CHAPTER XI.
EXMOOR COLLEGE.
Busy days followed the sophomore-freshman ball. The girls were "gettinginto line," as Judy variously expressed it; "showing their mettle; andputting on steam for the winter's work." The story of the incendiary hadbeen reported exaggerated and had gradually died out altogether. FrancesAndrews had returned to college, more brazenly facetious than ever,breaking into conversations, loudly interrupting, making jokes which noone laughed at except Molly and Judy out of charity. She was a strangegirl and led a lonely life, but she was too much like the crater of asleeping volcano, which might shoot off unexpectedly at any moment, andmost of the girls gave her a wide berth.
The weather grew cold and crisp. There was a smell of smoke in the airfrom burning leaves and from the chimneys of the faculty homes whereinwood fires glowed cheerfully.
At last Saturday arrived. It was the day of the excursion to Exmoor, andit was with more or less anxiety regarding the weather that the threegirls scanned the skies that morning for signs of rain. But the heavenswere a deep and cloudless blue and the air mildly caressing, neither toocold nor too warm.
"It is like the Indian summers we have at home," exclaimed Molly, when,an hour later, they turned their faces toward the village through whichthe trolley passed.
Mabel Hinton, passing them as they started, had called out:
"Art off on a picnic?"
And they had answered:
"We art."
Some other girls had cried:
"Whither away so early, Oh?"
And they had cried:
"To Exmoor! To Exmoor, for now the day has come at last!" paraphrasing asong Judy was in the habit of singing.
Indeed the day seemed so perfect and joyous that they could hardly keepfrom singing aloud instead of just humming when they boarded the trolleycar.
Through the country they sped swiftly. The valley unfolded itself beforethem in all its beauty and the misty blue hills in the distance seemedto draw nearer. Over everything there was a sense of autumn peace whichcomes when the world is drowsing off into his deep sleep.
"Exmoor!" called the conductor at last, and the three girls stepped offat a charming rustic station. With a clang of the bell which rang outharshly in the still air, the car flew on.
The three girls looked at the empty station. Then they looked at eachother with a kind of mock consternation, for nothing really mattered.
"Where is Dodo?" asked Judy, with the smile of the victor, since she hadpredicted only a few moments before that Dodo might by this time havebecome so frightened at his boldness that he would suddenly becomeextinct like his namesake, the dodo-bird.
"Well, if Dodo is really extinct," said Molly, "we'll just take a littlewalk back through the fields. Epimenides thought nothing of it. Heexpects to walk to-day and meet us at lunch."
But Dodo was not extinct that morning, and they beheld him now runningdown the steep road as fast as his heavy boots could carry him.
"Behold, his spirit has risen from its fossil remains and he now walksamong us in the guise of a man," chanted Judy.
"Don't make us laugh, Judy, just as the poor soul arrives without enoughbreath to apologize," said Nance, and the next instant the embarrassedyoung man stood before them blushing and stammering as if he had beencaught in the act of picking a pocket or committing some other slightcrime which required explanation.
"I'm terribly sorry--have you waited long?--the schedule was changed--Ididn't know--you should have come half an hour later--I don't meanthat--I mean I wasn't ready--" he broke off in an agony of embarrassmentand the girls burst out laughing.
"Don't you be caring," said Judy. "We're here and nothing else reallymatters."
"I shouldn't have thought the station of a man's college could be sodeserted," observed Molly, looking about the empty place.
Dodo assured her that plenty of people would be there in half an hour,when the train arrived; just then everybody was either in the villageon the other side of the buildings, or down on the football groundswatching the morning practice game. There was to be a real game thatafternoon.
"You see, it's only a small college," he went on. "There are only twohundred and fifty in all. The standards are so high it's rather hard toget in, but we are heavily endowed and can afford to keep up thestandards," he added proudly.
They climbed the road to the college almost in silence and in tenminutes emerged on a level elevation or table land which commanded aview of the entire countryside. Here stood the college buildings, builtof red brick, seasoned and mellowed with time. They were a beautifuland dignified group of buildings, and there was a decidedly old worldatmosphere about the place and the campus with splendid elm trees.Molly had once heard Judith Blount refer to Exmoor as that "one-horse,old-fashioned little college," and she was not prepared for anything sofine and impressive as this.
Nor was she prepared for the surprise of Miss Green, sister of ProfessorEdwin and Dodo. The girls had pictured her a middle-aged spinster,having heard she was older than the Professor himself, who seemed athousand to them. And here, waiting for them, in the living room of theChapter House, was a very charming and girlish young woman with Edwin'sbrown eyes and cleft chin and George's blonde hair; the ease andgraciousness of one brother and the youthful fairness of the other. Shehad come down from New York the night before especially to meet them,she said.
Rather an expensive trip, they thought, for one day's pleasure, since ittook about seven hours and meant usually one meal and of course at nighta berth on the sleeper.
"At first I thought I couldn't manage it for this week," she continued,"but Edwin was so insistent and no one has ever been known to refuse himanything he really wanted."
Edwin! But why Edwin? Why not the youthful and blushing Dodo? So Mollywondered, while they were conducted over the entire college; thebeautiful little Gothic chapel with its stained glass windows; throughthe splendid old library which was much smaller than the one atWellington, but much more "atmospheric" as Judy had remarked; thenthrough the dormitories where they remained discreetly in the corridors,and finally back to the Chapter House, in which George lodged with somethirty schoolmates.
There on the piazza was Professor Edwin Green waiting for them. He hadmade an early start, he said, and walked the whole distance in less thanthree hours. Some other young men came up and were introduced, and theentire gay party, Nance shyly sticking closely beside Miss Green, wentoff to view the village, which was a quaint old place well worthvisiting, they were told.
The train had evidently come in, and crowds of people were hurrying upthe road. There was a sound of a horn and a coach dashed in sight filledwith students wearing crimson streamers in their buttonholes.
"It's a crowd of Repton fellows come over to see their team licked,"George explained, "but look, Edwin, here comes Dickie Blount. I thoughthe was in Chicago."
"Evidently he isn't," said the Professor, his eyes smiling, his mouthserious. It was Richard Blount, the hero of the ham bone, and hestraightway attached himself to Molly and declined to leave her sidefor the rest of the day.
"Don't tell me that that delightful, joking, jolly person is brother toJudith," whispered Judy in Molly's ear.
Molly nodded.
"There's no family resemblance, but it's true, nevertheless."
Motor cars and carriages of all varieties now began to arrive. The wholecountryside had turned out to see the great game between the two localcollege teams, and the Wellington girls pinned green rosettes in theirbuttonholes to signify that their sympathies were all for Exmoor.
"It's the most exciting, jolliest time I ever had in all my life," criedMolly to Professor Green, who walked on her other side. "And to think Ihave never seen a football game before in all my life."
"I must draw a diagram for you and show you what some of the plays are,or you will be in a muddle," said the Professor, looking at her gravely,almost, as Molly thought, as if she were one of his English Literaturepupils.
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p; At lunch, according to the etiquette of the place, George and his guestswere placed at the senior table. There was no smoking nor loud talkingand the students behaved themselves most decorously, although Georgeconfided to Judy that ordinarily pandemonium prevailed.
After lunch they started for the grounds in a triumphal procession; forour Wellington freshmen and their chaperone had an escort of at leastfour or five young men apiece. Nance looked bewildered and shy andhappy; Judy was never more sparkling nor prettier, and Molly was in hergayest, brightest humor.
They had hardly left the Chapter House behind them and proceeded ina snake-like procession across the campus, when a black and prancing,though rather bony, steed dashed up bearing a young lady in afaultlessly fitting riding habit. It was Judith Blount.
Nobody looked particularly thrilled at Judith's appearance, not evenJudith's brother, and Judy almost exclaimed out loud:
"Bother! Why couldn't she stay at home just once?"
"How do you do, Cousin Grace?" called Judith from her perch. "I heardyou were going to be down and I couldn't resist riding over to see you."
"How are you, Judith? I'm so glad to see you," answered Cousin Grace ina tone without much heart to it. "Why didn't you come sooner? We've justfinished lunch."
"Thanks, I had a sandwich early. I suppose you are off for the grounds.Go ahead. I'll get Cousin Edwin to help me tie up this old animalsomewhere. We'll follow right behind."
Molly was almost certain that Cousin Edwin was about to place thisoffice on the shoulders of his younger brother, but glancing again atthe flushed and happy face of Dodo at the side of Judy, the Professorrelented and dropped behind to look after his relation.
Never had Molly been so wildly excited as she was over the footballgame that afternoon. It was a wonderful picture, the two teams linedup against each other; crowds of people yelling themselves hoarse; thebattle cry of the Repton team mingling with the warlike cry of theExmoor students. The cheer leaders at the heads of the cheer sectionsmade the welkin ring continuously. At last a young man, who seemed tobe a giant in size and strength, dashed like a wild horse across theRussian steppes straight up the field with the ball under his arm, andfrom the insane behavior of the green men, including Professor EdwinGreen and his fair sister, Molly became suddenly aware that the gamewas over and Exmoor had won.
The cheering section could yell no more, because to a man it had lostits voice; but, oh, the glad burst of song from the Exmoor students asthey leaped into the field and bore the conquering giant around on theirshoulders. And, oh! the dejection of the men of crimson as they stalkedsadly from the scene of their humiliation.
At last the whole glorious day was over and the girls found themselveson the way to the trolley station. Richard Blount and his cousin, MissGreen, had hastened on ahead. They were to take the six o'clock trainback to New York.
"Cousin Edwin, why can't you hire a horse in the village and ride backto Wellington with me?" asked Judith, when they paused at the ChapterHouse for her to mount her black steed.
"Because I'm engaged to take these young ladies home by trolley,Judith," answered the Professor firmly.
Judith leaped on her horse without assistance, gave the poor animal asavage lash with her whip and dashed across the campus without anotherword.
The ride back at sunset was even more perfect than the morning trip.The Professor of English Literature appeared to have been temporarilychanged into a boy. He told them funny stories and bits of his owncollege experiences, and made them talk, too. Almost before they knewit, the conductor was calling: "Wellington!"