CHAPTER IX.
RUMORS AND MYSTERIES.
How many warm-hearted, impetuous people get themselves into holesbecause of those two qualities which are very closely allied indeed;and Molly Brown was one of those people. Carried away by emotions ofgenerosity, she found herself constantly going farther than she realizedat the moment. Why, for instance, could she not have put Frances Andrewsoff with an excuse for a day or so? Some one would surely have asked herto the Sophomore-Freshman ball.
And if she had only liked Frances, matters would have been different.If it had been an act of friendship, of deep devotion. But in spiteof herself, she could not bring herself to trust that strange girl,beautiful and clever as she undoubtedly was, and sorry as Molly wasfor her. After all, it was rather selfish of Frances to have obtainedthe promise from Molly. Did she think it would reinstate her in theaffections of her class to be seen in the company of the popular youngfreshman?
All this time, Molly said nothing to her friends, but on the morning ofthe ball she could not conceal from Judy and Nance her apprehension andgeneral depression. And seeing their friend's lack-lustre eye anddrooping countenance, they held a counsel of war in Judy's smallbedroom.
At the end of this whispered conference, Judy was heard to remark:
"I'm afraid of the girl, to tell you the truth. Her fiery eyes and hertwo-pronged tongue seem to take all the spirit out of me."
"I'm not afraid of her," said Nance, who had a two-pronged tongue of herown, once she was stirred into action. "You wait here for me, and when Icome back, you can go and notify the sophomores of what's happened. Ofcourse, Molly will get to the ball all right. The thing is to extricateher from the situation by the most tactful and surest means."
Judy laughed.
"No," she answered, "the thing is not to let Molly know we have savedher life."
"If Frances hadn't done that witch's stunt and said all those maliciousthings at Molly's Kentucky spread, I don't think I should have minded somuch. And do you know, Judy, that the report has spread abroad that sheand Molly had prepared the whole thing beforehand, speeches and all andwere in league together? You see, Molly was the only one who wasn'thit."
"You don't mean it," cried Judy. "Then, more than ever, I want to sparethe child the humiliation she might have to suffer if she went withFrances to-night. Go forth to battle, Nance, and may the saints preserveyou."
Nance girded her sweater about her like a coat of mail, stiffened herbackbone, pressed her lips together and marched out to the fray. Shenever told even Judy exactly what took place between Frances and her inthat small room, with its bewildering array of fine trappings, silvercombs and brushes, yellow silk curtains at the window, Turkish rugs,books and pictures. No one had ever seen the room except Molly the nightof the spread, when it was too dark to make out what was in it.
There was no loud talking. Whatever was said was of the tense quietkind, and presently Nance emerged unscathed from the encounter.
"She made me give my word of honor not to tell what was said," sheannounced to the palpitating Judy, "but she's writing the note to Mollynow; so go quickly and inform someone that Molly has no escort for theball."
Judy departed much mystified and Nance remained discreetly away from herown room until she perceived Frances steal down the hall, push a noteunder their door and then hurry back, bang her own door and lock it.
Then, after a moment's grace, Nance marched boldly to their chamber.Molly was reading the note.
"What do you think, Nance?" she exclaimed with a tone of evident reliefin her voice, "Frances Andrews can't go to-night."
"Indeed, and what reason does she give?" asked Nance, feeling very muchlike a conspirator now that she was obliged to face Molly.
"None. She simply says 'I'm sorry I can't go to-night. Hope you'll enjoyit. F. A.' How does she expect me to get there, I wonder, at theeleventh hour?"
Nance examined her finger nails attentively.
"Perhaps she's seen to that," she replied after a pause.
"Nance," said Molly, presently, "I'm so relieved that I think I'll haveto 'fess up. It's mean of me, I know, and I feel awfully ungenerous tobe so glad. You see, nobody can ever tell what strange, freakish thingshe's going to do. Of course she was the witch. I knew it from theconscious look that came into her face when I told her about itafterwards."
"The mistake she has made is being defiant instead of repentant," saidNance. "Instead of trying to brazen it out, she ought to 'walk softly,'as the Bible says, and keep quiet. She is the most embittered soul Iever met in all my life. If hatred counted for much, her hatred for herown class would burn it to a cinder."
There was a sound of hurrying footsteps on the stairs and Judy burstinto the room. Her face was aflame and she flung herself into a chairpanting for breath.
"What's your hurry?" asked Molly, slipping on her jacket. "Excuse me, Imust be chasing along to French. Tell her the news, Nance."
No need to tell Judy news, who had news of her own.
"I tell you, Nance," she exclaimed, "there are times when I think theposition of a freshman is one of the lowliest things in life. The firstsophomore I met was Judith Blount. I did feel a little timid, but I toldher what had happened. 'You can tell your friend,' she said, 'that wesophomores are not so gullible as all that, and if her nerve has failedher at the last moment, it's her fault, not ours.'"
"Why, Judy," exclaimed Nance, "you didn't know you were jumping from thefrying pan right into the fire when you told that to Judith Blount, whohas never liked Molly from the beginning. It's jealousy, pure andsimple, I think; although there almost seems to be something more behindit sometimes. She takes such pains to be disagreeable. Was anyone elsethere to hear you?"
"Oh, yes. She was surrounded by her satellites, Jennie Wren and a fewothers."
The two girls sat in gloomy silence for a few minutes. After thatrebuff, they hardly cared to circulate the bit of news any further inthe sophomore class, which, it must be confessed, had the reputation ofbeing run by a clique of the most arrogant and snobbish set of girlsWellington College had ever known.
"Let's go and tell our woes to nice old Sally Marks," suggested Judy,and off they marched in search of the good-natured funny Sally, whoseroom was on the floor below.
"Come in," she called at their tap on the door, and noticing at oncetheir serious faces, she exclaimed:
"I declare, I am beginning to feel like the Oracle at Delphi. What's thetrouble, now, my children?"
"You ought never to have gone to Judith Blount," she continued afterthey had unburdened their secrets. But having gone to her, "it would bewell," so spake the Oracle, "to sit back and hold tight. The news iscertain to spread, and of course only Judith and her ring would believethat Molly sent you out to find her an escort. There is one thing sure:Molly is obliged to go to the dance, not only because she has so manyfriends, but because she figures, I am told, so largely in 'Jokes &Croaks,' and it would be sport spoiled if she wasn't there when thethings are read out. Now, trot along, children, I'm cramming for anexam., and I'm busier than the busiest person in Wellington to-day."
The afternoon dragged itself slowly along. Nance took her best dress outof its wrappings, heated a little iron and smoothed out its wrinkles.She lifted Molly's blue crepe from its hanger and laid it on the couch.
"It was made in the simplest possible way out of the least possiblegoods in the least possible time," she informed Judy, who had wickedlycut a class and sat moping in her friend's room. "Isn't it pretty? Wemade it together, and I'm really quite puffed up about the result. It'sEmpire, you know," she added proudly.
The dress did indeed show the short Empire waist. The round neck was cutout and finished with a frill of creamy lace which Molly happened tohave, and there had not been much of a struggle with the sleeves, whichcame only to the elbow and were to all intents and purposes shapeless.But the color was the thing, as Molly had said.
"I'd be willing to drown in a color like that," Judy observed. Judy wasqu
ite a _poseuse_ about colors and assured her friends that she couldnever wear red because it inflamed her temper and made her cross; thatviolet quieted her nerves; green stirred her ambitions, and blue arousedher sympathies. While they were looking at the dress, Margaret Wakefieldand Jessie Lynch, her roommate and boon companion, after rapping on thedoor, sailed into the room.
"We came to consult about clothes," they announced. "Is this to be anevening dress affair, or what's proper to wear?"
"The best you have," replied Judy, "at least that's what I was told bythe oracular Sally below stairs."
"For the love of heaven, don't tell that to Jessie," cried Margaret. "Ifyou give her so much rope, she'll be wearing purple velvet and cloth ofgold."
Jessie laughed good-naturedly. She was already considered the bestdressed and prettiest girl in the freshman class, and it was a joke atQueen's Cottage that she had been obliged to apply to the matron formore closet room, because the large one she shared with MargaretWakefield was not nearly adequate for her numerous frocks. It had been aconstant wonder to the other girls in the house that these two oppositetypes could have become such intimate friends; but friends they were,and continued to be throughout their college course, although Jessienever could rake up an interest in the U. S. Constitution or woman'ssuffrage, either.
The two girls really formed a sort of combination of brains and beauty,and it became generally known that Jessie would hardly have pulledthrough the four years, except for the indefatigable efforts of herfaithful friend, Margaret.
Mabel Hinton, a Queen's Cottage freshman, now popped her head in at thedoor, which was half open. She was a very odd character, but she waspopular with her friends, who called her "The Martian," probably becauseshe had a phenomenal intellect and wore enormous glasses in tortoiseshell frames which made her eyes look like a pair of full moons.
"I thought I heard a racket," she said in her crisp, catchy voice. "Isuppose you are all discussing the news."
"News? What news?" they demanded.
She closed the door carefully and came farther into the room.
"Gather around me, girls," she said mysteriously, enjoying theircuriosity.
"But what is it, Mabel? Don't keep us in suspense," cried Judy, alwaysimpatient.
"Well, there is evidence that someone was going to set fire to thegym. to-night," she began, in a whisper. "This morning a bundle ofoil-soaked rags was discovered in a closet, and then they began tosearch and found several other bundles like the first. There was a lotof excitement, and the Prex came over. They tried to keep it quiet, butthe story leaked out, of course, and is still leaking----" she smiled.
The girls exchanged horrified glances. What terrible disaster might nothave befallen them if the rags had not been discovered?
"Of course it was the work of an insane person," said MargaretWakefield.
"Of course, but who? Is she one of the students or some outside person?"
With a common instinct, Judy and Nance looked up at the same moment.Their glances met. Without making a sound, Judy's lips formed the word"Frances."
"Is the dance to take place, then?" asked Jessie.
"Oh, yes. It's all been hushed up and things will go on just as usual.I'm going to look on from the balcony. I shan't mingle with thedancers, because they knock off my spectacles and generally upset myequilibrium."
The door opened and Molly appeared in their midst like a gracefullyangular wraith, for her face looked white, her shoulders drooped andher long slim arms hung down at her sides dejectedly.
"Why, Molly, dear, has anything happened to you?" cried Nance.
"No, I won't say that nothing has happened," answered Molly, sinkinginto a chair and resting her chin on her hand. "I have been put throughan ordeal this day, why, I can never tell you, but I am glad you are allhere so that I can tell you about it."
They pressed about her, full of sympathy and friendliness, while Judy,who loved comfort and recognized the needs of the flesh under the mosttrying circumstances, lit Nance's alcohol lamp and put on the kettle tomake tea.
"But what is it?" they all demanded, seeing that Molly had fallen into asilence.
"I've been with the President for the last hour," she said, "though forwhat reason I can't explain. I can't imagine why I was sent for andbrought to her private office. She was very nice and kind. She asked mea lot of questions about myself and all of Queen's girls. I was gladenough to answer them, because we have nothing to be ashamed of, havewe, girls?" Molly rose and stood before them, spreading out her handswith a kind of deprecating gesture. The circle of faces before heralmost seemed abashed under the steady gaze of her clear blue eyes. "Itwas a pleasure to tell her what nice girls were stopping at Queen'sCottage."
"Did she mention?" began Judy and pointed to the dividing wall of thenext room.
"Oh, yes, I was coming to that. But what do I know about----" Molliestopped short and caught her breath. Her eyes turned towards the door,which was opened softly. There stood Frances Andrews.
She had evidently just come in, for she still wore her sweater and tamo' shanter, and brought with her the smell of the fresh piney air.
"It's all right about your escort for to-night, Miss Brown. You are togo with Miss Stewart, who has got special privilege from the sophomorepresident to take you. Good-bye. I hope you'll have a ripping time. Ishan't see you at supper. I'm going off on the 6.15 train and won't beback until Sunday night."
There was such a tense feeling in the circle of freshmen as Francesstood there, that, as Judy remarked afterwards, they almost crackledwith electricity.
It was quite late, and as most of the girls intended to dress for theparty before supper, they took their departure immediately without anycomment.
"Is anything special the matter?" asked Molly, after they had gone andshe was left alone with her friends.
They told her the strange story which Mabel Hinton had reported to thema little while before.
"But that is the work of a lunatic," exclaimed Molly, horrified.
"And I suppose," went on Nance, "that the reason Prexy sent for you wasthat she suspected a certain person, who shall be nameless, and she wastold that you were the only person who had ever been nice to her, andfurthermore that you were going to the dance with her."
"Of course that must be the reason," said Molly, "and of course it'sabsurd, I mean suspecting Frances Andrews. She might be accused of manythings, but she is certainly in her right mind. She's much cleverer thanlots of the girls in her class."
"Clever, yes. But should you call her balanced?"
Molly did not answer. She felt anxious and frightened, and a rap on thedoor at that moment made her jump with nervousness. It proved to be oneof the maids of the house with two boxes of flowers, both for Molly. Onewas pink roses and contained the card of Mary Stewart, and the other wasviolets, and contained no card whatever.
She divided the violets in half and made her two friends wear them thatnight to the dance.