A MOMENTOUS ERRAND
“How do I look, Jeremiah? Very grave and serious, I hope.” Marjorie
walked sedately to the center of the spacious sitting room which was a
part of hers and Jerry’s luxurious quarters at Hamilton Arms. She
paused, casting an interrogative glance at Jerry, who was sitting on the
edge of a chair interestingly following Marjorie’s every movement.
“You don’t look half as solemn as you think you feel,” was Jerry’s
opinion delivered with a faint chuckle.
“How discouraging.” Marjorie stopped before the long plate glass wall
mirror for a last critical inspection. She thought she made a really
unobtrusive appearance in her plain dark blue faille gown and small blue
faille hat.
“You might better wear your new jade afternoon frock with the black fur
bands,” Jerry grumbled critically. “The world is yours in that rig.”
“You’re a fond goose, Jeremiah. It has to be a case of ‘I won’t speak of
myself’ today. I wish to eliminate Marjorie Dean from the situation as
thoroughly as I can. I wish Prexy’s interest to be all for Leslie. The
color of my new dress might interfere with his thought processes. This
is strictly a matter of psychology, you know,” she declared gaily.
“All right, Bean. You win. You look almost as beautiful as ever, if not
more so. True beauty cannot be hidden.” Jerry rose in a declamatory
attitude, one arm raised stiffly. “It peereth forth from even the
humblest of blue faille—”
“Stop it this instant.” Marjorie forgot sedateness and rushed upon
Jerry, open-armed. Jerry threw up both arms and accidentally knocked
Marjorie’s hat off. “Now see what you’ve done.” Laughing, Marjorie
straightened a dent in her little blue hat and went over to the mirror
to readjust it. “You’ve completely chased away my seriousness, Jeremiah
Macy.”
“A good thing. Don’t worry about the way you ought to approach Prexy.
Whatever you say to him will be the best thing that could possibly be
said for Leslie.” This time it was Jerry who turned momentarily serious.
“I hope so.” Marjorie gave a quick, longing sigh. “Now I must be on my
way. Lucy said Prexy would surely be at the house after four today. It’s
a quarter to four now. I’ll meet you at Wayland Hall at five o’clock.
Coming down stairs with me?”
“No. I’ve a letter to write. I must start it this minute. It’s to Hal.
Any messages,” she called slyly. Marjorie was at the door.
“Not any.” Marjorie laughed and blushed charmingly. “Good-bye, Jeremiah.
See you later.” She tripped down the broad staircase and into the
library where Miss Susanna Hamilton sat at the long mahogany table
busily occupied with sorting the loose yellow leaves of an old book.
“So you are off on the momentous errand, are you, child?” she greeted,
her eyes still on her dilettante task. She laid down the leaf in her
hand and turned her keen dark eyes smilingly upon Marjorie. “What a
plain little dress! But I like it. It’s suitable to the errand on which
you are going. Marvelous Manager with no frills or furbelows.”
“If I succeed with Prexy this afternoon I shall feel that I can lay
claim to that ridiculous title for just once.” Marjorie came over to
Miss Hamilton. She bent and kissed the old lady’s pink cheek. “Please
don’t be lonely without us at dinner tonight, Goldendede,” she said.
“Remember we’ll all be here tomorrow night for a regular Travelers’
reunion.”
“Run along, my dear. I’ll be glad to be rid of both you and Jerry this
evening,” chuckled Miss Susanna. “Think what an opportunity I shall have
to collate this book, uninterrupted.”
“Good-bye.” Marjorie started for the door in pretended offense. Half way
across the library she paused, looking back and laughing.
“Wait a minute, Marjorie. Try not to feel downcast if President Matthews
should be brusque with you in regard to Leslie,” was the older woman’s
advice. “He is broader-minded than most presidents of colleges that I
have known. And I have known a good many of them. They are all alike in
their deep disapproval of particularly lawless students. Leslie’s case
seems very doubtful to me. I don’t mean to be discouraging. I know how
strongly prejudiced such men are against flagrant student offenders.”
“I understand.” Marjorie gave a little comprehending nod. She came back
and kissed Miss Susanna again, saying: “Wish me good fortune,
Goldendede. I’m going on a quick hike to a trying engagement.”
“Good luck attend you, Lieutenant Dean.” Miss Susanna watched the trim
little figure across the room and through the open door.
Marjorie left the Arms and sped lightly down the wide stone walk to the
gates. She was soon swinging along with her free buoyant stride through
picturesque Hamilton Estates and toward the campus. For a little the
tender beauty of the early September day caused her to forget her errand
in fervent Nature worship. Overhead the sun’s golden gleams filtered
down from skies of palest blue between snatches of drifting, snowy
clouds. The sweeping lawns and gardens of the Estates were bright with
scarlet sage, dahlias and early autumn flowers. Along the sides of the
pike and in the fields grew goldenrod, daisies and purple asters in
Nature’s own profusion. Here and there the foliage of a tree had been
touched by magic fingers and turned from green to red and gold.
Marjorie greeted the emerald-hued campus with a fond smile and a soft:
“You’re as splendid as ever, old friend.” She entered the east gates and
followed the drive for a little way, then left it to travel straight
across the broad green sweep toward President Matthews’ house which was
situated at the extreme west side of the campus.
It was now almost a week since the initial band of Travelers had
gathered at the Hall and Marjorie had then announced her determination
to go to President Matthews in behalf of Leslie Cairns. She had been
obliged to delay her call upon the President for the very good reason
that he had not returned to Hamilton campus from the sea shore until
Tuesday of that week. It was now Thursday. The next day, Friday, would
see the return of Katherine Langly and Lillian Wenderblatt to the
campus. There was to be a jolly celebration at the Arms on Friday
evening in honor of them. In view of happiness so near at hand Marjorie
was desirous of immediately putting Leslie’s case before the President
and having the self-appointed interview with “Prexy” off her mind.
As she crossed the broad green, endeared by long familiarity to her
feet, her gaze wandered from one to another of the campus houses. Her
eyes brightened to see three girls seated on the steps of Craig Hall. At
Acasia House a slim girl shape stood on the top step of the front
veranda, waving an arm at an expressman coming up the walk with a
heavy-looking trunk. In front of Silverton Hall three girls were
emerging from a taxicab. Marjorie stopped to stare at them. No; they
were not Phyllis Moore, Barbara Severn and Robin Page. She was not sure
of their identity. She experienced a glad sense of happiness at the
thought that the campus dwellers were gathering home again. The end of
another week and Hamilton Campus would have again become its old
delightful center of activity.
As she turned in at the gateway of the ornamental hedge which surrounded
the president’s home, Marjorie’s buoyant interest in the campus receded
and was replaced by the graver import of her errand. She hoped she would
find the president alone. Perhaps Lucy would be there. Lucy had been
working for him for the past two days.
“I shan’t mind if Lucy is there,” Marjorie was thinking as she neared
the steps. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. She had a strong
inclination to turn and run away. She did not dread the coming
interview. What she did dread was the probable event of defeat.
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