The realization of what some of these girls were willing to endure for the sake of getting an education made Grace feel guilty at being so comfortably situated.  She determined that the holidays that year should not find them without friends and cheer.

After a rousing Thanksgiving dinner, in which the inevitable turkey, with all its toothsome accompaniments, played a prominent part, the girls retired to Grace’s room for a final adjustment of hair and a last survey in the mirror before going to the game.  High School matters formed the principal theme of conversation, and Grace was not surprised to learn that Eleanor had been carrying things with a high hand in third-year French class, in which Ellen Holt, one of the Portville girls, recited.

“She speaks French as well as Professor La Roche,” said Miss Holt, “but she nearly drives him crazy sometimes.  She will pretend she doesn’t understand him and will make him explain the construction of a sentence over and over again, or she will argue with him about a point until he loses his temper completely.  She makes perfectly ridiculous caricatures of him, and leaves them on his desk when class is over, and she asks him to translate impertinent slang phrases, which he does, sometimes, before he realizes how they are going to sound.  Then the whole class laughs at him.  She certainly makes things lively in that class.”

The sound of the bell cut short the chat and the four girls hurried downstairs to greet Jessica, Mabel and the girls who were the Bright’s guests.  Nora and Anne, with their charges, came next, and last of all David, Tom and Hippy paraded up the walk, in single file, blowing lustily on tin horns and waving blue and white banners.  A brief season of introduction followed, then Grace distributed blue and white rosettes with long streamers that she had made for the occasion, to each member of the party.  Well supplied with Oakdale colors, they set out for the football grounds, where an immense crowd of people had gathered to see the big game of the season.

“I shall never forget the first football game I saw in Oakdale,” said Anne to David as they made their way to the grandstand.  “It ended very sensationally for me.”

“I should say it did,” replied David, smiling.  “Confidentially, Anne, do you ever hear from your father?”

“Not very often,” replied Anne.  “He is not liable to trouble me again, however, because he knows that I will not go back to the stage, no matter what he says.  He was with the western company of ‘True Hearts’ last year, but I don’t know where he is now, and I don’t care.  Don’t think I’m unfeeling; but it is impossible for me to care for him, even though he is my father.”

“I understand,” said David sympathetically.  “Now let’s forget him and have a good time.”

“Hurrah!  Here comes the band!” shouted Hippy.

The “Oakdale Military Band” took their places in the improvised bandstand and began a short concert before the game with the “Stars and Stripes,” while the spectators unconsciously kept time with their feet to the inspiring strains.