"
'P.S. No. 2.--Dick St. Claire and Fred Raymond are here, and both
send their regards.
'P.S. No. 3.--If you will believe me, Billy Peterkin is here,
nibbling his little cane, and says, "Present my compliments to Miss
Crawford."
'Just think of it. Five, or, rather, four young men--for Tom don't
count--for me to entertain. But I can do it, and rather like it,
too, though they all tire me, except Harold.'
Jerrie read this letter, which was received a few days before
commencement, two or three times, and each time she read it, the little
ache in her heart kept growing larger, until at last it was actual pain,
and covering her face with her hands, she cried like a child.
'It is Maude I am crying for,' she kept saying to herself. 'I know she
is worse than they have told me. She is going to die, and I am mean to
grudge her Harold's love, if that will make her happier. Why does she go
to the cottage so often, I wonder? Is it to see him? He would not like
me to do that. He was chagrined when I kissed him at Harvard. But, then,
he does not love me, and he does Maude; but he _must_ see me graduate.
I'll write and tell him so. That, surely, will not be "throwing myself
at his head;"' and seizing her pen, Jerrie wrote, rapidly and excitedly:
'DEAR HAROLD: I have just heard from Maude, who says there is a
possibility that you will not come to Vassar; but I shall be so
disappointed if you do not.
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