“Well, then, ask Clarice Tyson to take my place.”
As if shot, the boy sprang from his chair. If Patricia had hurled a bomb at his head, he couldn’t have been much more shocked.
“Nothing doing!” he exclaimed violently.
“Hush! Don’t get so excited. Sit down and listen to me.”
The look of mingled astonishment and disgust on his face was so funny that Patricia almost had to laugh. Just in time, she succeeded in choking back her amusement. This was not a time for mirth; the case required diplomatic handling.
“In the first place, Clarice is perfectly familiar with that dance; and since she is a born dancer, she won’t embarrass you by ignorance and awkwardness.”
“She’ll not have a chance to,” muttered the boy.
“Don’t say that,” pleaded Patricia. “Jack, we’ve been good pals for some time now; can’t you do this for me, if we must put it on a purely personal basis? There is a special reason why I very much want to place Clarice before the public in a new role and under different auspices. Your position in the college is so solid, your reputation so—so irreproachable, that what you do or sponsor meets with the complete approval of the Powers-that-Be.”
“Baloney; but I’m beginning, I think, to see through your scheme.”
“And you will do it?” Eagerly the girl leaned forward and waited for his reply.
“I can’t take her by the hand and just drag her onto the stage with me Saturday night,” objected Jack irritably.
“Of course not. Tell Jane you know a girl who is well able to take my place, and ask if you may substitute her. Jane is so busy and worried over the affair that she’ll be delighted, and probably will ask no questions.”
Jack considered the question gravely, while Patricia watched his face hopefully.
“Will you, Jack?” she begged. “Please say you will.”
“All right,” he agreed gruffly. “I’m not at all keen, I must confess, at appearing so publicly with the celebrated Clarice; but if you say so, it must be done. Probably will cause a tempest in a teapot, but—”
“I’ll take care of that,” cried Patricia joyfully; “and thanks a lot. I’ll do something big for you some day.”
Jack drew from his pocket a small note book and scribbled a few lines on one of its pages.
“What are you doing?” asked Patricia curiously.
“Just making a note of that promise.”
At that moment the clock struck half past ten.
“I must get out of here before I’m put out,” said Jack, getting up and starting for the hall. At the outside door, he paused.
“By the way, Pat, how does Clarice happen to know that dance?”
“I taught it to her this afternoon,” was the startling reply, as Patricia closed the door.
On her way to her own room, she stuck her head into Jane’s.
“Jack knows a girl he can get to sub for me Saturday night,” she said. “Will it be all right?”
Jane jumped up with a sigh of relief. “I’ll say so!” she ejaculated. “Oh, boy! How worried I’ve been at the idea of leaving out that dance!”
“I’m so very sorry to have made all this trouble for everybody,” faltered Patricia, with tears in her eyes; “but I just couldn’t help it.”
“Don’t, dear!” whispered Jane, putting both arms around the girl. “The Gang’s back of you, whatever you do.”
“It’s good of you to say that, especially when I can’t clear myself.”
“Maybe later on something will happen to clear things up for you,” suggested Ruth.
Pat looked at her quickly, wondering if the girl suspected anything; but Ruth, who was placidly combing her hair, smiled at her in the mirror so innocently that her fears were allayed.
“Pat’s shielding some one,” declared Ruth, after Patricia had gone. “We’ll have to find out who it is.”
“Oh, Ruthie,” groaned Jane, distractedly, “don’t suggest my doing anything until after this blamed entertainment is over.”
Ruth said no more, but she made up her mind that Pat must be cleared.
CHAPTER XXII
CLARICE
Rehearsals for the ballet in which Jack and his partner were featured had ended before Patricia was banned; so it was not until Saturday night that Jane discovered who the sub was to be.
“What is she doing here?” whispered the harried director to Frances, who had sufficiently recovered from her annoyance to help with the make-up.
“Who?” inquired Frances, busy laying out grease, paint, and powder.
“Clarice. She’s out there on the stage as large as life. We can’t have any unnecessary people back here.”
Just then Jack approached his partner, and as they practiced a couple of difficult steps together, the awful truth dawned upon Jane. Though usually slow to anger, her temper suddenly flared up at the trick which had been played on her.
“I think that’s just contemptible!” she exclaimed, rapping a brush sharply on the table.
“What on earth is the matter?” inquired Ruth, who had just entered with an armload of costumes.
“For Pat and Jack to have given Clarice a part in the dance without telling me.”
“But,” said Ruth, “you didn’t ask Pat who was to take her place. I wondered at the time.”
“I never dreamed of its being Clarice! I thought it was some friend of Jack’s.”
“I have an idea,” cried Frances. “It isn’t for nothing Pat’s turned over her boy friend to Clarice. It’s my opinion that it is Clarice Pat is shielding.”
“What makes you think that?” asked Ruth.
“I just have a hunch, and I’m going to ferret out the truth.”
“What’s the use of that now?” asked Jane.
“Lots of use; for it would restore Pat to the good graces of—”
“But we couldn’t go out and squeal on someone else,” objected Jane.
“For cats’ sake, girls, stop talking and get busy,” pleaded the harassed director. “We’ll never be ready for the curtain at eight-fifteen.”
It was
