"THE DUET"
Helen, by this time, having recovered her usual self-possession, was
talking "nineteen to the dozen" to their new friend. Ruth was not in
the least suspicious; but Mary Cox's countenance was altogether too
sharp, her gray eyes were too sly, her manner to the French teacher had
been too unkind, for Ruth to become greatly enamored of the Junior. It
did really seem very kind of her, however, to put herself out in this
way for two "Infants."
"How many teachers are there?" Helen was asking. "And are they all as
little as that Miss Picolet?"
"Oh, _she_!" ejaculated Mary Cox, with scorn. "Nobody pays any
attention to her. She's not liked, I can tell you."
"Why, she seemed nice enough to us--only not very friendly," said
Helen, slowly, for Helen was naturally a kind-hearted girl.
"She's a poverty-stricken little foreigner. She scarcely ever wears a
decent dress. I don't really see why Mrs. Tellingham has her at the
school at all. She has no friends, or relatives, or anybody that knows
her----"
"Oh, yes she has," said Helen, laughing.
"What do you mean?" inquired Mary Cox, suspiciously.
"We saw somebody on the boat coming over to Portageton that knew Miss
Picolet."
"Oh, Helen!" ejaculated Ruth, warningly.
But it was too late, Mary Cox wanted to know what Helen meant, and the
story of the fat man who had played the harp in the boat orchestra, and
who had frightened the French teacher, and had afterward talked so
earnestly with her on the dock, all came out in explanation. The
Junior listened with a quiet but unpleasant smile upon her face.
"That's just what we've always thought about Miss Picolet," she said.
"Her people must be dreadfully common. Friends with a ruffian who
plays a harp on a steamboat for his living! Well!"
"Perhaps he is no relative or friend of hers," suggested Ruth, timidly.
"Indeed, she seemed to be afraid of him."
"He's mixed up in her private affairs, at least," said Mary,
significantly. "I never could bear Miss Picolet!"
Ruth was very sorry that Helen had happened upon this unfortunate
subject. But her chum failed to see the significance of it, and the
girl from the Red Mill had no opportunity of warning Helen. Mary Cox,
too, was most friendly, and it seemed ungrateful to be anything but
frank and pleasant with her. Not many big girls (so thought both Ruth
and Helen) would have put themselves out to walk up to Briarwood Hall
with two Infants and their baggage.
Through breaks in the cedar grove the girls began to catch glimpses of
the brown old buildings of Briarwood Hall. Ivy masked the entire end
of one of the buildings, and even ran up the chimneys. It had been cut
away from the windows, and they showed brilliantly now with the
descending sun shining redly upon them.
"It's a beautiful old place, Helen," sighed Ruth.
"I believe you!" agreed her chum, enthusiastically.
"It was originally a great manor house. That was the first building
where the tower is," said Mary Cox, as they came out at last upon the
more open lawn that gave approach to this side of the collection of
buildings, which had been more recently built than the main house.
They were built around a rectangular piece of turf called the campus.
This, however, the newcomers discovered later, for they came up in the
rear of the particular dormitory building in which Mary declared their
room was situated.
"You can go to the office afterwards," she explained, kindly. "You'll
want to wash and fix up a little after traveling so far. It always
makes one so dirty."
"This is a whole lot better than the way poor Tom was received at his
school; isn't it?" whispered Helen, tucking her arm in Ruth's as they
came to the steps of the building.
Ruth nodded. But there were so many new things to see that Ruth had
few words to spare. There were plenty of girls in sight now. It
seemed to the girl from the Red Mill as though there were hundreds of
them. Short girls, tall girls, thin girls, plump girls--and the very
plumpest girl of her age that Ruth had ever seen, stood right at the
top of the steps. She had a pretty, pink, doll-like face which was
perpetually a-smile. Whereas some of the girls--especially the older
ones--stared rather haughtily at the two Infants, this fat girl
welcomed them with a broadening smile.
"Hello, Heavy," said Mary Cox, laughing. "It must be close to supper
bell, for you're all ready, I see."
"No," said the stout girl. "There's an hour yet. Are these the two?"
she added, nodding at Ruth and Helen.
"I always get what I go after," Ruth heard Mary say, as they whisked in
at the door.
In the hall a quiet, pleasant-faced woman in cap and apron met them.
"This is Helen Cameron and Ruth Fielding, Miss Scrimp," said Mary.
"Miss Scrimp is matron of our dormitory, girls. I am going up, Miss
Scrimp, and I'll show them to their duet."
"Very well, Miss Cox," said the woman, producing two keys, one of which
she handed to each of the chums. "Be ready for the bell, girls. You
can see Mrs. Tellingham after supper."
Ruth stopped to thank her, but Mary swept Helen on with her up the
broad stairway. The room the chums were to occupy (Mr. Cameron had
made this arrangement for them) was up this first flight only, but was
at the other end of the building, overlooking the campus. It seemed a
long walk down the corridor. Some of the doors stood open, and more
girls looked out at them curiously as they pursued their way.
Mary was talking in a low voice to Helen now, and Ruth could not hear
what she said. But when they stopped at the end of the corridor, and
Helen fitted her key into the lock of the door, she said:
"We'd be delighted, Miss Cox. Oh, yes! Ruth and I will both come."
Mary went away whistling and they heard her laughing and talking with
other girls who had come out into the corridor before the chums were
well in their own room. And what a delightful place it seemed to the
two girls, when they entered! Not so small, either. There were two
single beds, two dressing tables, running water in a bowl, two closets
and two chairs--all this at one end of the room. At the other end was
a good-sized table to work at, chairs, a couch, and two sets of shelves
for their books. There were two broad windows with wide seats under
them, too.
"Isn't it just scrumptious?" cried Helen, hugging Ruth in her delight.
"And just think--it's our very own! Oh, Ruthie! won't we just have
good times here?"
Ruth was quite as delighted, if she was not so volubly enthusiastic as
Helen. It was a much nicer room, of course, than the girl from the Red
Mill had ever had before. Her tiny little chamber at the Red Mill was
nothing like this.
The girls removed such marks of travel as they could and freshened
their dress as well as possible. Their trunks would not arrive at the
school until morning, they knew; but they had brought their toilet
articles in their bags. These made some display--on Helen's dresser,
at least. But when their little possessions came they could make the
room look more "homey."
Barely had they arranged their hair when a gentle rap sounded at the
door.
"Perhaps that's Miss Cox again," said Helen. "Isn't she nice, Ruth?"
Her friend had no time to reply before opening the door to the visitor.
It was not Miss Cox, but Ruth immediately recognized the tall girl whom
Mary Cox had addressed as Madge Steele. She came in with a frank smile
and her hand held out.
"I didn't know you were going to come to my corridor," she said,
frankly. "Which of you is Miss Fielding, and which is Miss Cameron?"
It made the chums feel really grown up to be called "Miss," and they
liked this pretty girl at once. Ruth explained their identity as she
shook hands. Helen was quite as warmly greeted.
"You will like Briarwood," said Madge Steele. "I know you will. I
understand you will enter the Junior classes. I have just entered the
Senior grade this year. There are lots of nice girls on this corridor.
I'll be glad to introduce you after supper."
"We have not been to the office yet," said Ruth. "I believe that is
customary?"
"Oh, you must see the Preceptress. She's just as nice as she can be,
is Mrs. Tellingham. You'll see her right after supper?"
"I presume so," Ruth said.
"Then, I tell you what," said Madge. "I'll wait for you and take you
to the Forward Club afterwards. We have an open meeting this evening.
Mrs. Tellingham will be there--she is a member, you know--so are the
other teachers. We try to make all the new girls feel at home."
She nodded to them both brightly and went out. Ruth turned to her chum
with a smile.
"Isn't that nice of her, Helen?" she said. "We are getting on
famously---- Why, Helen! what's the matter?" she cried.
Helen's countenance was clouded indeed. She shook her head obstinately.
"We can't go with her, Ruth," she declared.
"Can't go with her?"
"No."
"Why not, pray?" asked Ruth, much puzzled.
"We can't go to that Forward Club," said Helen, more emphatically.
"Why, my dear!" exclaimed Ruth. "Of course we must. We haven't got to
join it. Maybe they wouldn't ask us to join it, anyway. You see, it's
patronized by the teachers and the Preceptress herself. We'll be sure
to meet the very nicest girls."
"That doesn't follow," said Helen, somewhat stubbornly. "Anyway, we
can't go, Ruth."
"But I don't understand, dear," said the puzzled Ruth.
"Why, don't you see?" exclaimed Helen, with some exasperation. "I told
Miss Cox we'd go with her."
"Go where?"
"To _her_ club. _They_ hold a meeting this evening, too. You know,
she said there was rivalry between the two big school clubs. Hers is
the Upedes."
"Oh! the Up and Doings," laughed Ruth. "I remember."
"She said she would wait for us after we get through with Mrs.
Tellingham and introduce us to _her_ friends."
"Well!" gasped Ruth, with a sigh. "We most certainly cannot go to
both. What shall we do?"