A DOUBTFUL VICTORY
During the walk to Wayne Hall, Elfreda could scarcely keep pace with
Grace's flying feet. She made no complaint, however, but kept sturdily
at her companion's side, holding her breath and closing her lips tightly
to keep from panting. Grace ran into her own room for a moment, then
back to Elfreda, who stood waiting in the upstairs hall.
"Shall I leave you here?" she asked in a low tone as Grace returned, a
second folded paper in her hand.
"No," replied Grace. "I think it would be well for you to go with me. I
don't know any one else I'd rather have," she added honestly.
"Thank you," bowed Elfreda, flushing and looking embarrassed at the
compliment. "I'll never desert Micawber--Harlowe, I mean."
"Look serious. I am ready," said Grace softly. Then she knocked
imperatively upon the door. There was a tense moment of waiting, then
the door was opened by Kathleen West herself. Her sharp face looked
still sharper as she eyed her visitors with ill-concealed disapproval.
"Good evening, Miss West," said Grace with distant politeness. "If you
are not too busy, can you spare Miss Briggs and me a few moments? We
have something of grave importance to say to you."
"Please make your business as brief as possible," snapped Kathleen,
holding the door as though ready to close it in their faces the instant
they stated their errand.
"Thank you," said Grace with unruffled calm. "We had better step inside
your room, for a moment, at least. The hall is hardly the place for what
I have to say."
The newspaper girl darted a swift, appraising glance at Grace. Her
shrewd eyes fell before the steady light of Grace's gray ones. "Come
in," she said shortly, then in a sarcastic tone, "Shall I close the
door?"
"It would be better, I think," returned Grace in quietly significant
tones.
The color flooded Kathleen West's sallow face. Her eyes began to flash
ominously. "Your tone is insulting, Miss Harlowe!" she exclaimed.
"I answered your question, Miss West," returned Grace evenly. "However,
I did not come here to quarrel with you. My errand has to do with the
articles you write for the Sunday edition of your paper which you sign
'Elizabeth Vassar.' Miss Briggs has been following them for some time
with a great deal of interest. This afternoon she found a part of what
is evidently copy for an article."
Before Grace could go on Kathleen West had turned imperatively toward
Elfreda. "Give it to me at once," she commanded. "I have hunted high and
low for it. Your finding it is very strange, I must say. I am sure it
was never off my desk."
Elfreda half closed her eyes and regarded the newspaper girl with the
air of one viewing a rare curiosity for the first time. "Then your desk
must be on the hall floor just outside the door," was her dry retort.
"At least that is where I found this paper." A certain significant ring
in the girl's voice admitted of no contradiction. For a brief interval
no one spoke. Then Elfreda said smoothly, "As we appear to understand
that point, go on, Grace."
"Give me my copy," reiterated Kathleen sullenly, before Grace had a
chance to continue.
"Miss West," returned Grace very quietly, "Miss Briggs and I have read
the copy which Miss Briggs found, and I have come here to say that you
will be doing not only yourself but a great many other girls an
injustice if you make public Miss Thayer's plans for the girls who
remain at Overton for the holidays. Miss Thayer wishes the girls to feel
perfectly independent in this matter, and whatever she contributes
privately toward it is strictly her own affair. If this article appears
on the school and college page, some of these girls are sure to hear of
it and feel humiliated and resentful, particularly if the rest of the
article is as callously cruel as its beginning."
Kathleen West laughed disagreeably. "That is not my affair. I have
agreed to furnish my paper with snappy college news. This makes a good
story. To supply my paper with good stories is my first business."
"Pardon me," retorted Grace scornfully, "I should imagine that loyalty
to one's self and one's college constituted an Overton girl's first
business."
"I can't see that this particular story has anything to do with being
loyal to Overton," sneered Kathleen. "As for being loyal to myself, that
is for me to judge. Who dares say I am disloyal?"
"Nothing very daring about that," drawled Elfreda. "I say so."
"You," stormed Kathleen. "Who are you?"
"J. Elfreda Briggs," murmured the stout girl sweetly.
"Yes," continued Kathleen sneeringly, "I have heard of the jumble you
made of your freshman year. It took a number of influential friends to
pull you into favor again, I believe."
"Not half such a jumble as you are making of yours," smiled Elfreda.
Then she went on gravely: "I am glad you mentioned that freshman year. I
did behave like an imbecile. Thanks to a number of girls who believed I
was worth bothering with, I have learned to know what Overton requires
of me. If you are wise, you'll face about, too. You will find it pays,
and there are all sorts of pleasant compensations for what one expends
in effort. That's all. I've said my say."
A curious, half-admiring expression flitted across Kathleen's thin
little face. Then, turning to Grace, she said defiantly: "Give me my
copy. I don't wish to rewrite it and I am going to send it to-night."
"I'm sorry you won't be fair about this, Miss West," said Grace
regretfully, "but perhaps I can induce you to change your mind."
"I don't understand you," said Kathleen West stiffly.
Grace held a folded paper before the newspaper girl's eyes.
"Here is the letter you wrote the dean regarding our bazaar. The dean
gave it to me. She does not nor never will know who wrote it, unless
you, yourself, tell her. That is something, however, that you and your
conscience must decide. Here also is your page of copy. Under the
circumstances, don't you think you might destroy this page and the
others?"
[Illustration: "Here is the Letter You Wrote the Dean."]
Kathleen took the proffered papers with a set, enigmatic expression on
her pointed features. Slowly she walked to her desk, picked up several
sheets of copy and placing them with the sheet in her hand offered them
to Grace.
Grace shook her head. "I will take your word," she said.
With a shrug of her shoulders the newspaper girl tore the papers across,
then into bits, tossing them into her waste basket. "You win," she said
with slangy effectiveness, then she added--"this time."
"Thank you," responded Grace gravely. "Good night, Miss West."
Kathleen did not respond.
Grace's hand was on the doorknob when the newspaper girl said harshly:
"Wait. Don't think your lofty sentiments about college honor and all
that nonsense impressed me to the point of destroying that copy. Once
and for all I want you to understand that college ideals and traditions
are not worrying me. I did not come to Overton to moon. I am only using
college as a means to the end. What you offered me was a fair exchange.
As you know a great deal too much about certain things, it is just as
well to be on the safe side. I dare say I shall stumble on something
else in the news line just as good as the charity dinner stunt." With a
shrug of her shoulders that conveyed far more than words, she walked
over to the window, turning her back directly upon her callers, nor did
she change her position until an instant later the sound of the closing
door announced to her that her unwelcome visitors had departed.