SETTLED AT LAST
“It was really too easy,” said Ann afterwards, “the way things were
fixed up. Nothing like having somebody who can decide for you. Catch me
trying to fuss myself with school arrangements! I’m certainly glad that
I did not take up Suzanne’s suggestion and go ahead to change things.”
The next morning there was a mad scramble to get ready in time, to get
lessons, which, it was warned, would be expected; to have breakfast, do
a thousand things, more or less, and reach classes on time. Not much
thought could be given to affairs in the rooms and suites. Eleanor and
Aline rushed over to the conservatory building; Marta had both matters
musical and matters literary to engage her attention; and Ann, last
but not least, reading Latin and French at an early hour, went over to
breakfast without a belt which covered some shirring on her dress, and
would have gone to class unmindful of her beltless condition, had not
Marta noticed that the dress looked “different” and discovered what was
lacking. “This is the life,” laughed Ann, hastily fastening her belt,
as she flew out of the room to make the early class.
“I like it,” said Marta, coming abreast of Ann and wishing that she
could slide down the bannisters. “Are we going to be late?”
“Hope not,” said Ann, who had spent too long a time in looking over
another lesson.
So the day went, with the usual fun and the usual worries, hoping that
one would be called on for the part best learned, or easiest to do
impromptu; but the teachers were merciful to the recent comers and the
mountains and impassable streams of learning became level plains to
young feet.
At dinner there were the customary special announcements. Then a list
of names was read, while every one listened intently for her own name.
“The following persons,” read Miss Montgomery for Miss Tudor, “will
see the dean about special matters relating to changes in rooming or
studies. This must receive immediate attention. The young ladies will
go to the library and will be sent for in the order desired.”
The names were then read, in alphabetical order; and they included, Ann
noted, the names of all in her own suite and those in the new cottage
suite occupied by her cousin and her friends.
A bevy of girls, some wondering for what reason they had been called,
all talking, laughing, or exchanging confidences in low tones, reached
the library after dinner. At the table Ann had caught a look from
Eleanor, who whispered to her, as they were on their way, “Do you know
what is to be done?”
“I do not,” said Ann, “though from something Marta said, I fancy
that she and I are not to be separated. Marta does not know all the
proceedings.”
Eleanor nodded, and just then Aline joined her. In the library,
Genevieve and Madeline were careful to keep at some distance from
Eleanor but Suzanne did not join them. She came in later, with two
other girls of her “set.”
One or two new girls were sent for first. Then Eleanor and Ann were
asked to come together. Miss Tudor looked worn with the efforts of the
first days, but was as energetic as ever, holding in her hand a paper,
evidently a list of what was to be done.
“I wanted you to come together, girls, for one reason, that the
pleasant relations between you might not be disturbed. Eleanor, Ann did
not ask for the arrangement that I am going to make. She only said that
she did not think it fair, if any change were made, for Marta to suffer
in the case.”
Miss Tudor paused a moment, and Eleanor said, “Yes, Miss Tudor. Ann
said the same thing to me when we talked about it.”
“Very well. I am making very few explanations about this and shall ask
you both to keep your own council. The girls in the other suite are
going to be offended. Genevieve, at least, deserves it, and I am not so
sure, Eleanor that I am doing right in making it so easy for you, when
you upset the whole thing.”
“Yes’m,” meekly said Eleanor.
“But it seems best to break up that arrangement. I am going to put
Suzanne, with Lora Collier, in the suite with you, in the place of
Marta and Ann. Both of them told me that they were willing to change,
if it seemed best to me; and Miss Sterling, (Miss Tudor regained her
formality), I think that you will not be displeased with the suite in
which I am placing you and Miss Ward. This is the slip, with number and
names.”
Miss Tudor handed each girl a slip and rose, dismissing them by that
simple act. But Eleanor hesitated. “Excuse me, Miss Tudor, but I
understood that Lora was not coming back.”
Miss Tudor smiled. “So did I, until last night, when we received a
wire, asking that I place her with some of her friends. Do you think
that you two singers can get along without jealousy?”
“I should think we can!” exclaimed Eleanor, “and Miss Tudor, I want
to apologize for the way in which I spoke to you the first time I was
here. You have certainly poured coals of fire on my unworthy head.”
Again Miss Tudor smiled. “I accept the apology, Eleanor. See that you
are a good girl!”
“The best I can be!” exclaimed Eleanor, as the two girls walked out of
the door.
“Ann, the very idea! I’m awfully sorry that you girls are not to be
with us, but since the change is to be,--Lora! Hurrah!”
“I say so too, Eleanor,” said Ann, taking Eleanor’s arm. “Lora will be
a good room-mate for Suzanne, and you will all be Sig-Eps but Aline. I
may as well warn you now that we’ll get her into the Bats, if she will
come.”
“I want you to. I’ve exhausted all my arguments on Aline. Her mother
died not so very long ago, and she was a Bat, so it is hopeless. Let’s
see your slip, Ann; who is with you?”
“There aren’t any other names. Isn’t it funny?”
“She is giving you a suite by yourselves till she has to put somebody
in it. There aren’t enough sophomores to fill the two halls; So I
shouldn’t be surprised but you’d have it all to yourselves.”
“Unless there are too many freshmen and they have to put a few over
here.”
“That is not likely. They enlarged the freshman hall two years ago.
See,--here is my slip, all four names on it. What is your number?
Second floor, isn’t it? I hope that it isn’t too far away. I’m coming
around once in a while if you have no objections.”
“Objections! What an idea. I have a lot of studying to do, for I have
to make good for my Dad. But I’m the most ‘gregarious’ being you ever
saw. So he says!”
“All right. Now let me tell you something, Ann. It’s another
confession, like the apology I just gave Miss Tudor. But one some way
just can’t imagine your taking a superior air and saying, ‘that’s just
what I thought of Eleanor Frost’.”
Ann was laughing at this, and wondered what was coming. “When I first
asked you to play for me, it was partly because I knew you could do it
and partly because I was mad at Suzanne for refusing. Then the girls
wanted me to be president of the sophs this year and I said I would,
so I started out to be a politician. I thought that you had a lot of
influence in your crowd,----”
Here Ann gasped, stopped in the middle of the walk and looked at
Eleanor, who laughed and continued.
“And if I got you to liking me you wouldn’t fight me perhaps. The funny
thing was that I got to liking you, on your own account, and I adore
your grandmother, to say nothing of your mother. And while I still will
not refuse the presidency, please punish me by putting up somebody else
and voting for her.”
“Of _all_ things!” exclaimed Ann. “What on earth makes you tell me
this?”
“I don’t know myself; only I thought that I’d feel better. I’d like to
be a _real_ friend of yours, and I am ashamed of the way it began.”
Ann held out her hand. “Shake hands on it, Eleanor. I’m glad to have
as strong a girl as you are for my friend. I’ll have to confess
that I was too much influenced by that ‘forest fire’ conflagration,
and haven’t known until lately how fine you are. I don’t wonder that
Suzanne felt ‘killed’ over your withdrawing from her suite.”
The girls clasped hands, Eleanor saying that it was too bad not to
be able to exchange sorority “grips”. They walked along after that,
talking of everything else but the recent revelation and the affair
of the suite. “I’ll remember the number, Ann,” said Eleanor, as she
reached their present location and went in, while Ann went on to find
her new quarters.
“You can help us move,” saucily said Ann, while Eleanor, like Suzanne,
accustomed to a maid at home, lifted her brows and remarked, “Mayhap I
will.”
* * * * *
The suite, for whose number Ann was looking, was at the end of another
corridor, which ran at right angles to that on which The Jolly Six
had their quarters. The outside door was unlocked, the key in it, and
there were evidences of fresh dusting and cleaning. Ann ran first to
the window to see what the view might be and found that she looked
out toward the hillside, the little stream and the rustic bridge. “O
lovely, lovely!” she cried, and started back, intending to bring over
an armful of clothes at once. At the door she almost ran into Marta who
was on a similar errand, and remarked that at every turn she ran into
her room-mate.
“Look here, Marta, isn’t this prodigious?--and splendiferous?” Ann drew
Marta to the window to see the same picturesque hillside. “See that
baby cottontail,--right down under the window,--in those bushes!--now
he’s gone!”
Marta drew out her slip and pointed to the two names. “Are we really
going to be by ourselves for a bit?”
The girls exchanged glances and smiles. “It will be easier to study,
but it would have been fun to be in a suite with other girls.”
“That may happen yet;” said Marta. “Come on, let’s get moved as quickly
as possible. I’m going for an armful of books.”
“Noble girl! I was thinking of clothes.”
“What’s the difference? Both of ’em have to come.”
At Eleanor’s suite there was an excited and happy group of girls. “I
hired one of the chambermaids to pack my trunk and things,” Suzanne was
saying. “Madeline won’t speak to me and I hate to go over there. Ann,
won’t you go over and see that the things in the bureau drawers get in?”
“Why should I run into trouble, if you do not want to go yourself, my
dear?” asked Ann, delving into her closet and coming out with dresses
and coats.
“Isn’t she mean?” complained Suzanne, half in earnest.
“Gracious me, Suzanne,” said Eleanor. “Brace up and go over after your
jewelry and little things. If the girls won’t speak to you, go ahead
anyway. The sooner it’s over the better. _Look_ at Ann!”
Ann’s load was arranged for her departure on the first trip. One hat,
back to the front, was on her head. In each hand she carried several
shoes, precariously held together, and draped over shoulders and arms
were as many frocks and coats as she could manage.
“You’ll muss ’em, Ann,” Suzanne suggested.
“I would be grateful for assistance,” was Ann’s suggestion in return.
“No, not these,” she said, refusing to unload, as Eleanor and Aline ran
to her assistance. “There are others in the closet, friends!”
Laughingly the girls, even Suzanne, selected a load from those garments
of Marta and Ann which remained in the closet, and the parade down
two corridors began. Other girls, from suites on the way, heard the
laughter and came to look and join in the merriment, or to pick up a
shoe or two, dropped along the way.
“Oh, isn’t this a ducky suite?” said Suzanne. “See what a pretty rug
there is in the study. I’m glad, Ann, for I feel guilty, turning you
and Marta out in this fashion!”
“Yes,” said Aline, who had brought the hangers and was trying to help
Marta hang up the frocks. “This looks like the ‘ejections’ you read
about, where people are turned out with all their household furniture
and clothing. We haven’t gotten to the furniture yet!”
Once started, the girls were having such a good time over it that they
helped with more clothes and the books, until in a short time nearly
everything was carried over, leaving the little things of the “top
drawers” to be packed more leisurely in the suit-cases.
Ann, who repented of her careless reply to Suzanne, for she saw that
her cousin was really distressed over her own moving, offered to go
over with her, to help pack and oversee the maid, who would need
telling about what clothes to select. She was rewarded by Suzanne’s
gratitude. “O Ann, _will_ you?” she cried. “I shan’t mind so much if
you are with me! Anyhow, I think that Maddy thinks I’m going to room
with you.”
“It is just as well,” said Ann. “Did you set any time for the maid to
come over?”
“Yes.” Suzanne looked at her watch. “She could come in about half an
hour. Maybe Genevieve and Maddy are not in the suite yet. _Will_ you
come?”
They were in Ann’s suite now and Ann looked at the books to be
arranged, thinking, too, of the lessons to be learned. “It’s a mess to
leave you with, Marta,” she said.
“Go right along,” replied Marta. “I don’t blame Suzanne for not wanting
to go over alone.”
Fortunately for Suzanne, neither Genevieve nor Madeline were as yet
at home. “They are probably telling the whole school about it,” said
Suzanne resentfully.
“I can’t blame Madeline much, can you?” remarked Ann.
“N-no, maybe not,” Suzanne acknowledged. “Nobody knows a thing about
Lora’s coming, I guess.”
Rapidly the girls packed and placed everything out in plain sight which
was to go in the trunk. The maid arrived and was given directions while
the girls started away, with the smaller articles in Suzanne’s bag and
a suit-case which Ann carried. The trunk might not be sent over until
morning. But after Suzanne and Ann were half way across the intervening
distance, Ann bethought herself of a box which she had forgotten. “I’m
not sure where I left it, Suzanne, so I’d better go right back and get
it. It is the one with some of your treasures,--you remember--that you
packed and gave to me to put in the suit-case. I said I would, and laid
it down while I got something else.”
“Oh, yes! If you will get it, Ann,--it’s a shame, though.”
Ann ran back and by the “irony of fate,” as she told Marta afterwards,
had to meet Madeline at the door. “Excuse me, Madeline,” she said. “I
have been helping Suzanne pack up and forgot to get one box.”
Madeline stepped back, with exaggerated politeness. Ann, who procured
the box as rapidly as possible, thought at first that Madeline was
refusing to speak to her; but as she left the door, Madeline looked
after her and said, “I hope that you are satisfied at last, to get
Suzanne away from me!”
Ann stopped, surprised, yet knowing how Madeline must feel about it. It
made all the difference possible in the tone of her reply. “Suzanne is
not going to room with me, Madeline.”
Proceeding on her way down the stairs and out upon the campus, Ann
reproached herself, however for the statement. After all, she _had_
been glad to “get Suzanne away” from Madeline, though not for the
reason that Madeline supposed. Then she thought of Suzanne’s remark to
Marta about feeling guilty for turning Marta out. Was that sincere, or
for making an impression on Eleanor? Such had been her thought. “Look
here, young lady,” she said to herself, “it’s lots easier to judge
other people than to be perfectly sincere yourself!”