Betty Lee, Junior Read online

  CHAPTER XVII

  CONCLUSIONS

  The next scene in this little drama of conflicting ideas and theirresults takes us to a small park where Jack led Betty to a bench andsat down beside her. Neither wore any hats and the late afternoonsunshine fell upon Betty's gold locks and Jack's dark ones throughthe Maytime green of boughs above them. They had talked ofincidental school matters on the short ride, when Betty hadpreferred the park to being entertained at a tea room.

  At once Jack had began to tell Betty how he had just heard about hergoing home, through the colored maid who had looked from adownstairs window and had seen Betty outside, "flyin' along as if deol' Nick hise'f was afteh her!" Jack's mouth showed some mirth as hequoted the dialect.

  "That was the way I felt, Jack. Honestly this is no joke. I wasfrightened about going home, but I was more scared to stay, Jack.I've no doubt but you intended to have me taken home safely. I wentto speak to you about matters but I saw that you were in nocondition, or mood, for that matter. Why, Jack, I never was whereanybody was intoxicated before, and I think it was _terrible_!"

  "Oh, Betty, it wasn't as bad as that. You're just a little gooseabout it. You'll get used to it."

  "Never. Do you think I'd risk having my senses half gone, or allgone, and not know, scarcely, what was happening?--besides gettingso you have to have it! And how did it happen that you didn't know Iwas gone? Just because _you_ didn't know what _was_ happening."

  "Ye-ah. That's the reason I wouldn't come out to your house. Ithought your father might meet me with a gun."

  "Please don't joke about it."

  Betty went on to explain that if there had been any older peoplethere at the time, she would have asked to be sent home and made"proper leave-takings." She described briefly her trip home, hersatin slippers muddy from the "April shower in May," her talk withher mother, and what her parents thought about the matter.

  "You see, Jack, in the little town we came from there was a nice boynext door that we just _saw_ going to pieces little by little andhaving his life ruined and breaking his mother's heart--losing hisjobs--I imagine you see more what drinking does to people in acountry town where you know everybody. Why, I'd be the most thankfulfriend you've got, Jack, if I thought you'd let it alone!"

  "Honestly, Betty, I don't know whether I could or not." Jack wasserious enough as Betty summed up the situation from her viewpoint.He folded his arms and looked down at the grass where a littlechipping sparrow was hopping about. Then suddenly his mood changed."Aw, Betty, come now. It isn't as bad as you think. Why, we'vealways had liquor of some sort around. Father's had it all his lifeand it never hurt him. (Oh, hasn't it? Betty thought.)

  "I was just celebrating my birthday a little too much--that was all.Let's forget it. I'll make it up to you. Mother's provoked about itand I think she was going to call up your mother today; but whateverour folks think we can be friends, can't we?"

  "Jack, as I told you when we began to talk about this, I lookedforward to that party, and I did and do appreciate all that yourmother and father did to make everything lovely for all of us. Itwas a wonderful entertainment, dinner, the pretty house, everything,and I don't for a minute think you are responsible for what theother boys brought in in their flasks, or for the way some of thembehaved. And you can count upon me, Jack, not to tell about thosethings at school, or anywhere else, for that matter.

  "But to be special friends or see much of each other--we just can't,that's all. We are too different. You think things are all rightthat I--well, you see how hard it is for us even to talk aboutthem." Betty stopped, for Jack was frowning.

  "How about that picnic that we fixed up that night at dinner? Yousaid you'd go. I promise you that I'll not have a drop of anythingwith me."

  Betty had all she could do to keep steady. Jack did like her, andhis eyes were so distressed. "Oh, I'd love to say it was all right,Jack, because you've been such a good friend; but even if I couldtell you that I would go, Mother and Father would never let me goanywhere with that crowd again."

  "How about me alone, with a different crowd?"

  "The same, Jack--I'm sorry." Betty, too, looked distressed.

  "I don't think you care very much, Betty." Jack jumped up. "I'lldrive you home unless you think that your parents will think youquite contaminated by the ride!"

  "Would you rather drive me home, or not, Jack? We could easily saygood-bye here. The street car line, only a block away, takes meright out home." Betty would really have preferred to take thestreet car, but Jack vetoed that.

  "I'm sore enough over all this," said he, "but I'd rather take youhome. I'm not a perfect bounder, and if you like I'll go into thehouse and talk to your mother."

  "I wish you would," said Betty, dreading it, however.

  But when the roadster drew up before the Lee home, Jack courteouslyaccompanied Betty to the front door, but said that he had changedhis mind about coming in. "I may do it some other time," said he.

  Betty, just inside the hall door, turned to see Jack hurrying out tohis car, starting it and rolling off with never a look backwards.She sighed, shut the door and went to ask her mother if Mrs. Huxleyhad telephoned. She had not. "It's all over, Mother, my talk withJack. Did you see him bring me home in his roadster? It's the lasttime, of course, but I can't tell you about what we said just now."To Betty's own surprise her voice shook and at her mother'ssympathetic look the tears came.

  "I think I've got to go off and cry," she said in a squeaky tone andas she fled toward her room she heard her mother say that she wouldkeep Doris away if she came home too soon. One lovely thing aboutMother was that she wasn't curious! She could wait until herchildren felt like telling her things.

  Betty, however, had some repentant thoughts. It would have beenbetter, perhaps, to have braved the opposition, or criticism, ordisagreeable circumstances at the party, as her father hadsuggested, to telephone to him at home, rather than to have riskedcoming home so late and alone. A city was no place for that. But ifshe wrote an apology to her hostess it might "mess things up worsethan ever," she concluded. Hereafter she would try to "keep herhead," but also never to get caught in such a situation.