CHAPTER IX
PAYING THE PIPER
"I feel as if there were about three days between Thanksgiving andChristmas," said Rachel, coming up the stairs, to Betty, who stood inthe door of her room half in and half out of her white evening dress.
"That leaves one day and a half, then, before vacation," laughed Betty."I'm sorry to bother you when you're so pressed for time, but could youhook me up? Helen is at the library, and every one else seems to be offsomewhere."
"Certainly," said Rachel, dropping her armful of bundles on the floor."I'm only making Christmas presents. Is the Kappa Phi dance coming offat last?"
"Yes--another one, that is; and Mr. Parsons asked me, to make up for theone I had to miss. Now, would you hold my coat?"
"Betty! Betty Wales! Wait a minute," called somebody just as Bettyreached the Main Street corner, and Eleanor Watson appeared, alsodressed for the dance.
"Why didn't you say you were going to Winsted?" she demandedbreathlessly. "Good, here's a car."
"Why didn't you say you were going?" demanded Betty in her turn as theyscrambled on.
"Because I didn't intend to until the last minute. Then I decided thatI'd earned a little recreation, so I telegraphed Paul West that I'd comeafter all. Who is your chaperon?"
"Miss Hale."
"Well please introduce me when we get down-town, so that I can ask if Imay join her party."
Ethel Hale received Betty with enthusiasm, and Eleanor with a peculiarsmile and a very formal permission to go to Winsted under her escort. Asthe two were starting off to buy their tickets, she called Betty back.
"Aren't you going to sit with me on the way over, little sister?" sheasked.
"Of course," said Betty, and they settled themselves together a momentlater for the short ride.
"You never come to see me, Betty," Miss Hale began, when they wereseated.
"I'm afraid to," confessed Betty sheepishly. "When you're a faculty andI'm only a freshman."
"Nonsense," laughed Miss Hale. Then she glanced at Eleanor, who satseveral seats in front of them, and changed the subject abruptly. "Whatsort of girl is Miss Watson?" she asked.
Betty laughed. "All sorts, I think," she said. "I never knew any one whocould be so nice one minute and so trying the next."
"How do you happen to know her well?" pursued Miss Hale seriously.
Betty explained.
"And you think that on the whole she's worth while?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand----" Betty was beginning to feel as ifshe was taking an examination on Eleanor's characteristics.
"You think that on the whole she's more good than bad; and that there'ssomething to her, besides beauty. That's all I want to know. She islovely, isn't she?"
"Yes, indeed," agreed Betty enthusiastically. "But she's very brighttoo. She's done a lot of extra work lately and so quickly and well.She's very nice to me always, but she dislikes my roommate and she and Iare always disagreeing about that or something else. I don't think--youknow she wouldn't do a dishonorable thing for the world, but I don'tapprove of some of her ideas; they don't seem quite fair and square,Ethel."
"Um," assented Ethel absently. "I'm glad you could tell me all this,Betty. I shouldn't have asked you, perhaps; it's rather taking advantageof our private friendship. But I really needed to know. Ah, here weare!"
As she spoke, the train slowed down and a gay party of Winsted mensprang on to the platform, and jostled one another down the aisles,noisily greeting the girls they knew and each one hunting for hisparticular guest of the afternoon. They had brought a barge down to takethe girls to the college, and in the confusion of crowding into it Bettyfound herself separated from Ethel. "I wish I'd asked her why she wantedto know all that," she thought, and then she forgot everything but thedelicious excitement of actually being on the way to a dance at Winsted.
Most of the fraternity house was thrown open to the visitors, andbetween the dances in the library, which was big enough to make anexcellent ball-room also, they wandered through it, finding all sorts ofinteresting things to admire, and pleasantly retired nooks and cornersto rest in. Mr. Parsons was a very attentive host, providing partners inplenty; and Betty, who was passionately fond of dancing and had been toonly one "truly grown-up" dance before, was in her element. But everyonce in awhile she forgot her own pleasure to notice Eleanor and towonder at her beauty and vivacity. She was easily belle of the ball. Sheseemed to know all the men, and they crowded eagerly around her, beggingfor dances and hanging on her every word. Eleanor's usually listlessface was radiant. She had a smile and a gay sally for every one; therewas never a hint of the studied coldness with which she received anyadvances from Helen or the Riches, nor of the scornful ennui with whichshe faced the social life of her own college.
"Aren't you glad you came?" said Betty, when they met at the frappetable.
"Rather," said Eleanor laconically. "This is life, and I've only existedfor months and months. What would the world be like without men andmusic?"
"Goodness! what a wise-sounding remark," laughed Betty.
Just then Miss Hale came up in charge of a very young and callowfreshman.
"Please lend me your fan, Betty," she said. "I was afraid it would lookforward for a chaperon to bring one, and I'm desperately warm."
Eleanor, who had turned aside to speak to her partner, looked up quicklyas Ethel spoke, and meeting Miss Hale's gray eyes she flushed suddenlyand moved away.
Betty handed Ethel the fan. "I wish----" she began, looking afterEleanor's retreating figure. But as she spoke the music started againand a vivacious youth hurried up and whisked her away before she hadtime to finish her sentence; and she could not get near Ethel again.
"Men do make better partners than girls," she said to Mr. Parsons asthey danced the last waltz together. "And I think their rooms areprettier than ours, if these are fair samples. But they can't have anybetter time at college than we do."
"We certainly couldn't get on at all without you girls across theriver," Mr. Parsons was saying gallantly, when the music stopped andEleanor, followed by Mr. West, hurried up to Betty.
"Excuse me one moment, Mr. Parsons," she said, as she drew Betty aside."I've been trying to get at you for ever so long," she went on. "I'm ina dreadful fix. You know I told you I hadn't intended to come hereto-day, but I didn't tell you the reason why. The reason was that to-daywas the time set for my math. exam, with Miss Mansfield. I tried to gether to change it, but I couldn't, so finally I telephoned her that I wasill. Some one else answered the 'phone for her, saying that she wasengaged and, Betty--I'm sure it was Miss Hale."
Betty looked at her in blank amazement. "You said you were ill and thencame here!" she began. "Oh, Eleanor, how could you! But what makes youthink that Miss Hale knows?"
"I'm sure I recognized her voice when she asked you for the fan, andthen haven't you noticed her distant manner?" said Eleanor gloomily."Are they friends, do you know?"
"They live in the same house."
"Then that settles it. You seem to be very chummy with Miss Hale, Betty.You couldn't reconcile it with your tender conscience to say a good wordfor me, I suppose?"
"I--why, what could I say after that dreadful message?" Then shebrightened suddenly. "Why, Eleanor, I did. We talked about you all theway over here. Ethel asked questions and I answered them. I told her alot of nice things," added Betty reassuringly, "though of course Icouldn't imagine why she wanted to know. What luck that you hadn't toldme sooner!"
Eleanor stared at her blankly. "I suppose," she said at last, "that itwill serve me right if Miss Hale tells Miss Mansfield that I was here,and Miss Mansfield refuses me another examination; but do you think shewill?"
Betty glanced at Ethel. She was standing at the other end of the room,talking to two Winsted men, and she looked so young and pretty and solike one of the girls herself that Betty said impulsively, "Shecouldn't!" Then she remembered how different Ethel had seemed on thetrain, and that the girls in her classes stood very much
in awe of her."I don't know," she said slowly. "She just hates any sort of cheating.She might think it was her duty to tell. Oh, Eleanor, why did you doit?"
Eleanor shrugged her shoulders expressively. Then she turned away with aradiant smile for Mr. West. "I am sorry to have kept you men waiting,"she said. "How much more time do we have before the barge comes?"
Whatever Miss Hale meant to do, she kept her own counsel, deliberatelyavoiding intercourse with either Ethel or Betty. She bade the girls agay good-bye at the station, and went off in state in the carriage theyhad provided for her.
"I suppose it's no use asking if you had a good time," said Bettysympathetically, as she and Eleanor, having decided to go home incomfort, rolled away in another.
"I had a lovely time until it flashed over me about that telephonemessage. After that of course I was worried almost to death, and I wouldgive anything under the sun if I had stayed at home and passed off mymath. like a person of sense."
"Then why don't you tell Miss Mansfield so?" suggested Betty.
"Oh, Betty, I couldn't. But I shan't probably have the chance," sheadded dryly. "Miss Hale will see her after dinner. I hope she'll tellher that I appeared to be enjoying life."
The next morning when Eleanor presented herself at Miss Mansfield'sclass-room for the geometry lesson, another assistant occupied the desk."Miss Mansfield is out of town for a few days," she announced. Eleanorgave Betty a despairing glance and tried to fix her attention on the"originals" which the new teacher was explaining. It seemed as if theclass would never end. When it did she flew to the desk and inquired ifMiss Mansfield would be back to-morrow.
"To-morrow? Oh no," said the young assistant pleasantly. "She's inBoston for some days. No, not this week; next, I believe. You are MissWatson? No, there was no message for you, I think."
The next week was a longer and more harassing one than any that Eleanorcould remember. She had not been blind to Betty's scorn of her action.Ever since she came to Harding she had noted with astonishment the highcode of honor that held sway among the girls. They shirked when theycould, assumed knowledge when they had it not, managed somehow to wearthe air of leisurely go-as-you-please that Eleanor loved; but they didnot cheat, and like Betty they despised those who did. So Eleanor, who afew months before would have boasted of having deceived Miss Mansfield,was now in equal fear lest Miss Hale should betray her and lest some ofher mates should find her out. She wanted to ask Lil Day or AnnetteGaynor what happened if you cut a special examination; but suppose theyshould ask why she cared to know? That would put another knot into the"tangled web" of her deception. It would have been some comfort todiscuss the possibilities of the situation with Betty, but Eleanordenied herself even that outlet. No use reminding a girl that shedespises you! If only Betty would not look so sad and sympathetic andinquiring when they met in the halls, in classes or at table. At othertimes Eleanor barricaded herself behind a "Don't disturb" sign andstudied desperately and to much purpose. And every morning she hopedagainst hope that Miss Mansfield would hear the geometry class.
The suspense lasted through the whole week. Then, just two days beforethe vacation, Miss Mansfield reappeared and Eleanor asked timidly for anappointment.
"Come to-day at two," began Miss Mansfield.
"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" broke in Eleanor and stopped inconfusion.
But Miss Mansfield only smiled absently. "Most of my belated freshmendon't express such fervent gratitude for my firmness in pushing themthrough before the vacation. They try to put me off." She had evidentlyquite forgotten the other appointment.
"I shall be so glad to have it over," Eleanor murmured.
Miss Mansfield looked after her thoughtfully as she went down the hall."Perhaps I've misjudged her," she told herself. "When a girl is sopretty, it's hard to take her seriously."
She said as much to Ethel Hale when they walked home to lunch together,but Ethel was not at all enthusiastic over Miss Watson's earnestness.
"She's very late in working off a condition, I should say," she observedcoldly.
"Yes, but I've been away, you know," explained Miss Mansfield. "Oh,Ethel, I wish you could meet him. You don't half appreciate how happy Iam."
Ethel, who had decided after much consideration to let Eleanor's affairstake their course, made a mental observation to the effect that anengagement induces shortness of memory and tenderness of heart. Then shesaid aloud that she also wished she might meet "him."
* * * * *
Time flies between Thanksgiving and Christmas, particularly for freshmenwho are looking forward to their first vacation at home. It flies fasterafter they get there, and when they are back at college it rushes onquite as swiftly but rather less merrily toward the fateful "mid-years."None of the Chapin house girls had been home at Thanksgiving time, butthey were all going for Christmas, except Eleanor Watson, who intendedto spend the vacation with an aunt in New York.
They prepared for the flitting in characteristic ways. Rachel, who wasvery systematic, did all her Christmas shopping, so that she needn'thurry through it at home. Roberta made but one purchase, an illustrated"Alice in Wonderland," for her small cousins, and spent all her sparetime in re-reading it herself. Helen, in spite of Betty's suggestionsabout leaning back on her reputation, studied harder than ever, so thatshe could go home with a clear conscience, while Katherine was tooexcited to study at all, and Mary Brooks jeered impartially at both ofthem. Betty conscientiously returned all her calls and began packingseveral days ahead, so as to make the time seem shorter. Then just asthe expressman was driving off with her trunk, she remembered that shehad packed her short skirt at the very bottom.
"Thank you ever so much. If he'd got much further I should have had togo home either in this gray bath robe that I have on, or in a white ducksuit," she said to Katherine who had gone to rescue the skirt and cameback with it over her arm.
She and Katherine started west together and Eleanor and Roberta wentwith them to the nearest junction. The jostling, excited crowd at thestation, the "good-byes" and "Merry Christmases," were great fun. Betty,remembering a certain forlorn afternoon in early autumn, laughed happilyto herself.
"What's the joke?" asked Katherine.
"I was thinking how much nicer things like this seem when you're inthem," she said, waving her hand to Alice Waite.
At the Cleveland station, mother and Will and Nan and the smallestsister were watching eagerly for the returning wanderer.
"Why, Betty Wales, you haven't changed one bit," announced the smallestsister in tones of deepest wonder. "Why, I'd have known you anywhere,Betty, if I'd met you on the street."
"Three months isn't quite as long as all that," said Betty, hugging thesmallest sister, "but I was hoping I looked a little older. Nobody evermistakes me for a senior, as they do Rachel Morrison. And I ought tolook years and years wiser."
"Nonsense," said Will with a lordly air. "Now a college girl----"
Everybody laughed. "You see we all know your theories about intellectualwomen," said mother. "So suppose you take up the suit case and escort ushome."
The next morning a note arrived from Eleanor.
"DEAREST BETTY," it ran:
"As you always seem to be just around the corner when I get into a box,I want to tell you that I rode down to New York with Miss Hale. Sheasked me to sit with her and I couldn't well refuse, though I wanted tobadly enough. She knew, Betty, but she will never tell. She said she wasglad to know me on your account. She asked me how the term had gone withme, and I blushed and stammered and said that I was coming back in adifferent spirit. She said that college was the finest place in theworld for a girl to get acquainted with herself--that cowardice andweakness of purpose and meanness and pettiness stood out so clearlyagainst the background of fineness and squareness; and that four yearswas long enough to see all sorts of faults in oneself, and change themaccording to one's new theories. As she said it, it didn't sound a bitlike preaching.
&nb
sp; "I didn't tell her that I was only in college for one year. I sent her abig bunch of violets to-day--she surely couldn't regard it as a bribenow--and after Christmas I'll try to show her that I'm worth while.
"Merry Christmas, Betty.
"Eleanor."
Nan frowned when Betty told her about Eleanor. "But she isn't a nicegirl, Betty. Did I meet her?"
"Yes, she's the one you thought so pretty--the one with the lovely eyesand hair."
"Betty," said Nan soberly, "you don't do things like this?"
"I!" Betty flushed indignantly. "Weren't there all kinds of girls whenyou were in college, Nan? Didn't you ever know people who did 'thingslike this'?"
Nan laughed. "There certainly were," she said. "I'll trust you, Betty.Only don't see too much of Miss Watson, or she'll drag you down, inspite of yourself."
"But Ethel's dragging her up," objected Betty. "And I gave her the firstboost, by knowing Ethel. Not that I meant to. I never seem to accomplishthings when I mean to. You remember Helen Chase Adams?"
"With great pleasure. She noticed my youthful appearance."
"Well, I've been all this term trying to reform her clothes, but I can'timprove her one bit, except when I set to work and do it all myself. Ishould think you'd be afraid she'd drag me into dowdiness, I have to seeso much of her."
Nan smiled at the dainty little figure in the big chair. "I don't noticeany indications yet," she said. "It took you an hour to dress thismorning, exactly as it always does. But you'd better take care. What areyou going to do to-day?"
"Make your friend Helen Chase Adams a stock for Christmas," announcedBetty, jumping up and pulling Nan after her. "And you've got to help,seeing you admire her so much."