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diff --git a/25893-8.txt b/25893-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f9c899 --- /dev/null +++ b/25893-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7149 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Beatrice Leigh at College, by Julia Augusta +Schwartz, Illustrated by Eva M. Nagel + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Beatrice Leigh at College + A Story for Girls + + +Author: Julia Augusta Schwartz + + + +Release Date: June 24, 2008 [eBook #25893] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEATRICE LEIGH AT COLLEGE*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 25893-h.htm or 25893-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/9/25893/25893-h/25893-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/9/25893/25893-h.zip) + + + + + +BEATRICE LEIGH AT COLLEGE + +A Story for Girls + +by + +JULIA A. SCHWARTZ + + * * * * * * + +A SONG-CALENDAR +BY A. L. C. + + +I + +"When blood of autumn + Runs warm and red +In all the branches + Over head-- +Sing clear bright sunshine, + And tender haze, +Sing glad beginning + Of College Days! + + +II + +"When pines and spruces + Are bowed with snow, +When ponds are frozen + And keen winds blow-- +Sing cozy corners + Or jingling sleighs, +Sing work or frolic + Of College Days! + + +III + +"When comes sweet April, + With soft slow rain, +And earth has broken + Her frozen chain-- +Sing low shy birdnotes, + And woodland ways, +Sing mirth and music + Of College Days! + + +IV + +"When June days linger, + And warm winds blow +O'er fields of daisies + Adrift like snow-- +Sing sad leave-takings + And tender praise +Of all the mem'ries + Of College Days!" + + --Vassarion, '95. + + * * * * * * + + Cordial acknowledgment is due to the editors of the _Youth's + Companion_ for their courteous permission to reprint in the following + chapters of college life the episodes entitled respectively "Wanted: + a Friend," and "Her Freshman Valentine." + + * * * * * * + + +BEATRICE LEIGH AT COLLEGE + +A Story for Girls + +by + +JULIA A. SCHWARTZ + +Author of +"Elinor's College Career" etc. + +Illustrated by Eva M. Nagel + + + + + + + +[Illustration: SHE HID HER FACE AGAINST MARTHA'S DRESS] + + + +The Penn Publishing Company +Philadelphia MCMVII + +Copyright 1907 by the Penn Publishing Company + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + I Bea's Roommate 9 + II Enter Robbie Belle 35 + III A Question of Economy 59 + IV Her Freshman Valentines 81 + V The Giftie Gie Us 92 + VI A Wave of Reform 115 + VII Four Sophomores and a Dog 145 + VIII Classes in Manners 172 + IX This Vain Show 198 + X Consequences 214 + XI A Girl to Have Friends 231 + XII An Original in Math 255 + XIII Just This Once 283 + XIV Classmates 299 + XV Victory 321 + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE +SHE HID HER FACE AGAINST MARTHA'S DRESS Frontispiece +Lila Stood Staring Out at the Snow 28 +"Anything New?" 73 +"Oh, Thank You; I Don't Want Anything to Eat" 96 +We Handed Over Five Dollars Apiece 201 +She Waved an Open Letter In Her Hand 276 +She Held Both Hands, Smiling 301 + + + + + + +BEATRICE LEIGH AT COLLEGE + +CHAPTER I + +BEA'S ROOMMATE + + +Lila Allan went to college in the hope of finding an intimate friend at +last. Her mother at home waited anxiously for her earliest letters, and +devoured them in eager haste to discover some hint of success in the +search; for being a wise woman she knew her own daughter, and understood +the difficulty as well as the necessity of the case. + +The first letter was written on the day of arrival. It contained a +frantic appeal for enough money to buy her ticket home immediately, +because she had a lonesome room away up in the north tower, and nobody +had spoken to her all the afternoon, and her trunk had not come yet, and +she did not know where the dining-room was, and the corridors were full +of packing-boxes with lids scattered around, and girls were hurrying to +and fro with step-ladders and kissing each other and running to hug each +other, and everything. + +The second letter, written the following day, said that a freshman named +Beatrice Leigh had come up to help her unpack. Beatrice had a long braid +too, and her hair was the loveliest auburn and curled around her face, +and she laughed a good deal. Lila had noticed her the very first evening. +She was sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the big +dining-room. When Lila saw her, she was giggling with her head bent down +and her napkin over her eyes, while the other girls at that table smiled +amused smiles. Lila knew instantly that this poor freshman had done +something dreadful, and she was sorry for her. Later that same evening in +Miss Merriam's room she told how she had marched in to dinner alone and +plumped down at that table among all those seniors. She seemed to +consider it a joke, but Lila was sure she had been almost mortified to +death when she learned of her mistake, and that was why she had laughed +so hard. Several other freshmen were at Miss Merriam's. Two of them were +named Roberta, and one was named Gertrude something. But Lila liked +Beatrice best. Miss Merriam called her Bea. Miss Merriam was a junior who +had invited in all the students at that end of the corridor to drink +chocolate. Lila did not care for her much, because she had a loud voice +and tipped back in her chair and said yep for yes. + +The third missive was only a postal card bearing a properly telegraphic +communication to the effect that it was Saturday morning, and Bea was +waiting to escort her to the chapel to hear read the lists of freshman +names assigned to each recitation section. Mrs. Allan scanned the message +with a quick throb of pleasure; then sighed as she laid it down. The +indications were hopeful enough if only Lila would be careful not to +drive away this friend as she had the others. + +Meanwhile on that Saturday morning Bea and Lila, silent and shy, had +crowded with their two hundred classmates into chapel. The two friends +sat side by side. Lila was in terror of making some horrible blunder that +might overwhelm her with a vast indefinite disgrace. She leaned forward +in the pew, the pencil trembling between her fingers, the blood pounding +in her ears, while from the platform in front a cool voice read on evenly +through page after page of names. And then at last the tragic despair of +finding that she had jotted down herself for two sections in English and +none in Latin! When she managed to gasp out the awful situation in Bea's +ear, that young person looked worried for full half a minute. It was a +very serious thing to be a freshman. Then her cheery common sense came to +the rescue. + +"Never mind. We'll go up and look the lists over after she has finished +them all." + +"Oh, can we? Will you truly go with me?" Lila drew a quick breath of +relief and gratitude. This was one of the precious privileges of having +found a friend. She gazed at Bea with such an adorable half-wistful, +half-joyful smile on her delicate face that Bea never quite forgot the +sensation of realizing that it was meant wholly for her. The memory of it +returned again and again in later days when Lila's exacting ways seemed +beyond endurance. For Lila's nature was one of those that give all and +demand all and suffer in a myriad mysterious ways. + +On the afternoon of that Saturday when Bea skipped up the narrow tower +stairs to invite Lila to go to the orchard to gather a scrapbasket full +of apples, she discovered the door locked. In answer to her lively +rat-tattoo and gay call over the transom, she heard the key turn. + +Bea started to dash in; then after one glance stopped and fumbled +uneasily with the knob. In her happy-go-lucky childhood with many +brothers and sisters at home, tears had always an embarrassing effect. + +"Let's--let's go to the orchard," she stammered. "It's lovely, and the +fresh air will help your--your headache." She had a boyish notion that +anybody would prefer to excuse heavy eyes by calling it headache rather +than tears. + +Lila pointed to the bed which was half made up. + +"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded in agonized reproach. "I thought +the maids attended to the beds here. I left the mattress turned over the +foot all day long, and the door was wide open. Everybody in the +neighborhood must have looked in and then decided that I was lazy and +shiftless. They believe that I have been brought up to let things go +undone like that. They do, they do! Miss Merriam just the same as said +so. She poked in her head a minute ago and said, 'Heigho, little one, +time to make up your bed. It has aired long enough and the maid is not +expected to do it.' She said that to me! Oh, I hate her!" Lila caught her +breath hard. + +Bea opened her candid eyes wider in astonished curiosity. "But didn't you +want to know about the maid?" + +"She mortified me. Do you know how it feels to be mortified? The--the +awfulness--" Lila stopped and swallowed once or twice as if something +stuck in her throat. "She might have told me in a different manner so as +not to wound me so heartlessly. She isn't a lady." + +"Please." Bea twirled the door-knob in worried protest. "Don't talk that +way. She is my friend. We live in the same town. She's nice, really. +You've only seen the outside. Please!" + +"Oh, well!" Lila raised her shoulders slightly. "She isn't worth +noticing, I dare say. Such people never are. I can't help wishing that +you were not acquainted with her. I want you all to myself. I'm glad she +belongs to another class anyhow." + +Into Bea's puzzled face crept a troubled expression. "You're a funny +girl, Lila," she said; "let's go to the orchard." + +On their way across the campus, they passed countless girls hurrying from +building to building. Every doorway seemed to blossom with a chattering +group, a loitering pair, or an energetic single lady on pressing business +bent. Bea met every glance with a look of bright friendliness in her +eager eyes and lips ready to smile, no matter whether she had ever been +introduced or not. But Lila's wild-flower face, in spite of its lovely +tints and outlines, seemed almost icy in its expression of haughty +criticism. No wonder, then, that this miniature world of college +reflected a different countenance to each. + +"Aren't they the dearest, sweetest girls you ever saw!" exclaimed Bea as +the two freshmen turned from the curving concrete walk into the road that +led to the orchard. + +"I saw only one who was truly beautiful," commented her companion. "I +expected to find them prettier." + +"Oh, but they are so interesting," protested Bea in quick loyalty. +"Nearly everybody appears prettier after you get acquainted. I've noticed +that myself. It is better to dawn than to dazzle, don't you think? Sue +Merriam, for instance, improves and grows nicer and nicer after you know +her. You will learn to love her dearly." + +"Never!" + +At the tone Bea gave an involuntary whistle; then checked herself at +sight of Lila's quivering lips. "Oh, well, don't bother. Let's go on to +the orchard. Look! There comes Roberta Abbott with about a bushel of +russets. She is a funny girl too. To judge from her appearance, you would +say she was sad and dignified. She has the most tragic dark eyes and +mouth. But just wait till you hear her talk. Didn't you meet her last +night at Sue's?" + +"Yes." Lila turned away to hide the flicker of jealousy, for she had +learned long since how transparently every emotion showed in her +features. "I think we ought not to waste any time now. And anyway I'd +rather get acquainted with you all alone this afternoon." + +Bea stared. "You're the funniest girl!" She walked on after waving a +sociable hand at Roberta. "It is interesting to have friends that are +different, don't you think?" + +"To have one friend who is different," corrected Lila. + +"All right," laughed Bea. "Oh, see what a gorgeous glorious place this +is, with the trees and scarlet woodbine and the lake sparkling away over +there, and girls, girls, girls! But I don't believe that there is a +single other one exactly like you." + +During the next week this thought recurred to her more than once. By +means of some diplomatic maneuvering, the two friends managed to have +their single rooms exchanged for a double. After moving in, Lila seized a +moment of solitude to plan a beautiful cozy corner for Bea. She dragged +her own desk into a dusky recess and set Bea's at an artistic angle at +the left side of the sunniest window. Just as she was hanging her +favorite picture above it, Bea came rushing in with her arms full of new +books. + +"Oh, no, no, no!" she exclaimed impulsively, "that won't do at all. You +must put it at the right so that the light will fall over the left +shoulder. Otherwise the shadow of your hand will go scrambling over the +paper ahead of your pen. Here, let me show you." + +By the time she had hauled the desk across to its new position, Lila had +vanished. Bea found her huddled in a woe-begone heap behind the wardrobe +door in her bedroom, and flew to her in dismay. + +"Oh, Lila, dearie, did you smash your finger or drop something on your +foot? There, don't cry. I'll get the witch-hazel and arnica and +court-plaster. What is it? Where? Why-ee!" she gasped bewildered, "why, +Lila!" for her weeping roommate had pushed her gently away and turned her +face to the wall. + +"I was doing it for you," she sobbed. "I was trying to please you, and +then you were so cr-cr-cruel! You were cruel." + +"Cruel?" echoed Bea, "why, how? I haven't done a thing except buy the +books I ordered last week. Yours were down in the office, too, but I +didn't have enough money for all, because Sue Merriam borrowed four +dollars. She asked after you and said----" Bea hesitated, smitten with +novel doubt that she ought to begin to think three times before speaking +once where such a sensitive person was concerned. + +Lila sat up in swift attention and winked away her tears. "Said what?" + +"Oh, nothing much." Bea wriggled. "Just talking." + +"I insist." + +"Oh, well, it doesn't signify. I was only thinking----" Bea paused again +before blurting out. "She said that roommates are good for the +character." + +At this Lila rose with such an air of patient endurance that poor Bea +felt clumsy, remorseful, injured and perplexed simultaneously. A cloud of +resentful silence hovered over them both through the weary hours of the +afternoon. Not until the ten o'clock gong sent the echoes booming through +the deserted corridors, did Lila break down in a storm of weeping that +terrified Bea. She found herself begging pardon, apologizing, caressing, +explaining and repenting wholesale of rudeness about the desk, of selfish +neglect in the case of the books, of disloyalty in giving ear to Miss +Merriam's gratuitous comments. This gale blew over, leaving one girl with +darker circles under her eyes and a more pathetic droop at the corners of +her mouth, leaving the other with a fellow feeling for any unfortunate +bull who happens to get into a china shop, intentionally or otherwise. +Life at college promised to be like walking over exceedingly thin ice +every day and all day long. + +And yet, after she had learned to make allowances for the +oversensitiveness, Bea found Lila more lovable and winning week by week. +She was philosopher enough to recognize the fact that every one has the +"defects of his qualities." The very quality that sent Lila hurrying +up-stairs in an agony of mortification because a senior had forgotten to +bow to her, was the one that inclined her to enter into Bea's varying +moods with exquisite responsiveness. It was delightful to have a friend +who was ever ready to answer gayety with gayety and sober thoughts with +sympathy. Indeed, when Lila was not wrapped up in her own suffering, she +could not be surpassed in the priceless gift of sympathy. For the sake of +that, much might be forgiven. + +Much but not everything. Just before the midyear examinations came a +crisis in the growth of their friendship. One afternoon Lila reached the +head of the stairs barely in time to make a sudden swerve out of Miss +Merriam's breezy path. + +"Heigho, Eliza Allan," she called in careless teasing, "why don't you +spell your name the way it is in the catalogue? More dignified, I think. +By the way, I've been into your room and left some burned cork for your +chapter play. We had more than we needed last night. By-bye." + +Lila walked on in frosty silence. By-bye, indeed! And to address her as +Eliza, too, on this very afternoon when she had as much as she could bear +anyhow. To hear her essay read aloud and criticised before the class, and +then to have it handed to her across the desk, so that anybody could see +the awful REWRITE in red ink scrawled on the outside! To be sure, all the +essays had been distributed at the same time, and nobody knew for sure +that hers had been the one read aloud. Still they might have seen the +name on it or noticed how red and pale she turned, or something. And +worse still, the examinations were coming soon, and she was sure she +would fail. If it were not for leaving Bea, she would go home that night. +She certainly would! + +As she entered, Bea looked up brightly from the cardboard which she was +cutting into squares. + +"Here you are!" she exclaimed in cheery greeting, though her eyes had +shadowed instantly at sight of the unhappy drooping of every line. "Sue +Merriam has been in to show me how to make you up for the play next +month. It takes quite an artistic touch to darken the brows and touch up +the lashes. Catch these corks and put them away. They're messing up my +dinner-cards." + +Lila's shoulders quivered as if pricked by a spur even while she +mechanically caught the bits of black and fumbled them in her fingers. + +"She meant that my brows are too thin and my lashes too light. I would +thank her to keep her criticism until it is called for." + +For half a minute Bea kept her head down while her chest heaved over a +sigh of weary anticipation. Then she turned with an affectionate query: +"What has happened now, Lila? Tell me, dear." + +Upon hearing about the affair of the essay, she expostulated consolingly, +"Of course that is no disgrace. She is severe with all the girls, tears +their essays into strips and empties the red ink over them. She doesn't +mean it personally, you know. How can we learn anything if nobody +corrects our mistakes? Anyway it was an honor to have it read aloud. Very +likely the girls did not see the REWRITE. She never bothers much with the +utterly hopeless papers. Come, cheer up! The red ink was a compliment." + +"Do you really think so?" Lila smiled a little doubtfully. "It sounds +like one of the sophists--'to make the worse appear the better reason.' +I'd love to believe it, and you are sweet to me." She laid one arm +caressingly across Bea's shoulders. "It is queer that I don't mind more +when you scold me so outrageously." + +"Scold you?" repeated the other in amazement at such a description of her +soothing speech. + +Lila nodded. "I never stood it from anybody else. Maybe it is because you +are my special dearest friend. That is why I came to college, you know. +At home the girls disappointed me. There were several in the high school +who might have been my friends if they had been different from what they +were. Ena Brownell and I were inseparable for weeks till one morning she +went off with another girl instead of waiting for me on the corner, +though I had telephoned that I would meet her there. Even if I was a few +minutes late, she would have waited if she had really cared. I cried +myself to sleep every night for a long time but I never forgave her." + +"Um-m-m," muttered Bea, her head again bent over the cardboard, "how +horrid! See, isn't this a lovely daisy I'm drawing? They're to be dinner +cards for my next spread. This is for your place." + +"It's sweet. I think you are the most talented girl in the class." Lila +stooped for a hug but carefully so as not to interfere with the growth of +the silvery petals. "There was another girl, and her name was Daisy. She +seemed perfect till I discovered that she prized her own vanity more +highly than my happiness. She refused to take gym work the third hour +when I was obliged to have it. She said the shower bath spoiled the wave +in her hair, and so she chose the sixth hour class. Yet she knew very +well that I had Latin at that period. I don't care for that selfish kind +of friendship, do you?" + +"Um-m, no!" Bea's brush dropped an impatient splash of yellow in the +heart of the flower. Then she glanced up with a penitent smile. + +"You're so awfully loyal yourself, Lila," she said. "You try to measure +everybody up to that standard. I shan't forget that day in hygiene when +you declined to answer the question that floored me. It was like that +poem about the girl who wouldn't spell a word that the boy had missed, +because she hated to go above him. And at the tennis tournament you +wouldn't leave till I had finished the match, though you shivered and +shook in the frosty October air. You do a lot for me, and I am downright +ashamed sometimes. See, behold the completed posy!" + +"It is too pretty for a mere dinner card." Lila dropped into a rattan +chair and idly tossed the corks from hand to hand. "Aren't you planning a +long time ahead? Your family knows exactly what to send in a box. That +last was the most delicious thing! I suppose we'll just ask our crowd of +freshmen, Berta and Gertrude and the rest." + +Lila's eyes were so intent upon the dancing corks that she failed to note +the swift glance which Bea darted in her direction. + +"Um-m-m," she said cautiously, "I think I might like an upper class girl +or two. Some of them have been awfully kind to me this year. Sue Merriam +escorted me to the first Hall Play, and she proposed our names for Alpha, +and on her birthday she asked me to sit at her table and meet some +seniors as an invited guest. She said the "invited" with such a thump on +it that my heart almost broke. Isn't she the greatest tease?" + +No answer. + +"It was mostly due to her that I came to college," continued Bea with an +effort to speak naturally though her fingers shook the least bit in their +grasp of the brush, and one anxious eye was watching Lila's face. "I've +known her all my life. She persuaded the family to send me, and she +tutored me last summer and helped in a million different ways. You don't +understand how much I owe her. It is such a little thing to invite her to +my--to our party. I'd love to do it, Lila." + +Still no answer. The silence lengthened out minute after minute. Finally +Bea ventured to raise her head and hold up another card for inspection. +"See, a new daisy, but this one has a different disposition. Do you +observe the expression--sort of grinning and cheerful? This is like Sue, +while the first one is like you, an earnest young person, not one bit +impudent. See it, lady. The dearest flower-face. I love it." + +"And yet"--Lila's voice sounded choked, "you want to invite her to the +party. You know it will spoil my pleasure. You--know--I--hate--her." + +Bea's frame trembled once in a nervous shiver. Her fascinated eyes +followed Lila to the window, where she stood staring out at the dazzling +winter world of snow. + +"You must choose between Susan Merriam and me. I have a right to demand +it. I have a right. I have a right." + +Bea saw Lila lift her arm as if to brush away the tears. Then one hand +fumbled for her handkerchief, while the other squeezed the burned corks +with unconscious force. She was certainly wiping her eyes. + +"You must--you must--choose to-day--between Susan Merriam and me. If you +choose her, I shall never speak to you again. If you choose me, you must +have nothing to do with her. Nothing! You must drop her acquaintance. You +cannot have both." + +Bea suddenly tipped back in her chair, teetered to and fro for a frantic +moment, then brought it down with a bump on all four feet. + +"Nonsense!" she snapped. + +Lila stood motionless so long that Bea had time to notice the ticking of +her watch. Then she turned slowly around from the window. + +"And this is friendsh----" + +[Illustration: LILA STOOD STARING OUT AT THE SNOW] + +"Oh!" squealed Bea, "oh, oh, oh! Ha, ha, ha!" Flinging her arms out +over the desk she buried her face upon them and shook with +uncontrollable laughter. + +Lila crimsoned to her hair, then went white with anger. Without a word +she walked into her own room and locked the door. + +Half an hour later when she rose from the bed and began to pour out a +basinful of water to bathe her smarting eyes, she heard a rustle on the +threshold. Glancing quickly around she saw a square of white paper being +thrust beneath the door. It was a letter from home on the five o'clock +mail. Lila picked it up and opened it listlessly. The fit of weeping had +left her exhausted. + + +"My darling daughter," she read, + +"This is a hasty note to say that your great aunt Sarah is on her way +east, and will stop at the college for a day's visit with you. I wish to +caution you, dear girl, against even the semblance of a slight in your +treatment of her. Do not forget to inquire after Gyp the terrier, Rex the +angora cat, Dandy the parrot, and Ellen the maid. Your aunt is +exceedingly sensitive about such small attentions. You might invite your +friends to meet her at afternoon tea, and if you can manage it tactfully +you might warn them not to discuss topics with which she is unacquainted. +She has, as you know, a very peculiar disposition. The least suspicion of +neglect or hint of criticism exasperates her beyond endurance. In her +childhood she suffered continually because of this oversensitive nature. +I suspect that she made no effort to conquer the fault. Indeed so far as +I may judge from her present attitude, she has always considered it a +proof of superior delicacy and refinement. She has cherished her +selfishness instead of fighting it. As a consequence her life has been +embittered and unspeakably lonely. I believe that she has not a friend on +earth except her pets, and even Gyp has learned not to frisk with joy at +sight of anybody but his mistress. + +"I am sure I may trust you, dear, to make her visit as happy as possible, +although in truth it seems irony to speak of real happiness in connection +with such a temperament. You may not be aware that even your Aunt Sarah +was once the heroine of a romance. He was an extraordinarily fine man, and +she would have found happiness with him, if with anybody. But one day in +the rush of an important law-suit, he forgot to keep an engagement with +her, and she never forgave the slight. After that disappointment--and it +was a grievous disappointment, however self-inflicted--especially grievous +to such an expert in self-torture--her nature grew rapidly and steadily +more self-absorbed and unlovely. + +"My darling little daughter, sometimes I have feared that you may have +inherited a similar tendency. It has been difficult, dearest, to guide +aright where even the slightest word of criticism stings and burns and +lashes. You, more than many girls, need the discipline of wisest, +frankest friendship with others of your own age. I see that during your +high school days I did wrong in trying to supply their place to you with +my own companionship. A child, however precious, cannot be forever kept +wrapped in cotton-wool. + +"So, dearest daughter, you will understand how joyful I am this year in +hearing of your new friends. Don't let them slip away through any fault +of yours. Whatever is worth winning is worth keeping, even at the cost of +many a sacrifice of foolish pride. + +"When you see your aunt, be sure to remember me to her. + + "With a heart full of love, + "Mother." + + +Lila read the letter, replaced it in the envelope, and walking across the +little room threw herself again face downward on the bed. After a while +the dressing-gong whirred its tidings through the corridors. Lila slid to +her feet and began to walk mechanically toward the mirror. + +"But Bea laughed. She laughed at me. Mother doesn't know that Bea +laughed. And I thought she was my friend." Lila felt another sob come +tearing up toward her throat and clenched her teeth in the struggle to +choke it back. Blinded by a rush of fresh tears, she opened the top +drawer of the bureau and felt for her brush with groping fingers. + +"She laughed right in my face. I--I--could have forgiven everything +else. But--but mother doesn't know that Bea in-insulted me. +She--laughed--right--in--my----" + +Then through the blur Lila happened to catch sight of her reflection in +the looking-glass. The last sob broke off sheer in the middle, and left +her with her lips still parted in an unfinished quiver. + +The horrified face that stared back at her from the mirror was striped +and rayed with startling streaks of black. The astonished eyes shone out +from white circles framed in ebony sunbursts; the nose was like an islet +washed by jetty waves; the mouth slowly widened under a fiercely upcurved +line of inky hue. + +In the study on the other side of the door, remorseful Bea was wearing +several paths in their best rug, as she waited for some sign. Suddenly a +new sound welled up and she bent her head to listen, in quick dread of +another storm of weeping. But, no! This was different. It was not a sob, +though it did seem rather gaspy. It bubbled and chuckled. It was +laughter. + +"Lila!" cried Bea, and made a dash toward the room. Lila flung open the +door. + +"Bea!" she answered, "I am going to give a tea for my Aunt Sarah. Do you +think Sue Merriam will come if I invite her?" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ENTER ROBBIE BELLE + + +Now it happened one evening in the early fall, while Bea and Lila were +learning to live together, that the Students' Association held a meeting +to appoint corridor wardens for the year. + +In the throng that came pouring out of chapel afterward, Bea, who had an +eel-like rapidity in gliding through crowds, found herself at the doors +some yards in advance of Lila. Halting to wait in the vestibule, she +overheard a junior instructing a new freshman officer in her duties. + +"It is very simple. Oh, no, Miss Sanders, no, indeed! There is nothing +meddlesome about it. You're not expected to spy upon the girls in your +neighborhood. The aim is merely to preserve a certain degree of quiet. +Girls are often thoughtless about being noisy in the corridors. Simply +remind them now and then in flagrant cases that they are disturbing those +who wish to study. Of course you must be tactful, though it is rarely +that a student wilfully disregards the rights of others." + +Bea peered around the edge of her particular door in order to catch a +glimpse of this freshman so distinguished. It was the tall, fair-faced +child with the splendid long braid, who lived at the end of Berta's +transverse. Now the sweet mouth was drooping disconsolately, and the big +eyes looked dewy with anxious tears. + +"I--I don't think I'd like to," she said. + +"Oh, but it is something that must be done, and you have been selected as +the one in that vicinity who strikes us as best fitted for the duties of +the position. It is really, you know, a case of public service. Every one +at some time or other ought to be willing to make sacrifices of personal +desires for the good of the community, don't you think? But forgive me +for preaching. I didn't mean to. By the way, how do you like college, +Miss Sanders?" + +"It isn't so much fun as I had expected," said she. Bea's head popped +around the door again. The junior was smiling with an air of amused +superiority. + +"Ah, yes, I understand. Probably you used to have a sister or cousin at +college, and from her letters you supposed that the life was composed +chiefly of dancing, fudges and basket-ball with a little work sandwiched +in between. Is it not so? And now----" + +"I don't mind the work," here Bea's head popped out a third time to +contemplate this interesting classmate, "but----" + +"Beatrice," called Lila at her other ear, "Berta says to hurry or we'll +miss the best of the fun. It's to be a sheet-and-pillow-case party +to-morrow, and a lot of the girls are coming in to learn how to do the +draping. Berta has an idea. Come along quick!" + +Robbie Belle Sanders stared after them wistfully. "Those girls live near +me," she said, "they have fun all the time." + +The junior's keen glance spied in the open countenance something that +kept her lingering a moment longer. "This is a democratic place," she +said in a more sympathetic tone, "every girl finds her own level sooner +or later. The basis is not money or social rank of the families at home. +It is not brains or clothes or stuff like that. It is simply that the +same kind of girls drift together. They're congenial. It seems to be a +law. A general law, you understand. Of course," she hesitated for an +instant before being spurred on by her sense of scrupulous honesty, +"there are exceptions. Once in a while a girl fails to find her special +niche. Maybe she rooms off the campus and is not thrown in contact with +her own kind. She may be abnormally shy--that hinders her from making +friends. Or perhaps she does something that queers herself first thing." + +"Queers herself?" echoed Robbie Belle, "how does a person queer herself?" + +"Oh, I don't know." She paused to reflect. "She does outlandish things. +And still it isn't what she does so much as what she is. Her acts express +her character. If her character is queer, she behaves queerly, and the +others fight shy of her. After all, I dare say she does find her own +level, and there is nobody else there. So she goes along solitary through +the four years." + +Robbie Belle looked frightened. "I wish I knew what things are queer," +she said. + +"Oh, being different from the other girls, for instance, awfully +different, so different that everybody notices it. Not just original, you +know, but actually queer. Watch the girls, particularly those who always +go around alone, and you'll learn. Good-night, Miss Sanders. I must +congratulate you again on the honor of being appointed freshman warden. +Good-night." + +Robbie Belle walked slowly down the corridor to her room. "I wonder if I +am queer," she thought. "I am almost always alone." She halted before a +door that displayed a small square of white paper pinned in the middle of +its upper half. Robbie Belle, her hand on the knob, regarded the sign +hopelessly. "If you have a roommate who never takes down her ENGAGED, and +she doesn't like company and she won't go anywhere with you herself, +maybe you can't help being queer." + +Robbie Belle entered softly. It was a large room and seemed quite bare +because of the absence of curtains, rugs, and cushions. The unsociable +roommate was sitting beside the centre table, her elbows propped on its +shiny surface that was innocent of any cover and ignorant of the duster. +A green shade over her eyes connected a blur of nondescript hair with a +rather long nose beneath which a pair of pale lips in the glow of the +drop-light was rapidly gabbling over some lines in Greek scansion. + +Without looking up, she waved one hand forbiddingly; and Robbie Belle +obediently shut her mouth over the few words that were ready to be +uttered in greeting. She stood waiting in her tracks, so to speak, until +the final hexameter had wailed out its drawling length, and Miss Cutter +pushed back the green shade. + +"Well," she demanded, "what was the important business before the +meeting? I could not spare valuable time for self-government foolishness +to-night." + +"They appointed corridor wardens," answered Robbie Belle. + +"Oh, indeed! It is certainly time, I must say. In theory it is all very +well to make the rules a matter of honor, but when you happen to live in +a nest of girls who behave as if they were six years old, I insist that +something more forcible than chapel admonitions is required. Who is the +warden for this neighborhood?" + +"I am," said Robbie Belle. + +"You are!" Miss Cutter pushed the green shade farther up on her high +forehead. "Well, I must say!" She surveyed her roommate with new +interest. "How exceedingly extraordinary!" + +Robbie shifted her weight to the other foot. "I didn't want to be," she +said. + +"No, of course not, and you nothing but a child yourself. It must be your +height and that grave way you have of staring. With that baby-face, +couldn't they see that your dignity is all on the outside?" + +Robbie said nothing, but if Miss Cutter had not been quite so +near-sighted she might have spied deep in the violet eyes a glint of +black remotely resembling anger. + +"Think of appealing to a sixteen-year-old infant--really you are +literally in-fans, which is to say, one without the power of speech! +Fancy me applying to you to compel quiet in the halls! Imagine that +boisterous crowd trailing after Miss Abbott and Miss Leigh et al.--Hist!" +She lifted her head like a warhorse sniffing battle near. "There they are +now." + +Robbie Belle lifted her head too and listened, although indeed the noise +would have penetrated to the most inattentive ears. A multitude of feet +were marching lock-step past the door to a chorus of giggling, stifled +squeals and groans, while at intervals a voice choking with emotion rose +in shrill accents: "There was an old woman all skin and bones, o-o-oh!" +When it faltered and collapsed on the o-o-oh, the other voices joined in +and dragged out the syllable to lugubrious and harrowing length. Then +some one giggled hysterically and another squealed. The soloist took up +the verse: "She went to the church to pray, o-o-oh!" The chorus wailed +and moaned and croaked and whimpered and groaned in concert. Miss Cutter +regarded Robbie Belle sternly. + +Robbie Belle's shoulders rose and fell over a deep breath. She stepped +across to the door and closed the transom softly just as the next weird +line hissed out above the tumult and then sank into its smothering welter +and moan of vowels. Robbie spoke more loudly. + +"One of them said that they were going to dress up in sheets and +pillow-cases to-night. They are practicing for the Hallowe'en party. It's +only fun." + +Berta's voice--it was Berta who did the solo--here rose in a quavering +shriek that halted not for keys in their holes or transoms in their +sockets: "The worms crawled in and the worms crawled out, o-o-o-oh!" + +Miss Cutter rose to her indignant feet. "Roberta Sanders, as you are the +corridor warden for this neighborhood, I appeal to you. I make formal +complaint----" + +"They've gone." Robbie Belle smiled in relief and sat down rather +quickly. The lock-step had receded into the muffled distance and the +ear-splitting wail wafted back in tones that grew steadily fainter. + +Miss Cutter took off her glasses, rubbed them bright, put them on again, +and contemplated Robbie Belle. + +"I do believe that you would rather I suffered than that they became +offended with you. You are afraid to rebuke them." + +Robbie's eyes fell and the guilty color rose slowly through the delicate +skin of throat and brow. But Miss Cutter did not see it. She had pulled +down the green shade and propping her elbows in their former position had +returned to her scansion. She had wasted too much time already. + +Conscience-smitten Robbie Belle slid silently through the door and stood +at loss for a minute in the deserted corridor. It was Friday night. +Nobody studied on Friday night except girls who were queer or who roomed +with superior special students like Miss Cutter. On her first day at +college Miss Cutter had remarked that there might be a vacant seat of +congenial minds for Robbie at her table. Somehow the grave young freshman +who was hoping for fun failed to find them satisfying. She had not won a +real friend yet, and here it was the end of October. + +Robbie Belle was not conceited enough to feel sorry for herself, or else +she might have perceived a certain pathos in that listless journey of a +lonely child from her worse than solitary room to the deadly quiet of the +library. One of the hilarious ghosts who were weaving spells under the +evergreens happened to glance in through a great softly shining window +and recognized the drooping head above a long deserted table between the +shelves of books. + +"There's our noble warden," whispered Bea, "studying on Friday night! +Looks like a dig as well as a prig, n'est-ce-pas?" + +Berta's eager dark face grew sober under the swathing folds of her +pillow-case. "Maybe it isn't her fault," she said. + +But Robbie Belle unaware of this precious drop of sympathy plodded +through an essay on Intellect, wrote out a laborious analysis, and at the +stroke of the nine-thirty gong crept reluctantly back to her room. The +next morning she translated her Latin, committed a geometrical +demonstration to a faithful memory, consumed a silent luncheon amid a +dizzying cross-fire of psychological arguments, walked around the garden, +through the pines and over the orchard hill for a scrupulously full hour +of exercise, read her physiology notes, and composed one page of her +weekly theme before dinner time. After dinner she stood in a corner of +Parlor J and watched the dancing. Then she went to chapel with Miss +Cutter, returned alone in haste to dress in the concealing sheet and +pillow case. It was rather difficult to manage the drapery without aid, +especially in the back and at the sides. The strange junior who had +chosen Robbie's name from the class list and undertaken to escort her to +the party found awaiting her a rumpled young ghost with raiment that +sagged and bagged quite distressingly in unexpected places. But the eyes +that shone from between the crooked bands of white were joyous with +excitement. In this disguise she was sure that no one would recognize +her; and so of course they would not know that she was queer, and perhaps +she would have fun at last. + +And at first it really seemed as if she would. Imagine a big gymnasium +with jack-o'-lanterns on the rafters and a blazing wood-fire in the wide +fireplace, and five hundred figures in white circling and mingling among +the shadows, and at least a thousand sticks of candy, and three big +dish-pans full of peanuts, and gallons and gallons of red lemonade. When +her escort proposed that they should go up-stairs to look in upon the +seniors and sophomores who were having a country dance, Robbie Belle +moistened her lips and said, "If you please, don't wait for me. I enjoy +it so much here." Then at the junior's formal, "Oh, certainly, Miss +Sanders!" she remembered that often people did not understand her unless +she used a bothersome number of words. So she added hastily, "I mean that +you must go with your own friends and leave me here, because I am +watching some girls I know, and I want to speak to them. Please don't +trouble any more about me, thank you." + +"I do know them," she assured herself as her escort disappeared, "and I +do want to speak to them even if they don't know me. I think"--she +hesitated and turned quite pale at the prospect of such daring, "I think +I shall go and play with them. They will suppose I am one of them. Nobody +will know." + +At this point the file of impudent ghosts, headed by Berta, who looked +unusually tall and still angular under her flowing sheet, paraded past +Robbie Belle's corner, their elbows flapping like wings. With a gasp for +courage she took one step forward and found herself prancing along at the +end of the line. + +It was such fun! Robbie Belle had shot up to an annoying stature so +comparatively early in life that her romping days seemed to have broken +short off in the middle. She had never had enough of tag and +hide-and-seek and coasting. She hated long skirts. Indeed that was one +reason why she longed to join the enviable circle of freshmen around +Berta: they wore golf skirts all day long, except when hockey called for +the gymnasium costume or bicycling demanded its appropriate array. The +reason why she liked Miss Abbott best of course was because her name was +Roberta, too. + +On this Hallowe'en, in joyous faith in her disguise, she forgot her +height and breadth and the dignity imposed thereby. And anyhow Berta +Abbott was just as tall, if not of such stately proportions. So Robbie +Belle with exulting zest in the frolic raced up-stairs and down with the +mischievous band of freshmen. They skipped saucily around members of the +faculty, chased appreciative juniors, frightened the smallest forms into +scuttling flight, and gave their great performance of "There was an old +woman all skin and bones," in the middle of the upper hall, where the +seniors were entertaining the sophomores. + +It was fun to howl. It was so long since Robbie Belle had grown up that +she had almost forgotten the joy of using her lungs to their full +capacity. With her spirits dancing in the afterglow of such vocal +exercise, she marched after the others down to the hall below. There in +the vestibule Berta halted her followers for final instructions. + +"Now, girls, fall into line according to height. We are going to +astonish----Why!" She fixed two amazed dark eyes upon the tallest, "who +are you?" + +Robbie Belle heard; she felt her heart shriveling within her; her +shoulders seemed to shrink together; her head drooped. Then turning away +slowly she moved toward the gymnasium apartment, a loose corner of her +robe trailing at her abashed heels. But she did not escape swiftly enough +to avoid catching the sound of hisses. + +"Ha! an interloper!" + +"Hist! ye false intruder!" + +"Seize him! To the shambles!" + +"To the guillotine! Ho, brothers! pursue!" + +That made Robbie Belle flee so fast that she was able to take refuge +behind Prexie himself while the vengeful furies withdrew to a respectful +distance. That night when she was shaking her pillow back into its case +Robbie noticed some damp spots amid its creases. A few minutes later she +laid her head down on it and proceeded to create some more. There was +only one comfort in the throng of scorching reflections: this was that it +had not been Berta's voice that had called her an intruder. Perhaps Berta +did not think she had done something so awfully wicked after all. + +This faint hope infused more dreadful bitterness into the incident that +happened in mathematics C on Monday. Anybody would have believed that +Berta was offended past forgiveness. She sat next to Robbie. She was not +very well prepared that morning, possibly in consequence of Saturday's +excitement. The instructor was more than usually curt and crisp with an +unsmiling sternness that struck terror to palpitating freshman hearts. In +the middle of the hour Berta became aware that a problem was traveling +rapidly down the row toward her; and she had not been paying attention. +She had not even noticed the statement of it, for it had started at an +apparently safe distance from her seat. Turning with a swift motion of +the lips she asked Robbie Belle to tell her. And Robbie Belle--how she +longed to tell it! It had almost leaped from her lips while conscience +reasoned wildly against it as deceit. It would not be honest. And +yet--and yet--the girls would think she was queer. They would say she was +mean and priggish, for she might have told Berta as easily as not. + +There! the third girl from Berta was trying to explain her own ignorance +and failing brilliantly. Now the second was stammering through a +transparent bluff. Berta had settled back, coolly resigned to fate. How +she must suffer, after having stooped to ask for aid! Poor Robbie Belle! +Poor, lonely, disappointed Robbie Belle! For strange to say she flunked +too and the question journeyed on triumphantly to the mathematical +prodigy at the end of the row. + +In the corridor outside Berta exerted her nimble self to overtake Miss +Sanders, who was sidling away in a strikingly unprincesslike manner, her +eyes shifting guiltily. + +"So you didn't know the answer either? Wasn't that the biggest joke on +me! And really, Miss Sanders, I beg your pardon for asking. It popped out +before I could gather my wits. I am scared to death in that class, though +of course that is no excuse for sponging. I'm glad you didn't know it +enough to tell me after all." + +Robbie Belle lifted the lashes from her flushed cheeks. "I--I did know +it," she said with a gulp. + +"Oh!" said Berta, and stared, "how--how peculiar!" + +Robbie Belle held back the tears till she had reached her room, seized +her hat and snatched her thickest veil. Then she fled to the loneliest +walk among the pines. Her veil was a rarity that rendered her an object +of curiosity to everybody she passed on the way. But she hurried on, +somewhat comforted by the conviction that no one could mark her reddened +eyelids. In truth she had good need of comfort, for Berta Abbott herself +had said that she was peculiar. And peculiar meant queer! + +That evening Robbie sat down to study for the Latin test announced for +the next day. Miss Cutter was studying, too, harder than ever. The green +shade was pulled so fiercely forward that a fringe of hair stood up in a +crown where the elastic had rumpled it. Her grammar, lexicon and +text-book occupied most of the table, but Robbie did not complain. She +could manage very well by laying her books, one on the open face of +another, in her lap. For once she was grateful that an ENGAGED sign +shielded them from interruptions, for Latin was her shakiest subject, +especially the rules of indirect discourse. The instructor had warned the +class that this weak spot was to be the point of attack. If Robbie Belle +should not succeed in drumming the rules into her head before the ideas +in it began to spin around and around in their usual dizzy fashion when +she waxed sleepy, she might just as well stay away from the recitation +room. Or better perhaps, for in absence there was a possibility of both +doubt and hope: hope on Robbie Belle's part that she might have been able +to answer the questions if she had been there, on the teacher's part +doubt concerning the exact extent of the pupil's knowledge. + +At the end of the corridor just outside their door a narrow stairway led +to the north tower rooms on the floor above. Beatrice Leigh and Lila +Allan and a number of their liveliest friends lived up there on the +fifth, with Berta Abbott at the foot of the stairs near Robbie's place of +abode. + +Just as Robbie's usually serene brow was puckering its hardest over the +sequence of tenses, a door banged open in the tower and the stairs +creaked under swift clatter of feet--a dozen at the very least. + +Miss Cutter scowled beneath the green shade; Robbie Belle could tell that +from the way the fringe of upright hair vibrated. + +"Savages!" she muttered, "they'll tear the building to pieces. No wonder +the newspapers report that the college girl's favorite mode of locomotion +is sliding down the banisters." + +"No," said Robbie Belle, "not that. They take hold of the railing and +jump several steps at a time. I've seen them. Miss Leigh says she does it +for exercise." + +"And this also is exercise!" Miss Cutter clutched her ears as a tornado +swept past their threshold. + +Robbie bent to listen anxiously. "They're going to the ice-cooler," she +said, "pretty soon they will go back again." + +"Yes," said Miss Cutter as she rose and moved toward the door, "they will +doubtless go back, and doubtless also they shall go in a different +manner." + +Then she went out and remonstrated briefly but to the point. Whereupon +the culprits apologized with noble profusion and tiptoed their way to the +stairs. This would have been an admirable proof of repentance if their +heels had not persisted in coming down on the bare boards in very loud +clicks at very short intervals. And every click was greeted by a +reproving chorus of "Sh-sh-sh!" + +The instant they reached the hall above, pandemonium broke loose. To +judge from the sounds, they were playing blindman's buff with scampering +of heavy shoes, scraping of chairs, banging against walls, flopping on +mattresses. Even reluctant Robbie Belle looked upward in fear that the +ceiling might fall. When a deputation of wild eyed sophomores from an +adjacent study arrived to protest against a continuation of the outrage, +the shrinking corridor-warden had no loophole for escape from her duty. +Outwardly calm, inwardly quivering, she mounted the stairs to expostulate +on behalf of the Students' Association for Self-Government. + +When the peace officer reached the foot of the flight, the noise sank +abruptly into a silent scurrying--on unadulterated tiptoes this time. +When she appeared at the top, she beheld the tower hall deserted, every +door shut and a suspiciously profound stillness reigning in the dimly +lighted Paradise of fun. Ah! she drew a breath of relief from away down +in her boots. Surely now she had performed her duty. Nobody could expect +her to find fault after the disturbance had ceased. Now the girls below +would be at liberty to study in peace. + +Barely had she completed her hurried descent before the strange silence +above was shattered suddenly by the simultaneous banging of seven doors. +Seven full-lunged voices burst forth into a howling song, while twice as +many feet thumped and tapped and pranced and pounded in the mazes of an +extemporaneous jig. + +Robbie Belle halted instantly, with a quick lift of her head. Her +nostrils quivered. Her violet eyes snapped black. Her hands clenched. +Turning swiftly she mounted the stairs once more. But this time she was +angry. The uproar was an insult to the authority of the Students' +Association. She forgot for the minute all about shy Robbie Belle. + +And the mischievous freshmen above--the flippant fun-loving irresponsible +six-year-old freshmen--they waited ready to meet the warden with an +impudent burst of revelry, and thus to dash her official dignity from its +exasperating estate. When they saw Robbie Belle's face they simply +stared. They listened in silence to the few rapid words that stung and +burned and smarted. They watched her depart, her head still held at its +angle of wrathful justice. Then they looked at one another. + +They could not see how, when once safely in the haven of her room, she +broke down utterly and lay trembling and sobbing in Miss Cutter's +astonished arms. Now at last she had surely committed an unpardonable +offense against the only girls for whom she cared in the whole +collegeful--especially Berta. Now Berta would be certain she was queer. + +Meanwhile in the tower, Berta drew a long breath and glanced around at +her dismayed and sobered companions. + +"The more I see of that girl," she said, "the better I like her. And we +have been awfully silly--that's a fact. The next time I see her I shall +tell her so too. Now suppose we go and do a little studying our own +selves." + +Somehow or other before Thanksgiving Day, Robbie Belle Sanders had ceased +to be disappointed in college. With Berta for a dearest friend and Miss +Cutter withdrawn to a more congenial neighborhood, she was finding it +even more fun than she had expected. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A QUESTION OF ECONOMY + + +"I LOVE music myself," said Robbie Belle, lifting serene eyes from her +porridge, "but to-day is Thanksgiving Day." + +"Oh!" sighed Berta, as she clasped her hands--those thin nervous hands +with the long fingers that Robbie Belle admired all the more for their +contrast with her own dimpled ones, "think of hearing Caruso and Sembrich +together in grand opera! I could walk all the way on my knees." + +"What!" cried Robbie Belle in wide-eyed astonishment, her spoon half way +to her mouth, "walk seventy miles! And miss the Dinner?" + +The graduate fellow at the head of their table looked quite sad as she +nodded her pretty head, though to be sure her napkin was hiding her lips. + +"Why!" gasped Robbie Belle, freshman, "but Dinner is to begin at three +and last till almost six. And we are going to have salted almonds and +nesselrode pudding and raw oysters and chocolate peppermints and turkey +and sherbet and macaroons and nuts and celery and Brussels sprouts and +everything. We are painting the place-cards this morning and one is for +you. It is a shame for you to sacrifice it just to hear grand opera, Miss +Bonner. Are you really intending to take the nine o'clock train?" + +Again the fellow nodded. Robbie Belle's wondering gaze rested a moment on +Berta's gypsy face alight now with an intensity of longing. Deliberately +depositing her spoon on one side of her saucer and her buttered bit of +roll on the other she devoted her entire attention to this marvel. + +"I cannot understand," she said clearly, "it is only singing. And to-day +is Thanksgiving Day. It comes once a year." + +Miss Bonner brushed her napkin across her mouth rather hurriedly and +excused herself from the table. Robbie Belle watched her retreating down +the long vista of the dining-room. + +"Would you honestly choose to go with her if you could, Berta?" she +asked, "grand opera is only something to see and hear and then it is all +over." + +"Oh, Robbie Belle!" groaned Berta, "how about the Dinner? That is only +something to eat, and then it is all over too." + +"Why don't you go if you want to?" inquired Robbie Belle as she +reflectively picked up her roll again. "We can invite somebody else to +take your place at the table. Bea and Lila are going to the hothouse for +smilax and chrysanthemums." + +"Why don't I go?" Berta leaned back and drew a long and melancholy sigh +from the bottom of her boots. "Girls," she turned to the others who were +still lingering over their breakfast, "she asks why I don't go to hear +grand opera. And it costs two dollars railroad fare even on a commutation +ticket, and seats are three dollars up, and I have precisely thirty-seven +cents to last me till Christmas." + +"Oh," commented Robbie Belle repentantly, "I didn't think. I'd love to +pay for all of you, only I haven't any money either." + +Berta clutched at her heart and bent double in a bow of gratitude +unspeakable. Robbie Belle continued to stare at her thoughtfully. "If you +truly want to, Berta, we might save up and go to the opera some other +day. I'm willing." + +"Willing! Dear child! Willing! Behold how she immolates herself upon the +altar of friendship! She is willing to go to grand opera and sit +listening to sweet sounds from dawn to dark----" + +"Oh, Berta!" interrupting in alarm, "not from dawn to dark really? How +about----" + +"Luncheon?" the other caught up the sentence tragically. "Ah, no, but +calm thyself, dear one. Be serene--as usual. There is an intermission for +luncheon. We could go to a restaurant. It would be a restaurant with a +vinegar cruet in the centre of the table and plates of thick bread at +each end and lovely little oyster crackers for the soup. Perhaps if you +had two dollars extra you might order terrapin." + +"And pickles," put in Bea generously, "with striped ice-cream." + +"And angel food with chocolate frosting an inch thick," contributed Lila. + +"It's a long time till spring," said Robbie Belle regretfully, "but very +likely we will need all that while to save it up." + +As it turned out, they did need all that while to save it up. For +beauty-loving Berta with her eternally slim purse and hopelessly meagre +account-book, the plan at first seemed only a vision of the moment. +Nobody can save out of nothing, can she? Robbie Belle, however, had a +stubborn fashion of clinging to an idea when once it became fixed. Her +ideas, furthermore, were apt to be clean-cut and definite. This is how +she reasoned it out: + +If a girl receives five dollars a month from home to pay for books and +postage and incidentals, she is entitled to whatever she saves from the +allowance. Every time this girl refrains from writing a letter, she has +really saved two cents or the value of the stamp, to say nothing of the +paper. Whenever she walks down town instead of riding, she has a right to +the nickel to add to the fund in the back of her top bureau drawer. If +she buys a ten-cent fountain-pen instead of a dollar one, she virtually +earns ninety cents. If she rents a grammar for twenty-five cents instead +of paying one dollar and a half for a new book, she is a thrifty person +who deserves the difference. Every time she declines--mournfully--to drop +in at the restaurant for dinner with a crowd of friends, or refuses to +join in a waffle-supper, Dutch treat, she is so much nearer being a +melancholy and noble capitalist. + +"Yes, that's all right for you," assented Berta airily when told of this +working theory, "but supposing you don't have the money to save in the +first place? I fail to receive five dollars a month from home or even one +dollar invariably; and I always walk to town and never enter the +restaurant except to wait while you save ten cents by buying half a pound +of caramels when you want to buy a whole pound." + +"They're forty cents a pound, Berta," objected scrupulous Robbie Belle. +"I really saved twenty cents yesterday, you see." + +"Ah, of course, how distressingly inaccurate of me. And I also--I saved +five dollars and fourteen cents by using my wash-stand for a +writing-table instead of buying that bargain desk for four dollars and +ninety-eight cents. The extra fifteen was saved on the inkwell I did not +buy either. I say, Robbie Belle Sanders, let's save the entire sum by +denying ourselves that set of Browning we saw last week." + +Robbie Belle looked grieved. "You always make fun of everything. You act +as if you didn't care." + +Berta turned away for a minute, and stood gazing from the window of her +little tower room. The window was small and high, but the view was wide +and wonderful toward the purple hills in the west. At length she said +something under her breath. Robbie Belle heard it and understood. It was +only, "I'm afraid." + +Robbie Belle knew that Berta was afraid of caring too much. She had +listened once in twilight confidence under the pines to the story of how +Berta had been all ready to start for college three years before, when a +sudden family misfortune changed her plans and condemned her to immediate +teaching. In the bitterness of her disappointment she had vowed never to +set her heart on any plan again. + +Walking over to Berta's side Robbie Belle took the listless hand in both +her comforting ones. + +"Even if we shouldn't manage it this year, you know, we could try again +next year. We might earn something extra during the summer." + +"Next year!" echoed Berta under her breath. "I can't count on next +year--I dare not. You do not understand, for your scholarship is certain +through the course, while mine depends on what Prexie thinks I am worth. +I am under the eye of the faculty. Don't talk about next year. I am +pretending that this is the last time I shall be here in October, then in +November, then in December. I look at everything--the lake, the trees, +the girls, the teachers, the dear, dear library, and say, 'Good-bye! +Good-bye, my college year.' They may not help me to come back, you know. +If I really try not to expect it, I will not be disappointed in any case. +Of course, I am not worth four hundred dollars to them. I am afraid to +hope for it." + +"Why, you are the brightest student here. Bea says so and you know it!" +exclaimed Robbie Belle indignantly; "there isn't any question about your +being granted another scholarship when you apply for it next spring. They +weigh everything--intellect, personality, character, conduct. Never you +fear. If they give only one scholarship in the whole college, it shall be +to you. You are superstitious: you fancy that if you do your best to +expect the worst, the best will happen, because it is always the +unexpected that happens. Only of course, that isn't true at all." + +Berta was smiling mistily around into the fair face. "Dear old Robbie +Belle! Will Shakespeare was right--'there's flattery in friendship'--it +makes me rejoice. The trouble, you see, sweetheart, lies in my character. +I misdoubt me that Prexie will spurn my plea if he hears how often we +have a meeting of the fudge club at a tax of two cents per head. Let's +save up that two cents for the Opera fund." + +Robbie Belle drew a deep sigh. "All right," she agreed with a doleful +glance toward the particular blue plate in which she was accustomed to +pour her share of the delicacy. "Anyway the doctor calls fudge an +'abomination.' Bea will scold because she hates scrimping. But then she +doesn't care so much as we do for music unless it is convenient." + +Berta's contributions were the result of more active exertions than the +other's passive self-denial. She sat up one night till two o'clock to +dress a doll. Every fall a few hundred dolls were distributed to be +dressed by the girls for the Christmas tree at the Settlement House in +the city. Some of the students took dolls and paid other girls to make +the clothes. Berta earned a dollar by helping Bea with the three which +that impulsive young woman had rashly undertaken. In February she +composed valentines and sold them to over-busy maidens who felt unequal +to rhyming in the reaction after the midyear examinations. In March she +painted Easter eggs and in April she arranged pots of growing ferns and +flowers from the woods. By May the fund was complete and the tickets were +bought. + +As the longed-for event drew nearer, Berta made a string of paper dolls +and joyfully tore off one for each passing day. + +At last the morning dawned. Robbie Belle was dreaming that she had fallen +asleep in fifth hour Latin. It seemed as if the instructor called her +name and then came walking down from the platform, thump, thump, thump, +in her broad-soled shoes. It was unladylike to thump so heavily, thought +Robbie Belle in the midst of her confused dismay over having lost the +place in the text as well as forgotten the translation. The thumping +sharpened to a rat-tat-tat upon the bedroom door. + +"Robbie Belle, Robbie Belle, you lazybones! The night watchman has +knocked twice already. Get up, get up this instant! We're going to hear +Grand Opera to-day! O-o-ooh!" + +Robbie Belle lifted her head to listen. "Berta Abbott, you've got a +chill. I hear you shivering. Hurry into your clothes this minute. I'll +bring you the quinine." + +Quinine! Berta shivering from excitement laughed softly to herself. Dear +old Robbie Belle! Quinine on this wonderful day! Listen! That was the +twittering of swallows under the eaves. A squirrel peered in at her +window, his bright eyes twinkling. It was too bad that he did not enjoy +music. But perhaps he did after all. Hark! that was a robin. And listen! +There sounded the full-throated whistle of a brown thrush. The world was +ringing with music--beautiful, beautiful, beautiful! And she was going to +hear Grand Opera to-day! That had been her most precious dream next to +coming to college. To come to college and to hear Grand Opera too! + +"My cup runneth over! My cup runneth over," she chanted softly to +herself, while from Robbie Belle's room rose a faint noise of deliberate +dressing, subdued splashing, slow steps, a rustling that was almost +methodical in its rhythm. + +"Berta," she announced, appearing with hat set straight and firm over her +smooth dark hair, her coat over one arm, her umbrella neatly strapped, "I +think I shall carry my Horace, for it is a two-hours' ride, and to-day is +Saturday and after Sunday comes Monday." + +Berta clapped her hands over her ears, "Go away, go away to your +breakfast, miserable creature! Horace! that worldly wise old Roman! With +the river before your eyes, the beautiful river in May!" + +"The next ode begins, 'O Fons Bandusiæ!'--a fountain, you understand," +protested Robbie Belle in injured tones, "he loved the country. I wanted +to read it aloud to you and get in my practice on scansion that way. I am +learning to do it quite well. Listen! 'Splendidior vitro-o-o,'" she +declaimed, dragging out the syllables to lugubrious length. + +"Dear Robbie Belle," murmured Berta pleasantly, "if you breathe one line +of that stuff on this journey I shall throw you into the river +myself--cheerfully." She nodded vigorous approval of her own sentiments, +and her contrary hair seized the opportunity to tumble down again in +resentment of impatient fingers. "Oh, Robbie Belle, come and twist this +up for me, won't you? We shall be late for the train. I don't believe we +care for breakfast anyhow." + +"Not care for breakfast!" Robbie Belle shut her mouth determinedly. She +walked over to the wardrobe, pinned Berta's hat securely on the fly-away +hair, caught up her jacket, tucked the tickets into her own pocket, and +sternly marched her scatter-brained friend out of the room and down the +corridor. + +"It's gone to her head," she muttered sadly as if communing with herself, +"the idea of music has gone to her head. I must address her soothingly. +Yes, yes, we're going--we're going soon, don't worry. But we're a-going +clothed and in our right mind--mine at least, and fed." + +On tiptoe they flitted down to the big empty dining-room. A special +breakfast was being served to the dozen or more students who intended to +take the early train to the city. The unaccustomed stillness in the vast +apartment usually vibrating with clatter of dishes and chatter of tongues +seemed dreamlike to Berta in her exalted mood. Robbie Belle found it +necessary to exert her firmest authority in order to get Berta to eat +even a roll and swallow a cup of chocolate. + +Two of the seniors who were going shopping lamented that they had +neglected to apply for opera tickets until the house had been sold out. +Berta gazed at them pityingly. To have the money and to be in the city, +and yet not to be able to go! Why hadn't they thought of it in time? She +had anticipated it years in advance. This world was full of queer +people--all sorts of people who did not care for music, and even some who +did not care for books. Wasn't it the strangest thing--not to care! + +When somebody consulting her watch announced that the special electric +car was to leave the Lodge Gates for the station in seven minutes, Berta +dropped spoon and napkin in eager haste to depart. Out into the corridor +and around the balusters to the messenger room where they were required +to register their names and destination. At the foot of the broad +staircase hung the bulletin board in the pale flicker of a lowered +gas-jet. The morning light was brightening through the windows beyond. +Berta halted mechanically to scan the oblong of dark red in search of +possible new notices. Something may have been posted since chapel last +night. + +Ah, yes, there was a fresh square of white tucked under the tapes that +marked the felt into convenient diamonds. Berta read it at a glance. + +"All students requiring financial assistance for the coming year are +requested to make written application to the President before May 10th. +It is understood that those receiving such aid will exercise all +reasonable economy in avoiding unnecessary expenditure." + +Berta did not move, though her mobile face seemed to harden in a +curiously stony expression. She read the notice again. Robbie Belle came +breezily from the messenger room. + +"Anything new, Berta? You look queer." She followed the direction of the +fascinated eyes. She read it slowly and drew a deep breath. + +"So we can't go after all," she said. + +Berta seemed to wake up suddenly from a trance. "Robbie Belle!" + +"I can't help it," doggedly though the smooth forehead had clouded in a +quick frown of pain at the cry, "it would not be honest. I didn't know +before." + +"It's our own money," protested Berta defiantly. + +"But our scholarships are the same as borrowed." + +[Illustration: "ANYTHING NEW?"] + +"The tickets are bought and paid for." + +Robbie Belle caught a glimpse of figures emerging from the dining-room. +"There come those two seniors who forgot to get seats in advance. Isn't +it lucky! Now we can sell them ours." + +"Give me my ticket," demanded Berta's voice sullenly, "you never cared." + +"But it is not honest," repeated Robbie Belle stubbornly. "I never +thought of it in that light before. It is not honest to spend five +dollars and more for a luxury while we are living on borrowed money." + +"Give--me--my--ticket." + +The seniors rustled past. To Berta their laughter sounded far away. "Oh, +girls, we'll have to hurry! Hear that bell jangle." + +"The conductor does it on purpose to see us run. We have three minutes +yet. Those two freshmen by the bulletin-board are going." + +"It is not honest," said Robbie Belle. + +Fragments of gay chatter floated back to them. "Caruso and Sembrich in +Lucia di Lammermoor! Fancy! It is the most wonderful combination of +extraordinary talent--genius. I shall certainly go if I have to stand up +every minute of the three hours." + +"It is simply wicked to miss such an opportunity." + +"Important part of our education, isn't it? I only wish my thesis were on +the 'Development of the Drama.' I should employ the laboratory method +most assuredly." + +"The critics say that such a chance as this does not occur more than once +in a century." + +"It is not honest," said Robbie Belle, back in the shadowy corridor +before the bulletin-board. + +"Will you give me my ticket?" + +Robbie Belle flinched before the passionate low tones, and the roseleaf +color in her cheeks went quite white. She handed Berta both tickets. "You +may do what you like with mine," she said and turned slowly away. + +Berta fled in the wake of the hurrying seniors. Her head buzzed with +frantic arguments. It was her own money--she had earned it. Nobody had a +right to dictate what she should do with it. Robbie Belle never could see +more than one side of a question. To forbid unnecessary expenditure just +because she accepted a loan to carry her through college! Who was to say +whether it was unnecessary or not? The Opera was part of her musical +education. She would repay the scholarship with interest at the earliest +possible date after she began to earn a salary. What meddling insolence! +The girls who held scholarships were the brightest and finest in +college--some of them. And to treat them as if they were extravagant, +silly little spendthrifts! It was honest. Hadn't she denied herself +everything all the year--clubs and dinners and drives and flowers and +ribbons and gloves and new books and fine note-paper and that cast of the +Winged Victory which she had wanted and wanted and wanted? Not that she +assumed any credit for such self-denial--it simply had to be, that was +all. But now, this was different. She owed it to herself not to miss such +a wonderful occasion. A chance in a century--that was what the senior +said. + +Ting-aling, ting-aling! jangled the bell madly. The conductor paused, his +hand on the strap. A breathless girl sprang upon the platform, darted +into the car, tossed a packet upon a convenient lap. + +"There are two seats for the Opera. We can't go." And she had leaped from +the moving steps and vanished through the great iron gates of the Lodge. + +Back in the dormitory before the bulletin-board Miss Bonner, the graduate +fellow, was staring at the new placard. She gave a slight start of +astonishment at a glimpse of Berta hastening past her. Then because she +had heard the story from Robbie Belle two minutes earlier, she pretended +to be absorbed in the notices, for she suspected that any comment would +start the tears that Berta was holding back. However, she was smiling to +herself after the girl had vanished up the stairs. When the gong struck +for breakfast, she halted at the faculty table to whisper a few words to +the professor in her special department. The professor answered, "How +glad I am!" + +"And you really believe that it would have prejudiced the scholarship +committee against Miss Abbott, if she had persisted in this extravagance? +She has worked so hard to earn it." + +"I understand," the professor was sympathetic but unswerving from her +convictions; "it seems somewhat cruel when one considers how passionately +fond of music the child is. Still you must remember that this scholarship +fund is the result of endless self-denial. I have known several alumnæ, +to say the least, who have sacrificed greater privileges than visits to +the Opera for the sake of contributing an extra mite. Would it be just for +one who benefits from the economy of others to spend in self-indulgence?" + +Meanwhile Berta, unconscious of the fact that her whole college career +and the future to be moulded by it had depended upon her decision to do +right in this apparently insignificant respect, had trudged up to a +certain lonely room. Robbie Belle lifted a wet face from a consoling +pillow. + +"Berta!" It was like a soft little shout of triumph. "I knew----" + +Berta swallowed a lump in her throat and managed to smile a whimsical +smile from behind dewy lashes. + +"Maybe we'll have clam chowder for luncheon," she said, "and then won't +those two seniors be sorry!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HER FRESHMAN VALENTINES + + +WHEN Bea straightened her head from its anxious tilt over the desk, she +drew the tip of her tongue from its perilous position between two rows of +white teeth, and heaved a mighty sigh of relief. + +Then she blinked admiringly upon the white pile of envelopes lying in the +glow of the drop-light. "There! That makes fifteen valentines all for +her. She will be sure to receive more than any other senior, and that +will teach Berta Abbott a thing or two. The idea of her insisting that +her senior is more popular than my senior!" + +With a smile that was rather more sleepy than dreamy, the industrious +young freshman picked up the precious missives. + +"O Lila,--my magnanimous roommate,--are you asleep? Do you want to listen +to my last valentines? I intend to run down and put them in the senior +caldron presently. Is this sentimental? When I read it to Berta, she +laughed at it. + + "My Music + + "At thy birth were gathered voices of the sea, + Murmur of the breezes in the forest tree, + Songs of birds and laughter--" + +At this point an open umbrella, which hid the pillow on the farther +narrow bed, gave a convulsive shiver, and a fretful voice complained: + +"Will you turn off that gas and stop your nonsense? Here it is midnight, +if it's an hour, and I haven't slept a wink, with that light blazing. I +know I shall fail in the written test to-morrow, Valentine's day or not." + +Bea stared pensively at the Topsy-like corona above the flushed face. "I +don't believe she ever puts her hair up in curlers now, do you? She is +superior to such vanities, and anyway, it is naturally curly, you know, +and that probably makes a difference. I wonder if she even stoops to +making verses. Do you suppose she sends valentines to other girls? Of +course, she doesn't care a snap whether she receives more than any, and +is declared the most popular senior. H'm-m-m!" drifting into reverie +afresh. "I dare say I could compose a poem on that idea. For instance: + + "I know a senior all sedate--" + +The umbrella bounced tempestuously across the floor, and was followed by +a pillow driven hard and straight at a tousled head that ducked just in +time. + +"U-huh!" ferociously. "Well, + + "I know a freshman, sure as fate! + Who shall no longer sit up late, + Because her long-suffering roommate--" + +Here the gas flared suddenly into darkness, and slippered feet scurried +away from the desk. The door opened and shut quickly; and Bea, her +valentines clutched safely against her dressing gown, was speeding +through the dark corridors toward the senior parlor. There a kettle, +overflowing with bits of white, swung from a tripod before the shadowy +folds of the parlor portières. + +Ah! Bea, bending toward the caldron with arm extended, stiffened without +moving. She had heard something. Yes, there it was again--a muffled +footfall on the stairs near by. Hark! Down the black shaft from the cave +above came stealing a second slender figure in a flowing robe of some +pale woolly stuff. In her hands also was clasped a packet of envelopes. + +"Hello, Berta!" Bea said. + +"Oh, good-morning, Miss Leigh!" responded Berta, advancing with a tread +the stateliness of which was somewhat impaired by a loosely flapping +sole. "Did you rise early in order to prepare for the Latin test?" + +Bea brushed aside the query with the contempt it deserved. "Are all those +for your senior? I don't think it's fair for you to copy verses out of +any old book, while every one of mine is original; and yet yours count +exactly as much. Well, anyway, I wouldn't send my senior anything that +was ordinary and unworthy of her acceptance. How many have you?" + +This ignoble curiosity was likewise ignored by Miss Berta, who proceeded +with dignified slowness to drop her valentines one by one into the +caldron. Bea, with lingering care, deposited her contribution on the very +top. One slid over the edge, and in rescuing it she disturbed a fold of +the portière. A glimpse within set her eyes to sparkling. + +"Berta, there's an open fire in the senior parlor, and it's still red!" + +"Ho," whispered Berta, in reply to the unspoken challenge, "I'm not +afraid! Let's," and two flowing, woolly robes glided into the warm room, +with its heart of glowing coals. One bold intruder nestled in the biggest +arm-chair, the other fumbled for the tongs. + +"Aren't we wicked! Robbie wouldn't do it." Berta cuddled deeper among the +comforting cushions. "But--oh!--doesn't it feel good in here!" + +Bea poked a coal until it split into a faint blue blaze. "We're worse +than wicked. We're cheeky,--that's what,--coming into this room without +being invited. Suppose some senior should discover us!" She paused, +smitten by the terror of the new thought. "Just suppose my senior should +find me here! She has a horror of anything underhanded or sly. I should +die of shame!" It was a genuine groan, and Berta was too startled to +laugh. + +"I guess it isn't very nice of us," she acknowledged meekly. + +"I'm going this instant." Bea's hand was on the portière when a rustling +in the kettle caught her attention. Through a rift between the folds she +spied lace ruffles about a delicate hand that was dropping envelopes down +upon the others. Over the tripod a face appeared for one moment in the +dim light, and then was gone. Light steps retreated swiftly, and a door +closed not far away on the senior corridor. Bea had recognized her +senior. + +When the two midnight visitors stole timorously forth a moment later, +Bea's eyes traveled wistfully toward the big envelope lying squarely on +top of all the valentines. + +Berta regarded her keenly. "Why don't you march up and read the name, if +you want to so much?" was her blunt question. + +"She must be pretty fond of somebody," whispered Bea, "if she stayed up +till now just to write valentines for her. I wish----" + +"Do you think it is sneaking to look?" persisted Berta. "If she objected +to having it seen, she might have turned it address down." + +"It is address down," murmured Bea, sadly, "and I know it would be +dishonorable to try to see it. She herself would call any act like that +contemptible." + +At this crisis Berta sneezed--sneezed hard and long and with suspicious +vehemence. And when Bea cast one lingering farewell glance toward the +caldron, she perceived that the topmost missives were sliding over the +edge in the breeze raised by that gusty sneeze. The big square envelope +tumbled clumsily down upon its back and lay staring, quite close to the +flickering gas. Bea's wilful eyes rested on it one illuminating instant, +and then leaped away, while her cheeks whitened suddenly. The name on the +valentine was that of the senior herself. + +Poor little Bea! After the first dazed moment she began to select and +gather up the fifteen valentines which she had deposited five minutes +before. + +"Why, Beatrice Leigh!" gasped Berta. "You haven't any right to take them +back after you have mailed them!" + +"Do you imagine for one moment that I shall give valentines to a girl who +sends them to herself? And the senior who receives the most is declared +the most popular in the class!" + +"But--but," stammered Berta, "perhaps she thought--perhaps she didn't +think----" + +"And I was afraid a girl who could do a thing like that might blame us +for entering the senior parlor uninvited!" + +Bea's hands fell listlessly at her sides as she walked away. "I don't +care," she said. And Berta, who was wise in some unexpected ways, +wondered why people always said they did not care just when they cared +the most. + +Next day various anonymous verses were delivered at the door where Lila +Allan wrestled with the rules for indirect discourse, while her roommate, +chin in hand, stared gloomily out at the snow-darkened sky. Valentines +were silly, anyway, and it was a shame for any one to waste time and +energy in hunting foolish rhymes for eyes and hair and smiles and hearts. +How could a person be sure about anybody, if a girl with a face like a +white flower could send valentines to herself with the address side down? + +All day long the senior caldron bubbled notes faithfully till the very +last minute. After chapel the class fluttered into their little parlor, +with its fire blazing merrily and its shaded lamps glowing. Somebody, +disguised in a long gray beard and flowing gray robe, stalked in amid +laughter and clapping, and began to distribute the contents of the +kettle. + +Berta, hanging at a perilous angle over the stairway just outside, felt +some one halt silently beside her, and glanced up into Bea's eyes. + +"Hello!" she said, in an excited whisper. "Can you see all right, Bea? I +think she has called my senior's name about twenty times already. Look +how the valentines are heaped in her lap! Where's your senior?" + +"That person with the gray beard," began Bea, calmly, only to be +interrupted by, "Why, so it is! What fun! Where does she put the +envelopes addressed to herself? Oh, yes, I see. Why----" Berta caught +Bea's skirts in a firm grasp. "See here, young lady, you'll go over the +banisters head first if you don't undouble yourself pretty soon. +You'll----" + +"That's the very valentine--that big, square envelope in her hand this +instant! She sent it to herself----" + +Bea saw Saint Valentine read aloud the name, and then stop short, staring +at the address in a puzzled way. She turned the envelope over to examine +its back, and study the waxen seal. Suddenly she bent her head in the +delighted laughter that Bea once had thought so charming. She laughed +till the long gray beard threatened to shake itself free. + +"Isn't that the greatest joke! I was scribbling verses last night till I +was too sleepy to see straight. I didn't mean to send this to myself. How +perfectly ridiculous!" and she tossed the innocent missive into the fire. + +Outside on the shadowy stairway Berta gave a little squeal of pain. +"Ouch! You're pinching me black and blue! Why, Bea, Bea Leigh, whatever +in the world----" + +A packet of white, bound with an elastic, went flying through the air, to +fall with a rustling plop into the half-empty caldron. An inquisitive +senior going out to investigate spied only the deserted stairs, and heard +nothing but four scampering feet on the corridor overhead. Saint +Valentine, with a voice that dropped lower and lower into a muffled +murmur, read her own name fifteen times in succession, and blushed +rose-pink, from gray beard to powdered hair, while the other seniors +laughed and laughed. + +Two minutes after the valentines had been counted and the result +announced Bea was waltzing about Berta's room, with that unwilling +captive in her arms. + +"Ho! Who says your senior is more popular than my senior now?" she +jeered. "Who won that time, I want to know?" + +"Before I'd have a senior who sends valentines to herself!" grumbled +Berta wickedly, to the ceiling. + +"Ho!" chanted shameless Bea. "I knew it was a mistake all along. That's +the reason I didn't tear up my valentines." + +"Yes?" commented Miss Berta, with an inflection so maddening that in +three seconds she was fleeing for her life. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE GIFTIE GIE US + + +It had been raining for a week. Berta was writing a poem, her elbows on +the desk, her hair clutched in one hand, her pen in the other. At the +window Robbie Belle was working happily over her curve-tracing, now and +then drawing back to gaze with admiration at the sweeping lines of her +problem. Once the slanting beat of the drops against the pane caught her +eye, and she paused for a moment to consider their angle of incidence. +She decided that she liked curves better than angles. She did not wonder +why, as Berta would have done, but having recognized the fact of +preference turned placidly back to her instruments. + +Splash! came a fiercer gust of rain, and Berta stirred uneasily, tossing +her head as if striving subconsciously to shake off a vague irritation of +hearing. Another heavier sound was mingling with the steady patter. +Rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub! Robbie Belle glanced up and listened, her +pencil uplifted. + +"It's Bea," she said, "she's drumming with her knuckles on the floor in +the corridor. She says that it is against her principles to knock on the +door when it has an engaged sign on it. Shall I say come?" + +Apparently Berta did not hear the question. With her chin grasped firmly +in one fist, she was staring very hard at a corner of the ceiling where +there was nothing in particular. Robbie looked at her and sighed, but the +resignation in the sigh was transfigured by loving awe. She picked up her +pencil in patient acquiescence. Berta must not be disturbed. + +"Chir-awhirr, chir-awhirr, tweet, tweet, tweet!" It was Bea's best +soprano, with several extra trills strewn between the consonants. "Listen +to the mocking-bird. Oh, the mocking-bird is singing on the bough. Bravo, +encore! Chir-awhirr! Encore! + + "'Make me over, Mother April, + When the sap begins to stir. + When thy flowery hand delivers + All the mountain-prisoned rivers, + And thy great heart throbs and quivers + To revive the joys that were, + Make me over, Mother April, + When the sap begins to stir.'" + +Robbie Belle was leaning back in her chair to listen in serene enjoyment. +She loved to hear Bea sing. Berta was listening, too, but with an absent +expression, as if still in a dream. + +The voice outside the door declared itself again. "Ahem, written by Bliss +Carmen. Sung by Beatrice Leigh. Ahem!" It was a noticeably emphatic ahem, +and certainly deserved a more appreciative reply than continued silence +from within. After a minute's inviting pause, the singer piped up afresh. + + "'Make me over in the morning + From the rag-bag of the world. + Scraps of deeds and duds of daring, + Home-brought stuff from far-sea faring, + Faded colors once so flaring, + Shreds of banners long since furled, + Hues of ash and hints of glory + From the rag-bag of the world.' Ahem!" + +The concluding cough was so successfully convulsive that Robbie Belle's +mouth opened suddenly. + +"It must be something important," she said. + +Berta woke up from her trance. "Come!" she called. + +At the first breath of the syllable, the door flew open with a specially +prepared bang, and Bea shot in with an instantaneous and voluntary +velocity that carried her to the centre of the rug. + +"Oh, girls!" she exclaimed in the excited tone of a breathless and +delighted messenger bringing great and astonishing news, "it's raining!" + +In the ensuing stillness, she could almost hear the disgusted thud of +expectation dashed to earth. + +"Villain!" said Berta, and swung around to her interrupted poem. + +Robbie's puzzled stare developed slowly into a smile. "I think that is a +joke," she said. + +Then Bea laughed. She collapsed on the sofa and shook from her boots to +her curls. It was contagious laughter that made Robbie chuckle in +sympathy and Berta grin broadly at a discreet pigeon-hole of her desk. +When the visitor resumed sufficient self-possession to enable her to +enunciate, she sat up and inquired anxiously, + +"Did you hear me sing?" + +Berta regarded her solemnly. "We did," she answered. + +"Yes," said Robbie Belle. + +"Well, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to change. I'm going to be +made over, Mother April. I'm going to turn into a genius for a while. +I've always wanted to be a genius. It's no fun to be systematic and +steady and conscientious, and so forth, is it, Robbie Belle? At least it +isn't very much fun, considering what might be done with our +opportunities. So I intend to behave as if I had an artistic temperament. +I am going to let my work pile up, cut late, skip meals, break +engagements, never answer letters, give in to moods, be generally +irresponsible, and so forth, just like Berta. I'm going to----" + +"What!" + +Bea laughed again mischievously at the sound of outraged dignity in +Berta's voice. "Yes, I am. I have the spring fever: I don't want to do +anything, and I don't want to do nothing either. In fact, this is the +single solitary thing I do want to do. That's the reason why it will be +so agreeable to be a genius. At least, it will be agreeable to me, if not +to my contemporaries and companions. I shall do exactly as I please at +the moment. Another reason will be the thrill of novelty--I'm simply +dying for excitement." + +"Thrill of novelty!" groaned Berta. "I infer that you never do as you +please. You continually 'sackerifice' yourself----" + +"Yes, yes, of course, but I was afraid you hadn't noticed." Bea raised +her fingers to smooth the corners of her mouth straight. "Now, you've +been growing worse--I mean, more and more of a genius ever since entering +college. I myself ought to be called Prexie's Assistant, somewhat after +the order of Miss Edgeworth's 'Parent's Assistant,' you know, because my +career has been such an awful warning to the undergraduate. But you're an +example----" + +"I am not a genius," Berta spoke with biting severity of accent; "Lucine +Brett is a genius, and I despise her." + +"You used to despise her," put in Robbie Belle gently. + +Berta caught her lip between her teeth for a fleeting instant of +irritation, for she was not naturally meek. Then she glanced at Robbie +with a quick smile all the sweeter for the under-throb of repentance over +her impatient impulse. "All right, I used to long ago. But to return to +our guest. I am not a genius, I hasten to remark again. Furthermore I +shall be excessively obliged if Miss Leigh will march out of this +apartment and stay where she belongs." + +In the pause which was occupied by Bea in considering a choice of retorts +stupendous, Robbie spoke again. + +"I think Bea misses Lila while she is in the infirmary," she said. + +Bea swung magnificently on her heel. "I have decided that the proper +rejoinder is a crushing silence. I wish you good afternoon." At the door +she halted. "And I shall be a genius for a spell. You just watch me and +see. Shelley was lawless, you know, and Burns and Carlyle, I guess, and +Goethe and George Eliot----" + +[Illustration: "OH, THANK YOU; I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO EAT"] + +"What!" + +This was a shout of such indignation that Bea vanished instanter. A +moment later she poked her head around the lintel. + +"Well, they were," she said, "and so are you. It is a marvel to me how +you hoodwink Prexie about your work. Pure luck! Vale!" + +Berta's repartee consisted of a sofa pillow aimed accurately at the +diminishing crack. + +The next day was Saturday. Bea failed to appear at breakfast--a +catastrophe which had not occurred before in the memory of the oldest +junior. Berta who usually arrived herself half an hour late headed a +procession of inquiring friends, three of whom bore glasses of milk and +plates of rolls to supply the dire omission. A succession of crescendo +taps at her door was at length rewarded by a drowsy-eyed apparition in +bath-robe and worsted slippers. + +"Oh, thank----" she exclaimed at sight of the sympathetic group, and +suddenly remembered that she must be different from her ordinary self. "I +don't want anything to eat. I didn't feel exactly like getting up early. +I seem to prefer to be alone this morning." And she managed, though with +a hand that faltered at the misdeed, to shut the door in their astonished +faces. + +"Well, I never!" "What has happened?" "Was it a telegram?" "How perfectly +atrocious!" "Is she sick?" "Beatrice Leigh to treat us with such +unutterable rudeness!" + +Berta listened with a queer little smile on her sensitively cut lips. +Once she noticed a hasty twist of the knob as if Bea had snatched at it +from the other side under the prick of the comments floating over the +transom. As she walked slowly away the smile faded before a shadowing +recollection. She was wondering if her own manner had truly been so +unpardonable on that autumn morning when Robbie had carried her a baked +apple with cream on it and plum bread besides. It had certainly been +irritating to be interrupted in the middle of that rondel for the sake of +which she had skipped Sunday breakfast. She had not forgotten how amazed +and disappointed Robbie had looked with the saucer in one hand, the plate +in the other, while the door swung impatiently back to its place. But +then, the poem was sufficient excuse for that discourtesy, Berta assured +herself in anxiety to justify her behavior. If she had waited to be +polite, the thought and the rhymes would doubtless have scattered beyond +recall. Nobody could condemn her for slamming the door and hurrying again +to her desk. She had saved the rondel, and it had been printed in the +Monthly. That was worth some sacrifice, even of manners to dear old +Robbie. She always understood and forgave such small transgressions of +the laws of friendship. Only it certainly looked different when somebody +else did it. + +An hour or so later while Berta was bending devotedly over her notes in +the history alcove of the library, she was vaguely aware of a newcomer +sauntering carelessly behind her chair. A heavy book clattered to the +floor, and somebody's elbow in stooping to pick it up nudged her arm. Her +pen went scratching in a mad zigzag across the neat page and deposited a +big tear of red ink where it suddenly stopped. + +"Oh, I'm sorry," exclaimed Bea repentantly, for she was indeed the +culprit; "it's horrid to be heedless on purpose. I didn't know it would +really do any harm." + +Berta glanced up quickly from her blotter. So Bea considered a reckless +disregard for books and persons also a quality of genius. Berta felt a +slow blush creeping up to her brow at the candid memory of her tendency +to bump into things and brush against people when in a dreamy mood--and +to pass on without even a beg pardon. + +"You're evidently new to the business, my cautious and calculating young +friend," she whispered, "you should have ignored the resultant calamity. +Ah--why, child!" she stared in surprise, "your collar is pinned crooked +and your turnover is flying loose at one end, and your hair is coming +down. You look scandalous." + +Bea looked triumphant also. "It's an artistic disarray," she explained. +"It's hard work because I've slipped into the habit of being prim and +precise, and I had to bend a pin intentionally. Four girls already have +warned me about my hair falling down. It worries me a lot and yet it +doesn't give the same effect as yours. Does yours feel loose and +straggly?" + +Berta's hand flew to her head. "You sinner! Mine is just as usual." + +"Yes, I know it," assented Bea innocently, "it's a negligee style. I'm +being a geni----" + +"Go away!" Berta snatched up her bottle of red ink. "Fly, villain, +depart, withdraw, retreat, abscond, decamp,--in short, go away!" + +Bea went, holding her neck stiffly on one side to balance the sensation +of unsteadiness above her ears. Berta watched her with a wavering +expression that veered from wrathful amusement to uneasy reflectiveness. +Was it really true that she dressed so untidily as this little scamp made +out? Perhaps she did slight details once in a while, but though not +scrupulously dainty like Lila, still she tried to be neat enough on the +whole. Could it be possible that the other girls criticised her so +severely as this? + +The suspicion bothered her so effectually that she left the library five +minutes early and hurried to her room for a few renovating touches before +luncheon. Her hair caused her such extraordinary pains that she was late +in reaching the table. She found that Bea had usurped her place at the +head, but forgot to object in the confusion of being greeted with: +"Heigho, Berta, what's happened?" "You're spick and span enough for a +party." "Are you going to town this afternoon?" + +"Young ladies!" Berta ignored the warm color that she felt rising slowly +under her dark skin, "I am astonished at your manners. Don't you know +that you should never refer to an individual's personal appearance? I +read that in a book on etiquette. You may allude to my money, to my +brains, to the beauty of my soul, but you must not remark upon my looks. +I don't understand the principle of the thing, unless it is that +compliments on the other three articles fail to injure the character, +whereas flattery with regard to my pulchritude----" + +Bea's hand shot into the air and waved frantically. + +"Please, teacher, what is that funny word?" + +"Go to the Latin lexicon, thou ignoramus." + +"I can't," said Bea, "you borrowed mine and never brought it back. It's +being a----" + +"But aren't you going anywhere?" asked Robbie Belle who had been filling +Berta's plate and pouring her milk during the discourse. + +Bea sent a bewitching smile straight into Berta's eyes. "I'm 'most sure +she is going to give me a swimming lesson at half past four. Then if it +is still raining this evening, we can all swim over to the chapel for the +concert. Please, Berta." + +"All right," acquiesced Berta carelessly. "I will do it because I am so +noble and you are a literary person, though how in this world of +incomprehensibilities you managed to get elected to that editorial board +passes my powers of apperception. Robbie, will you be so kind as to reach +me that saltcellar?" + +"You ought to say, 'Salt!' at the beginning, and then while you are +putting in the rest of the words, she can be handing it over," advised +Bea; "ah, what was the thought I was about to think?" + +She paused in dispensing the main dish and rolled up her eyes vacantly +for a moment before she dropped the spoon without a glance at the cloth +to see if it left a stain and rising walked dreamily out of the +dining-room. + +The other girls stared. Robbie looked alarmed till Gertrude caught the +likeness and explained: "It's 'sincerest flattery' for you, Berta. +Imitation, you understand. When an idea strikes you, you drop everything +and wander away while Robbie or Bea picks up the spoon and goes on +ladling out the stuff in the dish at your place. What a monkey!" + +"No, a missionary," corrected Berta, her eyes and mouth contradicting +each other as usual. This time her eyes tried to hide a troubled spark in +their depths while her mouth twitched over the joke of it all. "She is +posing as an awful example." + +"Here I am again!" Bea appeared suddenly in her seat. "I find I'm +considerably hungry still," she vouchsafed in response to a chorus of +taunts and jeers. "Ideas aren't filling, so to speak. At least, mine +aren't--and they most of them belong to other people; hence I infer that +other people's aren't either. Is that plain, my dear young and giddy +friends? Now, somebody, applesauce!" she called, and added politely, +"please pass it." + +Berta regarded her sternly. "Beatrice Leigh, you are running this scheme +pretty far into the ground. When you reach bed-rock, something is likely +to get a bump. Take care! Remember!" + +"Thank you, yes, Berta. Half-past four at the swimming-tank in the +gymnasium. I'll be there. Trust me!" + +"Trust you!" echoed Berta in withering scorn. + +Bea lifted a face bearing a suitably wounded expression. + +"I trust you," she murmured in touchingly plaintive tones. "I shall be in +the water at the stroke of the half hour--in the icy water. Promise that +you will not fail me." + +"All right!" Berta dismissed the engagement from her mind with a heedless +assent. An hour later while she was absorbed in looking over the week's +daily themes which she had found in the box, Robbie walked in rather +disconsolately. + +"Bea's writing a poem, too," she said; "she scowled at me." + +Berta frowned in abstraction. "Yes," she muttered, "yes, yes." + +Robbie looked at her and then stared out at the steady pall of rain. "I +think I shall go swimming with you, if you want me." + +"Do come." It was a mechanical response while Berta's eyes narrowed in +the intensity of her application. "Now I wonder what that question-mark +on the margin can mean. She is the vaguest critic I ever had. Suggestive, +I reckon, and nothing else." + +Robbie sighed. "Bea always used to be interested in everything. I wish +she wouldn't write poems. She walked right past four girls and didn't see +them. They were astonished. They asked me if she was sick or anything. +Her eyes were sort of rolled up in her head, as if she were being +oblivious on purpose." + +"Um-m," replied Berta brilliantly from the depths of her own +obliviousness, "quite likely. Alas! there is another questionable +question-mark. I do wish she weren't so stingy with her red ink." + +Robbie sighed again and looked at the clock. "It will be half past four +in two hours," she volunteered. + +Berta pushed back her hair with an impatient gesture. "Robbie Belle, the +longer it rains, the more loquacious you become. Do go and write a note +to Lila, or darn stockings or something. I have a committee meeting at +three, and you bother me dreadfully, with your chatter. Do run along, +there's a dear." + +Robbie rose and wandered away forlornly. Even though she did not feel +like studying, she half wished that she had not finished the preparation +of Monday's lessons. College on a rainy Saturday afternoon, when all your +friends are writing poems, is not a very cheerful place. + +At half-past four Berta was in the midst of a fiery argument about the +program for the Junior Party to the seniors. The dispute concerned some +fine point of æsthetic taste in the choice of paper and position of +monogram. The stroke of the half hour reminded her of the engagement with +Bea, but she lightly pushed aside the thought as of no consequence in +comparison with the present emergency. + +It was ten minutes to five when she seized an umbrella and scurried +across the campus to the gymnasium. There in the dusk of fading light +from the clouded sky outside she beheld the swimming-tank deserted, its +surface still glinting in soft ripples as if from recent plunging. + +At sound of a rustle in one of the dressing-rooms, Berta called Bea's +name. It was Robbie's voice that answered her. + +"Bea's gone out walking." + +"Out walking?" echoed Berta scandalized and incredulous. + +"Yes, she was here in the water at half-past four, just as she had said +she would be. She waited for you, and tried to swim at the end of a +curtain pole. I held it steady for her, but when she was the teacher, she +let me duck under. And we weren't sure about the stroke anyhow. And we +kept getting colder and colder." + +"Oh!" the voice sounded as if suddenly enlightened. "At what time did you +go in?" + +"It was after three, and she waited for you till twenty minutes to five. +Then she said she thought it would be interesting to go up to the orchard +and gather apple-blossoms with rain-drops fresh on the petals. She said +it would be poetic and erratic and a lot of fun. So she went. She said it +would be more like a real genius if she went alone, and so I didn't go +with her. Besides that, she took my umbrella, and it isn't big enough for +two." + +"It is queer that she did not wait longer," commented Berta wonderingly. + +"She said it would be more whimsical and unexpected to stroll off in that +eccentric way. She explained how she is being made over, Mother April, +from the rag-bag of the world; and so she has to be different." + +"I hope that she gets very wet indeed," said Berta, "and I don't see why +I should worry." + +Robbie's voice answered, "Bea worried about you that day last fall when +you went off alone in that storm to find fringed gentians. The branches +were crashing down in the wind, and one girl had seen a tramp out on that +lonely road. You said you could take care of yourself, but we worried." + +"Oh, that was different," exclaimed Berta. "I am perfectly capable of +judging for myself. But Bea is such a scatterbrain that I can't help +feeling"--she hesitated, then added as if to herself, "There isn't any +sense in feeling responsible. She is old enough----" + +"I can't hear when you mumble," called Robbie. + +"Bea is an awful idiot," replied Berta in a louder key. "Did you catch +that valuable bit of information, Robbie Belle?" + +"It sounds," spoke Robbie with unexpected astuteness, "as if you are +really worrying after all." + +"Does it?" groaned Berta; "well, then I am an idiot too." + +She sternly refused to look anxious even when the dressing-gong found the +wanderer still absent in the rain. At six Berta started for the +dining-room, leaving Robbie hovering at Bea's open door with a supply of +hot water, rough towels, dry stockings, and spirits of camphor. In the +leaden twilight of the lower corridor a draggled figure passed with a +sodden drip of heavy skirts and the dull squashing of water in soaked +shoes. + +"Where are the apple-blossoms?" asked Berta in polite greeting as they +met at the elevator. + +"I've b-b-b-been studying b-b-b-bobolinks," Bea's teeth chattered. "It's +original to follow birds in the rain." + +"But"--Berta's eyes snapped, "I myself when I did it I wore a gym suit +and a mackintosh and rubber boots. Of all the idiots!" + +"'O wad some power the giftie gie us,'" chanted Bea's tongue between +clicks, + + "'To see oursels as ithers see us, + It wad fra mony a blunder free us, + And foolish notion.'" + +Then as Berta took a threatening step in her direction, she broke into a +run. "I think I'll take some exercise now," she called back mockingly as +she fled up the stairs. + +At midnight Berta was roused wide awake by an insistent rapping on the +wall between her room and Bea's. Startled at last wide awake, she asked +what was the trouble. Upon receiving no audible reply, she hurried around +through the corridor to the door. She heard the key turned as she grasped +the knob. An instant later she felt Bea sway against her and stand +choking for breath, her hands to her chest. + +"It's croup," she gasped. "The doctor! Run!" + +Berta ran. She ran as she had never run before. Down the endless corridor +and up the stairs, two steps at a time. Then a hail of frantic knocks on +the doctor's door brought her rushing to answer. In four minutes they +were back beside Bea's bed, and the doctor's orders kept Berta flying, +till after a limitless space of horror and struggle she heard dimly from +the distance: "She'll do now." Whereupon Berta sat down quietly in a +chair and fainted. + +The next day was Sunday. Berta carried Bea her breakfast. + +"Good-morning, Beatrice," she said. "I've decided that I am tired of +being a genius." + +"So am I," said Bea. + +"No more poems!" cried Robbie Belle and clapped her hands. "Oh, goodie!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A WAVE OF REFORM + + +Bea did her hair high for the first time in public on the evening of the +Philalethean Reception in her sophomore year. As was to have been +expected, this event of vital importance demanded such careful +preparation that she missed the address in chapel altogether and was late +for the first dance. When at last she really put in an appearance--and a +radiant appearance it was, with cheeks flushed from the ardor of her +artistic labors, she found the revelry in full swing, so to speak. The +corridors and drawing-rooms were thronged with fair daughters and brave +sons. Naturally the daughters were in the majority, most of them fair +with the beauty of youth. The sons were necessarily brave to face the +cohorts of critical eyes that watched them from all sides. + +Two of the critical eyes belonged to Bea as she stood on the stairs for a +few minutes and mourned that her handsomest cousin was not there to +admire her new white crêpe, and also to be admired of the myriad +guestless girls. She caught a glimpse of Lila in rose-colored mull as she +promenaded past with a cadet all to herself. Berta and Robbie were +walking together in the ceaseless procession from end to end of the +second floor corridor, while the orchestra played and the couples whirled +in the big dining-room. They were talking just as earnestly as if they +had not seen each other every day for a year. Bea's dimple twinkled and +she took a step forward under the impulse to join them for the fun of +chaffing them about such polite devotion. + +At that moment Gertrude touched her shoulder. + +"Oh, Beatrice Leigh, have you anybody engaged for this number and the +next? My brother has turned up unexpectedly, and I haven't a single +partner for him. Won't you take care of him while I rush around to fill +his program? Do! There's a dear!" + +"All right," said Bea, "can he talk?" + +"N-no, not much, but you can, and he's awfully easy to entertain. Tell +him about the girls or college life or anything. He's interested in it +all. Will you? Oh, please! There goes Sara now. I've got to catch her +first thing." + +"Bring on the brother," exclaimed Bea magnanimously, "I'll talk to him." + +And she did. Twenty minutes later, when Gertrude in her frantic search +through the shifting crowds explored the farthest group of easy chairs in +senior corridor, she discovered Miss Bea still chattering vivaciously to +a rapt audience of one. + +"I've been telling him about our playing at politics last month," she +paused to explain; "he was interested." + +The brother smiled down at her. "It is certainly a most entertaining +story," he said. + +"Things generally are when Bea tells them," commented Gertrude, "that is +one of her gifts." + +"Oh, thank you!" Bea swept her a curtsey. "But don't hurry. Didn't you +know that I promised him a dance as a reward for listening to my +dissertation on reform. Some day I'll maybe tell you the story." + +This is the story: + +Did Gertrude ever tell you about our playing at politics when we were +sophomores? Possibly you have heard politics defined as present history, +and history as past politics. On that understanding, this tale is a +history. It is the history of a great reform. When I sit down to reflect, +a luxury for which I seldom have time even in vacation, it really seems +to me that I have been reforming all my life. Lila has reformed a good +deal since she entered college, and Berta has been almost as bad as I. +Robbie Belle is the best one among us, but she does not realize it. That +is the reason why she is such a dear. She never preaches--that is, never +unless it is her plain duty as at that time in the north tower, when we +were freshmen, you remember. If she disapproves of any of our schemes, +she simply says she doesn't want to do it. That was what she said when +the rest of us proposed to masquerade as a gang of wardheelers on +election day. + +You know what wardheelers are, I suppose. They are politicians who hang +around the polls and watch the voting and see that people vote for the +right party, or the wrong party, for the matter of that. It all depends +on which side they belong. When they notice anybody going to vote for the +other side, they sort of intimidate him, tell him to get away, or else +push him out of line or punch him in the head or something like that. +Sometimes they stuff the ballot-boxes, too, or go from one poll to +another, voting over and over. + +Now Robbie Belle had joined in with all the other fun that autumn. There +were imitation rallies and parades and receptions to candidates and mock +banquets with real speeches and fudges and crackers to eat. She made a +perfectly splendid presidential candidate at one of the meetings. She +looked ever so much like him too as she sat gravely on the platform with +her hair parted on one side, and a borrowed silk hat clasped to the bosom +of her brother's dress suit. When all at once her face crinkled in a +sudden irresistible smile, even the seniors said she was dear. But this +time she said she'd rather not be a wardheeler. She wouldn't come to a +banquet of the gang the night before election day either. She said she +guessed she didn't want to. + +Berta and Lila and I collected butter and sugar and milk at the dinner +table that evening. In our dormitory we are allowed to carry away bread +and milk to our rooms, but we are not supposed to take sugar or butter +for fudges. That seemed awfully stingy to us then; for in the pantry +there were barrels of sugar, great cans of milk, hundreds and thousands +of little yellow butterballs piled on big platters. We thought it +wouldn't do any harm to use a tiny bit of it all for our banquet. + +At dinner I slid two butterballs into my glass of milk, and Lila filled +her glass with sugar from the bowl and then poured enough milk over it to +hide the grainy look. Robbie Belle kept her eyes in another direction, +but Berta said we had a right to one of the balls anyhow, because she had +not eaten butter all day. Berta is the brightest girl in the class and +she can argue about everything, and let the other person choose her side +of the question first too. It was not until later that she reformed from +that tendency to juggle with her intellect, as Prexie calls it. + +Well, Lila and I marched down the long dining-room, past the seniors and +the faculty table, with our glasses held up in plain sight. As soon as we +reached the corridor in unmolested safety, Lila gave a skip so joyous +that some drops spattered on the floor. + +She said, "Nobody caught us that time." + +"Hush!" I jogged her elbow so that unluckily more milk splashed on the +rubber matting, "there's Martha." + +Martha, you know--or probably you don't know until I tell you--was a +freshman who roomed with Lila and me that year. She was the dearest +little conscientious child with big eyes that were always staring at us +solemnly and giving me the shivers. She appeared to think so much more +than she spoke that we respected her a lot and tried to set her a good +example. + +Martha was waiting for the elevator. She turned around and gazed at us +without saying a word. She is considerably like Robbie Belle in her +exasperating power of silence, but neither of them does it on purpose. + +Unfortunately just then a senior behind her turned around too and said, +"Nobody catches anybody here. This is a college, not a boarding school." + +Now such a remark as that was distinctly unkind, not so much because +either Lila or I had ever been to a boarding school, for we hadn't, as +because we wished we had. We had devoured all the stories about them and +envied the girls in them. We had hoped that we would find some of the +same kind of fun at college itself. + +Lila blushed, and I could not think of any repartee that would be +appropriate, especially as Martha was staring so hard at the glass of +sugar. I had noticed all the fall that she was an odd child about candy. +She never would touch a mouthful of any that we made--and we made it +pretty often--maybe four times a week. She always just shook her head and +said she'd rather not. + +It was a relief to hear the elevator come rattling up from the first +floor. The dining-room is on the second, you see, though I don't know +that this fact has any bearing on the story; still it may supply local +color or realism or something like that. Well, we entered the elevator, +and there stood a junior in the corner. This junior chanced to be an +editor of the college magazine which had offered a ten dollar prize for +the best short story handed in before October twentieth. She glanced at +us and then stared hard at Martha till we had passed the third floor, and +at the fourth she walked out behind us and spoke to Martha. She said, +"Miss Reed, I think I am not premature in congratulating you upon the +story which you submitted in the contest. You will receive official +notice of your victory before very long." And then she smiled the nicest +sweetest smile at sight of Martha's face. It was like a burst of +sunshine--anybody would have smiled. I hugged her--Martha, not the +junior, because I am not well acquainted with her, you understand--but I +wanted to hug everybody. Lila squeezed Martha so hard that she squeaked +out loud. + +"Oh," sighed the little freshman almost to herself, "now I can send +mother a birthday present." + +Wasn't that dear of her to think of giving it away first thing! Of course +some girls would have thought of having a spread to celebrate and invite +in all the crowd; but Martha was only a freshman and probably had no +college spirit as yet. Her remark seemed to remind Lila of something, for +she quite jumped and exclaimed, "Why, you baby, I had forgotten all about +that two dollars and seventy-five cents I borrowed of you last month. And +here it is only the sixth of November, but my allowance is nearly gone. +Why didn't you poke up my memory?" + +"And I owe her ninety cents," said I. + +The little freshman walked on with her hands clasped high up over her +necktie. "Will they give me the prize soon?" she asked softly, "because +the birthday is Thursday, and to-day is Monday, and it takes two days to +get there." + +Lila looked at me and I looked at Lila. "We can scrape it together +somehow," she said. Then she touched Martha on the shoulder. "Do you want +to buy it to-morrow?" she inquired, "because if you do, you shall. We'll +manage it somehow. We'll pay you what we owe, and then you can buy a +present even if the prize doesn't arrive in time." + +"Oh, thank you!" It was strange to see how voluble happiness was making +the child. "Will you really? I've wanted and wanted, but I couldn't ask. +I've got an engagement down town to try on my gymnasium suit to-morrow +afternoon and I shall be so glad. I can mail it then." + +"All right," said I, "we'll get it for you." + +Then we forgot all about it till noon the next day. That was election day +and full of excitement, even if we hadn't been late to breakfast, because +the fudges kept us awake the night before. Martha had gone into her room +early to study. Though she had closed the door I am afraid the girls made +a lot of noise; and she woke up with a headache. Of course Berta and I +and the others had a right to cut late if we wanted to do so, but we +didn't mean to keep anybody from working. + +Martha returned from breakfast just as I was catching together a tiny +hole in my stocking above the shoe. It wasn't really my stocking, for I +had lost mine by sending them unmarked to the laundry, and so I had +borrowed these from Martha. They were her finest best ones, I believe, +and very nice, though her clothes generally seemed shabby. This morning +she told us to hurry down please, because the maid was feeling miserable. +We did hurry and tried not to complain of the cold cocoa or the tough +steak, though it is certainly the maid's duty to get fresh hot things no +matter how late the girls are. She couldn't find our favorite crescent +rolls in the pantry or down-stairs in the bakery or anywhere. Before we +were through eating, the other maids had cleared away their breakfast +dishes and had their tables all set for luncheon. Our maid was naturally +slow, I suspect. + +After breakfast we had barely time to smooth the counterpanes over sheets +and blankets that lay in wrinkles. They looked pretty well on top, but +honestly I was relieved to have Martha and her big eyes out of the way. +Though we snatched our books and ran through the corridors we were two +minutes tardy in reaching the Latin room. The instructor was so irritable +that she laid down her book and the whole class waited while Lila and I +tiptoed to our seats in the middle of the last row. + +With all the campaign excitement of course we had let our work get +crowded out, and the other girls appeared to be in the same fix. When the +most dazzling star in the class flunked on a grammatical reference, the +instructor bit her lip and sent the question flying up one row and down +another as fast as the students could shake their heads. As it came +leaping nearer and nearer to us, Lila remembered a college story about a +girl sliding from her place and kneeling behind the seat in front till +the question had passed on over the vacant spot. Lila was so agitated +that she forgot how conspicuous we had been in entering late. She slipped +out of her seat and hid like the girl in the story. Then fell an awful +stillness. The question stopped right there, hovering over the empty +place. Everybody waited. The instructor set her mouth in grimmer lines, +and waited, her eyes glued to the spot from where Lila had vanished. +Those in front turned around to look. Lila knelt there waiting and +waiting for the question to be passed on to me. I shook my head as +vigorously as I dared, but nobody paid any attention. Lila waited and +waited; the instructor waited; everybody waited and waited, till Lila's +knees ached so that she lifted her face and peeked. She peeked straight +into those grim waiting eyes on the platform. + +Then the instructor said, "Miss Allan?" with the usual dreadful +interrogative inflection, and Lila shook her head. She slid back into her +seat with her cheeks as red as fire. + +The minute we escaped into the hall at the end of the recitation, the +girls gathered around us and giggled and teased Lila till she almost +broke down and cried before them all. There is a lot of difference +between playing jokes on another person and appearing ridiculous +yourself. The first few weeks of the year we had teased Martha by telling +her it was etiquette for freshmen to rise when addressed by sophomores +and stuff like that. The little thing was so unsophisticated that we made +up yards and yards of stories about the dangers of going walking alone or +being out after dusk. One student really did have her purse snatched last +year, and a senior saw a masked robber in the pines, and once a maid +caught a glimpse of a face outside her window, and actually one evening +six of us beheld with our own eyes a man jump through the hedge. + +On this particular morning I had no time to waste, for my tutor in +mathematics had warned me that she intended to charge me for the hour for +which I had engaged her, no matter whether I arrived on the scene or not. +That struck me as queer and rather mean, because on some days I did not +feel like going, and I failed to see why I should pay her for tutoring +that I had not received. She said that her time was valuable and an hour +squandered in waiting for a delinquent pupil was so much loss. I guess it +was a loss to me too. + +While I was flying around, trying to find my notes and pen, I heard a +gulp and a sob from Martha's bedroom, and popped in to find her with her +head buried in the pillow. The little idiot was crying because she had +flunked in English. + +"Oh, but English is so easy to bluff in!" I exclaimed, "almost any string +of words will do if the teacher asks for a discussion of a tendency or of +nature or vocabulary or poetic form or something. Didn't you make a try +at some sort of an answer?" + +"I said I didn't know," sobbed Martha, "and I didn't. My thoughts were +all mixed up and I couldn't remember a line." + +"You goosie!" I was disgusted. "If I said I didn't know at every +opportunity where I could say it truthfully, how long do you think I +would be allowed to stay in this institution of learning? When I don't +know a fact, I use fancy. It is the greatest fun to catch a hint and +elaborate it into a brilliant recitation without a jot of knowledge to +back it up. It takes brains to do it. You've got to learn to bluff, and +then get along without studying." + +The little freshman raised her heavy eyes, all reddened about the lids. +"Oh, but that isn't honest," she said. + +"Not honest?" For an instant I was actually alarmed. Once when I myself +was a freshman I nearly lost my faith in human nature because a senior +whom I admired did something that looked dishonest. But sending +valentines to yourself in order to win a prize is different from +bluffing. So I said, "Nonsense!" and was just hurrying out of the door +when she called in a quivery voice: "P-please, may I borrow a sheet of +theme paper? Mine's all gone and I can't buy--I mean, it's due to-night." + +"Help yourself," I answered, "there's a heap of it that I carried away +from the last German test. Right hand drawer of the desk." + +"No, no! I can't take that. Haven't you any that you bought with your own +money? I'll pay it back. That paper--they gave it to you--didn't they +give it to you just for the test?" + +I stopped and walked over to feel of her head and tell her that she ought +to see the doctor or take a nap or something. Then I gave her three +sheets of the paper and told her not to be silly. I don't know whether +she used it or not. At luncheon she appeared with her fingers inky and +her hat on. + +Berta said, "Whither, my child?" + +She answered, "Down town." And then she looked at Lila with such anxious +eyes that I jumped and clapped my hands together in contrition. + +"Lila, we've forgotten to get that money for her!" + +Martha turned her face toward me and sat gazing like a little dog. We +asked all the girls at the table for contributions, but they were nearly +penniless. I said, "Are you in a hurry, Martha?" And she said she had to +be there at two o'clock. So we told her to hurry on, and we would get the +money somewhere and meet her on the corner of Main and Market Streets at +quarter past four sharp. She said, "Honest?" And I answered, "Yes, trust +me. We'll be there, and I'll stand treat for soda water, if I can scrape +up any extra pennies. You run along and pick out your present." + +And then, do you know, in spite of all that and our promise to meet her, +we forgot every bit about it till half-past four! You see, it was +election day, and we were frightfully busy. After the fifth hour +recitation we hurried into the ragged blue overalls that we had worn in +one of the torchlight parades. Lila punched up the crown of an old felt +alpine hat, and I battered my last summer's sailor till it looked +disreputable enough. Then we rushed over to the gymnasium to join our +gang of wardheelers. + +We found the judges sitting at bare tables with their lists before them +and wooden booths along the walls. And then--oh, I can't do justice to +the fun we had! Some of us hung around outside and tried to scare away +opposing voters by telling how the judges might make them sing scales or +slide down ropes or wipe off their smiles on the carpets or chant the +laundry list or write their names in ink with their noses, if they should +be challenged. We actually succeeded in frightening away several timid +freshmen. The rest of the gang pretended to stuff ballot-boxes and buy +votes, just as we had read in the papers. + +Berta, Lila and I voted while wearing our overalls. Then we dashed back +to our rooms and dressed in our ordinary clothes and attempted to vote a +second time. Such fun! The judges recognized us and refused to accept our +ballots. Such an uproar as we raised! The other wardheelers stormed to +the rescue; the lists were scattered, and the tables overturned. Of +course it was only a joke, and most of us were too weak from laughing to +clear away the disorder in time for the polls to close promptly. + +And then we happened to remember Martha. + +There it was half-past four and it would certainly be five before we +could get ready and catch the car and reach the corner of Main and +Market. So we let it go and decided that she would be tired of waiting by +that time and start for home, and we might most likely miss her anyhow, +even if we should collect the money and try to keep the engagement. And +besides that we were having such a picnic telling about the turmoil at +the polls that we hated to waste a minute away from the scene. Berta had +a splendid idea about dressing up as policemen and borrowing the express +wagon belonging to the janitor's grandson, and then tearing over to the +gym as if we had been summoned to arrest the hoodlums and take them to +jail in the patrol. It was so late, however, that we had to give this +plan up and get ready for dinner. It was a dreadful disappointment. + +Martha hadn't come yet. It was half-past five and dark, and then it was +quarter of six, and then it was six, and we went down to dinner, but she +hadn't come yet. And then it was half-past six, and we went down the +avenue to the Lodge to watch the car unload, but no Martha. We danced in +parlor J for a while, and then we went to chapel at seven, but she hadn't +come yet. And then we walked down to the Lodge again and watched three +cars stop and turn around the curve, one after another, but she wasn't in +any of them. And then we went back to tell Mrs. Howard, the lady +principal, about it. And she was awfully anxious and asked all sorts of +questions about Martha, and what kind of a girl she was, and if she had +any money with her, or any friends in town, or any peculiar habits about +running away from her friends, or any trouble lately or anything. + +Then she began to telephone and went to see Prexie, and Lila and I +wandered out to the stairs above the bulletin board where the students +were waiting to hear the election returns. Between the successive +telegrams the girls clapped and laughed and stamped and hissed at +speeches by the seniors and juniors, or else they sang patriotic songs. + +When Miss Benton, president of the Students' Association, the greatest +honor in the college course, and she is the finest senior in the class +too--was urged upon a chair to make a speech, Lila almost pushed me +through the banisters in her excitement. She has admired Miss Benton ever +since the first day when it rained, and we were so terribly homesick, and +she smiled at us in the corridor. + +"Hush!" whispered Lila, "listen! Isn't she beautiful!" + +"Ouch!" said I, "she isn't beautiful, she's downright plain with her hair +smoothed back that way." But I said it pretty low, because that staircase +banked with girls was no place for distinctly enunciated personalities. +It was a humorous speech, for one reason of Miss Benton's popularity is +her fun under a dignified manner. In the middle of the cheering after she +had finished, the messenger girl appeared with a new bulletin. Somebody +read it aloud so that we could all hear. It reported the victory of the +corrupt party machine in an important city. Nobody spoke. There was just +the faint sound of a big sighing oh-h-h! and then a hush. + +The next thing I knew, Miss Benton and some other seniors were coming up +the stairs, and the girls were moving this way and that to open a path +for them. Lila crowded closer to me so as to make way. A junior on the +step below reached up her hand and stopped Miss Benton as she was +passing. + +"Do wait for the next telegram, Mary," she said, "perhaps that will be +more encouraging. The country as a whole seems to be going right." + +Miss Benton dropped down beside her with an awfully discouraged sort of a +sigh. "You don't live there, and I do," she said. "You do not know how +the reform party has worked with soul and strength to defeat that boss. +Something is terribly wrong with the citizens and their standards of +honesty. How could they? How could they?" + +The junior bent nearer to speak in lower tones; but Lila and I could not +help hearing. "Mary, something is wrong with us too," she whispered. "Did +you know that to-day at our mock election some of the sophomores +pretended to be corrupt voters and wardheelers? They intimidated voters, +challenged registrations, played at buying votes, tried to stuff the +ballot-boxes. There was a most disgraceful scrimmage! To turn such crimes +into a joke! How could they? How could we?" + +Miss Benton straightened herself with a movement that was sorrowful and +angry and discouraged all at once. She drew a deep breath. + +"I will tell you what is wrong with us as well as with the entire +country. Our ideal of honesty is wrong. With us here at college the +trouble is in little things; with the world of business and politics the +evil is in great matters too. But the principle is the same. We are not +honest. We condemn graft in public office. Is it not also graft when a +student helps herself to examination foolscap and takes it for private +use? Is the girl who carries away sugar from the table any better than +the government employee who misappropriates funds or supplies in his +charge? We cry out in horror at revelations of bribery. Ah, but in our +class elections do we vote for the candidate who will best fill the +office, or for our friends? I have known a girl who desired to be +president of the Athletic Association to bargain away her influence to +another who was running for an editorship." + +"And some of us travel on passes which are made out in other names." + +Miss Benton did not hear. "We exclaim--we point our fingers--we groan +over the trickery of officials, scandals, bribery, treachery, +lawlessness. And yet we--is it honest to bluff in recitations--to lay +claim to knowledge which we do not possess? Is it honest to injure a +library book and not pay for the damage? Is it honest to neglect to +return borrowed property? Some of us rob the maids of strength by +obliging them to work overtime in waiting on us at the table. Our lack of +punctuality steals valuable time from tutors and teachers and each other. +We cheat the faculty by slighting our opportunities and thus making their +life work of inferior quality to that which they have a right to expect. +By heedless exaggeration we may murder a reputation--mutilate an +existence. We wrong each other by being less than our best. We are +unscrupulous about breaking promises. Down town this afternoon at the +corner of Main and Market Streets I saw a freshman waiting in the cold. +She was walking to and fro to get warm. Her teeth chattered,--she was +crying from nervous suspense. When I spoke to her and advised her to +return to college before dark, she shook her head, and said no, somebody +had promised to meet her, and she had to stay. Now that girl, whoever it +was, who broke that engagement, is responsible----" + +I leaned forward and clutched Miss Benton's shoulder. + +"She hasn't come back yet," I cried; "do you think she is there still? I +forgot--I thought it didn't matter. I didn't mean to--" + +Miss Benton turned around her head to look up at me, and the others near +us looked too, and down at the foot of the stairs the crowd packed in +front of the bulletin board sort of quieted for a minute and seemed to be +listening and watching us. And up on the wall over their heads the big +clock went tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and its long pendulum swung +to and fro. + +Then swish, swish, swish, the lady principal came hurrying through the +reception hall beyond, with her silk skirts rustling, and her face quite +pale. And the girls turned their heads toward her. She raised her hand +and said in her soft voice: "Are Miss Martha Reed's roommates here?" + +And then some more girls with their hats and coats on came running up the +steps from the vestibule. The crowd was buzzing like everything when Lila +and I pushed our way through to tell Mrs. Howard we were there. We caught +scraps of sentences flying hither and thither. + +"Run over?" + +"Lying in the road----" + +"Who found her?" + +"Yes, right there in the loneliest part." + +"Such a timid little thing----" + +"Frightened and fell maybe----" + +"Queer she didn't take the car." + +"Is she dead?" + +Lila pushed ahead, thrusting the girls right and left from her path. I +couldn't see her face, but her shoulders kept pumping up and down as if +she were smothering. You know she's more sensitive than I am, and I felt +badly enough. + +Mrs. Howard took her hand and said, "Miss Reed wishes to see you both and +leave a message." + +Of course such a speech would make anybody think she was dying. I rubbed +my sleeve across my eyes and shut my teeth together and swallowed once, +for the other girls around were gazing after us. Lila walked on with her +head up. I couldn't see anything but the line of her cheek, and that +looked sort of cold and stony. We followed on over the thick rugs into +the second reception room. There sitting in a big chair, leaning back +against a cushion kind of limp and pale but not dead at all--there was +Martha. + +"Did you get the money?" she asked. + +Lila didn't answer. She just dropped on her knees and hid her face +against Martha's dress. + +"It was a centerpiece I thought Mother would like. I chose it in the +shop-window there at the corner while I was waiting. Maybe it will get +there almost in time if it is mailed to-morrow, but the doctor says I +must go to the infirmary for a day or two. If you would please send it +away for me in the morning--if you have the money to buy it, Lila,--I'm +sorry." + +The doctor walked in alert and brusque as usual but gentle too. + +"Now for my captive," she said, "time's up. Life in a study with two +sophomores is hard on a freshman's nerves. A few days of the rest-cure +will about suit you." + +Martha glanced at me, for Lila was still hiding her face. + +"It was silly of me," she explained shyly, "but I grew so nervous when +you didn't meet me that I cried and that made it worse. I watched every +car and both sides of the street, and I waited till after dark. You see, +I didn't have any money for car-fare. After they began to light the +lamps, I started to walk out here to the college. Everybody was eating +supper, and I was all alone on the road with dark fields on both sides. I +could not help thinking of those dreadful robbers and maniacs and +tramps----" + +"What?" cried the doctor. + +I drew a deep breath. "We told her," I said. "I--I'm afraid we +exaggerated. I--I thought it would be more interesting." + +"Oh!" said the doctor. It was such a grim sort of an oh that I repented +some more, though indeed it was not necessary. + +Martha smiled at me. I always did consider her the dearest, most +sympathetic little thing. "It was my fault," she said, "I am such a +coward anyhow. And then when I ran past a rock, I imagined I saw +something move and jump toward me. I lost my wits and ran and ran and ran +till I twisted my ankle and fell. I must have struck my head on a stone. +I'm sorry. It was silly of me to run. Please don't worry." + +"That will do for the present," said the doctor. + +Then they carried her over to the infirmary. Lila and I walked out past +the crowd in front of the bulletin board. They were cheering. + +"Listen, Lila," I said, "good news from somewhere." + +"We promised to meet her," said Lila. + +I hate regrets. "Well," I said, "that's all over and done with. There is +no use in bothering about it now. But the next promise we make----" + +Berta rushed up to us. "Oh, girls!" she exclaimed, "did you catch that +last return? Reform is sweeping the country. Hurrah!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FOUR SOPHOMORES AND A DOG + + +The last recitation of the winter term was over, and the corridors were +alive with girls hurrying this way and that, pinning on their hats, +buttoning jackets, crowding into the elevator, unfurling umbrellas, and +chattering all the time. + +"Hope you'll have the nicest sort of a time!" "Don't stay up too late!" +"Good-bye!" "Oh, good-bye!" "Be sure to get well rested this vacation!" +"Awfully, awfully sorry you wouldn't come home with me, Gertrude, you bad +child! But I know you won't suffer from monotony with Berta and Beatrice +in the same study." "Hurry, girls, there's the car now. Just hear that +bell jingle, will you!" "Good-bye, Gertrude, and don't let Sara work too +hard!" "Oh, good-bye!" + +Gertrude felt the clutch of arms relax from about her neck, and managed +to breathe again. This was one of the penalties--pleasant enough, +doubtless, if a person were in the mood for it--of being a popular +sophomore. For a minute she lingered wearily in the vestibule to watch +the figures flying down the avenue to the Lodge gates. How their skirts +fluttered and twisted around them, and how their hats danced! Their +suit-cases bounded and bumped as they ran, and their umbrellas churned up +and down in choppy billows before the boisterous March wind. There! the +last one had vanished in a whirl of flapping ends and lively angles +beyond the dripping evergreens. + +As she was turning languidly away, a backward glance espied two girls +emerging from one of the dormitories far across the flooded lawn. They +came skipping over the narrow planks that had been laid in the rivers +flowing along the curving walks. The first was Berta swathed in a hooded +waterproof; and the second, of course, was Beatrice, a tam flung askew on +her red curls, her arms thrust through a coat sleeve or two, a laundry +bag swinging from one elbow, and a tin fudge pan clasped tenderly and +firmly beneath the other, while with the hands so providentially left +free she stooped at every third step to rescue one or the other of her +easy-fitting rubbers from setting out on a watery voyage all by itself. + +"Hi!" she gasped after a final shuffling dash, as she caught sight of +immaculate Gertrude, "I wore your overshoes. Hope you don't mind. They're +not very wet inside, and I brought over your things so that we can move +into our borrowed study right off now." + +"Where are my things?" asked Gertrude with natural curiosity and perhaps +unnatural calm. + +"Here," jerking the laundry bag, "it holds a lot--brushes, soap, +nightgown, toothpowder, fountain-pen, note-book, everything. Berta +carried your mending basket. You needn't bother one bit." + +"I'll run back and forth for anything you want," volunteered Berta +hastily at sight of an irritable frown on the usually serene brow of +handsome Gertrude. + +"You're cross!" commented Bea with a cheerful vivacity that was +exasperating to the highest degree, considering that everybody ought to +be worn down to an unobtrusive state of limp inertia after the three busy +months just concluded, "you've been cross ever since Sara----" + +"Berta, lend me your gossamer and rubbers, please," when Gertrude was +unreasonably provoked she had a habit of snapping out her words even more +clear-cut than usual. An instant later she swept forth into the rain only +to stop short and hurry in again before the door had swung shut. "We +might as well look at the study first," she said in a more gracious tone, +"and we can draw lots to see who is to have the inside bedroom. I dare +say the change to this building will be a rest." + +Berta took quick survey from the window to explore the cause for this +amazing wavering of purpose. + +"Ah!" she murmured in swift enlightenment, "it's Sara. She's coming over +the path." + +A peculiar expression flitted across Bea's ingenuous face--an expression +half quizzical, half sorry. "Then we'd better follow Gertrude's example, +and clear the track. She'll cut us dead again--that meek little mouse of +a girl! And I don't blame her for it either, so there!" + +Berta tucked a pensive skip in between steps as they moved through the +gloomy corridor past rain-beaten windows. "It wasn't like Gertrude to +burst out like that just because Sara came late to our domestic evening, +but it did spoil the fudges and the game and everything." + +"And not to give her a chance to explain!" fumed Bea's temper always +ready to flame over any injustice. "Before she could open her lips, +Gertrude blazed up, cold as an icicle----" + +"What?" interpolated demure Berta with her most deeply shocked accent, +"an icicle blaze?" + +"Oh, hush, you're the most disagreeable person! I wish Lila hadn't gone +home. Well, she did just that. She said the artistic temperament was no +excuse for discourteous falsehood--or she almost the same as said +it--meaning breaking your word, you know, for Sara had promised she would +come at eight, and there it was quarter to nine. She said that it might +be wiser next time to invite somebody more reliable about keeping +engagements. Sara did not answer a word--only went white as a sheet and +walked out of the room. Now she even cuts us--because we were +there--stares right over our heads when we meet her anywhere." + +"I'm sure Gertrude was sorry the minute she had spoken. And she's been +working awfully hard over committees and the maids' classes and the last +play. She was tired and nervous up to the brim, and then to wait and wait +and wait for Sara. Why, I was getting cross myself." + +"Well, why doesn't she beg Sara's pardon then, and make it all right?" +demanded the young judge severely. "Sara has always simply worshiped her, +but because she never has made mistakes nor learned how to apologize, and +everybody admires her and flatters her, she is too proud to say she was +wrong. It's plain vanity--that's what it is. She can't bear to make +herself do it." + +"She's unhappy,--that's what I think, though she sort of pretends she +doesn't care." + +"She's cross as a bear--that's what I think," snapped Bea, "and Sarah has +dark circles under her eyes. It's dreadful--those two girls who used to +be inseparable! Quarrels are--are horrible!" The impetus of this +conviction almost succeeded in hurling its proprietor against the water +cooler at the bathroom door. "Say, Berta, what if you and I should +quarrel, with Robbie Belle and Lila one thousand miles away?" + +"I'm too amiable," responded Berta complacently, "sugar is sweet----" + +The tin cup dropped with a flurried rattle against the fudge pan. "Oh!" a +shriek of dismay, "my dear young and giddy friend, we're all out of +sugar. What if we should want to make anything to-night? Let's run back +to the grocery by the kitchen this minute." + +Owing to this delay, Gertrude had been in the study for more than ten +minutes, staring out at the trees writhing in the wind, when she was +startled by the sound of a suffocated shriek, followed by a scamper of +four thick-soled shoes, the heels smiting the corridor floor with +disgracefully mannish force. The door flew inward vehemently, and Bea +shot clear across the room to collapse in the farthest corner, hiding her +face in the fudge pan while her shoulders quivered and heaved +terrifyingly. Berta walked in behind her, and after one reproachful look, +sat down carefully in a rocker and brushed her scarlet face before +beginning to giggle helplessly. + +"You're the meanest person! Beatrice Leigh, you knew I was turning into +the wrong alleyway, but you never said a word. You wanted to see me +disgraced. The door opened like magic, and there she stood as if she had +slid through the keyhole. She stood there plastered against the wall +and--and--regarded us----" + +"Oh!" moaned Bea in ecstasy, one fiery ear and half a cheek emerging from +the kindly shelter of the fudge pan, "she glared. She wondered why those +two idiotic individuals were stalking toward her without a word or knock +or smile, when suddenly the hinder one exploded and vanished, while the +other ignominiously--stark, mute, inglorious--fled, ran, withdrew--so to +speak----" + +"Why didn't you say something?" groaned Berta. "I simply lost my wits +from the surprise. She was the very last person I expected to see +anywhere around here. How in the world did she happen to borrow the next +room to ours? She'll think we were making fun of her--that we did it on +purpose. She's awfully sensitive anyhow!" + +"Well, you two are silly!" commented Gertrude, her face again toward the +driving storm. "Who was it? Not a senior, I hope, or a faculty?" + +Bea straightened herself abruptly, the laughter driven sternly out of +every muscle except one little twitching dimple at the corner of her +mouth. "It was Sara," she exclaimed, "and she is pale as a ghost. She has +never been so strong since waking up on that boat and finding a burglar +trying to steal the ring off her finger during the holidays. You know how +she jumps at every sudden noise, and she's been getting thinner and +thinner, and I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself clear down to +the ground." Here the dimple vanished in earnest. "I know I'm ashamed of +myself, and so's Berta. Even her lips were white. Now we've hurt her +feelings worse. I didn't think. Nice big splendid excuse for a sophomore, +isn't it?" + +"There's the gong for luncheon," was Gertrude's only reply as she moved +toward the door. + +Bea's flare of denunciation had subsided quickly in her characteristic +manner. She sat absently nibbling the handle of the obliging pan, while +staring after the receding figure, its girlish slenderness stiffened as +if to warn away all friendliness. "She's stubborner than ever. I say, +Berta, let's reconcile them." + +"Oh, let's!" in echoing enthusiasm, adding as the beauty of the plan +glowed brighter, "they'll probably thank us to the last day that they +live. I know I would, if it were Robbie and I who were drifting farther +and farther apart." + +"Very likely," responded the arch-conspirator, beginning at the lower +edge of the tin doubtless itself delicious from long association with +dainties, "but the question is: How are we going to do it? One is proud, +and the other is proud too. I don't see exactly how we can fix it." + +As Berta did not see either, they decided with considerable sound sense +meanwhile to go to luncheon. The next day after many minutes of +discouraging meditation mingled with a few hours of tennis in the +gymnasium, an idea came to them. While they rested on the window ledge, +watching Gertrude stroll to and fro in the sunshine balmy at last, Bea +began to waste her breath as usual. + +"'To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow drags out its weary course from +day to day,'" she quoted with mindless cheerfulness, only to interrupt +herself good naturedly, "say, Berta, do you realize that the third +to-morrow aforementioned is April Fool's Day? I wish something +interesting would happen. This is the most monotonous place in vacation." + +"To-morrow never is, it always will be," corrected the carping critic. + +Bea with indifference born of long endurance paid no attention. "I say!" +rapturously as the idea began to dawn upon her inward vision, "let's +reconcile them with a joke." + +"All right," agreed her partner with most charming alacrity, "what joke?" + +The question was rather a poser, as Bea was inclined to take only one +step at a time and utter one thought as it obligingly arrived, without +anxiety about the next. This tendency had occasionally landed her high +and dry on the shores of nothingness in the classroom. + +"Oh, um-m-m, I haven't determined that point yet. It isn't only great +minds that move slowly." Gertrude's cape swung into view at the turn of +the walk. "Berta, she looks awfully lonesome, doesn't she?" + +"Well," argued the other, "nobody can expect us to do all the tagging +around ourselves, especially where a contemporary is concerned. If she +wants us to walk with her, she might omit a few snubs now and then. I'm +tired of chasing after her." + +"The trouble is that you are not a faithful friend, faithful friend," +rattled Bea, "man's faithful friend, the dog. Oh, oh, oh, Berta, I have +an idea!" + +"Noble girl!" Berta patted her on the head. "I generously refrain from +comment." + +"Thank you, sweetheart. I feared you could not deny yourself that remark +about keeping my idea, as I might never get another. But this one is an +idea about a dog. Let's find a puppy to give Gertrude for a soothing +companion this vacation. I love puppies." + +"The question is: does Gertrude also love puppies? Or is it a joke?" + +"Let's get a dog and surprise her with it April Fool's morning. He will +be such a friendly little fellow and so faithful that her conscience will +sting her----" + +"I must acknowledge that you are a humane, tender-hearted individual. To +plot a stinging conscience----" + +"Oh, hush, Berta! Do be nice and agreeable. I'm awfully tired this week, +and I really need some distraction. The corridors stretch out empty and +silent, and breakfast doesn't taste good at all, and--and I want to do +something for Sara." + +"Oh, all right!" Berta spied the glint of an excitable tear and shrugged +the weight of common sense from her shoulders. "I'm with you." + +Three days passed--three days of blue sky and fluffy clouds and air that +sent Bea dancing from end to end of the long stone wall while Berta +stumped conceitedly along the path in her new rubber boots. Gertrude +wondered aloud why two presumably intelligent young women insisted upon +spending every morning in foolish journeys over muddy country roads. +Noting an unaccustomed accent of peevishness in the energetic voice, +Berta began to worry a bit over the likelihood that such petulance was +due to impending sickness. Bea jeered at this, though with covert side +glances to detect any signs of fever. In her secret soul, where she hid +the notions which she dimly felt looked best in the dark, she reflected +that an attack of some mild disease might be a valuable form of +retribution, and also afford the invalid leisure to repent of her sins. +Still she did not quite like to mention this thought aloud, as it seemed +too unkindly vengeful with regard to any one so obviously miserable as +Gertrude. + +One day on charitable plans intent the two conspirators dragged Gertrude +out across the brown fields to have fun building a bonfire, as they had +done the previous spring. But somehow the expedition was not much of a +success--possibly because the wood was too damp to burn inspiritingly. On +that other occasion Sara had been with them, and had kept them laughing. +She could say the funniest things without stirring a muscle of her small +solemn face. That stump speech of hers given from a genuine stump had +sent them actually reeling home. This year--alas!--while returning to +college rather silently, they saw Sara plodding toward them with an air +of being out for sober exercise, not pleasure. The moment she spied them, +she deliberately retraced her steps, and vanished through a hole in the +hedge. This incident set Gertrude to chattering so excitedly about +nothing in particular that the others knew she cared even more than they +had fancied. + +On the evening of the last day of March, Bea and Berta came rushing into +the dining-room twenty minutes late for dinner. When they both declared +that they did not want any soup--their favorite kind, too--Gertrude +sighed impatiently over countermanding her order to the maid. It seemed +as if she were not getting rested one bit this vacation, though she did +nothing but read novels all day long. She felt sometimes as if she were +hurrying every minute to escape from herself and her own thoughts. +Everything irritated her in the strangest way. In all her busy healthful +life she had never been nervous before. It was not hard work that had +worn upon her. The doctor told them when they were freshmen that no girl +ever broke down from work unless worry was added. Gertrude knew perfectly +well what torturing little worry was gnawing away in her mind. She kept +telling herself that her speech to Sara had been true--it was so--Sara +had broken her engagement--and she could not, could not, could not humble +herself to apologize. In fact, Sara was the one who ought to offer +apologies. And all this time wilful Gertrude refused to acknowledge even +to herself that she was juggling with her conscience in the desperate +determination to hold herself free from blame in her own esteem. She +simply could not beg anybody's pardon, and she was not going to do it, +because--well, because she had not been to blame--so there! + +On this particular evening, after five solid minutes of silence on the +part of her exasperating roommates, she raised her heavy eyes, and let +them rest expressionlessly on the two wind-freshened faces, till Bea's +roses blossomed to her hair. + +"We're not doing anything," rebelliously, "you are so boss-y." + +"Moo-oo," muttered Berta to her plate. "Bow-wow-wow." Bea choked over her +glass and fled precipitately, leaving her partner to capture a pitcher of +milk ostensibly to drink before going to bed. + +Of course they would have regretted missing dessert as well as soup, if +Gertrude had not asked permission to carry some of the whipped cream to +her room. It was easier to do something unnecessarily generous than to +beg Sara's pardon--which was merely plain hard duty. The girls were not +in the study when she entered with her offering, but soon Bea dashed in +and dropped breathlessly on the couch, with a conspicuous effort to act +as if accustomed to arrive without her present double. Gertrude listened +unsuspiciously to the flurried explanation that Berta was kept by +a--a--a--friend, before she revealed the brimming trophy from dessert. + +Bea clapped her hands. "Oh, you darling! the very thing! Won't that +pup"--an abrupt and convulsive cough subsided brilliantly into, "that pet +of a Berta be pleased! I'll take it to her this instant." + +However, she did not invite Gertrude to accompany her, and upon her +return after a prolonged absence, she conducted herself with odd +restlessness. In the intervals of suggesting that they put up an engaged +sign or read aloud or darn stockings or play patience before going to a +certain spread, she stared at the clock. Promptly at eight she escaped +from the door, near which she had been lingering for the past +quarter-hour, with the carefully distinct announcement that she was going +after Berta, and later she might attend the spread. + +Five minutes later she was bending over a fluffy little creature nestling +on Gertrude's best pillow in one of the partitioned off bathrooms at the +end of the corridor. + +"He's been pretty good," said Berta as she surrendered the spoon, "and he +likes the cream, only the bubbles in it keep him awake, I think. Somebody +hammered at the door so long that I had to stuff a lot into his mouth +every time he started to cry." + +Bea assumed her station of nurse with businesslike briskness. "Hurry back +to Gertrude, and coax her to go to that spread if you can. She's terribly +blue to-night. Be sure to get back here at nine, and I will take my turn +at the party so that nobody will be too curious about this affair. At ten +we shall both be here to decide about the night." + +"Then we can hook the door on the inside, and climb over the partition. +Won't it be fun! I wonder if I shouldn't better practice doing it now," +and Berta looked longingly at the black walnut precipice. + +"You trot along this instant, and don't let Gertrude suspect anything for +the world. Be just as natural as you know how--more than ever before in +your life. I reckon I shall put him to sleep in a jiffy." + +"Try it," called the ex-nurse with laconic scorn, "I'll allow you the +full hour for the experiment." + +It must have been a very full hour indeed, to judge from Bea's feelings +as the minutes dawdled past. It seemed to her that instead of flying with +their sixty wings, according to the rhyme, each minute trailed its +feathers in the dust as it shuffled along. At first, it was amusing to +watch for the mouth to open, and then pop in a spoonful of cream. But +this soon became monotonous, especially when she learned that no matter +how long she sat motionless beside the pillow, the bright little eyes +blinked wide awake at her slightest stir to rise. + +It was lonesome in that end of the great building. Their suite and Sara's +room next to it were the only ones occupied in that neighborhood during +the vacation. This bathroom was as much as forty steps distant even from +that populated spot, and not a single footfall had sounded in the +corridor since Berta had disappeared into the gloom. The light from the +outer apartment glimmered dully over the partition. At intervals in the +stillness, a drop of water clinked from the faucet out there. Bea found +herself holding her breath to listen for the tinkle of its splash. +Outside the small window, a pale moon was drifting among fluffy clouds. + +More than once Bea rose with exquisite caution, and stole to the outer +door, only to hear a plaintive whine, while four clumsy paws came +pattering after her. Then followed more minutes of soothing him with +cream, and watching for the little woolly sides to cease heaving so +piteously. Perhaps after all it would have been wiser to have left this +troublesome joke with his mother on the farm. + +By the time this vague suggestion had wavered into her consciousness, the +strain of waiting and listening began to re-act on her temper. Of course, +Berta had forgotten all about her watching there alone in the dark. Berta +was selfish and thoughtless and heedless. That very afternoon, while they +were bringing the puppy to college, she had almost tipped the buggy over +into a puddle. Berta had no right to impose upon her like this, and make +her do the worst part of the work every time. Why, even when they went +calling together, Bea always had to do the knocking and walk in first and +manage the conversation and everything. And now Berta was having fun at +the spread, and it must be near ten o'clock, for the watchman had already +shuffled softly past and turned the gas still lower. And she knew her +foot was going to sleep, and she could never feel the same toward Berta +Abbott again. + +Bea was so sorry for herself that her lip began to quiver over a sobbing +breath, when steps came hurrying helter-skelter, the door banged open, +and Berta dived in. + +"Oh, Bea, I'm dreadfully sorry! I couldn't get away before. They held +me--actually--and made me jig for them, and sing that last song I wrote. +The preserved ginger was so delicious that I saved some for you. Nobody +suspects a thing. How is the little dear?" + +Bea rose with impressive dignity till the straightening of numb muscles +inspired an agonized, "Ouch!" and a stiff wriggle. It was every bit +Berta's fault, and she evidently didn't care a snap. She would show +people whether they could walk all over her and never say boo! She would +not lose her temper--oh, no! she would not utter a word--not a single one +of all the scorching things she could think of. She would just be +dignified and self-possessed and teach certain persons that she did not +intend to be imposed upon one instant longer. Therefore, Miss Beatrice +Leigh flung open the door and stalked away without a backward glance. + +"Hulloa!" ejaculated Berta, staring blankly after her, "what's your +rush?" + +No answer; merely a somewhat more defiant swing of the slender shoulders +vanishing in the dusk of the deserted corridor. + +"What shall we do with the dog? You borrowed him--you're responsible--it's +your idea," following in a puzzled flurry as far as the threshold. "Shall +I lock him in alone? I said all along it was silly." + +Those insolent shoulders sailed silently around the transverse and out of +sight. + +After a petrified moment, Berta drew a deep breath, and threw back her +head while the crimson of quick resentment flamed from neck to hair. That +was a nice way to be treated, when she had simply done her best not to +arouse suspicion, exactly as Bea had warned her. She took two steps +hastily away from the spot; then turned slowly and glanced in at the soft +heap of white showing dimly on the darker blur of the pillow. She +certainly did not propose to spend the entire night in playing nurse to +anybody, especially after Bea had insulted her so unpardonably. It had +been Bea's idea all along too, and Berta had worked herself nearly to +death to make it a success. The miles and miles she had tramped through +the mud--and all to no result! Now everything was spoiled, and everybody +had quarreled with everybody else. Whereupon Berta marched away to bed, +leaving the swinging door unhooked and the outer door ajar. Bea was +indisputably right in criticising her fellow conspirator as heedless. + +At midnight Gertrude sprang from her pillow, both arms flung out into the +darkness, every nerve quivering as she listened for a second scream. She +had chosen the inside bedroom that had a window opening on the corridor. +Now in the breathless silence, she heard a swift creak ending in the bang +of an up-flung sash. A swish of light garments, a thud shaking the floor +outside, and then bare feet flying in frantic haste past her room and +into the alleyway. + +A crash against the study door, and the knob rattled wildly. "Let me in, +quick, quick! Help, Gertrude, help!" + +There was a flash of white across the floor, the lock grated, and Sara +was in Gertrude's arms. Portières rustled apart, and two more +apparitions loomed pallidly in the dark. + +"Hulloa!" gasped Berta's voice, while a woodeny click from Bea's +direction told of Indian clubs snatched bravely in readiness for war. + +"Light the gas, girls," ordered Gertrude quietly; "there, dear, don't be +frightened now. See, we are all here. We will take care of you. What was +it startled you?" + +"I don't know. It was dark. Something moved. I heard something. I was +afraid." + +Gertrude felt her tremble, and held her closer. Over the bowed head she +spoke with her lips to the other two. "That steamboat shock." + +Bea caught the idea impulsively. "Oh, Sara!" she exclaimed, "you're only +nervous. You've often waked up and screamed a little ever since that +night on the boat. It's nothing. Crackie! but you frightened us at +first!" + +Sara lifted a white face. "This was different," she said; "this was +something alive. Hark!" + +They leaned forward, listening. Yes, there was a footstep outside, +muffled, stealthy. A board creaked. Something was breathing. + +Gertrude and Berta looked at each other in quick challenge for mutual +courage. All the other rooms at that end of the building were vacant; the +long dark corridor stretched out its empty tunnel between them and +available help. What could four girls do? + +"We can scream," said Bea. + +"Lock the door--and the inner window--quick!" Gertrude flew to one, Berta +to the other. "Sara, take this Indian club. Now if it really +is--anything, scream. But don't run. Don't scatter. Scream--scream all +together. Ah!" + +The footsteps were coming down the alleyway toward the door. Bea filled +her lungs, and opened her mouth in valiant preparation. + +"Wee-wee-wee, bow-wow!" Two little paws scratched at the door. + +Bea's breath issued in a feeble squeak, as she dropped neatly down upon +the floor and buried her face in her hands. + +Berta swooped upon her. "The puppy!" + +Gertrude felt herself freed from the encircling arms. She moistened her +lips. "I am sorry, Sara, about the other night. I am--sorry." + +The pale little face upturned toward hers began to glow as if touched +with sunshine. "I was late because Prexie kept me. I should have +explained, but--but it hurt. I knew you were sorry." + +Berta sat up as if jerked into position by a wire, and briskly brushed +the hair out of her eyes. + +"Listen, Bea," she whispered to a small pink ear half hidden by red +curls, "they're reconciled." + +"So are we," said Bea, "please open the door for the puppy." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +CLASSES IN MANNERS + + +Gertrude's brother paid another visit to his sister at Class Day. At +least, he was supposed to be visiting his sister, but it was really Bea +who took charge of him during all that radiant June morning while +Gertrude, as chairman of the Daisy Chain committee, was busy with her +score of workers among the tubs of long-stemmed daisies in a cool +basement room. Bea had immediately enrolled the young man as her first +assistant in the arduous task of gathering armfuls of the starry flowers +in the field beyond the dormitories. + +After that labor was finished, and even Lila had deserted her for the +sake of an insensate trunk that demanded to be packed, Bea conducted her +companion to the lake. There through the golden hour of midday they +drifted in the shadow of the overhanging trees along the shore. Once they +paddled softly around the little island at the end, and a colony of baby +mud-turtles went scrambling madly from a log into the water. When the +brother began to fish for one with an oar, Bea protested in a grieved +tone. + +"But you don't seem to realize that I am worrying about freckles every +minute that we stay out here in the broad sunlight. What are trees for if +not to provide shade for girls without hats? And anyhow it is unkind to +seek to tear a turtle from his happy home. If you do that, I shall never, +never consent to admit you to our highest class in manners." + +"Highest class in manners," he echoed, "that sounds promising. Is it +another story?" + +"It certainly is," replied Bea, "and if you are very good indeed and will +keep the boat close to the bank from the first word to the last, I will +tell you all about it." + +Berta called it our classes in manners, but Miss Anglin, our sophomore +English teacher, said that it was every bit as bad as gossip. When Berta +told her that she was the one who had started us on it by advising us to +read character in the street-cars, she looked absolutely appalled, and +groaned, "What next?" + +This was the beginning of it. When Miss Anglin took charge of our essay +work the second semester, she explained that we should be required to +write a one-page theme every day except Saturday and Sunday. Lila almost +fainted away, because she hates writing anything, even letters home. +Robbie Belle looked scared, and I opened my mouth so wide that my jaw +ached for several minutes afterward. But Berta kept her wits about her. +She said, "Miss Anglin, we are all living here together, and we see the +same things every day. I'm afraid you'll be bored when you read about +them over and over. Why can't some of us choose intellectual topics?" + +By intellectual topics she meant subjects that you can read up in the +encyclopædia. Miss Anglin sort of smiled. "Do you truly think that you +all see the same things day after day? How curious! Have you ever played +a game called Slander?" + +"Yes, Miss Anglin," said Berta, and went on to tell how the players sit +in a circle, and the first one whispers a story to the second; and the +second repeats it as accurately as she can remember to the third; and the +third tells it to the fourth, and so on till the last one hears it and +then relates it aloud. After that the first one gives the story exactly +as he started it. It is awfully interesting to notice the difference +between the first report and the last one, because somehow each person +cannot help adding a little or leaving out a little in passing it on to +the next. That is the way slander grows, you know. The gossip may be true +at first, or almost true, but it keeps changing and getting worse and +worse and more thrilling as it spreads till finally it isn't hardly true +at all. That is how our classes in manners turned out. + +Well, to go back to that day in the rhetoric section. Miss Anglin saw +that we were discouraged before we had commenced and we didn't know how +to start; and so she began to suggest subjects. For instance, she said, +one girl might wake up in the morning----Oh, but I am forgetting her +application of the illustration from the game of Slander. She said that +if no two persons receive the same impression from a whispered story +spoken in definite words, it is probable that no two pairs of eyes see +the same thing in the same way, to say nothing of the ideas aroused in +the different brains behind the eyes. One girl might wake up in the +morning, as I was saying, and when she looks from the window she sees +snow everywhere--provided it did snow during the night, you understand. +Then she writes her daily theme about the beautiful whiteness, the +shadows of bare trees, diamond sparkles everywhere and so forth. Another +girl looks out of that very same window at the same time, and she doesn't +think of the beautiful snow merely as snow; she thinks of coasting or +going for a sleigh-ride or something like that. And so her theme very +likely will prove to be a description of a coasting carnival or +tobogganing which she once enjoyed. Another girl looks out and thinks +first thing, "Oh, now the skating is spoiled!" Her theme maybe will tell +how she learned to skate by pushing a chair ahead of her on the ice. + +Berta raised her hand again. "Well, but, Miss Anglin," she said, "suppose +it doesn't snow?" + +Berta is not really stupid, you know, quite the reverse indeed, but she +is used to having the girls laugh at what she says. They laughed this +time, and Miss Anglin did too, because she knew Berta was just drawing +her out, so to speak. She went on to give other examples about the things +we see while out walking or shopping or at a concert, and finally she +drifted around to character-reading. She said a street-car was a splendid +field for that. The next time one of us rode into town, she might try +observing her fellow travelers. There might be a working-man in a corner, +with a tin-bucket beside him. Maybe he would be wearing an old coat +pinned with a safety-pin. By noting his eyes and the expression of his +mouth the girl could judge whether he was just shiftless or untidy merely +because his wife was too busy with the children to sew on buttons. She +told a lot of interesting things about the difference between the man who +holds his newspaper in one hand and the man who holds his in both. Some +temperaments always lean their heads on their hands when they are weary, +and others support their chins. A determined character sets her feet down +firmly and decidedly at every step--though of course it needn't be +thumping--while a dependent chameleon kind of a woman minces along +uncertainly. Why, sometimes just from the angle at which a person lifts +his head to listen, you can tell if he has executive ability or not. + +Before the bell rang at the end of the hour, we were awfully enthusiastic +about reading character. The first thing Robbie Belle did was to stumble +over the threshold. + +"Oho!" jeered Berta, "you're careless. That's as easy as alpha, beta, +gamma." + +She meant a, b, c, you understand, but she prefers to say it in Greek, +being a sophomore. + +"But she isn't careless," protested Lila, "she's the most careful person +I ever met. The sole of her shoe is split, and that is the reason she +stumbled." + +"Why is it split?" demanded Berta in her most argumentative tone; "would +a nobly careful and painstakingly fastidious person insist upon wearing a +shoe with a split sole? No, no! Far from it. If she had stumbled because +the threshold wasn't there, or because she had forgotten it was there, +the inference would be at fault. I should impute the defect to her +mentality instead of to her character, alas! A stumble plus a split sole! +Ah, Robbie Belle, I must put you in a daily theme." + +Robbie Belle looked alarmed. "Indeed, Berta, I'd rather not. I was going +to trim it off neatly this morning, but I have lent my knife to Mary +Winchester." + +"Ha! lent her your knife!" declaimed Berta sternly, "another clue! This +must be investigated. Why did she borrow your knife?" + +"To sharpen her pencil," answered Robbie. "I made her take it." + +"Her pencil! Her pencil!" muttered Berta darkly, "why her pencil? Are +there not pens? Mayhap, 'tis not her pencil. Alas, alas! Her also I +thrust into a daily theme." + +"She's snippy about returning things," said Lila, "she acts as if she +didn't care whether you do her a favor or not. I don't like her." + +"She's queer," I said. + +Now I had a perfect right to say that because it was true. Mary +Winchester was just about the queerest girl in college. Everybody thought +so. But I shall say no more at present, as her queerness is the subject +of the rest of this story. If I told you immediately just how she was +queer and all the rest of it, there wouldn't be any story left, would +there? + +Well, as the weeks whirled past, we studied character and wrote daily +themes till we were desperate. Robbie Belle grew sadder and sadder until +Berta suggested that she might describe the gymnasium, the chapel, the +library, the drawing rooms, the kitchen, and so forth, one by one, +telling the exact size and position of everything. That filled up quite a +number of days. When Miss Anglin put a little note of expostulation, so +to speak, on the theme about the corridor--it was, "This is a course in +English, not mathematics, if you please,"--Berta started her in on the +picture gallery. There were enough paintings there to last till the end +of the semester. Of course, such work did not require her to read +character. Robbie Belle didn't want to do that somehow; she said it +seemed too much like gossip. + +However, at first, it wasn't gossip. For instance one day Lila and I +collected smiles. We scurried around the garden and dived in and out of +the hedge in order to meet as many people as possible face to face. Then +we took notes on the varieties of greeting and made up themes about them. +Miss Anglin marked an excellent on mine that time. For another topic we +paid one-minute calls on everybody we knew. When they looked surprised +and inquired why we did not sit down, we frankly explained that we were +gathering material for an essay on Reading Character from the Way a +Person says "Come in!" + +After we had been grinding out daily themes for three weeks we began to +long for something to break the monotony. My brain was just about wrung +dry, and Lila said she simply loathed the sight of a sheet of blank +paper. One afternoon while I was struggling over my theme, Berta threw a +snowball against my window, flew up the dormitory steps, sped down the +corridor, gave a double rat-tat-too on my door, and burst in without +waiting for an answer. + +"Listen! Quick! I have an idea. It struck me out by the hedge. Why not +study manners as well as character? Why not divide----" + +"Go away. That snowball plop against the pane spoiled my best sentence. +This is due in forty minutes. I've written up my family and friends and +books and pictures, my summer vacations--a sunset at a time, my +little----" + +"Why not divide everybody, I say----" + +"----dog at home," I continued placidly. "I've composed themes about the +orchard, the woods, the table-fare, the climate, the kitten I never +owned, the thoughts I never had. To-day I was in despair for a subject +till I happened to borrow one of your cookies and----" + +"You did! My precious cookies! Burglar!" + +"----bite it into scallops. Ha! an idea! I arranged myself on the rug +with much care in order that I might stretch out the process to a whole +page of narration. Thereupon I nibbled off the corners of the scallops +till the cookie was round and smooth again. Next I bit it into scallops +and then I nibbled off the corners; and next I bit and then I nibbled; +and next I bit and then I nibbled; and next I bit----" + +"You did! Oh, I wish I----" + +"----and then I nibbled; and next I bit and then I nibbled, till there +was nothing left but the hole. Now I am writing a scintillating and +corruscating theme about it. Go away." + +Berta turned toward the door. "Some day you'll wish you had listened," +she declared in accents heavy with gloom, "some day when you can't think +of a single thing to write about, and the hand keeps moving around the +clock, and the paper lies there blank and horrible before your vacant +eyes, and your pen is nibbled so short that your fingers----" + +"I didn't mean go away," I said, "I meant, go on. Tell me about it." + +"Nay, nay! To lacerate my feelings, spurn my proffered aid, insult my +youthful pristine zeal, and then to call me back--in short, to throw a +dog a bone! Nay, nay!" + +"Oh, Berta, be sweet. Tell me. You know that I think you have the most +original ideas in college." After I had coaxed her quite a lot, she told +me her new scheme. It was something like advanced character reading and +biology combined. Just as scientists classify trees and plants in botany, +Berta proposed that we should divide the students into different classes +according to their manners. + +"It will be so improving and instructive too," she pleaded, "we'll be +paragons of politeness before we finish them all. We'll be so particular +about our highest class that we will notice every little thing and thus +take warning." She paused a moment; then, "Did you hear me say thus?" she +inquired. When I nodded, she gazed at me sadly. "People who belong to the +highest class never gesticulate; they use spoken language exclusively. +Furthermore, as to the thus. I wondered if an up-springing sense of +courtesy persuaded you to refrain from hooting at such elegant verbiage. +That would be a sign of benefit already derived from the classes. By the +way, it was Mary Winchester who inspired the idea." + +"Oh, but she has no manners at all!" I exclaimed before I thought. + +"That is precisely the point. I met her flying along like a wild creature +on her bicycle, eyes staring, hair streaming in the wind. At least, some +locks were streaming. She gave the impression of a being utterly lawless. +Then I thought----See here, Miss Leigh, are you interested in my +thoughts?" + +"Yes'm," I answered meekly. + +"Then drop that pen and pay attention. Even the girls who are to belong +to the second class in manners know how to do that. Well, I thought that +she hardly ever accepts an invitation, and she looks as she didn't expect +anybody to like her, and she minds her own business and does exactly as +she pleases generally. My next important thought was that sometimes she +cuts me in the hall, and sometimes she doesn't, just as she happens to +feel. That led to the philosophic reflection that politeness is a +question of law." + +"Ah, pardon me, Miss Abbott, but I remember from a story which was read +by my teacher about forty years ago when I was in the fourth reader that + + "'Politeness is to do or say + The kindest thing in the kindest way.'" + +"That's what I meant. The law of kindness--that's what politeness is. +Listen to the logic. Mary Winchester is lawless, hence she breaks the law +of kindness, hence she has no manners, hence it will be fun to divide +everybody here into various classes according to their manners." + +So that is the way our classes began. + +It was awfully, awfully interesting. Robbie Belle said she didn't want +to; but Berta and Lila and I talked and talked and talked. We sat in the +windows and talked instead of dancing between dinner and chapel. We +talked after chapel, and on our way to classes or to meals. And of course +we talked while we were skating or walking or doing anything similar that +did not demand intellectual application. Lila even talked about the +classes in her sleep. We discussed everybody who happened to attract our +attention. + +Finally we had sifted out all the candidates for the highest class except +three. One was the senior president, pink and white and slender and +gentle and she never thumped when she walked or laughed with her mouth +open or was careless about spots on her clothes or forgot the faces of +new girls who had been introduced to her. The second was a professor who +was shy and sweet and went off lecturing every week. The third was a +teacher who looked like a piece of porcelain and always wore silk-lined +skirts and never changed the shape of her sleeves year after year. Not +one of the three ever hurt anybody's feelings. + +Miss Anglin was obliged to go into the second class because she had +moods. No, I don't mean because she had them,--for sometimes you cannot +help having moods, you know--but because she showed them. She let the +moods influence her manner. Some mornings she would come down to +breakfast as blue as my dyed brilliantine--(how I hated that frock!)--and +would sit through the meal without opening her mouth except to put +something into it; though on such occasions we noticed that she rarely +put into it very much besides toast and hot water. On other days she made +jokes and sparkled and laughed with her head bent down, and was so +absolutely and utterly charming that the girls at the other tables wished +they sat at ours, I can tell you. We three were exceedingly fond of her, +but we agreed at last after arguing for seven days that true courtesy +makes a person act cheerfully and considerately, no matter how she may +feel inside. + +There were about nine in that second class, and fourteen in the third and +twenty in the fourth, when we started in on Mary Winchester. + +Lila and I were rushing to get ready for the last skating carnival of the +season. Some one knocked at the door. It was Mary, but she didn't turn +the knob when I called, "Come." She just waited outside and gave me the +trouble of opening it myself. Then in her offish way she asked if we were +through with her lexicon. After I had hunted it up for her, she happened +to notice that Lila was wailing over the disappearance of her skates. + +"I saw a pair of strange skates in my room," she said and walked away as +indifferent as you please. + +Now wouldn't any one think that was queer? + +It made Lila cross, especially when she found that the skates had three +new spots of rust on them. March is an irritable month, anyhow, you know. +Everybody is tired, and breakfast doesn't taste very good. She sputtered +about the rust till we reached the lake where we found two big bonfires +and three musicians to play dance music while we skated. Imagine how +lovely with the flames leaping against the background of snowy banks and +bare black trees! Berta and Lila and I crossed hands and skated around +and around the lake with the crowd. When we stopped in the firelight, +Lila looked unusually pretty with her rosy cheeks and her curls frosted +by her breath. Berta's eyes were like stars. Of course Robbie Belle was +beautiful, but she did not associate much with us that evening. After one +turn up and back again while we discussed Mary Winchester, she said she +thought she would invite our little freshman roommate for the next +number. + +We kept on talking about Mary. Lila was insisting that she ought to be +put in the tenth class or worse, while Berta maintained that she wasn't +quite so bad as that. I kept thinking up arguments for both sides. + +Lila counted off her crimes, and she didn't speak so very low either. +"Mary Winchester doesn't deserve a place even in the tenth class. Why, +listen now. You admit that she borrows disgracefully and never returns +things. At least, she helped herself to my skates. It is almost the same +as stealing. She has no friends. She always goes off walking alone, and +sits in the gallery by herself at lectures and concerts. Everybody says +she is queer." + +"Miss Anglin thinks girls in the mass are funny," I volunteered, "though +maybe they are not any more so than human kind in the bulk. She says that +we all imagine we admire originality, but when we see any one who is +noticeably different from the rest, we avoid her. We call her queer and +are afraid to be seen with her." + +"Mary Winchester's independence is commendable," protested Berta. "I envy +her strength of character. She ignores foolish conventions----" + +"As for instance, the distinction between mine and thine," interrupted +Lila, "you don't live next to her, and you don't know. Her disregard for +the property rights of others indicates a fatal flaw----" + +"Fatal flaw, fatal flaw!" chanted Berta mischievously, "isn't that a +musical phrase! Say it fast now, and see if it tangles your tongue." + +I was afraid Lila would feel wounded, so I remarked hastily that we +agreed that Mary was not polite; the question was as to the degree of +impoliteness. + +"Even Robbie Belle acknowledges that she is not a lady," chimed in Berta; +"she said it when Mary wanted to take that stray kitten to the biological +laboratory. She declared it would be happier if dead." + +"And it wasn't her kitten either," I contributed. "Robbie found it up a +tree. It is necessary to weigh every little point in a scientific study +like this." + +"Don't you see, girls, that Mary Winchester does not come from good +stock," began Lila, "of course she isn't a lady. Her attitude toward the +rights of others is certain proof that her family has a defective moral +sense. Perhaps her brother----" + +"Oh, let's follow out the logical deductions," cried Berta. "That course +in logic is the most fascinating in the whole curriculum. See--if a girl +lacks moral judgment, she either inherits or acquires the defect. If she +inherits it, her father doubtless was dishonest. Maybe he speculated and +embezzled or gambled or something. If she acquired it through +environment, her brother must have suffered likewise as they were +presumably brought up together. So perhaps Mary Winchester's brother was +expelled from college for kleptomania." + +"Then," said Lila triumphantly, "how can we possibly put her into even +the lowest of our classes in manners?" + +"Hi, there!" I started to scream before the breath was knocked out of me +by colliding with some girls who had been skating in front of us. One of +them had caught her skate in a crack, and we were so intent on our +conversation that we bumped into them, and all tumbled in a heap. Nobody +was hurt. That is, nobody was hurt physically. We picked ourselves up and +went on skating as before. It was not until days later that we discovered +what had been hurt then. It was Mary Winchester's reputation. Those girls +in front had overheard part of our remarks. And they thought that we were +talking about real facts instead of just analyzing character. + +It was exactly like a game of slander, only worse. The rumor that Mary +Winchester's father was a gambler and that her brother had been expelled +from college for stealing spread and grew like fire. You know, as I said +before, she was a queer girl--so queer in countless small ways that she +was conspicuous. Even freshmen who did not know her name had wondered +about the tall, wild-looking girl who had a habit of tearing alone over +the country roads as if trying to get away from herself. Naturally when +such a report as this one of ours reached them, they adopted it as a +satisfactory explanation. They also, so to speak, promulgated it. + +The first we knew of the rumor was from Robbie Belle. It was the +afternoon before the Easter vacation, and Lila and I were in Berta's room +to help her pack her trunk. At least Lila held the nails while Berta +mended the top tray and I did the heavy looking on. When Berta stopped +hammering and put her thumb in her mouth, I remarked that nobody who +squealed ouch! in company could belong to our highest class in manners. + +Lila's expression changed from the pained sympathy of friendship to the +scientific zeal of character study. "Girls, have you noticed Mary +Winchester lately? It is the strangest thing! She seems more alone and +alien than ever. The girls avoid her as if she had the plague. In the +library and the corridor to-day it was as plain as could be. They stop +talking when she comes around. They watch her all the time though they +try not to let her know it. Of course, she couldn't help feeling it. They +point her out to each other, and raise their brows and whisper after she +has passed. She moves on with her head up and her mouth set tight. Her +manners are worse than ever." + +"When I met her this morning, she looked right through me and didn't see +anything there, I reckon," said I, "and, oh, Lila, you were mistaken +about her borrowing your skates without leave. It was Martha who had them +that morning. In rushing to class she got mixed up and threw them in at +the wrong door, that's all. Our example is corrupting the infant." + +Berta forgot her aching thumb. "Something is wrong. Mary's eyes are those +of a hunted creature. Driven into a corner. Everybody against her. I +wonder----" + +Robbie Belle walked slowly into the room, her clothes dripping with +water. + +"Mary Winchester fell into the lake," she said, "you did it." + +In the silence I heard Berta draw a long sigh. Then she dropped her +hammer. + +"She broke through the ice," added Robbie Belle. + +"But the ice is rotten. How did she get on it?" asked my voice. + +"She walked," answered Robbie Belle, "I saw her." Then she crossed over +to Berta, put both arms around her neck, hid her face against her +shoulder, and began to shake all over. "I helped pull her out, and she +fought me--she fought----" + +At that moment little Martha, our freshman roommate, came running in. +"That queer girl jumped into the lake. I saw them carrying her to the +infirmary. She did it because everybody knows her father is in the +penitentiary. They heard about it at the skating carnival. Her brother is +an outlaw too----" + +Robbie Belle lifted her head. "She hasn't any brother, but it is true +about her father. The doctor knows. She wonders how the story got out. It +was a secret. Mary changed her name. She--she fought me." + +I heard Berta sigh again. It sounded loud. Lila sat staring straight in +front of her with such a horrified expression on her white face that I +shut my eyes quick. + +When I opened them again, Miss Anglin stood in the doorway. I never was +so glad to see anybody in all my life. But we did not tell her then about +our classes in manners. We waited till one day in June when she asked us +how we had managed to win Mary out of her shell. + +As I look back now I cannot possibly understand how we succeeded. It was +the most discouraging, hopeless, hardest work I ever stuck to. Over and +over again Berta and I would have given up if it had not been for Lila. +She said that she dared not fail. Of course Robbie Belle helped a lot in +her steady, beautiful way. Martha did her best too, partly because she +was so sorry about her share in the affair of the skates. In fact all the +girls were perfectly lovely to Mary after the doctor had persuaded her +not to throw everything up and run away to hide. By and by she realized +that it was no use to refuse to be friends. + +Indeed she is a dear girl when you get to know her real self. Her +unfortunate manner--it was unfortunate, you know--had been a sort of +armor to shield her sore pride. She had been afraid of letting anybody +have a chance to snub her. That was the reason why she had seemed so +offish and suspicious and indifferent and lawless and queer. + +Do you know, I never heard Robbie Belle say a sharp thing except once. +She said it that day when we were telling Miss Anglin about the classes. +It was: "Whenever I want to say something mean about anybody, I think I +shall call it a scientific analysis of character." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THIS VAIN SHOW + + +It was the first evening at college in their junior year. Upon coming out +of the dining-room Lila caught sight of Bea waiting at the elevator door. +Dodging three seniors, a maid with a tray, and a man with a truck full of +trunks, she made a dash for the new arrival who in a sudden freak of +perversity danced tantalizingly just beyond reach. + +"You imp! And I haven't seen you for three months. Help me!" she beckoned +to Berta who that moment emerged from dinner, "run around that side and +catch her." + +But Bea, swiftly subsiding from her mischievous agility, stood still and +regarded them with an air of surprised, sad dignity as the two flung +themselves upon her. + +"Young ladies, I am astonished at such behavior. Leading juniors--real, +live, brand-new juniors--and to display such lack of self-restraint, such +disdain of gracefulness and repose! Oh!" her voice changed magically, +"oh, you, dear sweet, darling girls, I love you pretty well." + +"Then why," queried Berta, gasping as she released herself, "then why, I +repeat, do you endeavor to choke us to death?" + +"Because," answered Bea, as she meekly allowed Lila to straighten her hat +while Berta rescued her satchel from the middle of the corridor, "because +you are so nice and noble and haven't any false feeling about little +tokens of affection like that. In fact, you haven't any false pride or +anything false, and I have a tale of woe to tell you by and by. Hereafter +I intend to be a typical college girl, not an exception." + +The promised by and by proved to be the hour of unpacking after chapel +services. While Bea was emptying her satchel that night she snatched up a +little fringed napkin and shook it vigorously before the other girls. + +"See the crumbs! Thereby hangs the tale. Now, listen. + +This summer we have been feeling rather poor at home, you know. My +father's firm was forced to make an assignment. It wasn't his fault, you +understand; it was because of the hard times. Every few days we would +hear of a bank closing its doors or a factory shutting down. People have +been cutting off expenses in all directions. Of course my family has to +economize. I am thankful enough to be able to come back to college. About +a dozen girls in the class have dropped out this year of the panic. I +knew that I could earn fifty dollars or more by tutoring and carrying +mail, if I once got here. That will help quite a lot toward books and +postage and ordinary personal expenses. Father said he could manage the +five hundred for board and tuition. You had better believe that I do not +intend to be needlessly extravagant, when my mother is keeping house +without a maid, and my father is riding to his office on a bicycle. + +Now I rather suspect that this explanation is no excuse for the foolish +way I behaved on the journey to college that September. But the summer +has been so horrid, and two or three acquaintances changed around after +the failure and treated us as if we had ceased to be worth noticing. Of +course I know that such persons are not worth noticing themselves, still +it did hurt a little. I guess the reason why I pretended to have plenty +of money while traveling with Celia was because I was afraid of being +hurt again. And then too I remembered how she had said one evening the +year before when we were playing Truth that she despised stinginess +beyond any other vice. That had made an impression on me because I was +just going to say the very same thing myself. + +Celia is a new student who is to join our class this year. We met her +last spring when she came up from a boarding-school in New York to visit +a senior. You remember her? It was at a fudge party in her honor that we +played the game of Truth, to which I have already alluded. She is the +kind of person who is generally asked to be an usher at a hall play or on +Founder's Day. She is tall, holds her head high, has an air. The doctor +herself said when she saw her in chapel the evening of her visit, "Who is +that striking girl?" She dresses beautifully too; and I think I shall ask +her to let me put down her name for two dances next month, if my cousin +and his roommate come from Yale for the reception. + +Being new to the college atmosphere, she had an excuse for the way she +acted on the journey. An excuse that I did not have, you know--and I know +too. But as for that, more anon, anon! At present I start in and continue +by stating that on a certain September day I was sitting by myself in the +Union Station at Chicago, while I waited for my train. I had arrived two +hours before, and I was hungry, and I was also, as explained above, +strongly inclined to be economical. And therefore I was eating my +luncheon out of a pasteboard box, instead of going to a restaurant. + +On my lap was a fringed napkin upon which reposed one slice of chocolate +cake with frosting, one big peach, and seven large white grapes each +containing at least three seeds. Just at the very moment when I took a +bite of the peach, hoping that none of the weary passengers around me was +taking notes, for that peach was certainly juicy,--just at that exact +moment, I happened to glance across to the door. There was Celia Lane, +with her head higher than ever, looking up and down for an empty seat. +And the only empty seat in the whole waiting-room was next to mine. And +my lap was strewn with an economical luncheon. + +It was silly of me. I admit that once and forever, and shall not repeat +it again. But like lightning her remark about stinginess flashed into my +mind. Before she had taken the second step in my direction, I had crammed +all those seven grapes into my mouth, bundled the napkin with crumbs, +cake and pit into my satchel, shoved it under the bench, and rose +nonchalantly swallowing the grapes whole as I haughtily lifted my chin in +order to survey my worthless companions. Then of course my eyes fell upon +her, and I started forward in vivacious greeting. + +I don't believe she had recognized me before, for she said, "Oh!" with a +queer little gasp. Then she put out her hand in that cordial way of hers. +It made me think that I was the person she had been longing to find. She +inquired what road I was going on, and said, "Ah, yes, what a charming +coincidence!" But honestly it seemed to me that there was a worried +expression in her eyes. + +And there I sat miserably shaking in my old shoes. It may appear funny to +you, but it was an awful feeling. Even now months afterward I never want +to smile at the memory. You see, it costs five dollars to ride in a +Pullman car from Chicago to New York. I had planned to go into the common +passenger coach until nightfall, and thus save two dollars and a half +toward books for the new semester. That sounds a bit mean and sordid, +doesn't it? And I know my family would have objected if I had told them, +because the sleeping-cars are much safer in case of accidents. Oh, how I +hated to say anything about it! You can't imagine. I wonder how Berta +would express it with literary vividness. Maybe she might say that she +"shrank in every fibre." But it was worse than that--I just didn't want +to, I simply couldn't. + +[Illustration: WE HANDED OVER FIVE DOLLARS APIECE] + +The hand of the clock kept moving around--oh, lots faster than it had +done before Celia appeared. When it was nearly time for the train to be +ready, I began to mutter and mumble and finally managed to remark that I +thought I had better see about engaging my berth. What do you suppose? +She gave a sort of astonished jump and exclaimed, "Why, I must too." So +we both marched over to the agent's window and handed over five dollars +apiece. I was dying to ask her to go shares with me, because one berth is +plenty--or, I mean almost plenty--large enough for two. But though I +opened my mouth a few times and coughed once, I absolutely did not dare +to propose such a penurious plan. She might have thought me close-fisted, +and perhaps she would not have slept very well either. + +No sooner had we settled ourselves in the sleeper, than I began to worry +about the meals. Naturally she would assume that I intended to go into +the dining-car every time. Most of the girls do as a matter of course. In +fact I remember feeling condescending whenever I saw anybody eating from +a box while the other passengers were filing down the aisle, or up, +whichever it happened to be. This year I was to be one of the brave +unfortunates left behind in their seats. + +Well, very likely you understand that people while traveling really ought +not to eat so heartily as usual. Much food in a dining-car clogs the +system and ventilates the pocketbook, so to speak. I appreciated myself +hard for being right and noble and abstemious and foresighted--with +respect to the semester's expenses, you perceive, and also self-denying +and self-reliant. There are a number of selfs in that sentence, likewise +in the idea and in my mind at the time. I don't believe honestly that +poverty is good for the character, though Berta says that she knows it +isn't good for anything else. + +Celia and I went out to sit on the rear platform of the observation-car. +The scenery was not particularly interesting in comparison with Colorado; +and consequently I had spare energy for meditating on Emerson's essays +and his observation that "What I must do is all that concerns me, not +what the people think." I wish I were strong-minded. To reflect +sincerely, however, I don't believe it is so much a question of a strong +mind as of a weak imagination. If I had been unable to imagine what Celia +might think, doubtless I wouldn't have bothered about it. + +But I was bothered. The sensation of botheration deepened and swelled and +widened as supper time drew nearer and nearer, and every moment I +expected to hear the waiter's voice intoning behind me, "Supper is now +ready in the dining-car." What made this state of affairs all the sadder +was the memory of springing gladness inspired by the same sound on +previous journeys. I sat there dreading and dreading and dreading. And +then, what do you think? Celia was asking me about Lila and Berta and +Robbie Belle and the fun we have and incidentally something about the +work. I was talking so fast that I forgot all about being poor. When the +waiter's voice suddenly rang out at the end of the car, I jumped up +instantly just as I had always done on former occasions of the same +nature. And I exclaimed, "I am simply starved to death." + +Then I remembered and sat down so quickly that my camp-chair tipped +against Celia and knocked her over so that she might have fallen off the +platform if there had not been a railing around it. That catastrophe +created such a flurry of anxieties, apologies, and so forth, that I +succeeded in letting the crisis slip past unmolested. At least, that +first crisis did. The second crisis arrived a little later when the voice +behind us rang out again with, "Second call to supper in the dining-car." +I glanced sidewise at Celia just in time to catch her glancing sidewise +at me. That made me spring lightly to my feet, I can tell you. Was she +getting suspicious? Was she too courteous to suggest an extravagance the +refusal of which might hurt my pride? Was she wondering why I seemed to +have forgotten that I was starving to death, if not already starved? + +So I said in a tone of patient consideration, "Shall we wait any longer, +Miss Lane?" She jumped up like a flash, and her face was quite red. + +"No, indeed! Not on my account certainly." She emphasized the my so +distinctly that I was sure she suspected. That dreadful thought caused me +to stiffen my manner, and as hers had been strangely stiff all the +afternoon, we were awfully polite to each other during supper. Each of us +insisted upon paying the bill and feeing the waiter. It was terrible. I +couldn't afford to pay it all, and yet I was too silly to give in +gracefully, especially as some other passengers were listening, and the +waiter hovered near. Finally it resulted in his receiving twice the sum, +half for the bill, and half for a fee. I hope he appreciated it. + +Then we talked politely to each other for an hour or two before going to +bed. And in the morning, there was the problem of breakfast confronting +me. + +The problem woke me early. Being poor is bad for the health as well as +bad for the character, I think. Probably it is bad for the soul also. Or +maybe it is not the poverty so much as being ashamed of it that perverts +a person's life. Well, actually I almost cherished the deceitful plot of +getting up so early that I should be already dressed before Celia would +appear, and then I could tell her that I had been so hungry that I had +eaten my breakfast alone. It would have been true too, because I intended +to nibble my malted milk tablets behind a magazine. But this plan came to +naught; for when I poked my head out between the curtains I saw Celia +herself staggering toward the dressing-room with her satchel. Thereupon I +lay down again and nibbled the tablets in the berth. That would enable me +to assert truthfully that I was not hungry and did not care for breakfast +in the diner. + +Oh, dear! Wasn't it awful! I did tell her that very thing, and she said +she didn't believe she was hungry either. Then we were polite to each +other till noon. When the waiter's dreaded voice once more rang out, I +made my little speech that I had been composing all the morning. It was +as follows: + +"Don't wait for me, Miss Lane. I consider that over-eating is a heinous +fault among Americans, and so I have decided to omit the dining-car for +the remainder of this journey. Pray, do not let me keep you." + +She said, "Why, that's exactly what I think, too." + +Just fancy! And there I was almost famished. I thought she would leave me +at once, and I could have a chance to eat the luncheon spoiling in my +box. Chicken sandwiches and jelly and olives and salted almonds and fruit +and cake and everything good. I had been thinking of it for hours. + +What could I do? There she sat, and there I sat in plain sight of each +other, being in the same seat for the sake of sociability, though her +section was the one in front of mine. She seemed rather quiet and +formal--not so much stiff as limp, so to speak. Still there was no +cordiality about it. Just as I felt I could not stand starvation another +minute, she rose and said she believed she would go into the +observation-car for a while. She did not invite me to accompany her, and +I made no offer to go. I simply sat and smiled and watched her fumble in +her bag for a few minutes before extricating what was apparently a rolled +up magazine. Then she marched down the aisle. The instant she had +vanished into the vestibule, I made a dive for my box. In just thirty +seconds I had consumed half a sandwich and a slice of cake. I kept my +eyes on the spot where she had disappeared, you had better believe. Oh, +wasn't I silly? But then, I promised not to allude to that obvious fact +again. That lunch tasted good. And I had plenty of time to eat all I +wanted, though I cut short the chewing process. + +When it was all down to the very last olive, I brushed off all the crumbs +I could see, and decided to walk into the observation car and be polite +again. So I did. And what do you suppose? Through the glass at the rear I +saw her sitting sort of sidewise so that one eye could watch the door +where I was entering. It seemed to me that she gave a little quiver as I +came within view, and then actually she threw something overboard. People +always see more than you think they do. At least I saw that, and she +thought I didn't, for when I emerged upon the platform she looked up with +a surprised smile of welcome and said, "Isn't the river beautiful!" + +I said, "Oh, isn't it!" and then I gazed at it very hard and attentively +so as to give her a chance to wipe the spot of jelly from her shirtwaist. +She had been eating her luncheon too. She had carried it wrapped up in +the funneled magazine. She had been ashamed to acknowledge that she +needed to be economical, too. I saw it all in a flash. She had intended +to ride in the common coach and save pullman fare, just like me. And +there we had been racing, neck and neck, trying to keep up with each +other. + +"Oh, dear!" I said at last, "I wish we had taken a berth together and +saved our two dollars and a half apiece." + +I heard her give a little gasp and I felt her staring at me. The next +minute she said, "There are crumbs on your necktie too." And then she +bent down her head and laughed and laughed and laughed till I had to +laugh too. + +"I hope it'll be a lesson to us," I said at last. + +She wiped the tears from her lashes. "It will be. I expect to be +repenting for weeks ahead,--at least, until my next allowance comes in. +But, you! Why, Miss Leigh, it seems so queer. I thought the college girl +was different as a rule--independent and frank and--oh, pardon +me--and--and so forth." + +"She is," I assured her sadly, "as a rule. But I am an exception. I prove +the rule." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CONSEQUENCES + + +For her junior year Bea was fortunate enough to secure a mail-route, the +proceeds of which helped to make her independent of a home allowance for +spending money. To tell the truth, however, she enjoyed the work even +more than the salary. While distributing the letters she felt a personal +share in every delighted, "Oh, thank you!" in each ever-unsatisfied, "Is +that all?" or the disappointed, "Nothing for me to-day?" + +From her own experience and observation during the years already past, +she was particularly interested in the different pairs of roommates who +came within the scope of her daily trips. In a certain double lived two +freshmen, one of whom always greeted her with, "Oh, thank you!" whether +the mail was addressed to her or to her roommate. But when the roommate +answered the knock, she invariably exclaimed, no matter how much was +handed to her, "Is that all?" + +More than once in her reports to Lila, Bea declared that it was about +time for a wave of reform in the vicinity of Ethelwynne Bruce. Perhaps +she might even have contemplated the possibility of engineering something +of the kind herself, if she had not been too busy to spare the necessary +thought-energy. In the course of events, fate with its machinery of +circumstances added an extra lesson to Ethelwynne's college course. + +It happened one evening during the skating season. + +Ethelwynne with her skates jingling over her arm came shivering into the +room. "Oo-oo-ooh!" Her teeth chattered. "Wynnie's freezing. Do shut that +window and turn on the heat, Agnes. It is hard lines to live in a double +with a regular Polar bear direct from the land of Sparta. You ought to +keep it up as high as forty degrees anyhow." + +"Sh-h!" The smooth dark head at the desk bent lower over the water-color +before her. "Don't interrupt this minute. There's a dear. I've got to +catch this last streak of daylight----" + +"But it isn't daylight," fretted Ethelwynne, "the moon's up already. And +I'm so chilly! I wish you would help me make some hot chocolate." + +"Look at the thermometer. Ah, one more stroke of that exquisite saffron +on the stem! Hush, now. Look at the thermometer, look at the +thermometer," she muttered abstractedly while concentrating all her +mental attention in the tips of her skilful fingers. + +Ethelwynne stared at her a moment before giving a little chuckle that +ended in a shiver. "Look at the thermometer, look at the thermometer," +she echoed sarcastically, "I reckon that'll warm me up, won't it? Like +somebody or other who set a lighted candle inside the fireless stove and +then warmed himself at the glowing isinglass. Suppose your old +thermometer does say seventy or eighty or ninety or a hundred? Maybe it +is telling a story. Why should I trust an uneducated instrument that has +never studied ethics? Now listen here!" She lifted her skates and poised +them to throw from high above her head. "Hist! if you don't drop those +hideous toadstools of yours and begin to sympathize with me this instant, +I shall hur-r-rl this clanking steel----" + +Agnes still painting busily raised one elbow in an attitude of +half-unconscious defense. + +"----upon the floor-r-r!" + +At the crashing rattlety-bang Agnes sprang to her feet with a nervous +shriek. Ethelwynne dived for her skates and felt them carefully. "I tried +to pick out the softest spot on the rug," she complained whimsically, +"but there wasn't any other way to wake her up. And I simply had to have +some sympathy. Oo-oo-ooh, Wynnie's freezing!" + +Agnes had returned to her brushes and was wiping them dry in heartless +silence. + +"Wynnie's freezing, I say." + +"Say it again," counseled the other's calm voice. "I am so provoked at +myself for jumping at every little noise! It is shameful to have so +little control over my own nerves even if I am tired. Ah! what was that?" + +"Jump again," advised Ethelwynne in a tone that was meant to be serene +but proved rather jerky. "It was nothing but my teeth chattering and +clicking together." + +"Generally it's your tongue," retorted Agnes with interest but broke off +in this promising repartee to exclaim with genuine anxiety, "Why, Wynnie, +child, you have a regular chill. Lie down quick and let me cover you up. +Have you been out skating ever since I left you on the lake?" + +"Yes, I have," she replied with an air of defiance, "you needn't preach. +I couldn't bear to come in. Everybody out. We had square dances, +shinney-on-the-ice, wood tag. Perfectly glorious! Such a splendid elegant +sunset behind the bare trees! I simply had to stay. Beatrice Leigh and +her crowd were there. A big moon came sailing up. We skated to +music--somebody whistled it. I couldn't bear to stop. I wanted to stay, I +tell you. I wanted to stay." + +"Hm-m," said Agnes, "I wanted to stay too. But what with the Latin test +to-morrow and this plate for the book on fungi to be sent off in the +morning, I managed to tear myself away." + +"You're different. Oo-oo-ooh!" Ethelwynne shivered violently again. "You +like to deny yourself. You enjoy discipline. It gives you pleasure to do +what you hate. You love duty just because it is disagreeable." + +"My--land!" Agnes clutched her own head. "The infant must have slipped up +a dozen times too often. Did the horrid bad ice smite her at the base of +the brain? Poor little darling! Is her intellect all mixedy-muddle-y? We +will fix it right for her. We'll give her a pill." + +"I think I have caught cold," moaned her roommate from the depths of the +blankets. + +Agnes looked judicial. "Our doctor at home has a theory that people take +cold easily when they have been eating too much sweet stuff. He says that +colds are most frequent after Thanksgiving. Now I wonder--I believe--why, +you surely did go to a meeting of the fudge-club in Martha's room last +night. Ethelwynne, did you eat it? Did you eat it even after all the +doctor said to you about your sick headaches?" + +"Of course I ate it. How do you expect me to sit hungry in a roomful of +girls all digging into that plateful of brown delicious soft hot fudge +with their little silver spoons, and I not even tasting it? I hated to +make myself conspicuous before the juniors there. They would think I am a +hypochondriac, and Berta Abbott might have said something to make the +others look at me and laugh. I don't believe the stuff hurts me a +particle. Doctors always want you to give up the things you like best." + +"Oh, Ethelwynne!" groaned Agnes, "you never deny yourself anything. It is +the only trait I don't like in you. Now you have caught a dreadful cold +just because you could not refuse the candy. You must break it up with +quinine." She fetched a small box from the bureau in her bedroom. "Here, +open your mouth." + +The other girl opened her mouth obediently. "I love pills. We're +homeopaths, you know. Once when I was a baby, I got hold of mother's +medicine chest and ate all the pellets. I thought they were candy. +Sweet--oh, delicious! I used to enjoy being sick. And now this nice big +chocolate-coated pill!" She sprang up suddenly, her face twisted into an +expression of agony. "Oh, oh, oh!" + +Agnes white as a sheet flew to her side. "What is it? Quick, quick, +Wynnie! Is it your heart? Your head? A darting pain! Where, oh, where?" + +"Crackie!" Ethelwynne ruefully rubbed her mouth. "I've been sucking that +pill." + +After a moment's struggle to retain her sympathetic gravity, Agnes gave +way and dropping her head on her hands shook alarmingly for at least half +a minute. + +"I told you I was a homeopath," expostulated Ethelwynne, "how was I to +know that allopaths always swallow their pills whole?" + +"Wh-wh-why did you suppose it was coated with chocolate?" gasped Agnes. + +"So as to improve the taste of course and tempt me to eat it. I am fond +of chocolate. If it is my duty to eat a pill, I want it to be inviting. I +don't want to do anything that I don't want to do, specially when I am +sick. Well, anyhow, I shall never touch another." + +However, by bedtime Ethelwynne was feeling so miserable that finally +after long urging she consented to swallow another dose of quinine in the +orthodox way. She allowed Agnes to put a hot water bottle at her feet and +to tuck in the coverlets cozily; and then she tried to go to sleep. But +that was another story. It was a story of fitful jerks and starts, of +burning fever alternating with shivering spells, of terrifying dreams and +wretched haunted hours of wakefulness. At last the longed-for morning +stole in at the windows to find her eyes heavy, her limbs languid, her +brain muddled and dull, her head roaring. + +It was the quinine that had done it--she knew it was--unspeakably worse +than the cold unattended. Worried Agnes acknowledged that the dose might +effect some systems violently. + +"But it has broken up your cold," she pleaded, "that's certainly gone." + +"What?" said Ethelwynne fretfully, "don't mumble so and run your words +together. I can't hear the gong very well either. And the Latin test is +coming the first hour after breakfast. I haven't had a chance to review +an ode. I feel so wretched! Oh, me! oh, me!" + +Ethelwynne never forgot that Latin test. The very first line written by +the instructor on the blackboard smote her with despair. She had never +been able to translate from hearing anyhow. This morning when Miss Sawyer +took her seat on the platform and opened her book, Ethelwynne bent +forward anxiously, every nerve alert and strained. What was the first +word? Oh, what was it? She had not caught it. It sounded blurred and mazy +with no ending at all. And the next--and the next! And the third! Now she +had lost it. The first was gone. She had forgotten the second. The voice +went reading on and on. She floundered after, falling farther and farther +behind. There wasn't any sense to it, and she couldn't hear the words +plainly, and everything was all mixed up. The other girls seemed to +understand. They were writing down the translation as fast as they could +scribble--at least some of them were. But she could not make out a +particle of meaning. It was Agnes's fault--it was all her fault. She had +coaxed her to take the quinine, and now she could not hear plainly or +think or remember or anything. + +In wrathful discouragement she turned to the rest of the questions. One +or two were short and easy. She managed to do the translations already +familiar. But when she reached the last part and attempted to write down +an ode which she had memorized the week before, she found that many of +the words had slipped away from her. The opening line was vivid enough, +then came a blank ending in a phrase that kept dancing trickily from spot +to spot in her visual imagination of the page. Here she recalled two +words, there three, with a vanishing, vague, intangible verse between. +The meaning had slid away utterly, leaving only these faulty mechanical +impressions of the way the poem had looked in print. Struggle as she +would, the thought frolicked and pranced just beyond the grasp of her +memory. + +Ethelwynne bit her lip grimly and put the cap on her fountain-pen. It was +not the slightest use. Miss Sawyer had always told them to learn the odes +understandingly, not in parrot fashion. It was better to submit a blank +than a paper scribbled with detached words and phrases. It was all +Agnes's fault--every bit. She had forced her to swallow that pill--the +pill that had muddled her brain and dulled her hearing--the pill which +was causing her to flunk in Latin. She had known that ode perfectly only +the previous day. It wasn't her fault--it was entirely Agnes's. She would +go instantly and tell her so. + +And she went the moment class was over. To be sure, she did not go so +fast as she wished, for her head had a queer way of spinning dizzily at +every sudden movement. Once or twice her knees faltered disconcertingly +in her progress down the corridor. But at last she reached the room and +walked in with a backward slam of the door. + +Agnes was putting the final touches to the water-color drawing of +exquisite fungi before her. + +"Sh-h," she murmured, "don't interrupt. Just one more stroke--and +another--now this tiny one. There, it is finished. Professor Stratton +sends her manuscript off to-day and she is waiting for this. Think of it! +Thirty dollars for this sheet of paper! Thirty whole big beautiful +dollars to send home for Christmas. They need it pretty badly. I've +worked hours and hours, and now they shall have a real Christmas! I know +what mother wants and couldn't afford----" + +Ethelwynne stamped her foot. "It was all your fault. I couldn't hear. I +couldn't think. I couldn't remember. The pill did it. You made me take +it. You always think you know best. You're always preaching and advising. +You wanted to make me flunk. You knew it would make my ears ring and my +head whirl. You did it on purpose. I shall never forgive you, never, +never, never!" + +"What!" + +At the tone Ethelwynne suddenly shivered, threw herself on the couch, and +fell to crying weakly. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it at all. I only +wanted to say something horrid. I wanted you to suffer too. I just wanted +to say it, and so I did say it. Oh, oh, oh, I am so miserable! I want to +go home." + +Agnes paid no attention. In her sudden sharp resentment at the +preposterous accusation, she had swung around in her chair, and her elbow +had tipped over the inkwell, spilling the contents over the desk. She sat +staring in horrified silence at her ruined drawing. + +Finally Ethelwynne puzzled by the continued stillness peered with one eye +from the sheltering fringes. She sprang up with a jump. + +"Agnes, your beautiful fungi!" + +A knock sounded at the door. + +"Come," called Agnes in mechanical response. There was a pause; then the +knob turned and the visitor entered with diffident step. + +Ethelwynne hastily smoothed her hair with one hand and felt of her belt +with the other. "Oh, good evening, Professor Stratton," she stuttered +from surprised embarrassment, "I mean, good morning. How do you do? Won't +you sit down?" + +Agnes turned to look, and rose in sober greeting. + +"You see it is spoiled," she pointed to the ink-splotched drawing. "It +was an accident. You don't know how exceedingly sorry I am, Professor +Stratton. The work on your book can go on without it, I hope." + +The older woman forgot her incorrigible shyness in dismay. "What a shame! +How distressing!" She hurried forward impulsively to examine the sheet. +"Since you brought it to me last night I have been exulting in the +thought of it. You have great talent for such work. The time you have +spent on it! How distressing!" She stopped in thoughtful fear that she +might be adding to the girl's disappointment. "An accident, you say? How +did it happen?" + +"Something startled me so that I twirled around in my seat, and my elbow +knocked the ink over. I--I am very sorry." Her lips felt stiff. +Ethelwynne watching with miserable eyes saw her moisten them. They were +drooping at the corners. + +"It is my fault," she burst out hurriedly, "it is all my fault. I made her +jump. I startled her on purpose. I said mean things to her because I felt +like saying them. I felt like saying them because I had flunked in Latin. +And I flunked in Latin because I took a p-p-pill--oh, no, no! I mean, +because I caught cold from staying out on the ice too long. And I stayed +out long because I wanted to. And the reason why I caught cold from +staying out too long was because my digestion was upset from eating fudge +when the doctor told me not to. And I ate the fudge because I wanted it. +And it is all my fault. It is all because I do things just because I want +to do them and not because I ought to do them or ought not to do them. I +ought to leave them undone, you know. And Prexie says that most miseries +in life come from that attitude of I-do-it-because-I-want-to-do-it-and- +I-don't-do-it-because-I-don't-want-to-do-it. And now Agnes won't have +thirty dollars to send home for Christmas. And it is all my----" + +"Hush!" said Agnes, "hush, now, dear! That'll be all right. It was my +fault anyhow. I should have had better control of my nerves and learned +not to let myself get startled." She smiled reassuringly across the bowed +head into Professor Stratton's concerned eyes. + +"I will see what I can do about holding back the manuscript till you +reproduce the drawing," said the older woman, "it is barely possible that +I can manage it." + +As the door closed softly behind her, Ethelwynne lifted her tear-wet +face. + +"Agnes, do you think it was the pill that did it?" + +"Did what? Everything?" + +"Oh, no, no! Was it the pill that made me flunk in Latin?" + +"I don't know," she answered doubtfully, "perhaps it helped." + +"I want to say it was the pill. I want to believe it was the pill. I want +to, but I won't, because it wasn't--not really way down underneath truly, +you know. It was my own selfish self." She reached up both arms to draw +Agnes closer in a repentant hug. "Wynnie's sorry," she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A GIRL TO HAVE FRIENDS + + +"Laura!" It was a soft little call sent fluttering in through the +keyhole. "Laura, are you there?" + +Laura with her chin propped on her hands at one of the broad sills +stirred uneasily in her chair and glanced sideways at her roommate who +was seated before the other window. Lucine had stopped reading aloud and +was regarding the door with an irritable frown on her vivid dark face. + +"I do wish, Laura, that you would tell Berta Abbott that an engaged sign +on our door means nothing if not the desire for undisturbed privacy. She +is the most inconsiderate person in the junior class. This is the third +time----" + +"Laura!" called the voice again, "answer me! I know you are in there. +I've simply got to speak to you one minute. It's awfully important." + +Laura half rose with a pleading smile toward Lucine who motioned her +indignantly back to her seat. + +"Laura Wallace, stay right there. You promised to help me revise this +essay. You know that I can't do it alone, because I haven't a particle of +critical ability; and the editors say they cannot print it as it is now. +You are exceedingly selfish to think of deserting me just when I most +need your suggestions. The board of editors meets to-night to choose the +material for the next number of the magazine, and if they decline this +again I shan't be eligible for election next month. You promised." + +"Laura, there's something I've got to ask you. If you don't come out, I +shall have to take this sign down and walk in my own self. Laura! Ah!" +The door swung open and tall Berta popped in. Slamming it behind her, she +stood with both hands on the knob, her eyes fixed with an expression of +innocent inquiry upon Lucine who had halted in the middle of her sudden +dash across the floor, her hand still outstretched toward the key. + +"Excuse me, Miss Brett. Were you just going out? I'm glad I did not +disturb you. Shall I hold it open for you?" She stepped to one side and +waited gravely without moving a muscle till Lucine after a withering +stare had stalked angrily back to her window. The corner of Berta's mouth +gave a quick, queer little twitch before settling back into proper +solemnity. + +"Come, Laura. You'd better. I shan't keep you long." At her imperious +gesture Laura slid out of the room at an apologetic angle, her head +twisted for a final shy glance back at Lucine who was apparently absorbed +in her papers. + +When safely outside in the corridor Berta seized her about the waist and +whirled her away from all possible earshot through cracks and transom. + +"Now then, exit the ogre, or rather eximus nos, leaving the ogre alone. +For what particular reason is she trampling all over you to-day? I didn't +catch all her last speech. You don't mean to say that you have promised +to help her with her writing?" + +"Yes," Laura nodded her rough curly head. She was a delicate little thing +with the irregular features that generally accompany such hair. Her +beauty lay in her expression which brightened charmingly from minute to +minute since her escape. "Oh, how good the air smells!" she stopped to +lean from an open window. "Lucine shivers at every draught. It is hard to +manage the ventilation to suit two persons in the same room. I +smother----" + +"Of course you smother--and you smother a good many more hours than she +shivers. Trust her for that. Such a little ninny as you are! Don't forget +that you have agreed to room with my best little sister when she enters +next fall. You would not have been thrust in with Lucine Brett this year +if I could have prevented it." + +"Oh, but if I can't come back--you know, I'm almost sure I shan't come +back. And anyhow I'm the only friend she has. I've got to stick to her. +If you could hear her mourning over her loneliness! Nobody cares for +her--nobody in all the world! And the girls don't like her. I promised to +be her friend. She--she needs me." + +"Humph!" growled Berta sourly, but somehow her arm was stealing around +the slight shoulders so far beneath her own, "that's the silly kind of a +person you are. If any creature needs you, from a lame kitten to a lion +with a toothache, you'll cling. Idiocy, that's what it is! Your brother +warned me last summer to restrict your charities. And now to help her +with her writing, and she your most dangerous rival for the editorship!" + +"Ah, but she doesn't know it, you understand. She doesn't know that I am +eligible. The editors have been so awfully kind to me and gave me book +reviews to do and reports to make, and they printed my verses and two +editorials. Every freshman who has had so many words published is +eligible for election on the board at their annual meeting next month. +Lucine's last story was clipped so much that she is short about two +thousand words; and this is her last chance to qualify by getting her +essay accepted for the next issue. I've got to help." + +"Yes, certainly you've got to help a rival qualify for a competition in +which she is likely to defeat you. Do you realize that?" Berta swung +Laura around in front of her and studied her curiously while she spoke. +"You are a good steady worker, you understand. You have critical ability +and a simple, sincere style. If elected you would make an excellent +editor, but--now listen, but, I say, you are not a genius like Lucine +Brett. She is brilliant. Oh, I acknowledge that, even if I do despise her +for being selfish and disagreeable and ego----" + +"Hush! She tries--she doesn't understand----You mustn't talk that way. I +won't listen. I promised to be her friend. She wonders why the girls +don't like her." + +"And yet she expects you to help her defeat you! She is willing to accept +that sacrifice from you! When it means so much to you that----" + +"Oh, hush, Berta!" Laura slipped out of the range of that keen +straight-ahead gaze and nestled under the protecting arm again. "She +doesn't know that I am eligible, I tell you. My articles weren't signed +usually except with initials. And she is not thinking about other girls' +qualifications--she's bothered about her own. It's got to be a fair race +with everybody in it, if they want to be. Of course she will be +elected--there isn't a doubt--and I'll be as glad as any one." + +"Yes!" Berta's voice veered from sarcasm to genuine anxiety. "You'll be +glad--but you'll be glad at home. You can't come back to college--you +told me so yourself--unless you are elected editor. That's why I called +you out just now. Did your uncle really say that he was disappointed in +your career here?" + +Laura cleared her throat. "He doesn't like it because I haven't won any +honors yet. Don't you know how almost every girl here came from a school +where she was the brightest star and carried off all the prizes and +things like that? My uncle doesn't understand. He thinks it is the fault +of the college because I haven't done anything great. Oh, you know, +Berta. I--I do hate to talk in such a conceited way. He doesn't realize +that I am not brighter than the rest and can't dazzle. He wants me to win +an honor that he can put in the papers at home. He says if I don't +distinguish myself this year, I might as well stop and go to the Normal +next fall. He thinks college is too expensive. This editorship is the +only chance, because--because there isn't anything else for our class now +that the offices are filled and committees appointed. He didn't like it +because my articles in the magazine were signed with initials and not the +whole name. He said, 'Well, niece Laura, let me see your name printed +plain in that list of editors, and then we'll decide about next year.' +He--he's disappointed." + +"And yet," Berta spoke slowly, "you are going to help Lucine Brett with +that essay. And you know how much my little sister cares about being at +college with you." + +Laura gave a startled jump and turned to run. "Oh, Berta, I had +forgotten. She's waiting. I've stayed too long. She'll be so angry!" + +"Let her," growled Berta; but Laura had fled. + +Meanwhile Lucine when left alone had dropped the sheets of her essay in +her lap and planting her elbows on the sill crouched forward, staring +miserably out at the brown soaked lawn flecked with sodden snowdrifts in +the shadows of the evergreens that were bending before a rollicking March +wind. + +"Nobody cares," she mourned, "even Laura doesn't care whether I succeed +or not. I want the girls to like me, but they won't." + +Tears of self-pity dimmed her lashes when Laura slipped timidly into the +room and after a worried glance at the scattered papers resumed her +former seat. + +"Now, Lucine, if you will read that last paragraph once more, I will try +to see where the difficulty lies. It--it's fine so far." + +Lucine looked down at her essay, then across at the attentive small face +that appeared quite plain when fixed in such a worried pucker. "No," she +said at last, "I won't. You are not interested in the essay or in my +hopes of success. You offer to help merely because you think it is your +duty. I refuse to accept such grudging friendship. You toss aside my +affairs at the slightest whim of an outsider, and then expect me to +welcome the remnant of your mental powers. No, thank you." + +Laura bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said, "you ought not to feel that way +about it. I do truly wish to help you all I can. Please!" + +Lucine made a half-involuntary movement to gather up the sheets; then +checked herself. "No, I have too much pride to play second fiddle. Your +neglect has wounded me deeply, and I do not see how I can ever forgive +you. To forsake me for such a shallow, disagreeable person as Berta +Abbott is an unpardonable insult." + +Laura gave a little shiver and lifted her head sharply. "I have tried to +be your friend. I have endured--things. But I won't endure this--I +won't--I can't. Berta is my friend. You shall not speak of her like that +to me. Say you're sorry--quick! Oh, Lucine, say you didn't mean it and +are sorry." + +"I am not sorry," said Lucine distinctly, "and I did mean it. I am glad I +have dared to speak the truth about her. She is shallow and disagreeable." + +"And what are you?" Laura sprang to her feet. "A conceited selfish +inconsiderate----" She clapped her hand to her mouth with a quick sobbing +breath. "Oh, Lucine, we can't be friends. I've tried and tried, but we +can't." + +From beneath lowered eyelids Lucine watched the slight little figure +hurry to the door and vanish. Then rising abruptly she jerked a chair in +front of her desk, slapped down a fresh pad of paper, jabbed her pen into +the inkwell, shook it fiercely over the blotter--and suddenly brushing +the pages hither and thither she flung out her arms upon them and buried +her face from the light. + +A few minutes later Laura entered noiselessly and stopped short at sight +of the crouching form with shoulders that rose and fell over a long +quivering sob. Laura took one step toward her, next two away; finally +setting her teeth resolutely she glided softly across the room and patted +the bent, dark head. For an instant Lucine lay motionless; then with a +swift hungry gesture she reached out her arms and swept the younger girl +close to her heart. + +"Laura, I can't spare you, I can't spare you. You are all I have. Forgive +me and let me try again. It is an evil spirit that made me talk that way. +And, oh, Laura, dear, I want you to like me better than you like Berta. I +need you more." + +Laura put up her mouth in child-fashion for a kiss of reconciliation. "I +like you both," she said, and freeing herself gently stooped to pick up +the loose leaves of the essay. "Shall we go on with revising this now, +Lucine? It is due this evening, you know. The board meets at eight in the +magazine sanctum." + +Lucine watched her with a wistfulness that softened to tenderness the +faint lines of native selfishness about her mouth. "Laura, I want you to +room with me next year. We can choose a double with a study and adjoining +bedrooms. It will make me so happy. Do you know, last autumn when I lived +in the main building and you away off in the farthest dormitory, I used +to sit in a corridor window every morning to watch for you. I care more +for you than for any one else. I shall teach you to care most for me next +year." + +Laura seemed to have extraordinary trouble in capturing the last sheet, +for it fluttered away repeatedly from her grasp and she kept bending to +reach it again. Lucine could not see her face. + +"Will you," she repeated, "will you room with me next year, Laura?" + +Laura coughed and made another wild dive in pursuit of the incorrigible +paper. "Let's not talk about next year," she mumbled uncomfortably, "it +is so far off and ever so many things may happen before June. Of course," +she faltered and swallowed something in her throat, "I'd love to room +with you, if--if I can. But now we must hurry with this essay." + +"Well, remember that I have asked you first," said Lucine, "and I can't +spare you." + +Laura said nothing. + +After the essay had been read and discussed by Laura whose critical +insight was much keener than Lucine's, the older girl settled herself to +rewrite the article before evening. Dinner found her still at her desk, +fingers inky, hair disordered, collar loosened in the fury of +composition. In reply to Laura's urgent summons to dress, she paused long +enough to push back a lock that had fallen over her brow. + +"Don't bother me now. I'm just getting this right at last. Go away. I +don't want any dinner." The pen began again on its busy scratching. + +"Lucine, you know the doctor warned you to be more regular about eating. +Whenever you work so intensely, you always pay for it in exhaustion the +next day. Do come now and finish the essay later." + +The rumpled head bent still lower. "I wouldn't drop this now for thirty +dinners or suppers. It's good--it's fine--it's bound to be accepted--it +means the editorship. To sacrifice it for dinner! Do go away. I wish you +would leave me alone." + +Laura turned away silently. If the success of the article was in +question, she certainly could not interfere further. Lucine wrote on, +paying no heed to the gong except for the tribute of an impatient frown +at the sound of many feet clicking past in the corridor, with a rustling +of skirts and light chat of voices. At seven when the bell for chapel +again filled the halls with murmur and movement, she only shrugged +uneasily and scribbled faster. By half-past she had finished and was +re-reading it for final corrections. Then folding it with a smile of +weary contentment, for at last she knew that it was sure of success, she +set out to carry it to the magazine sanctum. + +Down the stairs and through the lower corridor she hastened toward the +plain wooden door whose key she hoped next year to claim for her own +fingers. The transom shone dark, and no voice yet disturbed the quiet of +the neighborhood. Evidently the editorial board had not yet begun to +assemble for the business session. Lucine decided to wait till they +arrived, so as to be certain that the precious essay reached their hands +in safety. If she should drop it through the letter slit in the door, it +might be overlooked. + +Curling up on a window ledge in a shadowy corner behind a wardrobe she +waited while dreamily gazing at the moon which was sailing through clouds +tossed by the still rollicking wind. Ever since her first glimpse of the +magazine's brown covers, she had determined to become editor-in-chief +some time. Now this essay would surely be accepted, and when printed this +month would render her eligible for election as the first sophomore +editor. From that position she would advance to the literary editorship +next year, and then to be chief of the staff when she was a senior. +Then--ah, then the girls would be eager and proud to be friends with her. +And Laura would be glad she had not forsaken her in her early struggles. +So far she had been too busy with her writing to make friends and keep +them. It took so much time and was such a bother to be friendly and do +favors all the while. But by and by she would have leisure to grow +unselfish and show the girls how noble and charming and altogether +delightful she could be--by and by. Meanwhile her work came first. She +simply had to succeed in winning this editorship. + +While Lucine lingered there, leaning her forehead against the cool pane, +footsteps sounded from around the transverse; and two figures, arm in +arm, strolled nearer. They glanced at the dusky transom, laughed over the +tardiness of their stern editor-in-chief, and sat down on a convenient +box to wait. + +Lucine after an intent scrutiny to identify the two seniors as +subordinate editors turned again to the moon, and listened half +unconsciously to the low trickle of words till suddenly her own name +roused her alert. + +"Yes, they're the favorite candidates." It was Bea's voice that spoke. +"If Miss Brett completes her quota of lines this month she will +undoubtedly have the best chance in the election, even if she is +personally unpopular. She is exceedingly self-centred, you know, and does +not trouble herself even to appear interested in anybody else. Her manner +is unfortunate. However she is unquestionably the ablest writer in the +class though little Laura Wallace is a close second. Berta knew her at +home and is very fond of her. Laura and Berta's sister Harriet have +always been special friends." + +"Is Laura eligible? I do think she is the sweetest child!" + +"Didn't you know it? Her work has been mainly inconspicuous contributions +signed only with initials. Stuff like that counts up amazingly in the +long run. She is a better critic though not so original as Miss Brett. +For my part I think the editor-in-chief ought to be primarily a critic, +but perhaps I am wrong. Anyhow the theory is that the election goes to +the best writer. I'm sorry. I half wish Miss Brett would fail to qualify. +The editorship means such a heap to Laura." + +"How?" + +"Her uncle who pays her expenses here is rather queer--thinks he ought to +see more results of her career. He's disappointed because she doesn't +gather in prizes as she did in the country schools. She may in her senior +year, but freshmen don't have much chance to win anything more than an +honorable record. He doesn't believe in college anyhow and consented to +send her under protest. Now he threatens to stop it if she doesn't do +something dazzling this year." + +"Poor infant! What a ridiculous attitude! But since that is the case, why +not vote her in? Lay the circumstances before the board, and they'll +elect her." + +"Oh, no, they won't. The board is altogether too scrupulous and +idealistic this season to let personal feelings interfere. You're rather +new to office as yet. Mark my words and trust me: if Miss Brett +qualifies, she will be elected. I know--and that's why I wish she +wouldn't." + +"There come the others. See that pile of manuscript. We'll be lucky if we +get away at midnight. I only hope nobody will ask me to compose a poem to +fill out a page; my head feels as if stuffed with sawdust." + +Lucine turned her head slowly to watch the group of girls wander into the +office and light the gas amid a flutter of papers and dressing-gowns +mixed with sleepy yawns and tired laughter. Then some one shut the door. +Lucine was still sitting in the shadowy window-seat, her essay clutched +tightly in her hand. + +After a minute she rose, walked toward the door, and lifted her arm as if +to knock. Then giving herself an impatient shake she swung around and +hurried down the corridor as far as the transverse. There she hesitated, +halted, half swerved to retrace her steps, stamped one foot down hard, +brought up the other beside it, and clenching both fists over the essay +fled from the neighborhood. + +When she reached her room, she paused to listen. Hearing no sound she +slipped inside, threw the essay into a drawer, locked it, and put the key +in her pocket. Then after a wistful glance around she stooped to pick up +Laura's white tam from the couch, pressed it against her cheek for a +moment, and laid it gently in the empty little chair where Laura had sat +while listening to the essay that afternoon. + +"Laura," she whispered, "I can't spare you, Laura. You shall come back +next year, and we shall room together again, you and I." + +Without a backward look toward the drawer where the manuscript lay +buried, Lucine gathered up note-book and fountain-pen and departed for +the library. She walked slowly through the long apartment, glancing into +alcove after alcove only to find every chair occupied on both sides of +the polished tables that gleamed softly in the gaslight. Finally she +discovered one of the small movable steps that were used when a girl +wished to reach the highest shelf. Capturing it she carried it to the +farther end of a narrow recess between two bookcases and doubled her +angular length into a cozy heap for an evening with Shelley's poem of +"Prometheus Unbound." That was to be the English lesson for the next day. + +As she read verse after verse, the music of the wonderful lines soothed +her restless mood, and the beauty of the thought that love and +forgiveness are stronger than selfishness lifted her to a height of +joyous exaltation. The idea of Prometheus suffering all agonies for the +sake of men came to her like a revelation. While she pondered over it, +suddenly like the shining of a great light she understood the truth of +"he that loseth his soul shall find it." The Christ-ideal of +self-sacrifice meant the highest self-realization. + +"My cup runneth over, my cup runneth over," sang Lucine in her heart, as +she read on and on. "I have been blind but now I see. It has been always +true, always, always. My cup runneth over. Listen: + + "'It doth repent me; words are quick and vain; + Grief for awhile is blind, and so was mine, + I wish no living thing to suffer pain.'" + +"Laura!" Lucine raised her head dreamily. She was unconscious of how the +evening hours had drifted past, leaving only a few lingering students +here and there in the library. She could not see the two girls bending +over the table on the other side of the bookcase behind which she was +nestling. But their voices floated mistily to her ears. + +"Laura, remember that you have promised to live with my sister next year. +Don't let Lucine coax or frighten you out of it. You have promised." + +"But if I don't come back?" + +"Well, anyway you have promised to room with Harriet if you do. We'll +choose a parlor away off at the other end of the campus from Lucine, so +that I can protect you from her demands. You've been growing thinner and +whiter all the year. Now, remember. Don't you give in to her selfishness. +She is able to take care of her precious self without killing you in the +process. Promise." + +Lucine heard a sigh. "I've promised to be her friend and I do care for +her dearly; but I want with all my heart to room with Harriet, if I can +manage to get back for next year. I'm almost sure I shan't. Now, see +here, does this verb come from vinco or vincio? I'm so sleepy I can't +read straight." + +Lucine very white about the lips was sitting erect in her corner. "My cup +runneth over, my cup runneth over," echoed faintly in her brain. "My cup +runneth over and Laura likes her best and the essay is up-stairs and I +wish no living thing to suffer pain--suffer pain. My cup runneth over. +'Pain, pain ever, forever!' I won't, I won't, I can't do it, I can't, I +can't, I can't! To sacrifice it all for her and then--and then to be +forsaken!" + +Lucine glided from the recess, passed swiftly from the library, climbed +the stairs to her room, moved toward the drawer which held the essay, and +felt for the key in her pocket. It was gone. It must have fallen out +while she read, doubled up on the low step. In wild haste now, for the +minutes were flying and the board of editors might even now have +adjourned, she hurried back to search. The green baize doors swung open +in her face, and Berta and Laura came loitering out, their arms around +each other, their heads bent close together affectionately. + +"Lucine, oh, Lucine!" Laura at sight of her slipped away from Berta, +"what is the matter? What has happened? Didn't they accept the essay?" + +Brushing her aside Lucine swept on into the library, turned into the +recess, and dropped on her knees beside the step to look for the stray +key. Her eyes fell upon the open book which lay face downward where she +had forgotten it. Then she remembered. "I wish no living thing to suffer +pain." + +It was long past ten o'clock and the corridors stretched out their dusky +deserted length from one dim gas-jet to another flickering in the +shadows, when Lucine crept back to her room. Laura raised a wide-eyed +anxious face from the white pillow. + +"Lucine, I couldn't sleep until I knew." + +The older girl sat down on the bed and drew the little figure close. + +"When you are editor, Laura, will you try to like me still? And will you +keep on forgiving me and helping--helping me to deserve to have friends? +And will you--will you teach me how to make Harriet like me too?" + +"Oh, Lucine!" Laura flung her warm arms around the bowed neck. "I know +what we shall do next year, if I can come back. The idea has just struck +me. You and Harriet and I shall room together in a firewall with bedrooms +for three!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ORIGINAL IN MATH + + +When Gertrude's brother turned up at college just before the holidays of +their senior year, he boldly asked for Bea in the same breath with his +sister's name. When the message was brought to her, that fancy-free young +person's first thought was a quick dread that Berta would tease her about +the preference. But no. Miss Abbott, chairman of the Annual's editorial +board, clasped her inky hands in relief. + +"Bless the boy! He couldn't have chosen better if he had looked through +the walls and discovered Bea the sole student with time to burn--or to +talk, for that matter. Trot along, Beatrice, and tell him that Gertrude +is coming the moment she has dug her way out of this avalanche of +manuscript. I can't possibly spare her for half an hour yet. Go and +distract his mind from his unnatural sister by means of another story." + +"Tell him about your little original in math, Bea," called Lila after +her, "that's your best and latest." + +Bea retraced her steps to thrust back an injured countenance at the door. +"I guess I am able to converse as well as monologue, can't I?" she +demanded indignantly, "you just listen." + +However, when confronted by a young man with a monosyllabic tongue and an +embarrassingly eloquent pair of eyes, she seized a copy of the last +Annual from the table in the senior parlor, and plunged into an account +of her own editorial trials. + +Gertrude is on the board for this year's Annual, you know, and Berta +Abbott is chairman. At this very moment they are struggling over a deluge +of manuscripts submitted in their prize poem contest. Of course, I +sympathize, because I have been through something of the same ordeal. The +Monthly offered a prize for a short story last fall, and we had rather a +lively sequel to the decision. Shall I tell you about it from the +beginning? At our special meeting, I read the stories aloud, because I +happen to be chief editor. Nobody said anything at first. Janet, the +business editor, tipped her chair back and stared at the piles of +magazines on the shelves opposite. Laura, who does the locals, pressed +her forehead closer to the pane to watch the girls hurrying past on their +way to the tennis tournament on the campus. Adele and Jo, the literaries, +nibbled their fountain-pens. + +I spread out the manuscripts, side by side, in a double row on the big +sanctum desk, picked up my scribbled pad, leaned back till the swivel +screw squeaked protestingly from below, and said, "Well?" + +Janet brought her chair down on all four feet with a bump. "Nary one is +worth a ten dollar prize," she declared pugnaciously, "especially now +that Robbie Belle has gone to the infirmary for six weeks and she can't +help me in soliciting advertisements." + +Laura turned her head. "Robbie Belle had promised to write up the first +hall play for me. She was going to review two books for Jo and compose a +Christmas poem for Adele's department. I think maybe there are perhaps a +dozen or so girls who might have been more easily spared." + +I brushed a hand across my weary brow. It did not feel like cobwebs +exactly,--more like cork, sort of light and dry and full of holes. I had +been up almost all night, studying over those fifteen manuscripts, +applying the principles of criticism, weighing, balancing, measuring, +arguing with myself, and rebelling against fate. If Robbie Belle had been +there she could have recognized the best story by instinct. Ever since I +became chief editor I had depended upon her judgment, because she is a +born critic and always right, and I'm not. And now just when I needed her +most of all and more than anybody else, there she had to go and get +quarantined in the infirmary. + +"Girls," I said, "do express an opinion. Say what you think. We simply +must decide this matter now, because the prize story has to go to press +before the first, and this is our only free afternoon. I know what I +think--at least I am almost sure what I think--but I want to hear your +views first. Adele, you're always conscientious." + +Adele was only a junior and rather new to the responsibility of being on +the editorial board. She glanced down at her page of notes. + +"Every one of the stories has some good points," she began cautiously. +"Most of them start out well and several finish well. Six have good +plots, nine are interesting, five are brightly written. Number seven is, +I believe--yes, I think I consider it the best. The trouble is----" + +"Altogether too jerky," interrupted Jo, "a fine plot but no style +whatever. This is a cat. See the cat catch the rat. That's the kind of +English in number seven. Now I vote for number fifteen." + +"Oh, but, Jo," I broke in eagerly, for number seven was my own laborious +choice also, and Adele's corroboration strengthened me wonderfully. "Jo, +it is the simplicity of the style that is its greatest recommendation. +You know how Professor Whitcomb has drummed into us the beauty of +Anglo-Saxon diction. It's beautiful--it's charming--it's perfect. Why, a +six-year-old could understand it. Fifteen is far too sensational for good +art. Just listen to this----" + +Jo was stubborn. "The use of short words is a mere fad," she said, "it is +like wearing dimity for every occasion. Now listen to this!" + +She snatched up one manuscript and read aloud while I declaimed from the +other. Adele listened with a pained frown on her forehead, Janet laughed +and teetered recklessly to and fro on her frisky chair, Laura fidgeted at +the window and filled every pause with a threat to leave us instanter for +the tournament positively had to be written up that day. Finally I put +the question to the vote, for Jo is so decided in her manner that she +makes me feel wobbly unless I am conscious of being backed up by Robbie +Belle. I suppose it is because my own opinions are so shaky from the +inside view that I hate to appear variable from the outside. It would +have been horrid to yield to Jo's arguments and change my ideas right +there before the whole board. The rest of them except Jo had fallen into +a way of deferring to my judgment, for I had seemed to hit it off right +almost always in accepting or rejecting contributions. Nobody knew how +much I had depended on Robbie Belle. + +The board awarded the prize to number seven, my choice, you know. Janet +was on my side because the story had a nice lively plot, and that was all +she cared about. Laura put in a blank ballot, saying that her head ached +so that it was not fair to either side for her to cast any weight upon +the scale. Adele of course voted with me. Jo stuck to number fifteen till +the end. + +"Well, that's over!" sighed Laura and escaped before any one had put the +motion to adjourn. Janet vanished behind her, and Jo picked up the +manuscript of which she was champion. + +"By the way, girls," she said, "I will return this to its writer, if you +don't mind. And I shall tell her to offer it to the Annual. The committee +will jump at the chance. Find out who she is, please." + +I slipped the elastic band from the packet of fifteen sealed envelopes +and selected the one marked with the title of the story. The name inside +was that of a sophomore who had already contributed several articles to +the Monthly. Then I opened the envelope belonging to number seven. + +"Maria Mitchell Kiewit," I read, "who in the world is she? I've never +heard of her. She must be a freshman." + +Jo who was half way out of the room stopped at the word and thrust her +head back around the door. "Did little Maria Kiewit write that? No wonder +it is simple and jerky. She's a mathematical prodigy, she is. Her mother +is an alumna of this college. See! The infant was named after our great +professor of astronomy. She wants to specialize herself in mathematical +astronomy when she gets to be a junior. Her mother was head editor of the +Monthly in her day. Maria rooms somewhere in this corridor, I believe. It +will be a big thing for her to win the prize away from all the upper +class girls. I didn't vote for her. By-bye." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Adele, clasping her hands in that intense way of hers, +"won't she be happy when she hears! A little ignorant unknown freshman to +win the prize for the best short story among eight hundred students! Her +mother will be delighted. Her mother will be proud." + +"Hist!" Jo's head reappeared. "She's coming down the corridor now. Red +cheeks, bright eyes, ordinary nose, round chin, long braid, white +shirtwaist, tan skirt--nothing but an average freshman. She doesn't look +like a mathematical prodigy, but she is one. And an author, too--dear, +dear! There must be some mistake. Authors never have curly hair." + +Adele and I poked our faces through the crack. Jo wickedly flung the door +wide open. "Walk right out, ladies and gentlemen. See the conquering +heroine comes," she sang in a voice outrageously shrill. During the trill +on the hero, she bowed almost double right in the path of the approaching +freshman. Maria Mitchell Kiewit stopped short, her eyes as round as the +buttons on her waist. + +Jo fell on her knees, lifting her outspread hands in ridiculous +admiration. "O Maria Mitchell Kiewit," she declaimed, "hearken! I have +the honor--me, myself--I snatch it, seize it--the honor to announce that +thou--thee--you--your own self hast won the ten dollar prize for the best +short story written for the Monthly by an undergraduate. Vale!" She +scrambled upright by means of clutching my skirt and put out a cordial +hand. "Nice girl! Shake!" + +"Josephine!" gasped Adele in horrified rebuke. My breath was beginning to +come fast over this insult to our editorial dignity when I caught sight +of the freshman's face. Her cheeks were as red as ever, but she had +turned white about the lips, and her eyes were really terrified. + +"Oh, I don't want it!" she cried involuntarily, shrinking away from us, +"I don't want it." + +Jo's mouth fell open. "Then why in the world----" + +The little freshman fairly ran to the alleyway leading to her room. + +Jo turned blankly to us. "Then why in the world did she write the story +and send it in?" + +Adele--I told you she was conscientious, didn't I? and inclined to be +mathematical herself--stared at the spot where Maria had disappeared. +"Such an attitude might be explained either by the supposition that she +is diffident--sort of stunned by the surprise, you understand--she never +expected to win. Or maybe she is shy and dreads the notoriety of fame. +Everybody will be looking at her, pointing her out. Or--or possibly----" +Adele hesitated, glanced around uneasily, caught my eye; and we both +dropped our lids quickly. It was horrid of us. I think it is the meanest +thing to be suspicious and ready to believe evil of anybody. But truly we +had just been reading a volume of college stories, and one was about a +girl who plagiarized some poems and passed them off as her own. And this +Maria Mitchell Kiewit had behaved almost exactly like her. + +"Or possibly what?" demanded Jo. + +Adele stammered. "Or p-p-possibly--oh, nothing! Maybe she is ashamed of +the story or something like that. She lacks self-esteem probably. She +didn't expect it to be published, you know, and--and she is surprised. +That's all. She--I guess she's surprised." + +"Come along, Adele," I slipped my arm through hers and dragged her away +from Jo's neighborhood, "you must help me reject these fourteen others. +That's the part I hate worst about this editorial business." + +"Don't you want to reconsider the decision?" called Jo, "since she +doesn't wish the prize herself, you'd better choose my girl. This is your +last chance. The committee for the Annual will surely gobble number +fifteen up quick. Berta Abbott knows good literature when she sees it. +Going, going----" + +"Let her go. Now, Adele," I said, closing the sanctum door with +inquisitive stubborn Jo safely on the outside, "here are the rest of the +names. You doubtless know some of their owners by sight, and I hope I +know others. This is how we shall manage. Whenever you see one of them +securely away from her room--maybe in the library or recitation or out on +the campus or down town or anywhere--you tell me or else run yourself and +take her manuscript and poke it under her door. I'll write a nice polite +little regretful admiring note to go with each story, and that ought to +take the edge off the blow. But be sure she is not at home. It would be +simply awful to hand anybody a rejected article right to her real face +and see how disappointed she is. I think it is more courteous to give her +a chance to recover alone and unobserved." + +"But suppose she has a roommate?" said Adele. + +"Oh, dear! Well, in that case we'll have to watch and loiter around till +they are both out of reach. It may take us all the week." + +And it actually did. It took a lot of time but it was exciting too in a +way. We felt like detectives or criminals--it doesn't matter which--to +haunt the corridors and grounds till we spied one of those girls headed +away from her room (of course we had to find out first where each one +lived), and then we scurried up-stairs and down and hung around in the +neighborhood and walked past the door, if anybody happened to be near, +and finally shoved the manuscript to its goal. Certainly I understand +that we were not obliged to take all this trouble but I simply could not +bear to send those long envelopes back through the post. Every student +who distributes the mail would have recognized such a parcel as a +rejected manuscript. And of course that would have hurt the author's +feelings. + +Naturally I was rushed that week because Thanksgiving Day came on +Thursday, and I had an invitation to go down to the city to hear grand +opera that afternoon. It was necessary to take such an early train that I +missed the dinner. That evening when I returned I found the whole +editorial board and Berta too groaning in Lila's study while Laura acted +as amanuensis for a composite letter to Robbie Belle. You see, they had +eaten too much dinner--three hours at the table and everything too good +to skip. Each one tried to put a different groan into the letter. They +were so much interested in the phraseology and they felt so horrid that +nobody offered to get me crackers or cocoa, though I was actually +famishing. + +After poking around in the family cupboard under the window seat, I +routed out a bag of popcorn. I lighted the gas stove and popped about +three quarts, and then boiled some sugar and water to crystallize it. +When you are starving, have you ever eaten popcorn buttered for a first +course and crystallized for a second? It is the most delicious thing! I +had just settled myself in a steamer-chair with the heaped up pan of +fluffy kernels within reach of my right hand, when there came a knock on +the door. + +"Enter!" called Janet. + +The knob turned diffidently and in marched Maria Mitchell Kiewit. + +Lila pushed another pillow behind Jo on the couch, Laura lifted her pen, +Janet exerted herself to rise politely. I carelessly threw a newspaper +over the corn, and then poked it off. After all, editors are only human, +and freshmen might as well learn that first as last. + +"I wish to see Miss Leigh," said the visitor in a high, very young voice +that quavered in the middle. + +I straightened up into a dignified right angle. "What can I do for you, +Miss Kiewit?" + +"I wish to withdraw my story," she announced still at the same strained +pitch, "I have changed my mind. Here is the ten-dollar bill." + +"But it went to press three days ago," I exclaimed. + +"And the Annual has gobbled up second choice," said Jo triumphantly. + +"We jumped at it," corroborated Berta. + +"To take out the prize story now would spoil the magazine," cried Adele. + +"Impossible!" declared Janet. + +"Nonsense!" said Laura under her breath. + +The little freshman stared from one to another. Then suddenly her round +face quivered and crumpled. Throwing up one arm over her eyes she turned, +snatched at the door knob and stumbled out into the corridor. + +I looked at Adele. + +"Yes," she replied to my expression, "you'd better go and find out now. +It's for the honor of the Monthly. It would be awful to print +a--a--mistake," she concluded feebly. + +Just as I emerged from the alleyway I caught sight of the small figure +fluttering around the corner of a side staircase half way down the dimly +lighted hall. I had to hurry in order to overtake her before she could +reach her own room. She must have been sobbing to herself, for she did +not notice the sound of my steps on the rubber matting till I was near +enough to touch her elbow. Then how she jumped! + +"Pardon me, Miss Kiewit. May I speak to you for one minute?" + +She nodded. I am not observant generally but this time I could see that +she said nothing because she dared not trust her voice to speak. She went +in first to light the gas. The pillows on the couch were tossed about in +disorder, and one of yellow silk had a round dent in it and two or three +damp spots as if somebody had been crying with her face against it. + +Now I hate to ask direct questions especially in a situation like this +where I wished particularly to be tactful, and of course she would be +thrust into an awkward position in case she should dislike to reply. So I +sat down and looked around and said, "How prettily you have arranged your +room!" + +The freshman had seated herself on the edge of her straightest chair. At +my speech she glanced about nervously. "My mother graduated here," she +explained, "and she knew what I ought to bring. Ever since I can +remember, she has been planning about college for me." + +"What a fortunate girl you are!" This was my society manner, you +understand, for I was truly embarrassed. I always incline to small talk +when I have nothing to say. She caught me up instantly. + +"Fortunate! Oh, me! Fortunate! When I hate it--I hate the college except +for math. My mother teaches in the high school--she works day after day, +spending her life and strength and health, so that I may stay here. I--I +hate it. She wants me to become a writer. And I can't, I can't, I can't! +I want to elect mathematics." + +"Oh!" said I. + +"When she was a girl, she longed to write, but circumstances prevented. +Then I was born and she thought I would carry out her ambition and grow +to be an author myself. She's been trying years and years. But I can't +write. I'm not like my mother. I have my own life to live. I--I hate it +so. And--and----" The child stopped, swallowed hard, then leaned toward +me, her eyes begging me. + +"And if you keep my story for the prize, she will hear about it, and she +won't let me elect mathematics for my sophomore year." + +"Oh!" I said, and I was surprised to such a degree that the oh sounded +like a giggle at the end. That made me so ashamed that I sat up a little +more erect and ejaculated vivaciously, "You--you astonish me." + +It was the funniest thing--she hung her head like a conscience-smitten +child. "I--I haven't told her about it because it would encourage her and +then later she would--would be all the more disappointed. I can't write, +I tell you." + +"The vote was almost unanimous," I remarked stiffly. + +She stared at me doubtfully. "Well, maybe that story is good but I know I +couldn't do it again. And anyhow my mother told me the plot." + +"Oh," I said. It was really the plot that had won the prize, you +understand, though indeed I had found the style eminently praiseworthy +also according to all the principles of criticism. It almost fulfilled +the rhetorical rules about unity, mass and coherence. + +"So you will let me withdraw?" she questioned timidly, "here's the ten +dollars." She held out the crumpled bill which she had been clutching all +the evening. + +I thought I might as well be going. "It's allowable to use your own +mother's plot," I assured her, "don't bother about that. Good bye." + +Without looking at her I hurried through the alleyway into the corridor, +flew past the sanctum, darted into the staircase, then halted, turned +around, stopped at the water-cooler for a taste of ice water, then walked +slowly back to her room. + +I put my head in at the door. "You heard me say, didn't you, that the +story has gone to press?" + +She lifted her face from that same yellow silk pillow. "Yes," she said. + +"All right." I started away briskly as if I thought I was going, but I +didn't. This time I turned around, went clear into the room and sat down +on the couch. + +"And anyway," I said, "you haven't any right to deceive your mother like +that. It is robbing her of a joy that she surely deserves. She has earned +it. You haven't any right not to tell her that your story won the prize. +Whether we let you withdraw it or not, it would be wrong for you to steal +that pleasure from your own mother. You are thinking merely of your own +selfish wishes." + +"No, no, no! Don't you see?" She flung herself toward me. "It is like +being a surgeon. I must cut out the ambition. I can never fulfill it. +Never, never, I tell you. The news of this prize will make it grow and +grow like a cancer or something, till it will hurt worse, maim, kill, +when I fail at last. If she would only see that I love mathematics and +can do something in that maybe some day. But in literature. Suppose I +shut myself up for years, struggle, struggle, struggle to wring out +something that isn't in me, while she wears herself out to support me. +The publishers will send it back, one after another. I can't write, I +tell you. I know it. It will be all an awful sacrifice--a useless +sacrifice, with no issue except waste of her life and my life. Don't you +see?" + +"Don't you think," said I calmly, "don't you think that you are just a +little foolish and intense?" That is what a professor said to me once and +it had a wonderfully reducing effect. So I tried it on this excited +little freshman. But the result was different. Instead of clearing the +atmosphere with a breeze of half mortified laughter, it created a +stillness like the stillness before a whirlwind. I got up hastily. "I +think I had better be going," I said. + +This time I heard the key turn in the lock behind me as I walked rapidly +away. Actually I had to hold myself in to keep from scuttling away like a +whipped puppy. That is how I felt inside. I didn't believe that she would +ever forgive me. There were two compensations for this episode in my +editorial career: one was the realization that the little freshman had +plenty of dignity to fall back on, the other was that she would not be +very likely to ask again for the return of the prize story. + +Considering that this was my sincere attitude, you may imagine how amazed +I was to hear my name called by this young person the very next morning. +She came running up to me at the instant my fingers were on the knob of +the sanctum door. Her hands were filled with those little cardboard +rhomboids, polyhedrons, prisms and so forth which the freshmen have to +make for their geometry work. + +"I'm going to do it," she began breathlessly, "I'm going to tell my +mother. Perhaps it would please her more if--if you should write me a +note on paper with the name of the Monthly at the top, you know. She used +to be an editor when she was in college. In it say that the board gave me +the prize. I think it will please her." + +"I shall be delighted," I exclaimed. Then something in the way she was +gazing down at those geometrical monstrosities (I never could endure +mathematics myself) made me want to comfort her. + +"Why, child, it won't be necessary to sacrifice math entirely. You can +elect analytics and calculus to balance the lit and rhetoric. Cheer up." + +She raised eyes brimming with tears. "My mother thinks that math has an +adverse tendency. She doesn't want me to take much science either. She +says that science deals with facts, literature with the impression of +facts." + +"Oh," I remarked. You notice that I had found occasion to use the +foregoing expletive several times since first meeting Miss Maria Mitchell +Kiewit. + +She nodded gloomily in acknowledgment of my sympathetic comprehension. +"Yes, once when I described lights in a fog as 'losing their chromatic +identity' instead of saying they 'blurred into the mist,' she asked me to +drop physics in the high school. She said it was ruinous, it was +destroying the delicacy of my perceptions." + +"Doesn't your mother ever----" I hesitated, then decisively, "doesn't she +ever laugh?" + +Maria dimpled suddenly. "Oh, yes, yes! She's my dearest, best friend, and +we have fun all the time except when she talks about my becoming a +writer. She said that now at college I could show if there was any hope +in me. She meant that this is my chance to learn to write. I--I----" She +paused and glanced at me dubiously from under her lashes. "I sent in that +story just to show her that I couldn't write. I was going to tell her I +had tried and failed." + +"Oh!" Then I chuckled, and the freshman after a moment of half resentful +pouting joined in with a small reluctant laugh. + +"It is funny," she said, "I think that maybe from your side of the affair +it is awfully funny. But----" + +I turned the knob swiftly. "No but about it. I shall write that note this +minute, and you shall mail it home at once. That is the only right thing +to do." + +"Yes." She heaved a deep, long sigh. "I know that. I have worked it all +out as an original in geometry. For instance: Given, an unselfish mother +with a special ambition for her rebellious selfish daughter. Problem: to +decide which one should sacrifice her own wishes. Let the mother's desire +equal this straight line, and the daughter's inclination equal this +straight line at right angles to the other. To prove----" + +"See here, little girl," I interrupted her kindly but firmly, "no wonder +your mother dreads the effect of mathematical studies on your tender +brain! I said farewell to geometry exactly two years and four months ago. +I did the examination in final trig three times. Comprehend? Now run into +your own room and get that letter written quick. If you are very +agreeable indeed, I may let you enclose the proof sheets, who knows?" + +"Thank you," she exclaimed in impulsive joy, "that will be lovely. Mother +will be so pleased." Then the vision of coming woe in exile from beloved +calculations descended upon her, and she hugged the paper figures so +convulsively that the sharpest, most beautiful angle of the biggest +polyhedron cracked clear across from edge to edge. They were perfectly +splendid clean edges, edges that even I could see had been formed by the +carefully loving hands of a mathematical prodigy. + +After that day came a pause in the drama (Adele declared that it was +really a tragedy caused by one life trying to bend another to its will) +until the day when the new issue of the Monthly arrived in the noon mail. +As Robbie Belle was still in the infirmary of course, the rest of the +board took hold of her share of the work. We divided the list of +subscribers between us, and started out to distribute the magazines at +the different rooms in the various dormitories. + +[Illustration: SHE WAVED AN OPEN LETTER IN HER HAND] + +Part of my route happened to include the neighborhood of the sanctum. +Just as I turned into Maria's alleyway to leave the three copies always +provided for every contributor, she came dashing out of her room in such +a headlong rush that I barely saved my equilibrium by a rapid jump to one +side. As soon as she could control her own impetus she whirled and bore +down upon me once more. + +"Mercy, mercy!" I cried, backing into a corner by the hinges and holding +my pile of magazines in front as a rampart, "don't be an automobile any +more." + +She waved an open letter in her hand. + +"Mother says I may elect all the math I want. She says I can't write a +little bit. She says that this prize story shows I can't. She says it is +awful--all except the plot, and that isn't mine, you know. She says that +the vocabulary, sentence structure, everything proves me mathematical to +the centre of my soul. She says she has always been afraid she was making +a mistake to force a square peg into a round hole. I'm the peg, you +understand. She says I needn't struggle any more, and she'll be just as +proud of a mathematical genius as of a mechanical author. She says she is +grateful for the honor of the prize, but she thinks the board of editors +made a mistake." + +I walked feebly into the room, sank on the couch, and propped myself +against that yellow silk pillow. + +"It's horrid to be an editor," I said, "especially when Robbie Belle has +to go and get taken to the infirmary just when I need her most." + +"My mother knows," chanted the little freshman, "and she says I can't +write a little bit. She says I can elect mathematics. Whoopee!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JUST THIS ONCE + + +Ellen drummed restlessly on the window pane. "I'm 'most sure it would not +matter just this once. We've had the mildest sort of a fever, and I don't +see yet why they keep us shut up so long away off here. I'm crazy to send +a letter home." + +Lila's thin shoulders gave an irritable little shrug under the silken +folds of her dressing-gown, and her finely cut features screwed for an +instant into an expression of impatient dislike. It was only for an +instant--then the mask of her conventional courtesy dropped again between +the two convalescents. + +"Why not tell the doctor or the nurse what you wish to write? They will +attend to it for you. Infection may be conveyed in a dozen ways, you +know. We are beginning to peel, and that is the worst----" + +"Oh, are we?" broke in Ellen excitedly, "are we really peeling?" She +lifted one hand and examined the wrist. "No, I'm not even beginning. +Every morning the moment I wake up I rub and rub, but it won't peel. It +simply won't. And I've got to stay here till I do. Are you peeling? +Really?" + +She darted across to her companion and seized her arm without noticing +the quiver of distaste before it lay limp in her eager grasp. + +"Oh, oh, it is, it certainly is! You are peeling. You will get through +first and be set free and go back to the girls. I shall be left here +alone. It isn't fair. We both came the same day. Think of almost six +weeks lost from college! My first spring in this beautiful place! It +doesn't mean so much to you, because you're a junior. You don't care." + +Lila had withdrawn her hand under the pretext of picking up a case knife +to sharpen her pencil. Now though her lids were lowered as she hacked at +the stubby point, she was perfectly aware of the hopeful curiosity in the +freshman's side glance at her. Lila despised the habit of side glances. +For the past few days she had felt increasing scorn of a childishness +that sought to vary by quarrels the monotony of their imprisonment. +Hadn't the girl learned yet that she--Lila Allan, president of the junior +literary society--was not to be provoked into any undignified dispute by +puerile taunts? + +"You don't care," repeated Ellen from her old position at the window. "I +guess you'd rather anyhow have all your time to write poetry instead of +studying." She glanced around just in time to see Lila's lips set in a +grimmer line as the lead in the short pencil snapped beneath a more +impatient jab of the dull knife. She laughed teasingly. + +"What's the use of writing all that stuff now? You're wearing out your +pencil fast. Aren't you afraid the paper will carry infection? Or will it +be fumigated? I think it is silly to bother about germs. Oh, dear!" She +began to drum again on the pane. "I'm so tired of this infirmary. There's +nothing to do. I can't make up poetry. My eyes ache if I try to read." +Here she paused, and Lila was aware of another side glance in her +direction. + +"My eyes ache if I try to read," repeated Ellen slowly, "and there is an +awfully interesting story over on the table." She stopped her drumming +for a moment to listen to the steady scribble behind her. The little face +with its round features so unlike Lila's delicate outlines took on a +disconsolate expression. "Do your eyes ache when you try to read," for an +instant she hesitated while a mischievous spark of daring danced into her +eyes. Then she added explosively, "Lila?" + +She had done it. She had done it at last. Never before through all the +weeks of imprisonment together had she ventured to call Miss Allan by her +first name. A delightful tingle of apprehension crept up to the back of +her neck. She waited. Now surely something would happen. + +But nothing happened except the continued scribble of pencil on paper in +the silence. Oh, dear! this was worse than she had expected. It was worse +than a scolding or a freezing or an awful squelching. It was the queerest +thing that they were not even acquainted really after the many weeks. +There was a shell around this junior all the time. It made Ellen feel +meaner and smaller and more insignificant every minute. The freshman +pressed her forehead wearily against the glass. + +"Oh, look! There come the girls. They're your friends away down on the +lawn. Miss Abbott, I think, and Miss Leigh, and Miss Sanders. See, see! +The rollicking wind and the racing clouds! Their skirts blow. They hold +on their tams. They are looking up at us. They are waving something. +Maybe it is violets, don't you think? Once I found violets in March. +Can't you smell the air almost? I'm going to open the window. I am, I am! +Who's afraid of getting chilled?" + +"I would advise you not to do anything so utterly foolhardy," spoke +Lila's frigid voice. A certain inflection in the tone made Ellen shrink +away instinctively. For an instant she looked full into the serene, +indifferent eyes, and her own seemed to flutter as if struggling against +the contempt she saw there. Then with a defiant lift of her head she +hurried to the writing table and seized the pencil which Lila had dropped +upon rising to approach the window. + +A few minutes later when the older girl turned from the greetings and +messages in pantomime with her friends below, she saw Ellen's rough head +bending over a paper. It was a needlessly untidy head. During the weeks +of close confinement and enforced companionship, she had felt her dislike +steadily growing. The girl was on her nerves. She was wholly +disagreeable. Everything about her was displeasing, her careless +enunciation, queer little face, coarse clothes, impulsive, crude ways, +even occasional mistakes in grammar. She told herself that the child had +no breeding, no manners, no sense of the fitness of things. There was no +reason why she should admit her into the circle of her intimates merely +because the two had been thrown together by the exigencies of an attack +of scarlet fever. Such a fortuitous relation would be severed in the +shortest possible time, completely and irremediably severed. Trust Lila +Allan, president of the junior literary society, to manage that. +Meanwhile she intended to leave the girl severely alone. Think of the +impudence of calling her Lila! Lila, indeed! And that hint about reading +aloud! The incredible impertinence of it! And to appropriate her pencil! +Atrocious! + +But of course she would keep on being polite. She owed that to herself, +to her position, to her self-respect. Accordingly Miss Allan busied +herself graciously about other matters till Ellen had finished her note, +addressed an envelope, and advanced with it to the window. + +She hesitated doubtfully, with one hand on the sash. + +"It won't matter just this once," she said as if arguing, "somebody will +pick it up and mail it for me. It concerns something important and +private. People are silly about infection. I'm quite sure it won't matter +just this once." She paused this time with rather an anxious little side +glance toward Lila. + +That young lady said nothing. She was engaged in contemplating with a +studiously inexpressive countenance the stub of her precious and only +pencil. It needed sharpening again. + +Ellen raised the window half an inch. "The doctor here is so foolish," +she commented with an injured air, "she's always bothering about +infection or contagion or whatever you call it. It isn't necessary +either. I know a doctor at home and he told a woman to wrap up her little +girl and bring her down to his office, and the little girl was peeling +too. He knew it wouldn't do any harm even if she did go in the street +car. He was sensible." + +Lila smothered a sigh of long suffering as she reached for the case knife +again. + +"And I am so tired," insisted Ellen with fretful vehemence. "I am bored +to death, and nobody amuses me, and my eyes ache when I try to read, and +my wrist won't peel, and all the other girls are enjoying themselves, and +my letter is awfully important and private, and mother will be so glad to +receive it, and my little sister will snatch it quick from the +postcarrier, and they'll all be glad, and there isn't the least bit of +danger, and I'm going to do it." She flung the sash wide and glanced +around for an instant with a face in which reckless defiance wrestled +with a frightened wish to be dissuaded. "I'm going to do it," she +repeated, "I'm going to do it--Lila!" + +Miss Allan raised her head with a politely controlled shiver. "Would you +mind closing the window at your earliest convenience, Miss Bright?" + +The younger girl gave her one look, then turned and leaning out over the +sill sent the envelope fluttering downward till it rested square and +white on the concrete walk far below. Lila shrugged her shoulder and +finished sharpening her pencil. + +In the course of weary time she was set at liberty. Fair and sweet and +delicate in her fresh array she walked down the corridor in the centre of +an exultant crowd of friends. In listening to the babel of chatter and +laughter, she forgot utterly her companion in imprisonment. Just once she +happened to look back from the entangling arms of Bea and Berta and +Robbie Belle, and caught sight of a forlorn little figure staring after +her from the shadows of the infirmary door. In the glow of her new +freedom and heart-warming affection, Lila nodded to her with such a +radiant smile that Ellen blushed with joy. On her journey to her room she +told herself that Miss Allan liked her after all. It was a solitary +journey, for Ellen had boarded in town till February. After moving into +the dormitory she had barely begun to make acquaintances before the ogre +of fever had swooped down upon her and dragged her away to his den in the +isolation ward. + +The vision of that smile must have remained with her through the troubled +weeks that followed; for one April evening in parlor J she ventured to +invite Miss Allan to dance. Beyond distant glimpses in the corridors and +chapel, Lila had seen nothing of her fellow convalescent. To tell the +truth, she had taken pains to avoid any chance association. Once she had +found hardly time to take refuge behind an ENGAGED sign before the +dreaded little freshman came tiptoeing shyly into the alleyway. Another +time when she spied the small face waiting with an expectant wistful half +smile at the foot of the stairs she turned to retrace her steps as if she +had suddenly recalled an errand in another direction. + +On this particular evening, Lila had been the guest of honor at a senior +birthday table. The senior whose birthday was being celebrated was chief +editor of the Monthly. She declared that she invited Lila because of the +rhymes that came in so handy to fill up several pages in the last number +of the magazine. As Lila, lovely in pale rose and blue and silver, sat at +the table gay with flowers and shaded candles, she told the story of how +she had written the verses in the infirmary. On her witty tongue the +stubby pencil, the dull knife, and the teasing midget of an impudent +freshman made a delightfully humorous tale. Even the explosive "Lila!" +and its accompanying side glance of terrified joy in the daring developed +into a picture that sent the seniors into tempests of laughter. Somehow +she did not care to mention the letter which Ellen had dropped out of the +window. + +After dinner Lila pressed on with the others to the dancing in parlor J. +The applause and admiration surrounding her made her look her prettiest +and talk her wittiest, for Lila's nature was always one that throve best +in an atmosphere of praise. She felt as if whirling through fairyland. In +the midst of the gayety of music, lights, and circling figures, she +lifted her head in gliding past the great mirror and beheld her own +radiant face smiling back at her from the flower-tinted throng. Just at +that moment through a rift in the throng she caught a glimpse of two big +troubled eyes in a queer small face atop of a drooping ill-clad form. +Half a minute later as she leaned breathless and glowing against the +mirror's gilt frame, she became aware of a timid touch on her arm. +Turning quickly she saw Ellen beside her. Her smile faded to an +expression of formally polite and distant questioning as she drew her +skirts a few inches away. + +"Will you----" the freshman swallowed once, then pushed out the words +with a desperate rush, "will you dance with me?" + +"Oh, Miss Bright," exclaimed Lila in an overwhelmingly effusive manner, +"I am so dreadfully sorry, but I regret to say that I am already engaged +for every number. Good-bye!" She slid her hand about her partner's waist +and propelled her swiftly into the concealing vortex of waltzers. + +The partner in question happened to be a certain lively and independent +young person called Bea by her friends. "Lila Allan," she scolded as soon +as she could steer their steps to a sheltered eddy in a corner, "why in +the world did you snub that poor child so unmercifully? After six weeks +together in the infirmary too! I'm downright ashamed of you. You ought to +be above snobbishness. And it isn't a point of snobbishness either. It is +plain cruelty to children. Didn't you see how you hurt her? And the poor +little thing has enough trouble without your adding to the burden." + +"Trouble?" echoed Lila uneasily. + +"Yes, trouble. Haven't you heard? Her little sister is desperately ill +with scarlet fever. Infection conveyed in a letter, I understand. A +telegram may come for her any hour. And then when she tries to cheer up, +you treat her so abominably! Lila, you are growing more and more spoiled +every day. People praise you too much. You were born with a silver spoon +in your mouth. You've improved a lot since you first began to room with +me, but still----" + +Lila had vanished. Winding her swift way between the circling pairs, she +hurried into the corridor where girls were strolling idly as they waited +for the gong to summon them to chapel. Beyond the broad staircase Ellen's +disconsolate little figure stood in the glare of the gas-jet over the +bulletin-board. + +Lila hastened toward her. "Miss Bright, oh, Miss Bright, I did not know. +I am exceedingly sorry. You will keep me posted? If there is anything +that I can do, of course--I feel--I feel--so guilty." + +Ellen raised her face. Her mouth was trembling at the corners. "I sent +the letter," she said, "I'm waiting." She winked rapidly and her odd +features worked convulsively for a moment. "If--if they telegraph----" + +"Miss Bright." It was the voice of a messenger girl who had that instant +emerged from an adjacent apartment. "Will you step into the office at +once, if you please? There is a message----" + +Ellen was gone like a flash. Lila walked across to the staircase and very +deliberately seated herself with her head resting against the banisters. +It was there that Bea found her a few minutes later when the stream of +students was beginning to set toward the chapel doors. + +Bea was startled. "Lila, what is it? You look like a ghost. Shall I get +some water?" + +Lila opened her eyes. "I think that her little sister is dead," she said. + +"Oh!" Bea clasped her hands in pity. "How can we help?" + +"I think that I killed her," said Lila. + +"What!" It was almost a shout. Then noticing that several girls turned to +stare curiously in passing, Bea put out her hand. "Come, Lila, get up. +It's time to go to chapel. You don't realize what you're saying." + +She rose obediently in mechanical response to the gesture. + +"It was my fault because I was the older and I knew the danger. She was +only a freshman. She wanted me to persuade her not to drop that letter +from the window. I could have kept her from feeling lonely. I made her +reckless. It wasn't her fault. But now her little sister is dead." + +"How do you know she is?" asked Bea. + +"A message came." + +"Hush!" They slipped into a pew near the rear of the chapel. During the +reading of Scripture, Lila sat gazing blankly straight before her over +the rows of heads, dark and fair. As if in a dream she rose with the +others for the singing of the hymn. Still as though moving in a mist, she +sank again into her seat and bowed her forehead upon the pew in front. +While the rustling murmur was subsiding into a hush before the prayer, +she stirred and lifting her face turned for one fleeting moment toward +the wide doors at the back. Ah! She raised her head higher to watch, +motionless, breathless. The doors were noiselessly swinging shut behind a +girl with a queer small face atop of an ill-clad little figure. But the +face instead of being crumpled in grief was alight with joy; and the +little figure advanced with a lilt and a swing, as if just freed from a +burden. + +The message had been a message of good tidings. + +Lila watched the child slip exultantly into a convenient corner. Then +with a sudden, swift movement the older girl dropped full upon her knees +and covered her eyes with her hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +CLASSMATES + + +Bea reached for Robbie with one arm, grasped Lila with the other, and +went skipping after the rest of the seniors over the lawn to their class +tree. She dragged them under its spreading branches to the centre of the +throng that had gathered in the June twilight. Berta was already there, +mounted on a small platform that had been built against the trunk in +preparation for the morrow's Class Day ceremonies. + +"She looks pretty decent," whispered Bea to Robbie in order to frustrate +the queer sensation in her throat at sight of the eager face laughing +above them on this last evening together before the deluge of +commencement guests. "I hope the alumnæ who are wandering around admire +our taste in presidents." + +"Maybe," Robbie spoke reflectively, "they're almost as much interested in +their classmates as we are in ours." + +"Um-m," said Bea, "why, maybe so they are. I never thought of that +before. Robbie, you're my liberal education. Now, then, attention! Berta +is raising her hand to mark time for the songs to be rehearsed for +to-morrow." + +But Berta's hand dropped at sound of a shout from across the campus. +"There!" she exclaimed, "the sophomores are coming." + +They certainly were coming, on a double-quick march, two by two, shouting +for the seniors. As they approached the shouting changed to singing. When +they reached the tree, they spread out and joining hands went skipping, +still viva voce, around the seniors who watched them, silent and smiling. +The air was sweet with the cool, spicy breath of spruces. Lila thought +that she could even smell the roses in the garden beyond the evergreens. +She lifted her face toward the soft evening sky, and her mouth grew +wistful. Bea caught a glimpse of it, and immediately became voluble if +not eloquent. + +"This is impromptu," she commented, generous with her least thoughts. "I +enjoy impromptus, except speeches--or that last lecture when the man +couldn't read his own notes. Now my history which is to astonish the +world to-morrow will doubtless glitter with extemporaneous wit which has +cost me two weeks of meditation. Likewise this impromptu on the spur of +the moment----" + +"I think it's beautiful," said Robbie. She was watching Berta's eyes as +the last lingering strains died away. Oh, dear! why did they sing that +good-bye serenade again? Berta was going to cry. Hark! A robin's twilight +call rose melodiously from the heart of a shadowy spruce. In the thrill +of it Robbie felt the sting of sudden tears. She turned to Bea. + +"Now I know how Berta feels when she listens to music. I'm beginning to +understand. But I think a robin is different from a brass band." + +"Is it now? You astonish me." Bea squeezed her understandingly, +nevertheless. "I know. Being with Lila has taught me a lot. She is like a +windharp--every touch finds a response. Berta's a violin, I guess. It +takes skill to play on her. And you--oh, I believe you're a splendid big +drum. You've been marking time for the rest of us all the four years. As +for me, I'm only an old tin horn. You need to spend all your breath to +get any music. Even then it isn't sickeningly sweet, so to speak. Still +for an audience in sympathy with the performer----" + +"That is what college has given us," put in Lila who had been listening, +"it gives us sympathy. Being with different persons, you know, and loving +them." + +"Oh, yes!" Robbie's sigh of intense assent left her breathless, "loving +them." + +"Now, then, girls!" Berta's hand was lifted again to beat time as the +clapping for the sophomores subsided. Then the seniors sang. They sang +the songs that were to be interspersed as illustrations in Bea's class +history. There was the elegant stanza which they had shouted all the way +to the mountain lake that first October at college. + + "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! kerchoo, kerchoo! + We are freshmen-- + Who are you?" + +From that brilliant composition the selections ranged through four years +of fun and sentiment with an occasional flight to the poetry of earnest +feeling as well as many a joyous swoop into hilarious inanity. + +When tired of standing around the tree, the class fluttered across the +campus to the broad stone steps in front of the recitation hall. + +Bea clung to Robbie's arm again and reached for Lila in their flight. +"I'm 'most sure we look like nymphs flying through the glades, with our +draperies blowing in the lines of swift motion. I love to run when I feel +like it. Robbie Belle, shall we ever dare to run when we get home?" + +Robbie did not hear her. From her seat on the steps she gazed at Berta +who was standing before the ranks of familiar faces, her eager face +alight with the exhilaration of the hour. Once she threw back her head, +laughing at some ridiculous verse. Her eyes sought Robbie's for an +instant, smiled, then danced away again. Robbie swallowed once, +unconsciously, and moved closer to Bea. + +In a semicircle sweeping around the group of singers, sophomores and +stray juniors and many a wandering alumna in a flower-decked hat had +gathered to listen. In a pause between the songs. Robbie surveyed them +gravely, unrecognizing any of the older guests until presently one face +stood out vaguely familiar in the clear twilight. It was a beautiful +face, framed by dusky hair beneath the wreath of crimson roses on her +hat. The eyes were dusky too and deep-set. They were staring at Robbie +with an intensity of grieving affection that contrasted sharply with the +stern, almost resentful, expression of her finely cut mouth. + +As Robbie gazed back in fascinated perplexity, the face suddenly curved +into a smile so tenderly radiant that Robbie felt quite dazzled for a +moment. Involuntarily she smiled back, while striving to grasp the dim +recollection. Who could it be? She had surely seen her before somewhere. +But where? At college? At home? Where was it? Slowly a vision grew +distinct in her groping memory. It was a vision of Elizabeth, her sister, +lifting a photograph from a pile of others. "This," she had said, "is my +Jessica. She knows all my family from their pictures, and some day she +shall come home with me and meet you your own selves. She wishes Robbie +Belle were to enter college before we finish. Robbie will be a senior +when we go back for our fifth year reunion." + +Robbie's chest heaved abruptly under the shock of identifying the face +amid the encircling throng. It was Jessica More, Elizabeth's best friend +at college. This was the June of her class reunion. Robbie Belle was a +senior. But Elizabeth was not there, as she had planned. Jessica had been +expelled before she graduated, and Elizabeth had died. + +Before the singing was over, Jessica had disappeared. Then in the rush of +last things Robbie forgot her for a time. Some of the seniors hurried +away on hospitable duties bent, for numerous relatives had already +arrived. There were to be informal gatherings in different rooms. A few +went to the Phi Beta Kappa lecture in the chapel. To tell the truth, +however, these were but few indeed, for to the seniors the last evenings +were too precious, to be wasted on mere scholarly discourse. Probably +Jessica had gone there with the rest of the alumnæ, reflected Robbie +Belle as she sat beside Berta and the others in the soft sweet darkness. +With arms intertwined they talked low or fell silent, lingering over this +farewell to the dear college days. + +"I love everybody in the class," whispered Lila once. + +"In the college," amended Bea promptly. + +"Oh, in the whole world!" exclaimed Berta. + +Robbie nodded assent so solemnly that Bea leaned down to peer at her more +closely. "A regular Chinese mandarin," she teased, "or are you nodding in +your sleep? You approve of Berta's breadth evidently. Why do people +always speak about the value of being broadened? I think it is nobler to +be deep than broad, I do. I'd rather divide my heart in four pieces than +in forty billion." + +"There are two hundred in the class," said Robbie, "and there were only +one hundred in my sister's class, but I am quite sure that they did not +love each other any more than we do." + +[Illustration: SHE HELD BOTH HANDS, SMILING] + +The next morning saw the seniors assemble at the amphitheatre which had +been prepared for the Class Day exercises. Berta was already on the +platform, assisting the committee in the arrangement of seats for the +class. Among later comers who were hurrying across the campus Bea caught +up with Robbie Belle. + +"I am hastening across the sward," she announced in cheerfully inane +greeting, "what is a sward anyhow, and why isn't it pronounced the same +as sword?" + +"It's grass," said Robbie Belle. Bea felt a speaking silence fall and +glanced up to catch the direction of her gaze. Between them and the +expanse of mingled chairs and girls around the platform against the wall +of the nearest dormitory, a stranger was moving rapidly toward them, her +eager eyes on Robbie. + +"Little Robbie Belle! I knew you last night from your picture." She held +both hands, smiling. + +Bea considered the two pairs of shoulders on a level. "Little!" she +sniffed to herself, "it must be a very old alum." + +Robbie turned to introduce her. "This is my friend, Beatrice Leigh, Miss +More. Bea, this is my sister's best friend. I remembered you too, last +night, Miss More. I remembered--I--I wondered----" Robbie's tongue +stumbled in embarrassment at the verge of candor. + +Miss More's mouth hardened slightly, though her eyes still smiled. "You +wondered how I happen to be here for the reunion of a class from which I +was expelled. Is that it? Perhaps you are unaware that I have been +reinstated. The faculty has at last reconsidered their unjust decision. +They acknowledge that it was based upon a misunderstanding. I have made +up the work at home. To-morrow I shall receive two degrees, the +Bachelor's with your class, the Master's with the post-graduates. I am +sure you congratulate me." + +"Oh!" gasped Robbie Belle, "oh, yes!" + +Bea succeeded in depressing somewhat the round-eyed stare with which she +had listened to this extraordinary speech. "I think it is perfectly +lovely, Miss More," she said. "Your class must be delighted. It is a +triumph--a splendid triumph. Oh,--ah!" She turned at the sound of a faint +call behind her: "Jessica!" + +From a group of alumnæ under a cluster of spruces, somebody was walking +quickly toward the three. Bea recognized in her a brilliant young +instructor at the college. + +"Jessica, I am--glad. How do you do?" She put out her hand. + +Miss More lifted her eyes, coolly scanned the other woman from the tip of +her russet shoes to the crown of her sailor hat, then gazed vacantly over +her head, before addressing Robbie again. + +"Then to-morrow, Robbie. Don't forget that I wish to see you after the +commencement exercises for a few minutes. There are questions I desire to +ask. Your mother is well, I hope." + +Two minutes later Robbie had reached one of the chairs and dropped into +it with a limpness strangely inharmonious with her statuesque +proportions. "Bea, they belong to the same class." + +Bea sank down beside her. "That was awful--awful. Those others were +watching her from the path. Why did she do it? I don't understand." + +Robbie passed her hand across her forehead. "I don't quite remember +everything," she said, "but I have an impression that it was Miss Whiton +who was to blame for having Miss More expelled. She was class president, +or something, and felt responsible. Elizabeth said she thought it was for +the honor of the college. She meant to do right. And now to think it was +all a mistake! Miss More will receive her degrees to-morrow." + +"Did Miss Whiton accuse her of any wrong or make complaint?" + +"No, not exactly. I think she believed that Miss More's behavior +somewhere reflected on the college, and she considered it her duty to +report the circumstances. Or maybe it was appearances--it seems now that +it must have been only appearances. That started the trouble, and Miss +More resented it. She was stubborn or indifferent about some +requirements. I don't remember quite what, and Elizabeth never liked to +talk about it. Elizabeth wrote to her every week until she--until she +left us." Robbie's lip twitched suddenly. Bea saw it and gently passing +her arm through the other's arm drew her on to join the class assembled +at the amphitheatre. + +The next day brought commencement. Bea from her place among the rows of +white-clad seniors in the body of the chapel could by bending forward +slightly catch a glimpse of Miss More's profile at the head of the front +pew at the right. When she raised her eyes she could see Miss Whiton's +coldly regular features conspicuous in their clean-cut fairness among the +younger instructors in the choir-seats behind the trustees on the +platform. Bea had never liked Miss Whiton. It seemed to her now, as she +studied the immobile face, that she had always recognized there a +suggestion of the self-righteous Pharisee. There could be nothing but +misunderstanding and antagonism between the possessor of such a +countenance and Miss More with those eyes of hers, that nose and that +mouth. Bea's labors over the classes in manners had included some +research in the subject of physiognomy. Now she leaned forward to secure +another view of that profile in the front pew. Then she settled back with +the contented sigh of an investigator whose surmise has proved correct. +Miss More's features certainly expressed an impulsive, reckless and +lovable temperament as opposed to Miss Whiton's conscientious and +calculating prudence. Oh, yes, there was conscience enough in the icily +handsome face among the instructors. It was conscience doubtless that had +driven her across the campus to speak to Miss More on Class Day morning. +Bea sighed again, this time with a faint twinge of sympathy. She +generally meant well herself. A conscience was a very queer thing--she +thought so still even if she had heard it all explained and analyzed in +senior ethics. + +"Surgite." That was Prexie's voice. The class rose in obedience to the +word. Bea found herself standing with the others while the Latin +sentences rolled melodiously over their heads. She never could translate +from hearing. Absently her glance sought the front pew where Miss More +had turned to watch them. The girl's wistful gaze caught the expression +of passionate regret in her deep-set eyes, and clung there fascinated for +an endless moment before tearing itself free. + +After it was over, after the class had filed upon the platform to receive +their diplomas, after Prexie had delivered his annual address and the +procession of graduates, alumnæ and faculty had marched out into the +golden sunshine, Bea drew aside to wait under an elm. Berta spied her and +beckoned, then came hurrying. + +"Lila is over at the doors on guard to capture the various relatives and +start them toward the cottages for dinner. The trustees entertain the +alumnæ in the main dining-room. The seniors will go to Strong Hall. +Aren't you ready?" + +"I'm getting an impression," answered Bea, "gothic portals, graceful +elms, bare-headed girls in white, sun-flecked lawns and glimpse of the +sparkling lake beyond, groups intermingling----" + +"I'll help give you that impression." + +Bea slipped nimbly out of reach in time to escape the promised pinch--or +it may have been a squeeze. + +"I've got it already--a hundred of them. You're in two or three. And +Robbie--do you see Robbie anywhere?" + +Robbie approached at the moment. "Bea, have you noticed Miss More pass? I +found something last night in my sister's college scrapbook--her +memory-bill, you know. It is something for Miss More." + +"Yes, over there half way to the main building. Look--that one in white +all alone. You can overtake her if you hurry, Robbie. Oh, Berta!" Bea +turned and held out one hand impulsively. "If you could only have seen +her eyes while she watched us in chapel! She was thinking of her own +class, how she had been driven away from them in disgrace. It was tragic. +She--she----" Bea gulped and caught herself back from falling over the +brink into the pit of palpable emotion. "In fact, I am almost sure +she--hm-m,--envied us." + +She glanced apprehensively at her companion in dread of the usual quick +teasing rejoinder; but Berta was soberly gazing after Robbie. + +"Robbie has dropped a paper, Bea," she said, "I saw it flutter. Come." + +Bea flitted across the grass, her bright hair an aureole in the sunlight. +Her fingers seized the bit of white; her eyes read the message: + + * * * * * + +"Sunday evening after Bible lecture. + +"Jessica and the rest of us are choosing mottoes to live out just for +experiment this week. + +"Marian: 'Love seeketh not her own.' (She always gets to places first.) + +"Alice: 'Is not easily provoked.' (Oh, oh!) + +"Louise: 'Is not puffed up.' (Ah!) + +"Jessica: 'is kind.' (And when she is good, she is very, very good.) + +Elizabeth: "envieth not." (My brain doesn't suit.) + +"Jessica says hers is the easiest because it means just to keep from +hating anybody, and she loves the whole college." + + * * * * * + +"Oh, I didn't mean to read it." Bea almost clapped her hand over her +impetuous eyes. "Robbie," she broke into a run, "Robbie Belle, here is +something you dropped." + +As Robbie turned at the call, one of the trustees, an elderly woman whose +white hair seemed to soften the effect of her energetic manner and keen +gaze, paused to speak to Miss More. The two seniors strolled on at a +leisurely pace while waiting for an opportunity to ask attention without +interrupting a speech. The distance intervening lessened step by step +till Bea could not help overhearing the trustee's distinct low tones. + +"----exceedingly difficult to choose between the two candidates. Their +qualifications balance distractingly. Personally I incline to Miss +Whiton, and I should very much like to see her win this unusual position. +Her original work certainly deserves it. However I know her so slightly +that I am reluctant to give my decisive vote until I learn more of her +from her contemporaries. You were in her class, Miss More, I understand." + +"Yes." + +At the smothered intensity of that simple word, Bea's head rotated +swiftly to stare at the source of it. She had never seen that beautiful +face like this before. On the campus Class Day morning it had been +friendly though with the hint of hardness about the mouth. In chapel it +had been tragic with regret over the irrevocable. Now the dusky eyes were +blazing with the light of coming triumph over an enemy at last delivered +into her power. + +"It is an exceptional distinction for so young a woman," continued the +trustee, "and because it means so much to each of the rivals, a feather's +weight of evidence may turn the scales for one or the other. I am anxious +to be impartial. I invite this discussion merely to assure myself of Miss +Whiton's irreproachable record. I wish sincerely to see her win." + +"You never heard the exact circumstances that led to my expulsion from +college?" + +The defiant ring of this abrupt question brought Bea to her sense of the +situation. She put out one hand to draw Robbie beyond earshot. But Robbie +did not notice her. She was already touching Miss More's arm. + +"Miss More, pardon me. I have hurried to give you this. I--I think +Elizabeth would have enjoyed showing it to you. I--wish--she could have +been here to-day. She would have been--glad." + +Miss More took the paper mechanically. "Thank you, Robbie Belle. Will you +wait one moment, dear? I want to speak to you." She turned again to the +older woman. "It may be an enlightening little tale," she began, "and +Miss Whiton plays a part in it. These are the facts." + +Bea watched her, fascinated. The eyes seemed to be gazing away beyond the +evergreens at old, unhappy, far-off things. Slowly they returned to +nearer objects, dropped suddenly and caught for an instant upon some one +passing by. At sight of the swift gleam of bitter recognition, Bea +followed the direction, and beheld Miss Whiton. She looked back again in +time to see a wonderful change as Miss More's glance traveled +unconsciously to the paper in her hand. + +Robbie's wistful regard was also lingering upon the paper. + +"Elizabeth loved it all--the class--the whole college." + +The trustee was evidently in haste. "And this enlightening little tale of +yours, Miss More? Pardon me for urging you on. The importance of the +issue--ah!" Bea saw her nod acquiescence in response to a gesture from +some one who was waiting at the porte cochere. "I fear I shall not have +time for it now. May I consult you later? You are sure, Miss More, that +the story is something that I ought to hear?" + +Miss More hesitated. "I don't know," she said slowly. "It may have been +merely a schoolgirl misunderstanding. I will--think it over and let you +know after the dinner. In any event, I thank you for your confidence. +Miss Whiton certainly merits the honor." + +It seemed to Bea that Miss More looked after the older woman with an +expression of half-puzzled surprise at her own indecision. Then she +turned to Robbie. + +"I remember that evening," she spoke in a curiously softened tone. +"Elizabeth sat in the glow of the drop-light and scribbled this card, +while the rest of us watched her idly, and talked, half serious, half in +fun over the novelty of choosing our mottoes. It was Elizabeth who had +proposed it. She had such a shy, sweet, humorous way of being good. +Everybody loved her." + +Robbie nodded speechlessly. After a moment she said, "The rest of your +verse is 'Love suffereth long and is kind.'" + +The deep-set eyes clouded again under the dusky hair. + +"I--have--suffered," she said slowly. + +Bea pinched her own arm in a quick agony of vicarious embarrassment. How +could a person show her feelings right out like that before anybody? What +was the use of going around talking about such things? It was not very +polite to make other people uncomfortable. Bea smothered a quick little +sob and walked on, staring straight ahead. + +It was Robbie who turned to look into the face so near her own. She saw +the clouds lift before the dawning of an exquisite smile like a ray of +sunshine after a stormy day. + +"'Love suffereth long and is kind,'" repeated the oddly gentle voice. "I +have suffered, and I will try--to be kind. I think Elizabeth would have +been glad." + +"Elizabeth is glad," said Robbie Belle. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +VICTORY + + +At her escape into the corridor Berta paused for a moment in the shadow +of the staircase to brush the excitement from her glowing face. She +winked rapidly once or twice in hopes of smothering the sparkle in her +eyes, but succeeded only in nicking a happy tear drop from her lashes. +Then she smoothed the dimple from her cheek and tried to straighten her +lips into the sober dignity proper for a senior who was on the honor list +and had just come from an interview with the critic of her commencement +essay. + +Her efforts were all in vain, however, for at the very minute that the +dimple came dancing out again and the rebellious mouth quivered back into +its joyous curves, somebody with a swift tap-tap-tap of light heels flew +down the stairs in a rustle and a flutter and darted toward Berta. + +"They've come! They're here! The Board of Editors is going to meet in the +lecture room immediately to open the boxes. Four big beautiful boxes full +of splendid great books all in green with gilt lettering. Hurry! Hurry +quick yourself! You're head literary editor. It's really your book--the +ideas, editorials, verses, farce, everything! The sale opens at five. +Everybody's crazy to see the new senior Annual. Our Annual! Oh, Berta!" +She seized the taller girl around the waist and whirled her down the hall +till loose sheets of paper from her dangling note-book flitted merrily +hither and yon. + +"Bea, take care! You're crumpling my essay." + +"Your essay? Oh, that's so! Senior president, Annual editor, honor girl, +commencement speaker, graduate fellow-heigho! She 'bore her blushing +honors thick upon her.' No wonder you look uplifted. Listen! Behold! Tell +me, do her little feet really touch the solid humble earth?" + +As mischievous Bea stopped, with anxiety and awe written large on her +saucy features to investigate Berta's shoes, a door near them opened and +a slender woman with fast-graying hair and a curiously still face +emerged. There was the ghost of a twinkle in her gray eyes. The transom +had not been entirely closed. + +"Miss Abbott, may I take that essay again, for a few minor suggestions? +If you will drop in after chapel I shall have it ready for you. Permit me +once more to congratulate you on its excellence and originality. It has +never been my pleasure to read any undergraduate work of greater +promise." She withdrew after the nicker of a quizzical smile in Bea's +direction. + +That young lady gasped and then happening to notice that her mouth was +ajar carefully closed it with the aid of both hands. + +"Berta Abbott! To have your essay praised by Miss Thorne the terrible, +who never approves of anything, and yet you stand there like a common +mortal! You live, you breathe, you walk, you talk, just the same as you +used to do! She says it has promise. I do believe that she never said as +much before about anybody except maybe Shakespeare when he was young. Oh, +just wait until she sees the Annual!" + +Berta had colored hotly. "Bea, don't tell anybody, please. Of course, I +care what she says. I care most of all--I care heaps--about her opinion +that the qualities are--are promising. But if I should fizzle out and +never amount to anything! It's all in the future, you see, and I'd be so +ashamed to have the girls quoting her now. If I shouldn't win the +fellowship, if I had to go to teaching next year and give it up----" + +Bea pounced upon her. "You're a nice sweet girl, and I love you to +distraction. Don't you worry about that fellowship, but trot up-stairs +with me this instant and help hammer the covers off those boxes. You'll +be surprised!" + +"Shall I?" said Berta idly, as she followed in Bea's eddying wake, "I +don't see how, since I read the proof and corrected the lists of names." + +"Hm!" Bea turned confidentially and shot an alarming sentence toward her +companion. "Well, I'll tell you; everything you wrote is signed. The +other editors did it last thing--sometimes your initials, sometimes your +name. It's for the sake of your reputation." + +"My reputation!" exclaimed the victim. "Oh," she groaned, "they did that? +Oh, my land! My name on everything. I shall sink through the floor. Run, +run quick!" + +The corridors were almost deserted during that recitation period. There +was no stray freshman in sight to gaze scandalized at the vision of two +reverend seniors racing toward the lecture room door. Berta dashed in +just as the chairman of the board, with hair flying and cheeks flushed +from the exertion, was brandishing a hatchet in one hand and a splintered +fragment of wood in the other. The business editor hammered away with +characteristic energy at the ragged remnants. The rest stood around +waiting as patiently as possible in their weaponless zeal. Several +glanced up and grinned provokingly at the appearance of their head +literary editor. + +"So you've heard the news, have you?" began the artist, "you look wild. +We knew you'd never consent to sign the things yourself, and it was rank +injustice to let you do the work and receive no special credit. Even the +ideas are yours, but we couldn't tag a name to them. Wish we could. That +one for the main feature--the pictures of distinguished alumnæ----" + +"Hold on!" the chairman backed into a convenient corner before Berta's +frenzied reproaches, "it's all right. We added a note of explanation. +Nobody will blame you for writing so well. And the initials are very +small anyhow. Here, look!" She made a dive for the box, ripped off a +second board with quick blows, snatched away the wrapping paper +underneath, and dislodged a handsome green volume from its snug nest. She +thrust it into Berta's hands. "It's your book really more than +anybody's--your first published book." + +Berta took it, sat down in a desk-chair near by, and turned the leaves +slowly with fingers that trembled from nervousness. + +Bea bent over her shoulder. "It seems as if that name of yours is on +every page," she teased, "pretty name, don't you think? And isn't it a +beautiful, beautiful book! Wide margins, heavy paper, clear print, fine +reproductions. Won't the girls be delighted with those pictures of the +basket ball teams! See, ah, there is the page of photographs. You +suggested that the editors should appear as the babies they used to be +forty years or so ago. What a dear little curly-head you were at the age +of two, Berta! I want to hug you." + +The embarrassment began to fade from Berta's expression as she gazed at +the baby faces before her. "That's the great thing I miss at college, +don't you, Bea? There aren't any babies here. We ought to borrow some +once in a while to vary the monotony of books. I have three little nieces +at home, you know. Such darlings! I wish I had one here now this minute." + +"Which do you choose--the baby or the book? Oh, Berta! Would you +sacrifice this book for a mere child? This beautiful, splendid, green +book with gilt lettering and your name scrawled everywhere?" + +"The oldest baby looks a good deal like that photograph of me," continued +Berta softly, "she is named after me, too. I wish you could see her. The +way she holds up her little arms and clings to you! I haven't seen her +since last September." + +"Hark!" Bea sprang from her perch on a desk-arm. "There are the girls now +clamoring for admission. It must be the hour for the sale to begin. Isn't +it fun! Fly, Berta Abbott, flee and bury your blushes. The play is now +on." + +Berta fled. She felt an impulse to creep away into some dark corner till +all the excitement--and criticism--had subsided. Of course, it was rather +pleasant, she acknowledged reluctantly to her candid self. There was +something down underneath tingling and glowing. Very likely it was +gratified vanity. Everybody liked to be praised and admired, but not too +much, for that was uncomfortable. It was like being set upon a pinnacle +and stared at. And she did care. She had worked hard and long for +success. She had proved that she could work. Now if she should be granted +the foreign fellowship, she could go on and on, step by step, till some +day perhaps she might become a famous college professor or maybe the +president of a university. That would be accomplishing a career worth +while. + +Berta never quite remembered how she screwed up resolution enough to +enter the dining-room that night and face the storm of congratulations, +affectionate jests, and laughing taunts over her eminence. The last copy +of the Annual had been sold before the gong whirred out its summons to +dinner; and dozens of dilatory students were already besieging the +chairman for an extra edition. After dinner Berta was captured for a +dance in parlor J till chapel time. The lilt of the music was still +echoing in her ears, her heart beating in happy rhythm to its harmony, +when at last she slipped into the back pew and leaned her head against +the wall, her lips relaxing in happy curves, her hands lying idle in her +lap. + +Prexie's voice sounded soothingly far away. Generally he read a chapter +first, then gave out the hymn, and after the singing he always led in +prayer. It hardly seemed worth while to listen when one's own thoughts +were so pleasant. Berta dropped her lashes to hide the shining light of +gladness. Weren't they dear, dear unselfish girls to rejoice with her and +for her! She loved them and they loved her. The best part of any triumph +was the consciousness that victory would please her friends and her +family. Her mother would be glad, and her father, the small brothers and +sisters, and even the pretty little sister-in-law. Eva would not +understand entirely, for she hated to read and cared about nothing but +the babies since Robert had died. Robert would have sympathized, since he +had loved study almost as much as he had loved Eva. When he decided to +marry, he gave up his science and went into a bank. He chose a wife and +children instead of congenial ambition. If he had lived, he would have +been glad in Berta's success. Maybe when the baby nieces grew old enough +to understand, they would be proud of their famous aunt. It was very, +very sweet to feel that people were proud of her. + +Listen! Berta straightened suddenly and then leaned forward. What was +Prexie saying? Why, he hadn't even opened the Bible yet. "--and so, as +the essays submitted in competition were all remarkably good, the judges +would have experienced great difficulty in reaching a decision if it had +not been for one exceptional even among the dozen most excellent papers. +The prize for the best Shakespearean essay has been unanimously awarded +to Miss Roberta Abbott." + +A low murmur swept over the bright-hued congregation. Several faces in +the pew before her turned to smile at Berta. She smiled back half +involuntarily and gripped her fingers together, conscious only of a +smothering sensation and a wonder that her chest kept heaving faster and +faster. It frightened her to have things happen like this one after +another. She had won the Shakespearean prize. How much was it? Thirty +dollars? Fifty? It didn't matter. She could take baby Berta to the +seashore with her. She had won. The girls would get tired of +congratulating her. + +Hark! Prexie had gone on speaking. + +"Accordingly," he was saying as Berta braced herself once more to +attention, "I am sure you will agree with me that the faculty acted +justly and wisely this afternoon in electing Miss Roberta Abbott to hold +the European Fellowship this coming year." + +The murmur this time swelled to a soft tumult of fluttering and +whispering, which broke here and there into a muffled clapping, for +everybody liked Berta. But when more faces turned in joyous nodding +toward the back pew they found no answering smile. Berta in panic had +slipped down the aisle and vanished through the swinging doors into the +dusky corridor. + +"Ah, Miss Abbott!" The messenger girl overtook her at the foot of the +broad staircase. "Here is a special delivery letter for you. It was +brought from town five minutes ago." + +Berta glanced at the address. Yes, it was from her sister-in-law as she +had expected. Eva was always falling into foolish little flurries and +rushing to consult friends and relatives by mail or wire or word of +mouth. Possibly this important communication was a request for advice +about the babies' pique coats. It could wait for a reading till Berta had +found a safe refuge from the girls who would certainly surround her as +soon as chapel was over. They would follow Robbie and Bea. + +Where could she go to escape the enthusiasm? Her room would be the first +point of attack, and Bea's the second. Ah, now she recalled Miss Thorne's +speech about calling for the commencement essay at this hour. She might +as well go there now and wait till her critic should return from +services, if indeed she had attended them to-night. + +At the door Berta knocked and bent her head to listen, then knocked +again. Still no answer. She waited another minute, her eyes absently +hovering over the plants that banked the wide window there at the end of +the transverse corridor. The evening breeze sweet from loitering in +clover fields drifted in through the open casement. Miss Thorne was very +fond of flowers. That was a queer trait in a person who seemed to care so +little for persons. There always seemed something frozen about this +gray-haired, immobile-faced woman with her stern manner and steely eyes. +Sometimes Berta thought of her as like a dying fire that smoldered under +smothering ashes. + +Berta turned the knob gently and entered. A faint rosy glow from the +lowered drop-light shone on the piles of papers and scattered books on +the library table. The curtains rippled in the sudden draught caused by +the opening of the door, and a whiff of fragrance from a jar of +apple-blossoms on the bookcase floated past the visitor. Berta glanced +around with a little shrug that was half a shiver. A room frequently +partakes of the nature of its occupant; and the atmosphere of this one +always made her heart sink with a quiver of loneliness over the strange +chill of lifelessness there in spite of the rosy drop-light, the +fluttering curtains, and the drifting breath of flowers. It was a large +room with many easy chairs in it--and they were all empty. Even when Miss +Thorne was there it seemed lonesome, perhaps because she was such a +slender little woman and so icily quiet. + +Berta chose one of the empty chairs and read the letter. Then she let the +sheets fall loose in her lap and sat there without moving while the +minutes went creeping by and the transparent curtains rippled now and +then in the evening breeze. Through the window she could see a great star +hanging above the peak of a shadowy evergreen that stirred softly to and +fro against the fading sky. Once the twilight call of a distant robin +sounded its long-drawn plaintive music, and Berta felt her lip tremble. +She raised her hand half unconsciously to soothe the ache in her throat. + +Miss Thorne glided in. "Good evening, Miss Abbott. May I add my +congratulations, or am I right in concluding that you have taken refuge +here from the persecutions of your friends? It is a great pleasure to me +to know that you will have the opportunity to keep on with your studying +this next year. You must allow me to say so much at least. And now, with +regard to the essay----" + +Berta watched the slight figure move noiselessly about in the act of +making tea. + +"I wished to call your attention particularly, Miss Abbott, to the +qualities which strike me as most promising. A vast amount of futile +effort is wasted every year by workers who have not yet recognized their +special talents. There is continual friction between the round peg and +the square hole, and vice versa. Now in your case, when you are ready to +plan your course of study for your graduate work abroad----" + +"Don't!" + +The tone was so sharp that Miss Thorne lifted her head quickly and shot a +keen glance at the girl before her. The attractive face had grown +strained and the eyes were burning restlessly. + +"What is it, Berta?" No student had ever heard her voice so soft before. +"You are in trouble." + +Berta looked at her for a moment without replying. Then she picked up her +letter, folded it carefully in its original creases, and fitted it into +the envelope. "Yes," she said at last, "I am in trouble. My sister-in-law +has lost her income from a foolish investment, entirely her own fault, +and she is utterly helpless. My parents have no money to spare. There is +nobody else but me to support her and the three babies. She writes that a +position in the high school will be vacant next year and I ought to apply +at once." + +Miss Thorne sat silent. "And there is no other way?" she asked after what +seemed a long, long time. + +"None," answered Berta. + +"You will give up the fellowship, your hopes of doing exceptional work? +You will sacrifice all your ambition and take up the drudgery of teaching +in an uncongenial sphere for the rest of your life?" + +"Well, I can't let the babies go to an orphan asylum, can I?" demanded +the girl brusquely to conceal the pain, "there is no one else, I tell +you." + +The woman rose and put both arms around the girl. "Berta, dear," she +said, "you are right. Once I hesitated at the point where you are now. I +had to choose between the demands of home and the invitation of ambition. +I let the home-ties snap, and--here is my empty room. Now there is nobody +that cares." + +Berta glanced around again with a little shiver. "There isn't any +question about it for me," she said, "I've got to take care of the +babies. And"--she straightened her shoulders suddenly as if throwing off +a weight, "it won't be so hard when I get used to the idea, because, you +see, I--love them." + +Faithful Robbie Belle had found out her refuge somehow and was waiting in +the corridor. With that comforting arm across her shoulders, Berta poured +out the story of her sudden disappointment. + +At first Robbie was silent. Then she spoke gently: "But, Berta, you have +had the four years at college, you know, and four years are a good deal. +There are thousands and thousands of girls who never have even that." + +"I know," answered Berta, her voice smothered against the convenient +shoulder. "And that thought helps--at least, I think it will help +to-morrow." + +Robbie's strong, warm hand sought and clasped Berta's nervous fingers. +"All right," she acquiesced cheerily. "Now who do you suppose wrote that +epilogue in last year's Annual? + + "'We go to meet the future, strong of soul, + In sunlight or in shadow, holding fast + The inviolable gift the years enroll; + The Past is ours; nothing can change the Past.'" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEATRICE LEIGH AT COLLEGE*** + + +******* This file should be named 25893-8.txt or 25893-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/9/25893 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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