Free from school duties, Greycliff girls made plans for the coming year and threw themselves into the relief work. There were letters from somewhere in France, boxes sent and mementos received. The great drive was on in Europe and haunting fear hovered over American homes thus far untouched. Yet men, women and maids went courageously forward doing “their bit.”

Cathalina and Lilian had already made their arrangements to study in New York. Lilian was giving up her music temporarily, for she said that she did not have the heart to sing while Philip was in France. But she was continually singing, after all, in patriotic gatherings or in the hospitals.

Hilary had decided to go to the denominational school which her parents had selected. Always considering what would be to her advantage, they concluded that school life would be less distracting for her away from home, unless she really preferred to be at home and attend the excellent university in the city. But Betty wrote that her father was considering the same school for her, and that Eloise and Helen were waiting for her decision, hoping that they all might be together again. After a little correspondence, the matter was settled and the girls were greatly delighted at the prospect.

Pauline Tracy and Juliet Howe were to attend a western state university miles and miles away from any of the girls they knew,—so they wrote.

Virginia Hope’s application for a school near her home was successful. Poor Isabel, perhaps, would have the most lonely time. All the older Hunt boys were in the army now, even Jim, who had shared the fatherly responsibility for discipline and finances. It was Isabel’s form of service to stay at home, put as much cheer as possible into the house, for the sake of the two younger boys, Aunt Helen and her father, and take up again the friendships of the home town. To this end Isabel was bending all her energies when school opened for the rest in September.

About this time, the first round robin spread its wings, carrying epistles somewhat brief on this first flight, and flew with surprising speed from one to another, because the girls knew that a quick report of where they all were was needed. Betty, who started it before she left home for school, wrote across the top of her first page, in large capitals, “Procrastination is the thief of time,” and under this, in smaller but heavily underscored letters, “Do It Now.”

The girls followed her advice and wrote without delay, before the freshness of the news had been lost.

When this round robin reached Betty again, it had grown much in size. Taking out her first letter, she replaced it with another and started the robin anew. But it was delayed this time. Things were happening. The war was being won, the armistice came, Christmas time, soldiers coming home—what wonder that girls found little time to write to each other in this fashion. Betty and Cathalina wrote often, and Lilian heard regularly from Hilary; but three weeks after Betty had handed the round robin to Hilary she inquired for it, to find that it was in Helen’s portfolio.

Hilary had been writing a theme and was late in handing the letters to Eloise. Eloise was to sing at a recital, and Helen had just forgotten it. Such is sometimes the fate of round robins! By the time the letters reached Pauline and Juliet, it was nearly time for the Christmas vacation, and when they arrived in New York the March days were on, many of the soldier boys at home, and life changing very fast for some of the Greycliff girls.

“Round robin coming home again,” said Hilary, as she threw the fat envelope in Betty’s lap one spring day. “Let’s all read it together.”

“Yes, let’s do,” said Helen, “and I will make a few extracts for Evelyn. I had a forlorn letter from her today, asking why I did not write and saying that she was starved for news from everybody.”

“She ought to have joined the round robin company.”

“So she says; I will put her name on the list, Betty, and this time I will just tell her the main things. I’ll call it ‘feathers from the round robin’.”

“That is good, Helen, and be sure to give her our special love. Is Percy back?”

“Yes, but Evelyn is interested in one of the wounded boys now, a sort of cousin of hers.”

“The one she was engaged to once?”

“Oh, yes.”

Betty was opening the large envelope and sorting out the letters which had been written by the “assembled company,” as she said. “Shall we glance through each other’s letters?” she asked.

“We know all each other’s news,” reminded Hilary.

“Yes, but we might have said something brilliant, you know,” suggested Eloise. “It would be a pity to miss anything.”

“Oh, here’s something characteristic from Isabel,” said Betty a little later. “Listen! She says, ‘I have just devoured the round robin! Query,—what can you devour and not destroy? The answer is,—a round robin. It was so good to hear from you all again.’” Here Betty exclaimed, with a sympathetic “Oh, poor Isabel!”

“What is it?” asked all the girls.

“I’ll just go and read it: ‘You will be sorry for us when I tell you about Lou, who is still in a hospital in France, and we have been so worried. At first we got such good news about him, we thought, but he was gassed and wounded, too, and is not doing very well. Milt is with him, though, and will bring him home in a few weeks, he thinks. Jim is a casual now—I’m thankful to say not a casualty—and is wandering around at the pleasure of various authorities. It is so aggravating when we want him to come home so much and he is needed. But there are other men in the army that are worse off.’”

“Take the New York letters next, Betty, will you? We’ve finished reading these from Pauline and Juliet,—or would you rather read them first.”

“No, I don’t care in what order I read them. Here are those from Cathalina and Lilian. Shall I read Cathalina’s to you?”

“Yes,” said Helen, “and Hilary can read Phil’s.”

The news from New York was especially interesting, though Hilary had heard some of it through letters from Campbell Stuart. The cousins, however, had been widely separated and knew little of each other’s movements.

“Think of it,” said Helen, “another school year almost gone, and the boys coming home!”

“It has been a long year,” said Hilary, “and some of them are sleeping ‘on Flander’s Field’.”

But it was in April that the most astounding news came to Betty and the other girls. It came in a letter from Cathalina, who told how Lilian’s brother Dick came home looking more ‘fit’ than ever in his life, and how he and Captain Van Horne, who was growing strong after his wounds, were in the law office with every chance of success, how Philip was trying to build up the business which had suffered during the war, with much more about everybody. Then she asked, “Are you girls prepared to be bridesmaids in June?”

“Oh, now Lilian and Phil are going to be married!” exclaimed Hilary. “Funny that she has not said so to me!”

Betty shook her head. “Guess again,” said she.

“Dick and Louise Van Ness,” said Helen.

“But they would not want us to be bridesmaids.”

“I see a dawning intelligence on Hilary’s face,” laughed Betty. “It is, Hilary, it’s Cathalina.”

“Cathalina!” exclaimed Helen.

“Bless her heart, it was his wound that did it,” said Eloise.

“I can’t read you all the letter, and yet I know in my bones that she will tell you all about it when you see her. Cathalina is shy about some things, you know.”

“Cathalina!” exclaimed Helen again. “Now I would have said that Lilian would be the first and Hilary the second bride, unless Betty, possibly,——”

Helen was looking at Eloise as she spoke, and Eloise assented to her statement.

“Not I,” laughed Betty. “I’m thankful that Donald escaped the submarines, but it will be some years yet before we can get married. Both of us have to finish college and then Donald will have to get a start in business. Philip and Dick and Cathalina’s lover are lucky.”

“When did you say the wedding is to be?” asked Helen.

“In June, but the date is not fixed yet. She wants us all for bridesmaids and will fix the time after school is out, is writing to all the girls to find out if they can come.”

“Whom do you mean by all the girls? She couldn’t have the whole Psyche Club, could she?”

“No; she said that she was afraid Pauline, Juliet and Virgie could not even get to the wedding from things they have written about their plans, you know. She wants me for maid of honor,—think of it—her mother wants to have a big wedding and Cathalina doesn’t mind. Then she wants to have you three girls, of course, with Lilian and Isabel, and then that cousin of hers that is about her age, Nan Van Ness. And Charlotte Van Ness is to be flower girl. She says that is as far as she has planned. No, for there is one thing more,—she wants us to have delicate colors, different colors, and be the ‘butterfly girls’ of the Psyche Club.”

“Oh, that will be lovely. Cathalina will make a beautiful bride. Did she say how she is going to be dressed or anything more about how she wanted the bridesmaids’ dresses to be?”

“No, only that she hadn’t thought it out yet, and she wants us to be planning to come as soon as school is out in June for a real house-party again.”

“A house-party, and while they are getting ready for a wedding?” asked Helen in surprise.

“Cathalina wrote—well, I’ll read it to you: ‘I have not thought out the details yet. It is all so new and wonderful to be engaged to a man who,’—maybe I’d better leave out that—anyway she says that it’s love’s young dream as yet. ‘But Mother and I will sit down some day and put it all on paper, just what we want, and then the housekeeper and the decorator and the caterer will carry it all out. I’m going to let Mother plan my clothes. We’ll do some shopping together right away, and perhaps Lilian and Mrs. North will go with us some time. Aunt Katharine will take an interest, too. So about all little Cathalina will have to do is to try on clothes and say whether she likes them or not. At first I did not like the thought of a big wedding, but Mother has just one girl to be married, and believes in being married in church, and then we have so many friends and such a family connection that there isn’t any other way.’”

“I see,” said Helen. “I suppose that Mrs. Van Buskirk is used to planning for big entertainments.”

“I think that they usually have small companies, but they can have the others and do occasionally,” said Hilary. “Then they have plenty of help always. In some ways it’s more fun to do things yourself, but this will be as perfect as money and good taste can make it. And we shall have a glorious visit.”

“What shall we give her for our wedding present?”

“The Psyche Club might give her a pretty little white marble Psyche.”

“A fine idea, Hilary. Cathalina would love that, I know,—a real beautiful one. But perhaps she has one.”

“No; she spoke about it once and that is what made me think of it, but I’m pretty sure that she has not bought one.”

“Then that makes the club present provided for. I’m afraid it will be hard to think up presents for one who has everything she wants—almost.”

“I felt that way, too, at first,” said Hilary, “when I first visited Cathalina, but there are ever so many real simple things that Cathalina likes and I never knew anybody that appreciated being thought of more than Cathalina. Not that she expects it at all, but she shows so much real pleasure and delight that it warms your heart to do anything for her.”

“Cathalina admires my embroidery,” said Eloise, “and I’m going right down street tomorrow and buy the finest linen I can find and start something. What shall it be?—doilies? table cover?—Oh, well, I can think it out better after I look around the shops a little.”

“I could hemstitch and embroider some ‘hankys’,” said Helen.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to have a shower while we are at Cathalina’s?”

“Yes, Betty, but we would not be there long enough beforehand.”

“Cathalina says that she wants us two weeks beforehand, if it is possible.”

“Let’s hope that school closes early, then.”

“We can plan to leave right after examinations, and not stay for the Commencement. We are not graduating, and what is a Commencement compared with a wedding?”

“If we had not been to so many Commencement exercises at Greycliff we might not think so, but I fully agree with you,” said Hilary. “We can go right on now with plans for our little gifts and have our clothes ready for the trip. Think of it!”

On the next mail there came a letter from Cathalina directed to Hilary and addressed to all the girls, inviting them to be her bridesmaids and telling of her plans. The date was the same as that of Betty’s and the two letters had been mailed at the same time. “I’m going to write to each one of you, separately, and later will have more to tell you about plans. If you have any suggestions,—mail them on!” There was much more, all in the happiest vein. Later the formal invitations were sent.

In New York, there was among the relatives a pleasant excitement over the engagement and approaching marriage of Cathalina. Nan Van Ness, who was the only one of the girls in the family to be a bridesmaid, was at the Van Buskirk house a great deal of the time. Lilian ran in and out, of course, and the girls were in the gayest of spirits. Philip suggested to Lilian that there be a double wedding, but Lilian said that it would not do.

“I’m sure that your mother would want this to be Cathalina’s own wedding, Philip. I know I would in her place. And besides, I believe I should prefer to have a wedding of my own, too. Then I can’t leave Mother for a little while. Hearing that Dick was ‘missing’ and not knowing any better for a month nearly finished her and she has not gotten over it yet.”

“All right, best and dearest,” said Philip. “We’ll give our little sister the finest wedding ever, and then I shall not have to wait too long, shall I?”

“Not very long, Philip. You have been through enough, and I’ll try to make you forget the sad things in being happy with me. Mother will not want to keep us apart. I’ve just been so pleased to see how she fusses over you since you came home, almost as much as she does over Dick.”

The older girls in the family connection did not expect to be bridesmaids for this wedding. Cathalina had worried about it a little at first, although Nan was the only one who was of her own age. She loved the older girls, but did want her “butterfly girls,” as she sometimes called the girls of the Psyche Club. And after Cathalina learned through Aunt Katherine and Louise Van Ness that Ann Maria would be married some time in the summer or fall to a young officer, she knew that Louise and Emily and the other girls in Ann Maria’s circle of friends would be bridesmaids for her.

June came and brought the “butterfly girls” to New York. Leaving before Commencement permitted them to arrive about the close of the first week in June, and ten days before the wedding. The pretty bridesmaid gowns were carefully boxed and came through in good condition. Cathalina’s and Mrs. Van Buskirk’s maids unpacked for the girls and put their clothes in drawers and closets. Hilary and Betty were in the rose room, Eloise and Helen near, Isabel in a small room, to sleep by herself in the few hours which they spent in that occupation, though Mrs. Van Buskirk came around herself to see that they did not talk too late, reminding them that they must keep in fine condition for the great event.

There was so much to talk about! Nearly a year, and a strange year, had some of them been separated Cathalina waited till all the girls had arrived and then showed them her pretty trousseau. “Dainty and lovely, like you, Cathalina,” said Isabel.

“I haven’t had anything packed yet, because I wanted you all to see everything,” said Cathalina, “but the maid is going to begin as soon as Mother and I select what I shall want with me. We are going to Canada for our wedding trip, not much of a trip, just to get there and stay in a perfectly beautiful country place. We shall be there a month and then may join the folks at the seashore. It’s all beautifully indefinite, and Allan and I don’t care where we are just so we are together.”

“‘Allan,’—Captain Van Horne! I was going to ask you, Cathalina, if you called him by his first name.”

Cathalina laughed. “He doesn’t seem so old to me now as when he was an instructor at Grant. He’s a good deal of a boy, now that he is happy and does not have to worry about law school and making a living and all that. He works too hard, of course, I suppose he always will, but he has such a fine opportunity now that he need not worry. We are not going to begin on any large scale of living. Just think, girls, what if I had never learned anything but just being waited on and wanting everything. We are going to get a darling little apartment as soon as we come back and start in that. Mother mourns a little and says, ‘Think of this big house and nobody but your father and me pretty soon!’ But I think that Father admires both Allan and Phil for wanting to be independent. If the presents keep coming at the rate they are, a little apartment will not hold them all. However, I can store them here.”

“When did it happen, Cathalina?” asked Isabel.

“Getting engaged, you mean?”

Isabel nodded. “I do not mean to be inquisitive, but we thought that you did not hear from him very often,—and so I just wondered when.”

“No, I did not hear from him often, neither was I sure that he cared in that way for me. I dreamed of him, but was more or less ashamed of it, and scolded myself for having such a hero when he probably only thought of me as a good friend—though there were times——”

“Yes,” said Betty. “If ever there was adoration in a man’s eyes, it was in Captain Van Horne’s one time, on that picnic at Greycliff. I told Cathalina so, but she made light of it.”

“What else could I do?” asked Cathalina. “The reason I didn’t hear was that he was in action so much of the time, and he was wounded twice. The first time it didn’t amount to much and he went back, but the second time he was in the hospital over there a long time, and was sent home from there. He came to New York, but got sick on the way, and had to go to a hospital here. Then he wrote me a little note and I went to see him.” Cathalina stopped. “I can just see him now,” she went on in a moment, lowering her voice. “He was so thin and white and he stretched out both his hands to me and called me his darling. I felt like his mother and went right to him and slipped my arm under his head! Wasn’t it dreadful? He says that he had just waked up and when the nurse showed me in he thought it must be in heaven. Philip jokes me about it and tells me that Allan was out of his mind and that I took advantage of it! But if he were out of his mind for a minute it would not explain all he told me when he was in his right mind a few minutes later and it all came out; so I have no reason to wonder about whether he loves me or not.”

“It’s funny how suddenly these things do happen,” said Hilary, thinking of her own experience.

“Yes,” said Betty, “but you must remember that everything has been so different with our boys, and such tragedies of separation have happened that there has been good reason for romantic and sudden——”

“Episodes,” finished Isabel.

The girls were all sitting on Cathalina’s bed from which the pretty dresses and other things had been cleared after the display, or on chairs drawn close as they held this rather intimate conversation, all so interested and sympathetic toward the prospective bride. Isabel was on one side of Cathalina and Betty on the other, and all the girls were so delighted to have the short reunions, so eager to hear the confidences.

“As soon as Allan was able he went into the office and besides that he had a little bit of good luck in getting some property sold that had been only an expense, something from his father’s estate, I guess,—you know, Betty, how beautifully indefinite I am. I don’t really know, except that he can afford to get married now. He is coming to call this evening and see you all. Now ask Lilian how her love affair is coming on.” Cathalina turned with a smile to her future sister-in-law.

“Yes, Lilian,” said Eloise, “tell us when that event will be.”

“Before so very long, Eloise, but Mother is not well and I shall just quietly get ready and have a small wedding, though probably in the same church, and just have the family in afterwards. Mrs. Van Buskirk wants to give a reception for us after our trip, so that will probably happen. Could you girls get back for it? I hate to be married without you.”

The girls looked doubtful and regretful. “We always expected to have this reunion at your wedding, Lilian,” said Eloise, “and did not dream that Cathalina would be the first one to leave our ranks; but perhaps you are really more free to visit than you will be later when you are getting married yourself.”

“There is something in that, Eloise,” acknowledged Lilian. “But come, if you possibly can,” she added, and the girls all promised that they would.

That first evening, Allan Van Horne duly appeared. It was the first time that the girls had seen him not in uniform, either that of the school where he taught or that of Uncle Sam, and they came to the conclusion that he appeared well in citizen’s ordinary attire.

“He is handsome even without the uniform, Cathalina,” said Isabel when she had opportunity for a private remark.

“I don’t know that he is what you would call a handsome man,” replied Cathalina reflectively, looking across the room at her prospective husband, who was chatting with Philip, Lilian and Betty. “But he carries himself so well and has such a fine face. Of course, I think that he is just about the most adorable man there is.”

“What color are his eyes? I thought they were blue, but they look like brown eyes tonight.”

“Isn’t that funny? Betty insisted that they were blue, and I thought of them as brown, and they really are, I guess, though Allan says that he was said to have hazel eyes. Anyway they are nice, kind eyes.”

Hilary and Campbell were having a little visit now, their chairs drawn near the piano, where Philip had gone to look over some music for Lilian to sing. Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk had settled down to read a little or visit the young people, as it might happen. It was like the good old days before the war, and the sound of young voices and young laughter cheered their hearts.

Campbell was telling Hilary a piece of good news. “They want me at the college, Hilary. I had a letter today from the president. I will be an instructor at first, but with a fair salary, and a chance to get out my master’s degree right there. And summers I can work on my line, too. They will make me an assistant professor as soon as I get the master’s degree and I can take care of you then. Will you marry me as soon as you graduate?”

Hilary clasped her hands and exclaimed. “Why, Campbell, what an opportunity! So I’m to be the wife of a distinguished professor of economics?”

“I don’t know how ‘distinguished,’ but a respectable teacher, I hope,” replied Campbell.

“Perhaps you ought to wait until you have all your study accomplished,” said Hilary.

“The college—university—is big enough for me to do most of it right there; besides, I want to get a great deal of my material from life and a study of actual conditions. That is what the department there wants, and the president was good enough to say that he thought I was the man who could bring them what they want. Then they don’t know what a wonderful wife I’m going to take there!”

Hilary laughed. “Well, I do not see but we could marry next summer some time, while you have your vacation. I shall be graduated about this time, and you will be through with your first year’s work.”

Just then from the hall came several young men in uniform, ushered by Watts. “Bob Paget!” exclaimed Cathalina, and the whole company rose while Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk, Philip and Cathalina went forward to greet the callers. They were Robert Paget, Lawrence Haverhill and two other young officers who had recently arrived from France and were still in uniform. This was very thrilling to Isabel, who began to feel that she was not altogether left out of romance when Robert, having renewed acquaintance with his cousin, Helen, selected Isabel as the object of his chief attentions for the rest of the evening, saying to Cathalina as he left. “She is as sweet and pretty as a rose. How did it happen that I never met that one?”

“You were away, I think, when she was here,” Cathalina replied, and saved the remembrance of his words, to repeat to Isabel.

Cut glass, silver, linen, china,—the gifts came pouring in these last few days. Then there was a little of the old Van Buskirk silver which was Cathalina’s share. “I’ve found out, girls,” said she, “that Martin Van Buskirk was not the first one at all and did not come from Holland to fight in the Revolution. We had it all looked up when somebody wanted to go into the Daughters of the Revolution. It was a Laurens Van Buskirk who came from Denmark and bought a lot on Broad Street, New Amsterdam,—’way back in 1655. And what do you think,—a John Van Buskirk married an Esther Van Horn about 1750! So this isn’t the first time that Van Buskirk and Van Horn have married. We are going to see if she is an ancestor of Allan’s, if we can find out. She was Esther Van Horn Van Buskirk, and I’ll be Cathalina Van Buskirk Van Horne. See Isabel shaking her head! What’s the matter, Isabel?”

“All these ‘Vans’ are too much for me, It’s a good thing you can keep them straight, Cathalina.”

At last there came the eventful occasion, a mid-June night. Everything was ready at the Van Buskirk home and an extra maid or two helped the girls with their dressing. Cathalina had disappeared from view entirely several hours before, as her mother insisted upon a little rest for everybody that afternoon, and trays were brought to the rooms about five o’clock. Bags and trunks were already at the station, checked for the trip and Allan Van Horne had his tickets safely in the suit to which he would change from his dress suit. Phil remarked that as there were so many details to attend to about a wedding he thought that he would “just kidnap Lilian, stop at a minister’s to be married, and catch the first train out of New York, or take the boat.”

“Where to?” asked Lilian upon this occasion.

“Heaven,” promptly replied Philip. “Anywhere with you would be that.”

There had been plenty of fun in this time of visiting, but some seriousness, too. And now the wedding promised to be as beautiful as Mrs. Van Buskirk wanted it to be for Cathalina.

The night was star-lit, warm, but not stifling, and the June roses in the vases gave the proper atmosphere to the house. Mr. Van Buskirk told the girls, as they gathered downstairs preparatory to the ride to the church, that they did indeed look like “butterfly girls,” with their vari-colored frocks of soft silk and filmy tulle. All the colors were pale, Betty’s frock, blue; Lilian’s, peach; Hilary’s, green; Eloise’s, yellow; Helen’s, orchid; Isabel’s, pink; and Nan’s, lavender. Smiling, girlish faces above these pale shades and the flowers made a charming picture for the bride to look upon as she entered to see the girls before leaving.

They had been talking a little, as they waited these few minutes, but all conversation stopped as Cathalina came in. Graceful and sweet in her white satin, the white veil floating back from where it was caught in a coronet of lace, she was, indeed, their own Cathalina. Betty swallowed a lump and the tears almost came to Hilary’s eyes. “Oh,” said Isabel, “when Captain Van Horne sees you coming down the aisle, he will think it is an angel!”

“Not much of an angel, I’m afraid,” said Cathalina, as she went around and kissed every one. “Come on, everybody,” she said. “I wanted to tell you, and Mother is waiting. Have you my flowers, Father?”

“They have been put in the car, little daughter.”

It seemed only a minute before they were at the church getting ready the little procession which would accompany Cathalina. Philip was best man, and stood at the altar, with Allan Van Horne, wondering how it would seem when he was the groom. He suffered one pang when he thought “what if I haven’t the ring,” but a distinct recollection of putting it in his pocket consoled him. The old minister, too, was waiting, the same minister who had baptized Cathalina and was now to marry her.

Then they came, first, Charlotte Van Buskirk, as flower girl. Betty, as maid of honor; Lilian with Hilary, Eloise with Helen, and Isabel with Nan followed, and the bride on the arm of Philip Senior. Now the hush, the solemn words of the service, and Cathalina Van Horne, with her bridal flowers, walked out of the church on the arm of her husband.

THE END