After a few days' acquaintance with Helen Loraine, Hester understood
what Sara meant by saying that Helen had an "air" about her. She was
always friendly, but never intimate or familiar. The sweep-women in the
hall were accorded the same courtesy as a teacher. She was sympathetic
without being gushing. She was just in her treatment of others, generous
and kind, yet she never allowed herself to be imposed upon. With Hester,
she divided all things equally; neither giving nor keeping a larger
part. She was as just to herself as to others. She would have battled
royally before she would have given up one of her rights. Yet no one
imposed upon her; for there was that about her which instinctively fixed
the boundary line. It was not what she did or said, but what she _was_,
which caused her to find favor among the students.
During the first week, Helen and Hester spent their spare time in
arranging their rooms. It was really marvelous what could be done with
cretonne and dotted swiss. Hester had come prepared to do her part in
the furnishings. Debby Alden, acting upon Miss Richards's suggestion,
had selected for Hester, fancy covers, cushions and a few pictures.
Hester had not realized the importance of the accessories until the
"fixing up" fever was apparent. During the first week of school, the
conversation of the entire dormitory was concerning the arrangement of
their rooms. There were no calls made. The conventions of the hall
frowned upon one student calling upon another until that other had time
to put her rooms in livable condition.
Working together, Helen and Hester soon grew friendly. Before the week
had ended, Helen knew that Debby Alden was the most remarkable article
in the aunt line that the age had produced. She knew also that Hester
had neither sister nor brother; but she did not know that the name Alden
had been given her by courtesy rather than by right, or that Hester and
the beloved Aunt Debby held no ties of blood in common.
On the other hand, Hester learned that Helen was an only child; that she
had a cousin Robert Vail who was almost as a brother to her; that Robert
had neither brother nor sister, and that his mother, who was Helen's
Aunt Harriet, loved Helen and kept her at the Vail home as much as
possible.
"You would like Aunt Harriet," said Helen in one of the confidences. It
was Friday evening. The study hour had been short. The girls in kimonas
and with their hair in braids, sat in their sitting-room. As they
talked, they gave satisfied admiring glances about the room.
"Aunt Harriet is only forty, yet her hair is white. She had nervous
trouble and brain fever that caused her to become gray; but in other
ways she is like a girl. She is most unselfish. The girls in school love
her. She understands what girls like and is always doing something nice
for them. I cannot explain to you in what way she is so attractive. When
you meet her, you'll understand just how she is."
"I may never meet her," said practical Hester.
"You will if you remain at Dickinson. When she is at her home, she comes
to see me very often. Her country home, Valehurst, is back on the hills,
about three miles from here. It is a charming place. You have noticed
how the road gradually rises from Susquehanna Avenue. It ends in a
little plateau and there Aunt Harriet's home stands."
"Her country home? Doesn't she always live there?"
"No, uncle has business which keeps him in the city a great part of the
time. He must be there during the winter. Generally, the family stay at
Valehurst until the last of September. Then Aunt Harriet drives or
motors in each week to see me. She likes her horses best, because they
are alive. She is very fond of animals and was a fine horsewoman when
she was younger. She always takes me for a ride, and best of all, takes
my roommate with me."
"But she does not know me," Hester was tremblingly expectant. At home,
automobiles were rare, and Hester knew no more of them than the smell of
the gasoline. To ride in an automobile would be a joy unspeakable. If
it should chance that Mrs. Vail would take her, she would write and
tell Jane Orr about it and describe the sensations that went with the
ride.
"But she will know you. She makes a point of knowing all my friends. I
know just what she will say the instant she comes into this room. She
has a proud way with her. She carries herself very straight and holds
her head high." Helen arose and moving toward the door, showed to Hester
the grand manner of her Aunt Harriet.
"She will say," continued Helen, "'I am very glad to see you, Helen. I
miss you very much. Have you everything you need for your room and your
wardrobe? If you haven't, make out a list and I shall see that you are
provided for, and your roommate, dear. I hope you like her. I should
like to meet her.'"
Helen came back to her easy chair. She laughed softly as she leaned
back. "And then you'll be brought in and her heart will warm to you. It
always does to every girl she meets, and it will to you. Do you know
what you will do, Hester Palmer Alden?"
"No, about that time, I'll be so embarrassed that I shall not be able
to say a word. If your aunt is haughty and proud, I shall be afraid."
"But she is not that kind of proud. I know what you'll do. You'll do
just what every girl has done. You'll fall heels over head in love with
her and before she goes, you'll be ready to declare that she's the
dearest woman in the world."
"Except Aunt Debby," said Hester with dignity.
"Hester, will you light the alchohol lamp. Let us have a cup of cocoa
before we go to bed. You set the chafing-dish boiling while I look for
Aunt Harriet's picture."
Helen began her search among the pictures which had been heaped in a
basket; for after grave consideration, she and Hester had decided that
photographs ranged about the wall were out-of-date and not at all in
harmony with the other fittings of their rooms.
Hester lighted the alchohol burner; suspended the kettle and brought
forth the cups. This was one of the side-issues of school life on which
she had not counted. She had been anticipating successive days of hard
study and recitations. Having never experienced it, she could not dream
of the little social bits which crept in as easy and naturally as they
did at home; the half hour of confidential chat, the lunches, the visits
into the rooms of the other girls, the walks and rides; the gymnasium
stunts and the dances where the tall girls lead.
The kettle was boiling before Helen found the picture.
"Here it is!" she cried triumphantly. "It is really soiled for I have
kept it out for two or three years. This does not look as Aunt Harriet
does now. It was taken a long time ago." As she talked she held out the
card to Hester.
"Why, that is the picture I liked so well. When you were not here--that
first evening I was alone, I looked over your pictures. What a sweet
face she has and what dear little children! Is that little boy your
cousin Robert?"
"Yes, but he does not look like that now. When I wish to tease him, I
show him this picture. He thinks it is horrid--perfectly horrid--though
the word he uses is 'beastly.' He declares if he could find the man who
took such a picture he'd have him in jail--or have his life."
"What for?" asked Hester.
"Simply for putting out such a picture. Rob says it is libel--pure and
simple, to say he ever looked like that."
"I think it is lovely," said Hester. "Is the baby you?"
"No; that is Aunt Harriet's little girl. I am a year older than she."
Hester studied the picture attentively. While she did so, her mind
reviewed the remarks Helen had made in regard to the Vail family. There
were statements at variance.
"You said Robert had no sisters or brothers," she said.
"He hasn't," was the reply. "They did--that is--" Helen was visibly
embarrassed. She could not equivocate, neither could she go into details
of a family history. She hesitated a moment and said, "Little Dorothy
was not with them long--just a year."
"Poor little baby. It must be dreadful to die when you are little. You
miss so much. If I had died when I was little, I should have been sorry
all the time thinking about what I had missed."
Hester's new logic caused her not to notice that Helen had made no
affirmation in regard to the death of the child.
"Little Dorothy," was what Hester called her. From that time on, at odd
moments, Hester introduced the subject of "little Dorothy," yet never
became aware that the subject was not a pleasing one to Helen who never
encouraged or took part in it.
Taking the card, Helen slipped it into the basket.
"Is your cocoa ready, Hester? I am almost famished. I never eat veal, so
Friday evenings I go hungry. Friday is always veal day at school."
"I was so interested in the picture that I forgot about the cocoa." She
hurried to the alcohol lamp.
"It is burnt out. It really did not have much in it. I should have
filled it, I suppose. But I am not accustomed to cooking in this way.
The water is boiling."
She measured the cocoa and cream into the cups and poured the boiling
water from the kettle upon it.
"I wish your Aunt Harriet would come to see you to-morrow," continued
Hester. "I liked her picture when I first saw it. I know that I should
like her almost as much as I do Aunt Debby. Do you think that she will
come to-morrow?"
"No, not to-morrow. She went away last week. She did not expect to go,
but she heard something which caused her to go to Canada. Poor Aunt
Harriet!"
The last words surprised Hester. She could see no just cause for the use
of that word "poor," in connection with Mrs. Vail. To Hester's mind, a
woman with a city and country home, automobiles, horses, and servants in
livery was far from being poor.
The week had been so filled with new experiences that Hester had been
from her room only for recitations, meals and the required walk about
the campus. She had met a number of the girls, but with the exception of
Helen and Sara, could not remember the name of any.
"I'll never know one girl from another. They all look alike to me," she
said to Sara one day.
"Not when you know them. You'll know Renee--" She stopped in time. She
was not naturally critical. To express her opinion to Hester concerning
the girls, was not fair.
"We are all different," she continued slowly. "All with different
virtues and faults. To be perfectly candid, I'm the only really fine one
in the set."
They had been walking arm in arm up and down the corridor. As they came
to the rear door of the dormitory, Sara paused. "More notices, I see.
Come, Hester, we must know the worst at once. Here is where our dear
Miss Burkham makes known her by-laws."
For the first time, Hester observed the white cards stuck along the edge
of the door. Pausing before them, she read aloud.
"The young ladies will not make use of this entrance except to gain
admittance to the gymnasium. On all other occasions, the front dormitory
door must be used."
Then Sara explained. "Miss Burkham does not approve of visits at rear
doors. When the girls have on the gym suits, they are not permitted to
go to the front of the building. If you go out this door, you can enter
the gymnasium without attracting undue attention."
Sara smiled. Undue attention was Miss Burkham's bugbear. She was always
endeavoring to instill into the minds of her charges, that a lady never
attracts undue attention. The word had been in use so frequently that it
had become a by-word among the students.
"The next card is what makes my mouth water," continued Sara who had
been reading silently.
"Beginning with the first week of the fall term, the ice-cream man will
keep to the front side of the east wing. Plates will be put in their
usual place for Belva to take care of."
"Basket-ball team Number one--known as the Invincibles will hold a
business meeting at 10:30 Saturday morning in the gymnasium."
This last notice was signed, "Helen Loraine, Captain."
"She never told me," cried Hester. "I never suspected that she was
interested."
"Helen never tells anything about herself," said Sara. "Sometimes I
grow quite exasperated about her reticence. She has been on the team
ever since she was a student here. She played well before she came. Her
cousin, Rob Vail, was a captain when he was in school and he taught her
all the tricks of the game."
Hester had no words to express herself. Basket-ball! It was enough to
send the color to her cheeks. She had seen the boys in the high-school
play. At home, girls did not indulge in such games. It might be that she
herself, Hester Alden, could learn to play and be put on one of those
teams. The thought brightened her cheeks and sent the blood through her
veins with excitement.
"Who teaches you? How many teams have you, and how can you get on one?
Does it take long to learn to play?"
Sara looked at her. Sara was deliberate. Her expression now was one of
sad surprise.
"Do you often talk as fast as that?" she asked. "And do you expect your
friends to answer with the same velocity? If you do, Hester Alden, never
come to me with your questions."
Hester laughed. "I always talk fast when I get excited. The words pop
from my mouth like pop-corn over a hot fire."
"Give me time and I'll answer your questions. Our crack team is the
Invincibles. They are the only one we allow to play the tournament games
with outside teams. They play with the girls from the high school, the
Normal Training School and, with some of the seminary teams. I really do
not remember how many games were scheduled last year. They have never
allowed me to play. I'm too--. Helen Loraine is good enough to say
'_deliberate_.' The other girls call it '_slow_.'
"Then of course there must be a scrub team for the Invincibles to battle
against. You must play scrub before you can hope to become an
Invincible. Then the freshies and juniors have substitute teams. They
practice with each other and fill up on the other teams as they are
needed."
"I think I could learn to play," said Hester. "I am not--not very
deliberate."
"I should say not, if you fly at a ball in the same way you talk. You
might get on a substitute team. Miss Watson, the physical-culture
teacher, will hold a meeting soon. The first week of school is generally
so busy that the gymnasium work is not begun.
"But next week, she will meet the girls and make arrangements for the
work on the teams and in the gym. If I were you and really wished to
play, I'd speak to Helen Loraine. She'll get you on if anyone can. You
need a friend at court, for there are always more applications than
there are places or times for practice.
"We must turn back. Miss Burkham would campus us, if we were to go out
at this door." Sara turned and arm in arm, the girls moved toward the
front entrance. "Listen, do you hear that melodious bell? That is
Sykes's cow-bell. Come, and I'll treat you."
Hester followed as Sara lead the way from the front dormitory door out
on to the campus. As they passed the end room, the sound of voices in
conversation came to them.
"Can you let me have some perfume, Erma, and a fine handkerchief? I
neglected to put mine in the laundry."
"Help yourself," was the reply.
Sara smiled. "Erma Thomas is easily worked. If she does not take a firm
stand, she'll keep Renee in perfume and other extras for the entire
year."
Just then the door opened and Renee Loveland came out. She was a tall,
handsome girl, with the bearing of a princess. She bore in her hands a
bottle of perfume and two dainty handkerchiefs.
The campus sloped naturally toward the public road; yet it was several
feet higher. The boundary had been made definite by a low cement coping.
On this, sat several girls, among which was Berenice Smith. Across the
road was an ice-cream wagon, surrounded by a score of girls with their
purses in their hands. The ice-cream man was measuring cream into small
wooden butter-plates.
"Here's the way we do," said Sara as Hester looked dubiously about in
search of means with which she might dispose of her cream.
"This is the way." Sara deftly broke off a bit of the dish where it
curved upward. "These make the best spoons in the world, and one never
need bother keeping them in order."
Soon walking by two's and three's, across the campus, moved the girls,
each bearing in her hand her wooden dish with ice-cream.
Berenice sat alone on the coping. Hester Alden was not a reader of faces
and could give no reasons for her pet likes and dislikes. She
instinctively did not like Berenice, although the acquaintance had gone
no further than a passing word. Berenice was dark, with coloring which
inclined to swarthiness; her brow was low, and her eyes small and deeply
set. She made an effort to be pleasant and invariably made flattering
remarks to those with whom she conversed. As the girls approached, she
held out her purse toward Sara.
"Be good and bring me a chocolate and peach cream," she said. "I am as
far as I am allowed to go."
Taking the purse, Sara performed the commission and returned.
"For how long?" she asked.
"Two weeks. One week is almost over."
This was all Greek to Hester. She looked from one to the other; but
they, taking it for granted that all the school world understood,
offered neither explanation nor information.
As they crossed the tan-bark, Mame Cross met them. She looked like a
fashion-plate in a tailored gown and handsome hat.
"I've had permission to go down town," she said. "Do you want me to get
anything for you?" The question was put to Sara.
"We're out of alcohol. You'd better order some."
"Did you know that Berenice is campused for two weeks? She made fudge
Monday evening after the study bell rang. Miss Burkham discovered it at
once. Anyone passing through the hall could smell fudge cooking."
"It seems strange that Miss Burkham should campus her for that. We made
fudge. It was the first night and no one is expected to observe study
hours during the first evening."
"But Berenice lied. You know Miss Burkham will not tolerate deception.
It was not making fudge but the deception that caused the punishment."
Mame moved away. She would have been a beautiful girl, had she not
looked bored and unhappy.
"You're new suit is beautiful, Mame," said Sara over her shoulder.
"Do you think so? I simply cannot bear it. I never have anything like
other girls."
"That is Maine's old cry," said Sara when she was beyond hearing. "She
is the best-dressed girl in school and she has a father who is devoted
to her. She has everything in the world to make her happy, but she's
always complaining. Now, Erma is different. She's perfectly satisfied.
Every dress she owns is a perfect love of a dress."
Hester had said very little during this hour with Sara; but she had
learned a great deal. There had been no guile or envy in Sara's frank
expression of the virtues and faults of her friends; and not for an
instant did she think she was making an error or stepping over the
border line of kindliness when she told Hester all she knew of those
students.