CHAPTER VI.
KNOTTY PROBLEMS.
"I tell you things do hum in this college!" exclaimed Judy Kean, closinga book she had been reading and tossing it onto the couch with a sigh ofdeep content.
"I don't see how you can tell anything about it, Judy," said Nanceseverely. "You've been so absorbed in 'The Broad Highway' every sparemoment you've had for the last two days that you might as well have beenin Kalamazoo as in college."
"Nance, you do surely tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing butthe truth," said Judy good naturedly. "I know I have the novel habitbadly. It's because I had no restraint put upon me in my youth, and if Iget a really good book like this one, I just let duty slide."
"Why don't you put your talents to some use and write, then?" demandedNance, who enjoyed preaching to her friends.
"Art is more to my taste," answered Judy.
"Well, art is long and time is fleeting. Why don't you get busy and dosomething?" exclaimed the other vehemently. "What do you intend to be?"
Judy had a trick of raising her eyebrows and frowning at the same time,which gave her a serio-comic expression and invested her most earnestspeeches with a touch of humor. But she did not reply to Nance'squestion, having spent most of her life indulging her very excellenttaste without much thought for the future.
"What do you intend to be?" she asked presently of Nance, who had herwhole future mapped out in blocks: four years at college, two yearsstudying languages in Europe, four years as teacher in a good school,then as principal, perhaps, and next as owner of a school of her own.
"Why, I expect to teach languages," said Nance without a moment'shesitation.
"Of course, a teacher. I might have known!" cried Judy. "You'vecommenced already on me--your earliest pupil!
"'Teacher, teacher, why am I so happy, happy, happy, In my Sunday school?'"
She broke off with her song suddenly and seized Nance's hand.
"Please don't scold me, Nance, dear. I know life isn't all play, andthat college is a serious business if one expects to take the whole fouryears' course. I've already had a warning. It came this morning. It'sbecause I've been cutting classes. And I have been entirely miserable.That's the reason I've been so immersed in 'The Broad Highway.' I'vebeen trying to drown my sorrows in romance. I know I'm not clever----"
"Nonsense," interrupted the other impatiently. "You are too clever, yousilly child. That's what is the matter with you, but you don't know howto work. You have no system. What you really need is a good tutor. Youmust learn to concentrate----"
"Concentrate," laughed Judy. "That's something I never could do. As soonas I try my thoughts go skylarking."
"How do you do it?"
"Well, I sit very still and dig my toes into the soles of my shoes andmy finger nails into the palms of my hands and say over and over thething I'm trying to concentrate on."
The girls were still laughing joyously when Molly came in. Her facewore an expression of unwonted seriousness, and she was frowningslightly. Three things had happened that morning which worried herconsiderably.
The first shock came before breakfast when she had looked in herhandkerchief box where she kept her funds promiscuously mixed up withhandkerchiefs and orris root sachet bags and found one crumpled dollarbill and not a cent more. There was a kind of blind spot in Molly'sbrain where money was concerned, little of it as she had possessed inher life. She never could remember exactly how much she had on hand, andchange was a meaningless thing to her. And now it was something of ablow to her to find that one dollar must bridge over the month'sexpenses, or she must write home for more, a thing she did not wish todo, remembering the two acres of apple orchard which had been sunk inher education.
"And it's all gone in silk attire and riotous living," she said toherself, for she had bought herself ten yards of a heavenly sky bluecrepey material which she and Nance proposed to make into a grandcostume, also she had entertained numbers of friends at various timesto sundaes in the village. One of the other of her triple worries was anote she had received that morning from Judith Blount, and the third wasanother note, about both of which she intended to ask the advice of hertwo most intimate friends.
"What's bothering you, child?" demanded Judy, quick to notice any changein her adored Molly's face.
"Oh, several things. These two notes for one." She drew two envelopesfrom her pocket and opening the first one, began to read aloud:
"'DEAR MISS BROWN:
"'Since you come of a family of cooks and are expert on the subject, I am going to ask you to take charge of a little dinner I am giving to-morrow night in my rooms to my brother and some friends. I shall expect you to be chief cook, but not bottle-washer. You'll have an assistant for that; but I'd like you to wait on the table, seeing you are so good at those things. Don't bother about cap and apron. I have them. "'Yours with thanks in advance, "'JUDITH BLOUNT.'"
The note was written on heavy cream-colored paper with two Greek lettersembossed at the top in dark blue. Judith lived in the Beta Phi House,which was divided into apartments, and occupied by eight decidedlywell-to-do girls, the richest girls in college, as a matter of fact. Itwas called "The Millionaire's Club," and was known to be the abode ofsnobbishness, although Molly, who had been there once to a tea, had beenentirely unconscious of this spirit.
Judy and Nance were speechless with indignation after Molly had finishedreading the note.
"What do you think of that?" she exclaimed, breaking the silence.
"It's a rank insult," cried Nance.
"If you were a man, you could challenge her to a duel," cried Judy; "butbeing a girl, you'll have to take it out in ignoring her."
"It's written in such a matter-of-fact way," continued Molly, "that Ican't believe it's entirely unusual. After sober, second thought, Ibelieve I'll ask Sallie before I answer it."
"Speaking of angels--there is Sallie!" cried Judy, as that young womanherself hurried past the door on her way to a class.
"What is it? Make it quick. I'm late now!" ejaculated Sallie, poppingher head in at the door with a smile on her face to counteract herabrupt manner. "Who's in trouble now?"
The three freshmen stood silently about her while she perused Judith'snote.
"Did you ever hear of such a thing?" burst out Judy with hotindignation.
"Oh, yes, lots of times, little one. It's quite customary for freshmento act as waitresses when girls in the older classes entertain in theirrooms. The freshies like to do it because they get such good food. I dothink this note is expressed, well--rather unfortunately. It has a sortof between-the-lines superiority. But Judith is always like that. Youjust have to take her as you find her and ignore her faults. You'dbetter accept, Molly, with good grace. You'll enjoy the food, too.To-morrow--let me see, that's New England boiled dinner night, isn't it?You'll probably have beefsteak and mushrooms and grape fruit and icecream and all the delicacies of the season."
"Very well, if you advise it, I'll accept, like a lady," said Mollyresignedly.
"It's customary," answered Sallie, smiling cheerfully and waving herhand as she hurried down the hall.
"Well, that's settled," continued Molly sighing. Somehow, Judith Blountdid get on her nerves. "Now, the other note is even more serious in away. Listen to this."
Before reading it, she carefully closed the door, drew the other girlsinto the far end of the room and began in a low voice:
"'DEAR MISS BROWN:
"'May I have the pleasure of being your escort to the sophomore-freshman ball? Let me know whether you intend to wear one of your cerulean shades. The carriage will stop for us at eight o'clock. You might leave the answer at my door to-night.
"'Yours faithfully, "'FRANCES ANDREWS.'"
The girls looked at each other in consternation.
"What's to be done?"
"Say you
have another engagement," advised Judy, who was not averse attimes to telling polite fibs in order to extricate herself from adifficulty. But Molly was the very soul of truth, and even small fibswere not in her line.
"Hasn't any one else asked you yet?" asked Nance.
"No; you see, it's a week off, and I suppose they are just beginning tothink of partners now."
"All I can say is that if you do go with her you are done for,"announced Nance solemnly.
Molly sat down in the Morris chair and wrinkled her brows.
"I do wish she hadn't," she said.
"She just regards you as a sort of life preserver," exclaimed Judy."She's trying to keep above the surface by holding on to you. If I wereyou, I wouldn't be bothered with her."
"Of course, I know," said Molly, "that Frances Andrews did somethinglast year that put her in the black books with her class. She's tryingto live it down, and they are trying to freeze her out. Nobody hasanything to do with her, and she's not invited to anything except thebig entertainments like this. I can't help feeling sorry for her, and Idon't see how it would do me any harm to go with her. But I just don'twant to go, that's all. I'd rather take a beating than go."
"Well, then you are a chump for considering it!" exclaimed Judy, whoseself-indulgent nature had little sympathy for people who would douncomfortable things.
"Then, on the other hand," continued Molly, "suppose my going would helpher a little, don't you think it would be mean to turn her down? Oh, sayyou think I ought to do it, because I'm going to, hard as it seems."
Nance went over and put her arms around her friend, quite an unusualdemonstration with her, while Judy seized her hand and patted ittenderly.
"Really, Molly, you are quite the nicest person in the world," sheexclaimed. Then she added: "By the way, Molly, can you spare the time totutor me for a month or so? I don't know what the rates are, but we cansettle about that later. Nance tells me I must get busy or else take mywalking papers. I'd be afraid of a strange tutor. I'm a timid creature.But I think I might manage to learn a few things from you, Molly, dear."
Did Judy understand the look of immense relief which instantly appearedon Molly's sensitive face? If she did she made no sign.
"Now, don't say no," she went on. "I know you are awfully busy, and allthat, but it would be just an act of common charity."
"Say no?" cried Molly, laughing lightly. "I can hardly wait to say yes,"and she cheerfully got out six pairs of muddy boots from the closet,enveloped herself in a large apron, slipped on a pair of old gloves andwent to work to clean and black them. Molly had become officialbootblack at Queen's Cottage at ten cents a pair when they were notmuddy, and fifteen cents when they were.
When she had completed her lowly job she sat down at her desk and wrotetwo notes.
One was to Judith Blount, in which she accepted her invitation to waitat table in the most polite and correct terms, and signed her name "MaryCarmichael Washington Brown."
The second letter, which was to Frances Andrews, was also a note ofacceptance.
Then Molly removed her collar, rolled up her sleeves, kicked off herpumps--a signal that she was going to begin work--and sat down to crammathematics,--the very hardest thing in life to her and the subjectwhich was to be a stumbling block in her progress always.