Grace Harlowes Plebe Year at High School | Page 4

Grace, looking at her watch, "and
then, if no one comes, we will cast the votes."
"No, no," exclaimed Miriam impatiently. "I have an engagement and
can't spare any more time. I vote that we have the election at once,
without waiting another moment."
"Very well," assented Grace. "I only suggested waiting because Anne
Pierson promised to come, and, of course, every girl in the class has a
right to vote at the class elections."
"Anne Pierson?" cried Miriam, turning crimson with suppressed rage.
"Yes," answered Grace calmly; "but, if everybody is agreeable, suppose
we go ahead."
"Agreed!" cried the others and the ballots were cast.
There was not much parliamentary practice in these class elections.
Each girl wrote the name of her choice on a slip of paper and dropped it

in a hat. Four of the girls then counted the votes, and the one receiving
the most slips was declared elected.
The slips were dropped into the hat, amid the silence of the company.
Some of the sophomores and juniors, perched on parallel bars, watched
the scene with superior amusement, but no notice was taken of their
half-whispered jeers.
The four girls then retired to count the votes.
"It's a tie," announced Marian Barber, returning presently; "a tie
between Grace and Miriam. I wish some of the others would come and
settle the matter."
"Here's some one," cried Nora. "Here's Anne Pierson. Let her cast the
decisive vote."
Miriam's eyes blazed, but she held her peace. There was nothing to do
but submit with an uneasy grace. But who could doubt what the
outcome would be? However, she felt somewhat relieved when Grace
said:
"I think we should cast the votes over again, and, according to the rules
we made last year, Miriam and I should not vote, since the election
rests between us."
The votes were cast again, Anne timidly dropping her slip in the hat
with the others, and, as might have been expected, Grace was elected
captain of the Freshman Basketball Team of the Oakdale High School.
CHAPTER II
THE SPONSOR OF THE FRESHMAN CLASS
"Grace," asked Mrs. Harlowe, the day of the famous freshman tea,
"have you asked some of the girls to help this afternoon? Bridget can
attend to the sandwiches, but some one ought to pour the lemonade and
generally look after the wants of the others."

Grace was arranging a bowl of China asters on the piano in her
mother's charming drawing room. The shining mahogany chairs and
tables reflected the glow of the wood fire, for the day was chilly, and
bright chintz curtains at the windows gave a cheerful note of color to
the scene.
"Oh, yes, mother," replied Grace. "Nora and Jessica, of course, and
Anne Pierson."
"And who is Anne Pierson?"
"I don't know who she is," answered Grace. "I never knew her until she
entered the High School. But she is terribly poor. Her mother is an
invalid and her sister takes in plain sewing. I really asked her at first
because Miriam Nesbit was rude to her one day. But I'm beginning to
like her so much, now, that I'm glad I did it. She's as quiet as a little
mouse, but she is fast taking first place in class. I believe she will
outstrip Miriam before the end of the year. Don't ask me who she is,
though. I haven't the least idea, but she's all right, I can promise you
that. I'm sorry for her because she is poor. They live in a little
broken-down cottage on River Street."
Mrs. Harlowe looked dubious. Grace was always bringing home stray
people and animals, and the mother was accustomed to her daughter's
whims. The young girl was familiar to all the ragamuffins of the town
slum, and when she sometimes found one gazing wistfully through the
fence palings of her mother's old-fashioned garden, she promptly led
him around to the kitchen, gave him a plate of food on the back steps,
picked him a small bouquet and sent him off half-dazed with her
gracious and impetuous kindness.
"Well, my dear, I shall be prepared for anything," exclaimed Mrs.
Harlowe; "but remember that feeding people on the back steps and
asking them into the parlor to meet your friends and acquaintances are
two different matters altogether."
"Don't be afraid, mother," replied Grace. "You will like Anne as well as
I do, once you get to know her. You must be careful not to frighten her

at first. She is the most timid little soul I ever met."
Just then the front gate clicked and two girls strolled up the red-brick
walk, their light organdie dresses peeping out from the folds of their
long capes.
"Here come Nora and Jessica," cried Grace excitedly, running to the
door to meet her