Roses by Leila Meacham Page A

the campus post office, so called because it sat
     on a rise of land a good trek away. Lucy never received mail of her own but insisted on accompanying Mary when she checked
     her box in case there should be news of Percy.
    A horse-drawn cab rattled through the wide wrought-iron gates. “Here be your ride, Miss Mary,” Samuel announced, and thoughts
     of Lucy blew away like the dust beneath the coach’s wheels.
    “Thank goodness!” Mary exclaimed.
    Samuel had loaded her luggage and was about to help her into the two-seater cab when a familiar voice called, “Mary! Mary!
     Samuel, stop that cab!”
    “It’s Miss Lucy,” Samuel said unnecessarily.
    Mary sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
    She watched the petite figure run toward her, holding up the full skirt of her outmoded dress, and felt the nick of annoyance
     followed by the flash of guilt often associated with Lucy Gentry—annoyance because the girl had attached herself like a leech
     since the first day she’d arrived at Bellington Hall, and guilt because she was the only schoolmate besides Amanda who had
     been friendly toward her. Aggravated, she faced the girl. “Why did you choose to go to the post office when you know I have
     a train to catch?”
    “To get this.” Lucy waved an envelope before Mary’s face. “Go ahead and get in. I’m coming with you. Samuel, call Mr. Jacobson
     and have the milk truck swing by the station to pick me up, will you?”
    “Miss Peabody goin’ to have yo’ hide,” Samuel warned.
    “Who gives a damn,” Lucy said, pushing Mary into the coach and gathering her skirts to clamber in behind her.
    With ill grace, Mary made space for her voluminous-skirted roommate. “What is that?” she asked, indicating the envelope.
    Dramatically, Lucy withdrew a folded letter. “What you have here is my acceptance for employment. You are looking at the new
     freshman French teacher at Mary Hardin-Baylor in Belton, Texas.”
    Mary caught her inner lip between her teeth to keep from betraying her chagrin. Secretly, she’d hoped Lucy would not get the
     position. Belton was only a half day’s train ride from Howbutker, and she would become a nuisance. Weekends, while Mary was
     busy restoring order to Somerset and seeing after her mother, Lucy would expect to be put up at Houston Avenue. Mary would
     feel differently if her roommate visited out of fondness for her, but they both knew that was not the case. Lucy suffered
     from a ridiculous, insane crush on Percy, inspired by the one time they had met. Mary was her link to Percy, and Mary Hardin-Baylor
     was a means to Warwick Hall.
    “I don’t understand,” Mary said. “Why do you want the job now that Percy will be leaving for the army? Hasn’t Miss Peabody
     offered you a better-paying position here?”
    “What more convenient place to wait out Percy’s return?” Excitement lit Lucy’s summer blue eyes. “This way, I’ll be close
     to Houston Avenue. I’ll get to see him when the army lets him come home for a few days between the fighting. You
will
have me down, won’t you… when he comes home on leave?” She batted her stiff, straight lashes that followed the circular line
     of her lids like a doll’s.
    The presumption of the girl! Mary thought, struggling to hide her annoyance. What made her think Percy would want to see her?
     “Lucy, the boys are going to France. I doubt very seriously if any of them will be sent home, over the ocean, for a few days’
     leave. They may be gone until the war ends.”
    Lucy thrust out her lower lip and stuffed the letter back into its envelope. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can still come for
     visits and walk down the street to his house and blow kisses that will find their way into his room, his bed…”
    “Oh, Lucy…”
    “Don’t take that moaning tone to me, Mary Toliver. Those are the kinds of things that will bring him back. I
know
they will!” Lucy’s small, dimpled hands clenched, and the porcelain purity of her