CHAPTER XXII
CAMPUS CONFIDENCES
After the Easter vacation there seemed very little left of the collegeyear. Spring overtook the Overton girls unawares, and golf, tennis,Saturday afternoon picnics and walking tours crowded even basketball offtheir schedule. It was delightful just to stroll about the fast-greeningcampus arm in arm with one's best friend under the smiling blue of anApril sky. It was ideal weather for planning for the future, but it wasanything but conducive to study.
"It's a good thing we work like mad in the winter," grumbled ElfredaBriggs, giving her Horace a vindictive little shove that sent it slidingto the floor. "I can't remember anything now, except that the grass isgreen, the sky is blue--"
"Sugar is sweet, and so are you," supplemented Miriam Nesbit slyly.
"That wasn't what I was going to say at all," retorted Elfredareprovingly.
"Then I beg your pardon," returned Miriam, with mock contrition. "Whatwere you going to say?"
"Nothing much," grinned Elfreda, "except that I was weighed to-day andI've lost five pounds. I am down to one hundred and forty-five poundsnow. If I can lose five pounds more this summer I shall be in finecondition for basketball next fall."
"You did splendid work on the sub team this year," replied Miriamwarmly. "I am sure that you will make the regular team next fall."
"The upper class girls say they have very little time for basketball,"mused Elfreda. "All kinds of other stunts crowd it out. I'm not going tobe like that, though. I love to play and I shall manage to find time forit."
"Where is Grace to-night?" asked Elfreda. "I didn't see her at dinner."
"She had a dinner engagement with Mabel Ashe."
"Vinton's?" asked Elfreda.
Miriam nodded.
"Grace is lucky," sighed Elfreda. "She is always being invited tosomething or other. Her dinner partners always materialize, too," sheadded ruefully.
"Which is more than can be said of some of yours," laughed Miriam."Strange you never found out about that, isn't it?"
It was Elfreda's turn to nod. "I have often thought I would go to MissAtkins and ask her why she left me to languish dinnerless in my roomafter inviting me to eat, drink and be merry," mused Elfreda. "I hate togo home with the mystery unsolved. I believe I will go ask her now," shedeclared, with sudden energy. "I know she's alone, for the Enigma isn'tthere to-night." Elfreda had recently bestowed this title upon MildredTaylor on account of her inexplicable attitude toward Grace.
"I have been disappointed in little Miss Taylor," remarked Miriamslowly. "I was so sure that she would prove another Arline Thayer. Shehad the same fascinating little ways and at first she seemed sogenuinely frank and straightforward."
"I wonder what made her change so suddenly," said Elfreda, walking tothe door, "and toward Grace, especially. She doesn't speak to Grace whenshe meets her. She is an Enigma and no mistake. Now for our friend theAnarchist. If I don't come back within a reasonable length of time youwill know that I have been annihilated."
Ten minutes went by, then ten more. At the end of half an hour Miriamwondered slightly at her roommate's continued absence. Just before timefor the dinner bell to ring, Elfreda burst into the room with: "Miriam,will you help me to dress? I am invited to dinner and this time I amgoing. The An--Miss Atkins has forgiven me, peace has been restored andwe are going out to dine, arm in arm." Elfreda pranced jubilantly aboutthe room, then flinging open the door of the wardrobe brought forth twolarge boxes that had come by express the day before, one of themcontaining her new spring hat, the other a smart suit of natural pongee.
The Two Boxes Contained Elfreda's New Suit and Hat.]
"Stop hurrying for a minute and give me a true and faithful account ofthis miracle," demanded Miriam. "I had begun to think the worst hadhappened. What did you say first, and what did she say?"
"The door of her room stood partly open and I knocked on it, thenmarched in without an invitation," replied Elfreda. "She was sosurprised she forgot to be angry, and before she had time to rememberthat she didn't like me I surprised her still further by asking her totell me why she had refused to speak to me for so long. Before she knewit she had stammered something about Grace and I calling her names andmaking fun of her behind her back when she had asked me in all goodfaith to have dinner with her at Vinton's. She declared she had heardus.
"The instant she said that I remembered that I had mimicked her thatnight while dressing and that Grace had laughed, but had said in thesame breath, that it wasn't fair. So I asked her point blank if that waswhat she meant, and she said 'yes,' only she hadn't waited long enoughto hear what Grace had said about unfairness. She had come to the doorjust in time to hear me mimic her, and had rushed back to her room angryand hurt. Then I explained to her that I had a bad trick of imitatingeven my friends, and that I had offended more than one person by mythoughtlessness. I was really dreadfully sorry and asked her to forgiveme. She had half a mind not to do it, then she relented, smiled a littleand actually offered me her hand. Of course, after that I stayed a fewminutes to talk things over with her and she proposed going to dinner.She is changed. In just what way I can't explain, except that she ismore gentle and not quite so prim. Will you look in the top drawer ofthe chiffonier and see if I put my gold beads in that green box? Youknow the one I mean."
Miriam obediently opened the drawer and taking the beads from the boxdeftly fastened them about Elfreda's neck. "Grace will be glad to hearof this," she remarked. "May I tell her and Anne?"
"Yes," returned Elfreda, "but please don't tell any one else." Pinningon her new hat she hurried off to keep her long-delayed engagement withthe now thoroughly pacified Anarchist.
When the dinner bell rang, Miriam suddenly remembered that of the fourfriends she was the only stay-at-home that night. Anne had gone to takesupper and spend the evening with Ruth Denton. As she took her seat atthe table she noted that Emma Dean's and Mildred Taylor's places werealso vacant.
"Where is everyone to-night?" asked Irene Evans, who sat oppositeMiriam.
"Grace, Anne and Elfreda were all invited out this evening," answeredMiriam. "I don't know anything about Miss Dean and Miss Taylor."
"Emma is spending the evening with her cousin, that other Miss Dean ofRalston House," replied Irene. "Miss Taylor," she shrugged her shouldersslightly, "is with Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton, I suppose."
"I don't think I shall overstudy to-night," announced Miriam, a littlelater, as she rose from the table. "I'm going for a walk. Want to gowith me?"
"I'm sorry," replied Irene regretfully, "but I've a frightfully hardchemistry lesson ahead of me to-night."
It had been an unusually balmy April and now that the moon was at thefull, the Overton girls took advantage of the fine nights to walk up anddown College Street or the campus. Sure of finding some one she knew,Miriam slipped on her sweater, and, disdaining a hat, strolled down thestreet toward the campus. Exchanging numerous greetings with students,she wandered aimlessly across the campus toward a seat built against atree where she and Grace had had more than one quiet session.
As she neared the seat, which was somewhat in the shadow, she gave alittle startled exclamation. A girl was crouching at the darkest end ofthe seat, her face hidden in her hands. Turning away, Miriam was aboutto recross the campus when the utter despondency of the girl's attitudecaused her to go back. Stopping directly in front of the bowed figure,she said gently, "Can I help you?"
The girl rose, and without answering was about to hurry away, whenMiriam, after one swift glance at her face, ran after her, exclaiming,"Wait a moment, Miss Taylor!"
Mildred Taylor stopped and eyed Miriam defiantly. Despite her expressionof bravado, she looked as though she had been crying. "What do youwant?" she asked in a low voice.
"To talk with you," said Miriam boldly, stepping forward and slippingher arm through Mildred's. "Shall we sit down here and begin? All myfriends have deserted me to-night. There were ever so many vacant placesat the dinner table. I noticed you were
away, too."
"I--I--have--haven't had any dinner," faltered Mildred. Then, staringdisconsolately at her companion for an instant, she dropped her head onher arm and gave way to violent sobbing. "I am so miserable," shewailed.
Miriam sat silent, touched by Mildred's distress, yet undecided what todo. Things were evidently going badly with the "cute" little girl. "Shehas done something she is sorry for," was Miriam's reflection. After aslight deliberation she said gently, "Is there anything you wish to tellme, Miss Taylor?"
Mildred raised her head, regarding Miriam with troubled, hopeless eyes.Miriam took one of the little girl's hands in hers. "Do not be afraid totell me," she said earnestly. "I am your friend."
"You wouldn't be if you knew what a miserable, contemptible coward Iam," muttered Mildred. "I can't tell you anything. Please go away." Herhead dropped to her arm again.
Miriam, still holding her other hand, patted it comfortingly. "No one isinfallible, Miss Taylor. I once felt just as you do to-night. Only I amquite sure that my fault was much graver than yours can possibly be."
Mildred raised her head with a jerk. She looked at Miriam incredulously."I don't think _you_ ever did anything very contemptible," she saidsceptically.
"Let me tell you about it," replied Miriam soberly. "Then you can judgefor yourself. The person whom I wronged has long since forgiven me, butI can never quite forgive myself or forget. It was during my first yearin high school that I began behaving very badly toward a new girl in thefreshman class, of whom I was jealous. I was the star pupil of the classuntil she came, then she proved herself my equal if not my superior inclass standing, and I tried in every way to discredit her in the eyes ofher teachers and her friends. At the end of the freshman year, a sum ofmoney was offered as a prize to the freshman who averaged highest in herfinal examinations. Feeling sure that this other girl would win it, Imanaged, with the help of some one as dishonest as myself, to gainpossession of the examination questions, but before I had finished withthem, I was obliged to drop them in a hurry, to escape discovery by theprincipal. By the merest chance the girl I disliked happened along justin time to be suspected of tampering with the papers. But she hadfriends who fought loyally for her and cleared her of the suspicion.
"She won the prize. Nothing was ever said to me about it, but I knewthat the principal and at least four girls in school knew what I haddone. When I entered the sophomore class in the fall I felt a positivehatred for this girl and for her friends. I did all sorts of cruel,despicable things that year, and succeeded in dividing my class into twofactions who opposed each other at every point.
"Toward the last of the year I grew tired of being so disagreeable. Myconscience began to trouble me seriously. Then, one day, the two girls Idespised did me a great service, and my enmity toward them died outforever.
"I can't begin to tell you how differently I felt after I hadacknowledged my fault and been forgiven. Those girls are my dearestfriends now. You know them, too."
"You--you don't mean Miss Harlowe and Miss Pierson?" asked Mildred in alow tone, her eyes fixed upon Miriam.
Miriam nodded. "Grace and Anne are the most charitable girls I everknew," she said softly, "If they were not they would never have forgivenme. Anne was the girl who won the prize. Grace was one of the friendswho stood by her. If you feel that you have done some one an injustice,you will not be happy until you have righted matters. If the personrefuses to forgive you, you at least will have done your part."
"I can't go to the--the--person and tell her," faltered Mildred. "Ishould die of humiliation."
"But you don't wish to go away from Overton carrying this burden withyou," persisted Miriam. "It will weigh heavily upon you when you comeback next fall--"
"I'm not coming back next fall," mumbled Mildred. "I shall never againbe happy at Overton."
"Brace up, and square things with the other girl, and you'll feeldifferently," retorted Miriam.
"If it were any one else besides Miss Harlowe," began Mildred.
"Oh, I am so sorry you told me her name!" exclaimed Miriam regretfully."Now that I know it is Grace, however, I shall redouble my advice aboutgoing to her. You need have no fear that she will not forgive you. Gracenever holds grudges."
"I can't do it," declared Mildred tremulously, "I am afraid."
Miriam looked at her companion rather doubtfully. "I think Grace is theperson with whom to talk this matter over," she declared. "Suppose we goover to Wayne Hall now? She went to dinner at Vinton's with Mabel Ashe,but she must be at the hall by this time."
"Oh, I can't," gasped Mildred nervously, "Yes, yes, I will if you willcome with me while I tell her."
"I think it would be better for you to go to her by yourself," saidMiriam dubiously.
"I can't do it," protested Mildred miserably. "Please, please come withme."
"Then, let us go now," returned Miriam decisively. "We may catch Graceat home and alone."
During the walk across the campus the two girls exchanged no words.Mildred was trying to summon all her courage in order to make thedreaded confession.
Miriam was thinking of the day that belonged to the long ago when shehad confessed her fault, and, joining hands with Anne Pierson and GraceHarlowe, had sworn eternal friendship. She felt only the deepestsympathy for the unhappy little girl at her side, for having beenthrough a similar experience she understood clearly the struggle thatwas going on in Mildred's mind.
Twice the little freshman stopped short, declaring she could not andwould not go on, and each time, with infinite patience, Miriam buoyedand restored to firmness her shaking resolution.
"You do not know Grace Harlowe," Miriam said as they neared Wayne Hall,"or you would not be afraid to go to her and tell her what you have justtold me. She is neither revengeful nor unforgiving, and I am sure thatshe will be only too glad to help you begin all over again."
"But not here at Overton," quavered Mildred.
"You can decide that later," Miriam said kindly, as they entered thehouse. But she smiled to herself, for she felt reasonably sure thatMildred would come back to Overton for her sophomore year.