BACK TO THE JOLLY SIX
Ann did not think best to trouble her mother with any of the gossip
with which she had been afflicted through Mrs. Lewis. What was the use?
Through Suzanne, however, Grandmother heard that Ann had been engaged
in a long conversation with the lady, and she spoke of it the next
morning, as she was taking her outing among the flowers. Ann had joined
her and under her direction was picking some of her grandmother’s
favorites.
“Suzanne tells me that our friend Mrs. Lewis was entertaining you, or
demanding entertainment of you, yesterday.”
“Yes, Grandmother. Isn’t she an awful woman?”
“Did you wonder that I quoted what I did in description?”
“No. Her tongue is poisonous all right. But it was such a surprise. She
was so pleasant, indeed, all the way through, you would have thought
that she was telling pleasant things. Do you suppose that she meant to
be----.” Ann paused for a fitting word.
“Malicious?” Grandmother supplied.
“That is the word. Thank you.”
“I do not suppose so. I scarcely know. But her conversation always
consists in comments upon other people. She has no other subject, and
unfortunately she likes best the unhappy phases, something to make
people exclaim. But do not let anything she may have said trouble you,
Ann. Whatever of criticism or innuendo she may have given you,--let
it go. She ought to be a warning to us all,--to let the doings of our
neighbors alone.”
“That is so, Grandmother. We have enough to do, I guess, to look after
ourselves.”
“We surely have. How would you like, Ann, to go to Florida with us?”
“O Grandmother!” Ann stopped plucking a posy and straightened up to
look at Madam LeRoy with shining eyes. “Could I--without hurting
anything?”
Madam LeRoy laughed. “You mean school, I presume?”
“Yes, of course, Grandmother!”
“I think that it could be managed, not to have you fall behind in your
studies.”
“Study a little there, you mean?”
“Just that. Will you be thinking happy thoughts about it, Ann?”
Grandmother was looking at her with eyes that were half sad, half
amused. Such a combination is possible.
“_Won’t_ I?” asked Ann. “I’ll want to think about it so much that I
won’t want to study.”
“I’ll risk you on that,” said Grandmother. “Don’t forget that I have
never had reason to be anything but proud of you. Please keep up the
record, child.”
“I will try, Grandmother,” said Ann with earnestness. “You are so good
to me!”
* * * * *
Ah, it was not the freshman cottage, or hall, any more! When Ann,
Suzanne and Madeline, with several more girls whom they had met on
the train, arrived within the Forest Hill grounds, they saw many
improvements added during the summer. Greetings from youth to youth,
taxis full of jolly old girls and subdued new ones, trucks of trunks
and bags and boxes,--all the usual sights of a girls’ school in
the throes of opening were to be seen. Busy teachers, a small host
of assistants in different lines, janitors and assistant janitors,
truck-men, grocery wagons and express wagons, bringing supplies,
contributed to the general air of enterprise.
There was not a sign of any one among Ann’s particular friends of the
Jolly Six at the administration building, where Ann’s party went first.
The girls had left their names and application for admittance to the
new sophomore cottage, which was to add to the provisions for the
sophomore girls. The school was growing and Ann’s class was one of the
largest freshman classes they had had.
“Wouldn’t it be awful if there is any mistake and we don’t get our
rooms?” asked Madeline, suddenly taking a panic.
“Don’t worry, Maddy,” said Suzanne. “They won’t turn us out. For some
reason or other, I’m not so particular this year, though I would like
to get in the new cottage. The old girls had the first chance if they
wanted it; but some of them wanted to go in the old one anyhow, because
of ‘tradition’ they said.”
“Tradition doesn’t appeal to me,” Madeline announced, “though there
is something in those high and airy halls, and the rooms with high
ceilings. But they are hard to heat in the winter, Mother says. She
wants me to be in the new building.”
“Let me see, young ladies,” said the teacher who was helping assign
girls to their rooms. There was a crowd in the office, girls waiting
their turn, for different purposes. The list was consulted. “Miss Tyson
and Miss Birch go to the new cottage, suite number 29, with Miss Frost
and Miss Simpson, I think.” There seemed to be some difficulty in
making out the names right there. Something had been written in.
“Miss Sterling goes to the Castle, with Miss Ward, Miss Frost and Miss
Robson,--some mistake there, Miss Frost’s name in both places. Well,
I suppose that it does not matter. She came several days ago and has
doubtless found her place.”
“So you won’t even be in the building with us, Ann,” said Suzanne,
quite regretful this time. A year ago she would have been relieved and
delighted.
“I’d just as lief be in the other building but for that, Suzanne,” said
Ann. “But if we go to Florida at Christmas time, it will not make much
difference.”
“Oh, are you going to Florida, Suzanne?” cried Madeline. “Why haven’t I
heard a word about it?”
“I guess I didn’t think of it when I was with you, Maddy. Besides
they were only talking of it. Ann says that Grandmother spoke to her,
though, as if it were all settled.”
“I must ask Mother if I can’t go, too,” said Madeline, “but I know that
they have other plans.”
If Madeline hoped to be invited to go with the LeRoy-Tyson-Sterling
party, she was disappointed. Neither of the girls felt free to give the
invitation, for one thing, and Suzanne had been thinking for some time
that Madeline was very cool and exacting at times.
“It will be fine if your people can go,” said kind Ann. “Have you ever
been there?”
“Oh, yes,” said Madeline, with a toss of her head. “Mother used to go
to Palm Beach every winter.”
* * * * *
As Ann rapidly rounded the administration building to reach the walk
which led to the “Castle,” she almost ran into Marta Ward, who greeted
her with enthusiasm. “Why it’s Ann!” she exclaimed. “When did you get
in?” The girls embraced and Ann explained that she had only just
arrived and had been directed to the Castle.
“Yes,” cried Marta, “are you disappointed that you did not get into the
new cottage? We were next on the list, I think, but the girls who have
been here longer got the first chance and then Madeline and Suzanne
were to be with Genevieve, and--say, Ann, whom do you think we have in
our suite, for they have put four of us together?”
“I could make a good guess, I think, Marta, from somebody’s name that
was down in two places. But I am astonished, just the same.”
“Yes, it’s Frostie herself,” laughed Marta. “Will wonders never cease!”
“Honestly? How did it happen?”
“I don’t know exactly, but Aline says that Eleanor and Genevieve had a
serious quarrel or misunderstanding or something, and besides, Eleanor
can’t endure Madeline. So it seems that when she found out how things
had been arranged, without consulting her, she claims, she went up in
the air and went to Miss Tudor; and finally, Miss Tudor arranged for us
to be together. She thinks a great deal of you and Aline, and I am a
necessary evil, I guess.”
“Not much. Eleanor need not get snippy, or I’ll do some going up in the
air,” Ann laughed.
“Really, Ann, Eleanor is just as nice as she can be about things. If I
had not known that bunch of girls last year, I would not suppose that
Eleanor belonged.”
“What in the world will Suzanne and Madeline think about it?” queried
Ann, a little worried. “They just went over there. I wonder who is in
Eleanor’s place.”
“I haven’t the least idea. You know that the Sig-Eps wanted to have a
cottage of their own and took steps about it, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Well, they did; and they wanted this new cottage. But Miss Tudor
told them that if they wanted a cottage, perhaps they could get some
of their alumnae to help them build one. Otherwise, the school would
continue to be divided according to ‘age and status of scholarship or
rank!’ This new hall is too large for a sorority hall any way. The
girls said that afterwards, and also said that they would want a chapel
or small auditorium for their meetings and entertainments.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea for the ‘Bats,’ would it?”
“No; let’s start working for it. It would be a good way for the school
to get new dorms, and the girls would love their houses.”
“The only objection I can see is that it makes things still more
clannish, and they are too much so already. We’d better talk it over
with Miss Tudor before we do anything.”
“But she really suggested it.”
“That is so; but perhaps it was on an impulse. Even teachers are known
to do that occasionally, and change their minds afterwards.”
“I will go back with you,” said Marta, laughing over Ann’s last remark.
“Both the other girls are there, and the rest of the Jolly Six have
their suite there, too, a few doors away. We’ll have to take in Eleanor
and Aline and make it the Jolly Eight.”
“You don’t imagine that Eleanor would ever be intimate with our crowd,
do you?”
“Stranger things have happened. How can she resist us, tell me that?”
“Of course, I had not thought of how irresistible we are! Have a
chocolate, Marta. Maurice gave Suzanne and me each a box when we
started. Madeline was disappointed that she was not remembered, too,
but Maury did not come to the station. His train, in fact, left before
ours. How did you like Maurice, Marta?”
“He has the making of a fine man,--if he is not spoiled. His gay
temperament is very taking, but I imagine that it is a source of
danger, too.”
“You talk like an old lady, Marta,” laughed Ann, who had been guilty of
similar thoughts, however, in regard to her cousin.
“I thought about him,” said Marta simply. “He watched you so much and I
got to thinking.”
“It is not wise to think too much, fair room-mate; and by the way, I
may run off at Christmas time for quite a stay.”
“How is that?”
“Grandmother plans to have me and Suzanne--Suzanne and me, I mean,--go
to Florida with them. I don’t know how long I shall be gone, but I’ll
do some studying there, Mother thinks.”
“It will be fine for you, though I shall certainly miss you.”
“I hate to go, with you not along, but I couldn’t miss it.”
“I should think not!”
“When did you get in, Marta?”
“Only yesterday evening. I have been unpacking. I gave Aline and
Eleanor the choice of rooms; was that all right?”
“Certainly it was. You mean of the bedrooms, I suppose.”
“Yes. There wasn’t much choice, but I suggested that since both were
there, they select the one they preferred. Both the girls were very
pleasant about it and demurred a little, but selected their room and
went ahead. You will find us pretty well fixed up, Miss Sterling!”
“Good. Let’s stop first and see Katherine and Dots and the others. My
luggage hasn’t been sent up yet, has it?”
“No.”
Warm welcome waited at the Katherine-Dots-Ethel-Lucile headquarters.
“Oh, is it _Ann_!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Come right in and see our
studio,--latest effects in tapestry, water colors and oils.”
Ann saw nothing but new curtains and Lucile’s paints, but expressed her
admiration and returned the embraces of her chums. “Last time I saw you
girls we were in the ‘Western Wilds,’” she said.
“Yes, and what a grand time we had!” Katherine exclaimed. “Say, Ann, I
heard from Beano Bates,--what do you think of that!”
“And I have had a letter from your faithful Edgar. Quick, girls, get me
a fan,” Lucile added, as Ann pretended to be overcome.
“Little did I think,” said Ann, “when I urged you girls to come out to
Montana, what an effect you would have upon our men!”
“Seriously, Ann, Edgar wrote a bright, interesting letter. I’ll let
you read it.” Lucile laughed again at Ann’s lugubrious aspect, which
she threw off at once, however, forgetting the pose in the things that
the rest had to relate. Lucile Early and Ethel Johns had been at their
homes in New York, enjoying their native city and incidentally shopping
for school. Dorothy Horton, in Maine, had visited a girls’ camp for a
week, before her mother returned from her trip. Katherine Neville, in
Ohio, had spent the time, she said, in “domestic pursuits,” cooking for
the family and trying to reproduce some of Rita’s fine concoctions.
“Mother ran off for a little rest,” she said.
“You have a new family, or, rather are a new family in your suite, I
hear,” said Dots. “Are you surprised, Ann?”
“Very much so, but it is all right. Marta and I are used to being by
ourselves, but we can get along and it will be fun to have more in the
family. We used to envy you girls last year, didn’t we, Marta?”
“We can call our suite a studio, too,” Marta added, “a musical one, for
Eleanor sings, Aline plays the violin, and our accomplishments you well
know!”
“Sure enough,” laughed Katherine. “Well, let the musical studio join
ours tonight and have a good old fudge or something reunion. Ask
Eleanor and Aline, won’t you, for us? If they have any doings planned
with the Sig-Eps, all right.”
“Thanks,--we’ll come. You won’t have to make fudge. I’ll bring my
chocolates.” But at this the girls laughed, for the box, passed around
several times, was much depleted, and Ann waved it away, when Katherine
held it out to her. “Put it somewhere till the appointed hour, then.
I’ll not want it. Now to join the family.”
Ann gathered up her wraps and umbrella and took her departure, Marta
leading the way. Before opening the door, however, Marta turned and
gave Ann a whimsical look, as if to say,--“it’s a risk, but here we
are.”
No one was in the little sitting room, which looked cosy with bright
cushions, pennants and pictures already in place; but Eleanor looked
out from the other bedroom, as Ann went into hers. “Is that Ann?” she
asked. Ann placed her things in the inner room and went out to meet
Eleanor, and in a moment, Aline. “Glad to see you,” said Eleanor. “I
imagine that you are surprised to see us in your family. But it is a
fine old suite and I think it lucky for us to get it. It is larger than
most of them, and I like being on the second floor.”
Ann, still holding Eleanor’s hand, for Eleanor had taken hold of her
arm, looked around at the large windows, the comfortable couch, the
window seat with drawers below, to which Eleanor pointed, and expressed
her enthusiasm. “Sit down,” said Eleanor, still the hostess. “I suppose
Marta told you how this happened?”
“As much as I knew about it,” said Marta, stretching out on the couch.
“Yes. I couldn’t say much, could I?”
“Not if you were wise,” laughed Marta.
“Well, I had a good reason for not rooming with Genevieve anyhow, and
the whole arrangement was made before I knew much about it. I was to
blame a little; for it was suggested to me last spring and I didn’t say
nay exactly, too lazy to have the trouble of refusing. Then with my
accustomed habit of putting everything off, I did not even write about
it this summer; only Mother wrote, asking Miss Tudor to do as well
by me as she could, it seems, and did not ask for a new room-mate,
as I wanted her to. _She_ didn’t want to get into trouble either.
Then we both forgot about it. We had a lovely trip to Alaska this
summer,--neither of us had ever been there. So it went. My real trouble
with Genevieve was about another matter, and of course I’d rather not
speak of that.”
“Of course not,” said Ann, “and I’m sure you need not have explained
anyway. As you say, we are lucky to have this suite, and if we can get
through the rushing season without coming to blows over the Sig-Eps
and the Bats, I have no doubt but we can be the best of friends.” So,
laughingly said Ann; and Marta cried, “Hear, hear!”
“One thing that will be of great advantage to me,” smiled Eleanor,
“is having all my accompanists in the suite. You can’t get away from
me, girls. Promise me, both of you, that if one is sick the other
will play,--and poor Aline will have to do it all the time. I adore
violin accompaniments, and it will be good practice for her in public
appearances!”
“If I were only a contralto singer,” said Marta, “you would have a
world-renowned quartet. Too bad that you have two pianists!”
“Suits me,” laughed Eleanor. “I’ll never have to worry.”
“It will be easy to arrange practice hours, too,” said Ann. “Dear me,
no practice to speak of all summer, but oh, such a glorious time!”