold on the outside in her en- deavor to keep the divine flre alive in her heart for the sake of her nearest and dearest? Would you, Terry? And then, suddenly, we knew.