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The Girls of Central High on the Stage by Gertrude W. Morrison
The Girls of Central High on the Stage by Gertrude W. Morrison
The M. O. R. house was alight from cellar to garret. It was the first big reception of the winter and followed closely the end of the first basketball trophy series and the football game between the Central High team and that of West High.
The M. O. R. was the only girls' secret society countenanced by Franklin Sharp, the principal of Central High. Until you belonged to it you never knew what the three initials stood for; after you were lucky enough to belong, the name of the society became such a deep and dark mystery that you never dared whisper it, even to your very closest "spoon."
Therefore, in all probability, we shall never learn just what "M. O. R." stands for.
Among the boys of Central High, their sisters and the other girls belonging to the secret society were spoken of as "Mothers of the Republic." But the boys were only jealous. They were entirely shut out of the doings of the M. O. R.'s, which long antedated the Girls' Branch Athletic League; the boys never were allowed within the sacred precincts of the "House" save on the occasion of the special reception at Easter.
The house was a narrow slice of brownstone front in the middle of a block of similar dwellings, within sight of the schoolhouse, and in the Hill section of Centerport. The Hill was supposed to be very exclusive, and rents were high. And the rental of the thirteen-foot slice of brownstone had become a serious problem to the Board of Governors of the M. O. R.
Some M. O. R.'s had gone to college, many of them had married, some had moved many, many miles away from Centerport. But most of them remembered tenderly the first school society of which they had been members. The alumnae were loyal to M. O. R.
And some of the alumnae were on the present Board of Governors, and were-on this reception night-discussing seriously with the more active members of the board the financial state of the society. The owner of the house had notified them of a raise in rent for the coming year to an absolutely impossible figure. The M. O. R.'s must look for new quarters.
"If we could only interest the pupils of Central High, as a whole, members and those who are not in the M. O. R.," sighed Mrs. Mabel Kerrick.
The presence of this widowed lady, daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Centerport, and an alumna of the school, upon the Board of Governors of the M. O. R. needs an explanation that must be deferred.
"I don't see how we can interest the boys-they only make fun," said a very bright looking girl sitting upon the other side of the room, and beside another very bright looking girl who looked so much like her (they were dressed just alike) that unless one had seen her lips move one could never have told whether Dora Lockwood, or Dorothy Lockwood, had spoken.
"And how are you going to interest the girls who haven't been asked to join the M. O. R.-and are not likely to be asked?" demanded the other twin. "The very exclusiveness of the society makes it impossible for us to call upon the school in general for help."
"Just raise the fees and we can pay the higher rent," remarked another girl, briskly.
"And then, at the end of next year, Mr. Chumley will raise it again. He owns more rentable property than any other man on the Hill, and just as soon as he is sure his tenant is settled he begins to put up the rent on him," observed a fourth girl.
"That is just it," Mrs. Kerrick responded, slowly. "The society should not pay rent. We should own our own house. We should build. We should raise a goodly sum of money this winter toward the building fund. But we must find some method of interesting everybody in our need.
"A membership in the M. O. R. has always been a reward of merit. Freshmen cannot, of course, be 'touched' for the M. O. R., and few sophomores attain that enviable eminence. But by the time a girl has reached her senior year at Central High it is her own fault if she is not a member.
"Therefore, the girls of the younger classes should be interested in the stability of the society, irrespective of whether they are members yet, or not. And naturally, if the girls are interested, they can interest their brothers and their parents."
"Suppose, Mrs. Kerrick, a girl hasn't any brothers?" demurely asked a quiet girl in the corner.
"Very well, then, Nellie Agnew!" said the lady, laughing. "You go and interest some other girl's brother. But we haven't heard from little Mother Wit," added Mrs. Kerrick, turning suddenly to a pretty, plump girl, all in brown and with shining hair and eyes, who sat by herself at the far end of the room. "Haven't you a thing to say, Laura Belding?"
"Won't it be a little difficult," asked the girl addressed, diffidently, "to invent anything that will interest everybody in the building fund of the M. O. R.?"
"That's what we're all saying, Laura," said one of the other members of the Board. "Now you invent something!"
"You give me a hard task," laughed the brown girl. "Of course, all members-both active and graduate-will be interested for their membership's sake. The problem is, then, in addition, to interest, first, the girls who may be members, and, second, the boys and general public who can never be members of the M. O. R."
"Logically put, Laura," urged Mrs. Kerrick. "Then what?"
"Why wouldn't a play fill the bill?" asked Laura. "Offer a prize for an original play written by a girl of Central High, irrespective of class or whether she is an M. O. R. or not-that will interest the girls in general. Have the play presented by boys and girls of the school-that will hold the boys. And the parents and general public can help by paying to see the performance."
The younger members of the committee looked at one another doubtfully; but Mrs. Kerrick clapped her hands enthusiastically.
"A play! The very thing! And Mr. Sharp will approve that, no doubt. We will appoint him chief of the committee to decide upon the play. And we will offer a prize big enough to make it worth while for every girl to try her best to produce a good one."
"But that prize must be deducted from the profits of the performance," objected the practical Nellie Agnew.
"No," replied Mrs. Kerrick, promptly. "That will be my gift. I will offer the prize-two hundred dollars-for the best play submitted before New Year's. How is that? Do you think it will 'take'? Come, Laura, does your inventive genius approve of that suggestion?"
"I think it is very lovely of you, Mrs. Kerrick," cried Mother Wit. "Oh, my! Two hundred dollars! It is magnificent. Let us find Mr. Sharp at once and see if he approves. He is still in the house, I know," and at her suggestion somebody was sent to hunt for the principal of Central High, who was one of the guests of honor of the M. O. R. on this particular evening.
Centerport was a lively, wealthy inland city situated on the shore of Lake Luna, and boasting three high schools within its precincts. The new building of Central High was much finer and larger than the East and West Highs, and there was considerable rivalry between the girls of the three schools, not only in athletic matters, but in all other affairs. Out of school hours, basketball and other athletics had pretty well filled the minds of the girls of Central High; and Laura Belding and her particular chums had been as active in these inter-school athletics as any.
In fact, it was Mother Wit, as her friends and schoolmates called Laura, who interested Colonel Richard Swayne, Mrs. Kerrick's father, in the matter of girls' athletics and so made possible for the girls of Central High the finest athletic field and gymnasium in the State.
Incidentally she had interested Mrs. Kerrick in the girls of Central High, too, and reminded the widowed lady that she was an alumna and a member of the M. O. R. In her renewed interest in the affairs of the secret society and in the Girls' Branch Athletic League, Mrs. Kerrick had become very different from the almost helpless invalid first introduced to the reader in the first volume of this series, entitled "The Girls of Central High; Or, Rivals for All Honors."
In that first volume was related the establishment of athletics for girls at Central High, and introduced Laura Belding and her especial chums in their school trials and triumphs. In the second volume, "The Girls of Central High on Lake Luna; Or, The Crew That Won," were narrated the summer aquatic sports of the same group of girls and their boy friends.
"The Girls of Central High at Basketball; Or, The Great Gymnasium Mystery," the third volume of the series, told of the girls when they had become juniors and related the struggle of the rival basketball teams of the three Centerport highs, and the high schools of Keyport and Lumberport, at either end of Lake Luna, for the trophy cup. That series of games had just been finished and Central High had won the trophy, when Laura and her friends, as members of the M. O. R., are again introduced to the reader's notice at the opening of this chapter.
The Girls of Central High Aiding the Red Cross by Gertrude W. Morrison
Once, Sabrina trusted the wrong man and paid for it with her life, dragging down the only person who ever tried to help her. Fate offered her a rare reset, and this time, she pledged herself to Theo-the savior she had overlooked before. A partnership for convenience blossomed into something fierce, with Theo showing her tenderness she never expected. Revenge became her mission while he quietly shielded her. When their pact neared its end, Theo blocked her exit, whispering, "You're leaving me?" She faltered. "Maybe one more year." Yet soon, a baby was on the way. What the hell? That wasn't the deal!
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...
One year into marriage, Yvonne realized she was nothing more than a substitute for someone else's memory. When his true love reappeared, Julian tossed a divorce contract her way. "She's back. We're finished," he said flatly. The secret of her pregnancy stayed hidden. Yvonne fought the urge to cry, signed her freedom, and disappeared. Five years on, cameras flashed as Yvonne, radiant in red, strode across a film festival stage with her bright-eyed son. Julian's hands clenched as he watched. "Sir, the boy's four and a half," whispered his shaken assistant. Then, he rushed to the film set only to witness an A-list actor gently wrapping his arm around Yvonne's waist. "I've booked your favorite restaurant for tonight's celebration." The little boy blinked his innocent eyes at Julian, asking, "Who are you? One of my mom's crazy admirers?" He cornered her in the dressing room, his voice hoarse as he said, "Let's remarry." Her lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "The curtain's down; it's time to end this scene." But this time, he wasn't letting go.
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child. Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby. To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner. They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his. The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused. But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn.
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