CHAPTER XX
GRACE OVERHEARS SOMETHING INTERESTING
After the famous basketball game a marked change was noticeable in theattitude of the freshman class toward the Oakdale girls. Grace andMiriam received numerous invitations to dinners and spreads, in whichAnne was frequently included. Then the girls at Wayne Hall gave a playin which Anne enacted the role of heroine, stage manager, prompter, andproducer, besides doing all the coaching. After that her star was alsoin the ascendant and the little slights and coolnesses that had beennoticeable after Elfreda's ill-timed gossip had done its work, died anatural death.
The stout girl had lost no time in leaving Virginia. The evening afterher quarrel with the sophomore she had moved her belongings into thehall the moment she reached her room, then gone downstairs and demandedanother room. As it happened, a freshman whose cousin lived at MortonHouse had invited her to share her room. She had departed that veryafternoon and Mrs. Elwood offered Elfreda the now vacant half of herroom. Emma Dean, the tall, near-sighted freshman, occupied the otherhalf. There was a single room in the house of Mrs. Elwood's sister, butElfreda had refused to consider it. Despite the fact that there were nowfour young women at Wayne Hall with whom she was not on speaking terms,she could not bring herself to leave the house. In her inmost heart sheknew that it was because she did not wish to leave the three girls shehad repudiated, but not for worlds would she have acknowledged this tobe the case.
Several times she had been on the point of throwing her pride to thewinds and apologizing to Grace, Miriam and Anne for her childishbehavior. Then she would scoff at her own weakness and go doggedly on.Her new roommate, Emma Dean, was a cheery sort of girl who lived everyday as it came and refused to borrow trouble. She never criticized othergirls, nor did she gossip, and she was extremely thoughtful of thecomfort of her roommate. After several days of dubious speculation thestout girl decided she liked Emma, and Emma decided that Elfreda wasrather an agreeable disappointment.
There were two young women, however, who had suddenly appeared to take agreat interest in Elfreda. Alberta Wicks and Mary Hampton had metElfreda in Vinton's late one afternoon, and had made distinctlyfriendly overtures to her. At any other time she would have passed themby in disdain, but on that particular occasion, feeling gloomy anddowncast, she decided to forget her grievance against them. Then, too,she did not know them to be the girls who had sent her the anonymousletter. Grace had never told her the truth of the affair, so she playedunsuspectingly into their hands. They had invited her to have ice creamwith them, and she had insisted that they be her guests at dinner. Afterthat they had invited her to Stuart Hall to dinner and she hadentertained them at Wayne Hall one evening, greatly to the surprise ofGrace, who suddenly remembered that, after all, Elfreda was not so muchto blame as she did not know the truth. But why should these two girlsaccept the hospitality of the very girl they had tried to drive awayfrom Overton? It was a puzzle that Grace could not solve. She discussedit with Anne and Miriam but they could throw no light on the mystery.
The coming of the Easter vacation gave the three girls more pleasantmatters of which to think. This time Ruth Denton accompanied them toOakdale as Grace's guest, while Miriam invited Arline Thayer also, as asurprise to Ruth. When Arline serenely joined them at the station themorning of their departure, Ruth could hardly believe the evidence ofher own eyes.
The two weeks in Oakdale flew by on wings. With the boys and the othermembers of the Phi Sigma Tau at home, too, there were more things to doand places to go than could possibly be squeezed into that brief spaceof time. Arline Thayer, who was a joyous, irrepressible spirit,announced with conviction that Oakdale was even nicer than New York. Sheand Nora became sworn friends and the joint guardians of Hippy, whodeclared that he never would have believed there were two suchrelentless tyrants in the world, if he had not seen them face to face.
Mrs. Gray, who had been in Florida during the Christmas holidays, hadreturned in time to welcome her adopted children home. She wasespecially delighted to see Anne and would scarcely allow the quietlittle girl out of her sight. She had been greatly disappointed becauseAnne had refused to accept from her the money for her college education,but secretly exulted in Anne's independence and smiled to herself whenshe thought of a certain clause in her will that had amply provided forher adopted daughter's future welfare.
Altogether it was a vacation long to be remembered, and the fouroriginals separated with the glad thought that the next time they metit would be months instead of weeks before their little company wouldagain set their faces in opposite directions.
The night after their return to Overton, Grace, after having made aconscientious effort to study, threw down her history in despair. "Iknow a great deal more about the history of Oakdale than I do about thehistory of Rome," she sighed.
"I wish I had never heard of trigonometry," returned Anne, shutting herbook with a snap. "I can't think of anything except the good time we'vehad. Home has completely upset my student mind." She rose, laid down herbook and walked listlessly toward the window. It had been an unusuallywarm day for early spring and the night air had that suspicion ofdampness in it that betokens rain. "It will rain before morning," shedeclared. "There isn't a star in sight and the moon has gone behind acloud."
Grace joined Anne at the window. The two girls stood peering out intothe darkness of the spring night. "I feel as though I'd like to go outand walk miles and miles to-night," declared Grace.
"So do I," agreed Anne. Then glancing back at the clock, she remarked,"It's twenty minutes past ten. Too late for us to go now. We can goto-morrow night, can't we?"
Grace nodded. "We'll get our work done early, or, better still, we cango walking early in the evening and study when we come back. I wishyou'd remind me that I must call on Mabel Ashe this week. In fact, allthree of us ought to go over to Holland House."
The next day, however, Anne remembered regretfully that she had promisedto help a troubled freshman through the mazes of an especially tryingtrigonometry lesson, while Miriam had a theme to write which she hadneglected until the last minute, and had to rush through on record time.
"You're a set of irresponsible young things who don't know your own mindfrom one minute to the next," laughed Grace. "As I can't very well gowalking alone, I'll make my call on Mabel."
Directly after dinner she set out for Holland House and Mabel'sdelighted: "I'm so glad you came, Grace. Where have you been keepingyourself?" sounded very sweet to Grace, who adored Mabel and outside ofher own particular chums liked her better than any other girl she knewat home or in college. The two young women were deep in conversationwhen a rap sounded at the door. Mabel opened it, looked inquiringly atthe girl who stood outside and exclaimed contritely: "Oh, Helen, I'm sosorry I forgot all about you. I'll get ready this minute. Come in. MissHarlowe, this is Miss Burton. Grace, I wonder if you will mind making acall to-night. I promised Helen I'd take her down to Wellington Houseand introduce her to a junior friend of mine who plays golf. Helen is agolf fiend."
"So am I," laughed Grace. "I brought my golf bag to Overton, but didn'tplay much in the fall. I'm going to try it, though, as soon as theground is in shape."
"How nice!" exclaimed Helen Burton, with a friendly smile that lightedup her rather plain face and brought the dimples to her cheeks. "We canhave some nice times together. You had better come with us now."
"Thank you, I shall be pleased to go," replied Grace politely. "I havenever been in Wellington House. It is an upper class house, isn't it?"
"Yes," replied Mabel. "It is given up entirely to juniors and seniors.It is the oldest house on the campus, and very difficult to get into.Personally, I like Holland House better. I had an opportunity to getinto Wellington House last fall, but refused it." Grace noted that Mabelfrowned slightly and set her lips as though determined to shut out anunpleasant memory.
To reach Wellington House was merely a matter of crossing one end of thecampus. Grace looked about her curiously as they were ushered into t
helong, old-fashioned hall that extended almost to the back of the house.They entered the parlor at one side of the hall and sat down while Mabelexcused herself and ran upstairs after Leona Rowe, the junior she hadcome to see. She had hardly disappeared before a flaxen head was pokedin the door and a surprised voice said: "For goodness sake, HelenBurton, when did you rain down? You are just the one I want to see. Whatdo you think of to-morrow's German? I can't translate it. It'sfrightfully hard. Come up and help me, dearest."
The ingratiating emphasis she placed on the word "dearest" caused bothGrace and Helen to laugh.
"All right, I will for just two minutes. Want to come upstairs, MissHarlowe?"
Grace smilingly shook her head. "I'll stay here in case Mabel comesback."
"Thank you," returned Helen. "Miss Harlowe, this is Miss Redmond."
The two girls exchanged friendly nods. Then the flaxen-haired girl ledthe way, followed by Helen Burton, and Grace settled herself in thedepths of a big chair to await their return. As she sat idly wonderingwhat the subject of her next theme should be, the sound of voicesreached her ears, proceeding from the back parlor that adjoined the roomin which Grace sat. Two girls had entered the other room, but the heavyportieres which hung in the dividing arch, hid them from view. Thevoices, however, Grace recognized with a start as belonging to BeatriceAlden, the disagreeable junior, and Alberta Wicks of the sophomoreclass.
"I'll be glad when my sophomore year is over," grumbled Alberta Wicks."Mary and I have asked for a room here. I hope we get it. If we do wewill be able, at least, to eat our meals without the eternalaccompaniment of Miss Harlowe's and Miss Nesbit's doings. Ever sincethat basketball game, Stuart Hall has talked of nothing else."
"Are there many freshmen at Stuart Hall?" asked Beatrice Alden.
"Too many to suit me," was the emphatic answer.
"If you are so down on freshmen in general, how in the world do youmanage to endure that dreadful Miss Briggs?"
"J. Elfreda is a joke," replied Alberta. "Nevertheless, she is a veryuseful joke. In the first place, she has plenty of money to spend, andwe see to it that she spends a good share of it on us. Then, too, wecan borrow money of her. She is a great convenience. The funny part ofit is she doesn't know about that letter we wrote. For once thatpriggish Miss Harlowe did manage to hold her tongue to some purpose."
"Suppose she does find out?"
"She can't prove that we wrote the note," was the quick retort. "WhenMiss Harlowe tried to pin us to it that day at Stuart Hall I merely saidthat a number of sophomores felt justified in sending the note. Ofcourse, she drew her own conclusions, but conclusions are far fromproof, you know. She would hardly dare circulate any reports concerningit. We aren't going to bother with J. Elfreda much longer at any rate.It's getting too near warm weather to risk being bored to death. Maryexpects a check from home soon, and I've written Mother for some extramoney, so we won't need hers. Besides, I don't wish to let ouracquaintance lap over into my junior year. She's frightfully ill bred,and I'm going to begin to be more careful about my associates nextyear."
"What a frightful snob you are, Bert," said Beatrice rather disgustedly.
"Well, you are my first cousin, you know," retorted Albertasignificantly. "I never considered you particularly democratic."
"I'm not deceitful, at any rate," reminded Beatrice. "If I dislike agirl I take no pains to conceal it, and I am certainly not a grafter."
"Neither am I, Beatrice Alden, and the fact of your being my cousindoesn't give you the right to insult me. I intended to tell you about astunt we had planned for Friday night, but since you seem to be soconscientious about Miss Briggs, I shan't tell you anything."
Then a silence fell that was broken the next instant by the violent slamof the front door. Grace rose to her feet, took a step forward, pausedirresolutely, then pushing apart the heavy curtains walked into theother room. Beatrice Alden stood unconcernedly running through theleaves of a magazine she had picked up from the table.
"Miss Alden!"
The senior turned quickly, looking inquiringly, then sternly, at Grace."How long have you been here?" she said abruptly.
"I heard part of the conversation," replied Grace coldly. "When youbegan talking I recognized your voices, then I heard my name mentioned,and true to the old adage about listeners I heard no good of myself.When I heard Miss Briggs's name spoken I decided that under thecircumstances I was justified in listening further, as I intended at anyrate to announce my presence and just what I heard as soon as you twohad finished speaking. Miss Wicks's sudden departure prevented me fromcarrying out my intention as far as she was concerned. I shall, however,notify her at the earliest opportunity." Grace paused, looking squarelyat the older girl.
Beatrice Alden's expression of intense displeasure gave way to one ofreluctant admiration with dislike struggling in the background. "You areextremely frank in your statements, Miss Harlowe," she saidsarcastically.
"There is no reason why I should not be," returned Grace composedly."Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton, for reasons best known to themselves,chose to make Miss Briggs the victim of an unwomanly practical joke onthe very day of her arrival at Overton. I think you are in possession ofthe story. Miss Briggs's method of retaliation was unwise, I will admit,but Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton had no right to try to drive her fromOverton on account of it. In her distress over a certain anonymousletter she received, Miss Briggs came to me, and I, suspecting thesource from which the letter came, tried as best I could to straightenout the tangle, without allowing Miss Briggs to know who was at fault.
"Since then, unfortunately, a misunderstanding has arisen between us. Ihave now no influence whatever with Miss Briggs, and she has playeddirectly into the hands of the only two enemies she has in college. Allalong I have been certain that Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton meantmischief. What I have heard to-day confirms it. Miss Alden, you are MissWicks's cousin. I heard her say so. As a true Overton girl, will you notuse your influence with her in persuading her to abandon whatever planshe and Miss Hampton have made to annoy Miss Briggs?"
Beatrice Alden eyed Grace reflectively but said nothing.
Grace looked pleadingly at the irresponsive junior. For a moment tensesilence reigned. Then Beatrice Alden shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Miss Harlowe," she said soberly. All trace of hauteur haddisappeared. "But you know how angry Alberta was when she left here. Shewouldn't listen to me. I doubt if she speaks to me again this year. Shehas a frightful temper and holds the slightest grudge for ages. She willcarry out her plan now, merely to show me how utterly she disregards mydisapproval."
"I'm sorry, too," smiled Grace ruefully. "I shall try to see MissBriggs, but she is utterly unapproachable."
The two girls looked into each other's eyes. Then they both laughed.Beatrice Alden stretched out her hand impulsively. "We're both in anevil case, aren't we?" she laughed.
Grace met the hand half way. "But we are of the same mind, aren't we?"she asked.
"Yes," replied Beatrice simply. She hesitated, looked rather confused,then added: "I used to think I disliked you, Miss Harlowe, but I find myfeelings toward you are quite the opposite. I hope we shall some day befriends."
"I hope so, too," agreed Grace earnestly. "We have a mutual friend, youknow, in Mabel Ashe, although yours and Mabel's friendship began longbefore I came to Overton." A shadow crossed Beatrice's face. Grace notedit and interpreted it correctly. "You are very fond of Mabel, are younot, Miss Alden?" she asked.
"Very," was the short answer.
"Anne Pierson is the dearest girl friend I have in the world," declaredwily Grace. "Then two Oakdale girls who are studying in an easternconservatory of music come next, and after that Miriam Nesbit. There arealso three other girls, members of a high school sorority to which Ibelong, and a girl in Denver, who have very strong claims on myaffection. I have a number of dearest friends, you see. Some time Ishould like to tell you more of them."
Beatrice had brightened visibly as Grace talked. She n
ow felt assuredthat this attractive freshman with her clear grey eyes andstraightforward manner would never attempt to monopolize Mabel's entireattention.
At this moment Mabel's voice was heard at the head of the stairs. Shedescended, followed by Leona Rowe and Helen Burton.
"Why, hello, Bee!" cried Mabel. "I asked for you upstairs, but was toldyou were out."
"So I was," smiled Beatrice, "but I'm here now. What is your pleasure?"
"Come over to Holland House and have tea and cakes and candy, if there'sany left in the box of Huyler's that came last night. Every girl in thehouse sampled it. You know what that means."
"I'll go for my hat and coat," returned Beatrice brightly. "See you in aminute." She ran lightly up the stairs, smiling to herself. Helen andLeona rushed out in the hall to interview a girl who had just come in.Finding themselves alone for the moment Mabel turned to Grace with asolemnly inquiring air, "How did you do it?" she asked in a low tone.
"I'll tell you some other time," replied Grace. "It was a surprise tome, but the chance just happened to come and I took advantage of it."
The return of the three young women cut off further opportunity forexplanation, but as Grace walked back to Holland House, one arm linkedin that of Mabel Ashe, while Beatrice Alden, heretofore frigid andunapproachable, walked at the other side of the popular junior, shecould not help wishing a certain other tangle might be as easilystraightened.