KATHERINE AND HER ROOMMATE.
As the two girls were passing through the main building on their
way to number fifteen, west wing, Katherine turned to her
companion and observed, in a friendly tone:
"So this is your first year in Hilton Seminary, Miss Wild?"
Jennie, who had been "just boiling"--as she told her later--over
the professor's recent crankiness and severity, turned to
Katherine in unfeigned surprise, for there was not the slightest
trace of resentment or personal affront in either her voice or
manner.
Her brown eyes were as serene as a May morning; her scarlet lips
were parted in a sunny smile that just disclosed her white, even
teeth, and her voice was clear and sweet, without even a quiver to
betray emotion of any kind.
Jennie Wild was a girl of many moods. Possessing the kindest heart
in the world, and ever ready to run her nimble feet off to do any
one a good turn, she was at the same time a veritable little
"snapdragon." Touch her ever so lightly, and off she would go into
paroxysms of mirth or rage, sympathy or scorn, as the case might
be. Consequently she had looked for an outburst, or at least some
manifestation, of indignation on Katherine's part, over the
principal's recent sharpness and ungracious treatment.
"Yes, I'm a freshie," the girl replied, with a nod and one of her
comical grimaces, but still curiously studying the placid face
beside her, "but I'm not here as you are. I'm a working student"--
this with a rising flush and defiant toss of her pert little head.
"'A working student?'" repeated Katherine, inquiringly.
"That's what I said," laconically. "I can't afford to pay full
tuition, so I wait on Prof. Seabrook and his wife, and do other
kinds of work to make up the rest. You see"--the flush creeping
higher, but with a secret determination to "sound" the new junior-
-"I haven't any father or mother, and my aunt, who has always
taken care of me, is poor, and there was no other way to finish my
education after leaving the high school--see?"
"Yes, I understand, and I think you are a dear, brave girl to do
it," said Katherine, with shining eyes, and laying a friendly hand
on her shoulder as they began to mount the stairs leading to the
second story.
"Do you--truly?" queried Jennie, with a glad ring in her tones.
"My! I believe I feel two inches taller for that"--throwing back
her head proudly; "you've given me a lift, Miss Minturn, that I
shan't forget; nobody has ever said anything so kind to me before.
I tell you"--confidentially--"it does take a lot of courage
sometimes to buckle on to a hard lesson, after running up and
downstairs forty times a day, besides no end of other things to
do. Most of the girls are pretty good to me; though, now and then,
there's one who thinks she was cut out of finer cloth. I dote on
the professor, even if he does get a bit cranky sometimes, like
to-day, when something ruffles his stately feathers. His wife is
lovely, too, and the teachers are all nice. But don't call me Miss
Wild, please. I'm 'Jennie' to everybody. 'Wild Jennie' most of the
girls call me, and there really is a harum-scarum streak in me
that does get the best of me sometimes," she concluded, with a
mischievous flash in her dark eyes.
"I shall be very glad to call you Jennie, if you wish, and my name
is Katherine, with a 'K,'" said that young lady, with an inviting
smile.
"I'm sure there isn't any 'harum-scarum' about you," said the
girl, gravely, as she searched the sweet, brown eyes.
"That depends upon what you mean by the term," responded
Katherine, with a ripple of mirthful laughter. "I assure you I
love a good time as well as any other girl."
"U-m--p'rhaps; but I guess it would have to be a--a--genteel good
time. There's one thing I don't need to 'guess' about, though--you
just know how to stand firm on your heels when you need to."
"What do you mean by that?" questioned Katherine, with a look of
perplexity.
"Nobody will ever make you take a back seat--not even his highness
downstairs, when you know you're right. I say, though"--she
interposed, eagerly--"weren't you mad, through and through, at
what he said to you just now?"
"Mad?" repeated Katherine, flushing, and wondering if she had
unconsciously manifested anything that had seemed like anger or
temper during the recent interview.
"Yes; didn't you feel as if you'd just like to go at him with
'hammer and tongs'"--doubling up her fists and striking out
suggestively right and left--"for being so crusty with you about
your religion? I did."
Katherine laughed out merrily at the girl's strenuous espousal of
her cause, and with a sense of relief to know that she had shown
no feeling unworthy of a Christian Scientist.
"No, dear," she gently replied, "I could not feel anger or
resentment towards any one because of a mere difference of
opinion."
"U-m! well, you didn't show any, that's sure. You just faced him,
sweet as a peach, but like a--a queen who knows she's on her own
ground. I thought, though, you might be just boiling over inside;
but if you say you weren't, I believe you, for I think you're
'true blue,' and I think Prof. Seabrook might have learned a
lesson from you, for I never saw him quite so upset over a little
thing before. I never had any use for Christian Scientists myself;
don't know anything about 'em, in fact. But if they're all like
you, I don't believe they'll ever do much harm in the world. Here
we are, though--this is Sadie's room. She's an orphan, too, but
she is very rich, and I tell you she just knows how to make her
money fly--isn't a bit stingy with others, either," the voluble
girl concluded, as she paused before a door at the head of the
stairs in the second story of the west wing and rapped vigorously
upon it for admittance.
"Come in," responded a good-natured voice, whereupon Jennie opened
the door and entered a sunny, inviting apartment, the sight of
which instantly gave Katherine a homelike feeling.
She also saw two pretty beds, on one side of the room, piled high
with a motley assortment of dresses and finery that made her
wonder how one person could ever make use of so many things, while
an attractive girl was sitting upon the floor before the one
dressing case, her face flushed and perplexed as she tried to pack
another promiscuous collection into the insufficient space that
would henceforth belong to her.
"Miss Minot," said Jennie, advancing farther into the room and
thus revealing her companion, "this is Miss Minturn, who is to
room with you. Prof. Seabrook sent me to show her here and to
introduce her to you."
Miss Minot sprang to her feet and came forward with outstretched
hand, her manner characterized by true Southern hospitality.
"Come in, Miss Minturn," she said, cordially; "come right in and
sit down," and releasing the hand she had grasped, she whisked two
or three skirts off a rocker, tossing them upon the heap on one of
the beds. "I knew you were coming, and I've been working right
smart to get ready for you. I've had full swing here so long I've
filled every nook and cranny of the place, and now"--with a shrug
and a deprecatory smile--"I shall have to learn to be very orderly
to keep from encroaching upon your territory. But there's lots of
time. The things can wait while we get acquainted a little.
Jennie, you'll have to take the trunk," she concluded, with a
careless glance at the girl.
"I haven't time to sit down, Miss Minot; I've my algebra lesson to
learn for to-morrow morning," and Jennie, flushing with sudden
anger at being so cursorily consigned to a trunk, turned to leave
the room.
Katherine put out a detaining hand.
"Thank you, Jennie, for coming up with me," she said, with a
friendly smile, adding: "And I hope there will be no more
interruptions while you are conning the algebra lesson."
"I hate mathematics," Jennie affirmed, with an impatient shrug,
"but the things you most dislike are supposed to do you the most
good, so I just have to bottle up when it's time for algebra and
try to play 'it's an angel being entertained unawares.' Good-by,
Miss Minturn. I'll see you again later." And bestowing a bright
glance and nod upon her new friend, she shut the door and went
whistling cheerily down the hall.
"That's a queer 'pickaninny'! I didn't mean to hurt her, though,"
observed Miss Minot, as she curled herself up on the foot of a
bed, preparatory to getting acquainted with her new roommate.
"She certainly possesses originality," Katherine laughingly
responded; "but I like her none the less for that."
"Poor young one!" Sadie continued. "She doesn't have a very easy
time of it here. She is a stray waif, and hasn't a relative in the
world, to her knowledge."
"She spoke of an aunt," interposed Katherine.
"She calls Miss Wild 'aunt,' but she isn't, really, and the child
actually does not know her own name. The way of it was this," Miss
Minot went on to explain: "When she was a baby there was a
terrible railway accident, in which it was supposed both her
parents were killed, for nobody could be found to claim the child
after it was over; and Miss Wild, an old maid with a small
annuity, was on the same train, and, like an angel, cared for her,
hoping some relative would be found when the dead were identified;
but no clew to her identity was ever obtained, and the woman has
done the best she could for her all these years."
"How very lovely and noble of Miss Wild," breathed Katherine,
appreciatively. Then, glancing around the disorderly room, she
added: "Now, Miss Minot, I feel almost like an intruder to have
you so upset on my account. Do let me help you put some of these
things away."
"Oh, never mind the truck," Sadie lazily returned. "I'll take care
of the things presently. I'm right glad that you are a junior,"
she resumed, in a comfortable tone. "It is so much nicer to have a
roommate who can go right along with you, and I'm sure you'll be a
great help to me."
Katherine smiled as her companion thus unwittingly revealed a
strong phase of her character. She saw that her tendency was to
lean upon the nearest prop; and, as to be "forewarned is to be
forearmed," she resolved to govern herself accordingly.
They chatted socially until the janitor appeared with Katherine's
trunk, whereupon Sadie bestirred herself once more to bring order
out of chaos.
This was much easier said than done, and as she saw that she was
going to be very much crowded, Katherine unpacked but very few
things at that time. She generously said she would try to get
along with one-third of the closet and one of the drawers in the
bureau, and utilize her trunk trays for her own waists and finery,
while she could stow things not often needed in the lower portion.
Later she hired the janitor to put up a bracket shelf in one
corner of the room, tacking a long chintz curtain to it, and, with
a dozen hooks screwed into a cleat underneath, thus improvised a
very convenient little closet for her individual use.
While the roommates were "becoming acquainted," Jennie Wild, full
of what she had seen and heard, and, for the time being, unmindful
of the waiting algebra lesson, rushed down to the recreation room,
where many of the students were still congregated, and reeled off
her news to a bevy of curious and interested listeners.
The information that the new junior was a "Christian Scientist"
created quite a flutter of excitement. Some were horrified and
indignant because such a pariah had been admitted to the seminary;
others ridiculed and laughed to scorn the doctrines of the "new
cult," while a few appeared indifferent and declared that every
one had a right to her own opinion upon religious subjects.
The matter was pretty thoroughly canvassed, however, the attitude
of the principal having weighty influence and governing the
preponderance of opinion; and by the time the supper bell rang
almost every student in the house had learned the whole story and
decided that, for the present at least, she would give the
newcomer a wide berth.
Katherine became conscious of the iciness of the atmosphere the
moment she entered the dining room and came under the battery of
the hundred or more pairs of curious and critical eyes that were
eagerly watching for her to appear. Miss Reynolds, who had
overheard some of the gossip and adverse criticisms, was also on
the lookout for her, and approaching her with the graciousness
which was her chief charm, observed:
"Miss Minturn, I have made a place for you at my table. Until you
become better acquainted and choose your permanent seat, you shall
sit close under the shelter of my wings."
"And a very friendly shelter, I am sure, I shall find it; you are
very good," Katherine replied, with quick appreciation.
The teacher led her to her place, and, while they stood waiting
for the professor to give the signal to be seated, introduced her
to two or three of the girls in their vicinity.
Katherine keenly felt, and Miss Reynolds noted with increasing
displeasure, the quickly averted eyes and cool acknowledgment of
these introductions; but the principal drew out his chair, and
Katherine's momentary feeling of awkwardness was covered by the
confusion of getting into place. But for her teacher she would
have had a very lonely and silent meal; for after one or two
efforts to engage her nearest neighbor in conversation had been
coldly repulsed, the tactful woman threw herself into the gap and
the two chatted socially until they arose from the table.
"She is a dear, sweet girl, and I am going to nip this nonsense in
the bud," Miss Reynolds observed to herself on the way upstairs,
where, in the main hall and parlors, the students usually spent an
hour, socially, after the evening meal. But as she presented her
charge, here and there, she only became more indignant in view of
frigid salutations and a general stampede wherever they made their
appearance, not to mention the scarlet spots that settled on
Katherine's cheeks and her unnaturally brilliant eyes, although,
in other respects, she appeared perfectly serene and self-
possessed.
"Please do not trouble yourself any further on my account, Miss
Reynolds," she said, when she observed the look of dismay on her
face as she glanced around the almost empty room they were in. "I
understand the situation perfectly; they have all learned that I
am a Christian Scientist, and, having conceived an erroneous idea
of what that means, are avoiding me."
"It is the most absurd, cruel and unjust treatment of a stranger I
ever heard of," returned her companion, with flashing eyes, "and I
shall make it my business to see that there is a radical change
before another day goes by."
"Please do not," Katherine pleaded, earnestly. "I would much
prefer that matters be left to adjust themselves; any interference
would only serve to intensify the antagonism against me; and I am
sure when the girls come to know me better, they will at least
realize that I am--harmless," and there was a gleam of genuine
amusement in her eyes as she concluded.
"You are a brave little girl," said her teacher, with a glow of
tenderness at her heart and a suspicious moisture in her eyes.
"But"--with a resolute straightening of her graceful figure--"I am
not going to have you left to yourself on this your first evening
at Hilton, so come with me to my room and we will have a nice time
by ourselves."
"Oh, I should like that," said Katherine, eagerly, "if it will not
encroach--"
"It will not," smilingly interposed her new friend, and, slipping
an arm around her, she spirited her away to her pleasant room,
where they spent a delightful hour together.
When the eight o'clock study bell rang, Katherine returned to her
own quarters, where she found her roommate already absorbed,
apparently, in the preparation of to-morrow's lessons; for, as she
entered, the girl merely glanced up from her book without
speaking, then fastened her eyes again upon the pages before her.
Katherine sat down by her own table and soon forgot everything but
the work on hand, although, at first, she had experienced a sense
of discord and friction in the atmosphere. The hour passed in
absolute silence until the next bell rang, when Miss Minot closed
her books and abruptly left the room.
Katherine was not sorry to be left alone, and bringing forth from
her trunk her Bible, "Science and Health," and "Quarterly," began
to study her lesson for the coming Sunday. She spent half an hour
or more in this way, then sat reading from her text-book until
Sadie returned.
Katherine greeted her with a smile as she entered and inquired:
"What is the retiring hour, Miss Minot?"
"Ten; and every light must be out at half-past," was the somewhat
curt response.
Then, after an irresolute pause, she walked over to Katharine, and
picking up the book she had just laid down, asked:
"What is this that you were reading? Oh! it is that dreadful book
I've heard so much about."
"It doesn't seem dreadful to me," returned her companion, gently.
"Humph! 'At all times and under all circumstances overcome evil
with good,'" [Footnote: "Science and Health," page 571.] she read
from the page to which she had opened. "That's just another
version of the 'golden rule,' isn't it?" Then, turning a leaf, she
read from the next page: "'Love fulfills the law in Christian
Science.' Humph!" she ejaculated again, as she put the volume
down, "so you are a Christian Scientist! I heard about it
downstairs."
"Yes," quietly returned Katherine.
"And do you really believe all they tell about the wonderful cures
and--and the rest of it?" Sadie demanded, with curling lips.
"Yes."
"Tell me about some of them," said the girl, eagerly, her
curiosity aroused.
"Excuse me, Miss Minot; I cannot, for Prof. Seabrook has forbidden
me to say anything about the subject here," Katherine returned.
"Yes, I heard that, too," said Sadie, with a nod. "Well, the
professor is dead set against it, and I'm down on it right smart
myself. You see"--with a superior air--"I'm an Episcopalian; my
grandfather was an Episcopalian clergyman, a rector, you know,
and"--with a shrug and laugh--"I'm afraid he wouldn't rest easy in
his grave if he knew I had such a rank heretic for a roommate.
But"--leaning forward and smiling into her companion's eyes--
"aside from that I like you right well, Miss Minturn, and if we
leave this subject alone I reckon we'll get along pretty
comfortably together; what do you say?"
"I am sure we will," cordially assented Katherine, "and"--with a
merry twinkle in her eyes--"if you do not broach it, you may
confidently rely upon my discretion."
"I own up," good-naturedly returned her chum. "I did broach it
this time; but"--flushing slightly--"something had to be said to
get it out of the way, don't you know? And may I--would you like
me to call you Katherine?"
"With all my heart, Sadie."
The two girls smiled into each other's eyes; the last vestige of
formality was swept away, and the atmosphere was clear.