Hester was not a girl to condescend to subterfuge to gain a point. She
was often frank to painfulness. To her mind when one wished a favor, the
only way was to speak directly and ask for it. She was neither politic
nor tactful. She had decided that basket-ball was the one game that was
really worth playing. Tennis was old and did not appeal to her. She and
Jane Orr had played tennis ever since they had been old enough to hold a
racquet. But basket-ball! The thought of it sent the blood coursing
through her veins.
At the first opportunity, she spoke to Helen. She went to the subject
directly like a bullet to the bull's eye.
"Sara Summerson told me you were captain of the first team and that you
had a good bit of influence in getting the girls on the other teams. I
would like to play and I wish you would put me on. Will you?"
"I cannot put you on the first or even the scrub. I must pick from the
substitute teams to fill any vacancy. I have nothing at all to do with
the sub. The physical instructor does that, and of course picks out the
girls whom she thinks will be able to play the game. But I'll speak to
her about you."
"I wish you would," said Hester. "I'm _fairly_ aching to get into a
game."
"You'll be _completely_ aching after your first practice," said Helen.
"I'll soon get over it. My muscles were sore for days when I tried to
skate, but I didn't mind."
The first gymnasium meeting for new students was held Monday afternoon
and Hester was first girl in the room. Helen had promised to go with her
to see that she met Miss Watson but Helen was deliberate and Hester
impatient. So Hester sat alone in the gymnasium for half an hour before
any one appeared.
Miss Watson was a practical worker. Before many minutes had passed, she
had the students enrolled, the classes organized and the time appointed
for meetings. Having dispatched the regular routine work, she began the
organization of squads for tennis and basket-ball. These were primarily
to train the girls for work in the first teams which played the
tournament games with other schools.
Before she began her arrangements, Helen Loraine spoke with her. The
conversation could not be heard, but Miss Watson looked toward Hester,
smiled and nodded in affirmation. A few minutes later, she read the
names. Among the freshmen substitutes were Hester's and Berenice's
names.
"But Berenice played last year," whispered someone near Hester. "She
plays a good game, too. Why didn't Miss Watson put her first or scrub?"
The reply came but too low for Hester's ears. Helen was waiting in the
corridor when Hester came out. "I know; Miss Watson said she would put
you on. You'll have a good place for passing. You know the game from
observation. But if I were you, I'd read the rules again and again. If
you have them fairly fixed in your mind you are not so apt to make a
foul play. Do your best, and you may work up to one of the other teams
before long. Erma Thomas may not come back after the first of the year.
That will leave one place for a substitute. She plays right guard. She's
one of the finest passers we've had, but she gets rattled if she tries
to make a goal. She's too nervous to play when she is conscious that any
one is looking at her."
Hester was confident that she would not lose her head if the opportunity
to make a goal came to her. Following Helen's instructions, she studied
the book of rules. She was early at the first practice. Miss Watson gave
the positions; Helen was referee. Hester was given the place of right
guard.
"Keep your eyes open," said Helen. "I would give a good bit if you could
make a play to put you on the first team."
Berenice was left guard. A moment before the game was called, she came
up to Hester and spoke low that the others might not hear. "Helen
Loraine knows the game, but there's a whole lot of things she never
sees. Louise Reed is your opponent. She's not at all a suspicious girl.
You see to it that we win. They always pick substitutes from the team
which wins."
Hester knew little of the subtleties of human nature, and consequently
could not grasp the full import of the remark Berenice had made.
Renee Loveland and Josephine Moore were captains. To Hester it seemed
like an hour of intense excitement before the ball was in the air and
Renee had sent it forward toward her.
"Don't hold it--don't hold it," was the one thought in Hester's mind,
for that rule in particular, had made a peculiar impression upon her.
She was naturally a quick actor. Now the ball was scarcely within her
clutches until it was out again across the room to Berenice. Hester
rushed toward the goal, just as Berenice, jerking under the arm of her
opponent, passed the ball back to Hester. Again Hester deftly returned
it; making a backward movement just as Louise was about to cover her.
Again Berenice deftly caught it and dribbled for a yard or more. They
were near enough to the basket for a goal; but Berenice's opponent
covered her. The ball went flying direct across the cage. Louise made a
dash; Hester sprang forward and covered her. In the excitement of the
play, Hester had put forward two hands. Just as quickly she remembered
and swung her right arm about Louise, while with her left hand, she
tossed the ball straight into Renee's clutch. Renee, who knew the game
and played it well, did not lose her presence of mind. Like a flash, she
gave a forward leap and sent the ball to goal. But while it curved
downward in the air, the whistle of the referee was heard.
[Illustration: AGAIN HESTER DEFTLY RETURNED IT.--_Page 92._]
"Foul on the freshmen," she cried. "Right guard used two hands to
cover."
"I think you are mistaken," cried Berenice. "I wasn't playing. Hester
Alden's arm was raised, but it did not touch her opponent."
"Yes; I did!" cried Hester. "I touched her and then remembered."
"I didn't know. It must have been a very slight touch," said Louise.
"We've scored," cried Berenice.
"I am refereeing the game. Foul on the freshmen." Determination shone in
Helen's eyes as she gave Berenice a look that would have subdued a
sensitive person. Turning about, Hester tossed the ball to Louise who
made a goal from the foul of the freshmen team. The ball went back to
center and the game again was on.
At the end of the first half, the score stood six to eight in favor of
the sophomores.
Berenice came up to Hester while she was struggling into her sweater.
"You see how it is," she whispered. Her eyes were snapping with anger
and her voice fairly hissed. "You see what a little prude like you can
do. If you would have sustained me, Renee's goal would have counted us
two, and Louise would have had no chance to make a goal or foul. It
would have been 8 to 7 in our favor."
"But I really did touch," said Hester. "It was a foul, all right. I
suppose I should have remembered in time; but this is my first game, and
there's a lot to learn."
"There's something that you will never learn," was the retort and
Berenice turned and walked away.
Hester did not grasp all that Berenice wished to convey. She believed
the girl was vexed because of the score and attributed Berenice's anger
to righteous indignation at bad playing. Helen came up before the
beginning of the second half. "What about playing this, Hester?" she
asked. "You did some hard playing for a new girl. Do you think you can
stand it for a second half? You'll be stiff to-morrow. I'll ask Renee to
have Edna Bucher substitute for you."
"I'd rather finish, myself," cried Hester. "Why, I wouldn't stop now for
worlds!"
"Your own sore muscles be upon yourself then, little roommate," said
Helen smiling. "I have warned you. All that is left for me is to offer
the use of my witch-hazel and arnica."
"I will not have Edna Bucher substitute," cried Renee coming up. "I am
glad Hester has grit enough to keep to it. This evening we must make a
score."
"And to-morrow there will be wailing and groaning and rubbing of
muscles," said Helen. The ten minutes was up. Helen moved toward the
center of the cage.
During the second half, Hester had no active work. She guarded Louise
and was careful not to make another foul move. Berenice was an active
player, getting so interested in the game that she forgot her special
work. She never played into another's hand. Although Renee was the
champion at throwing goals, Berenice risked the score rather than give
the play to the center. She appeared determined that Hester should not
come within touch of the ball, and she moved like a flash of light,
hither and thither, across the cage, seeming to be everywhere at once.
Helen watched the game closely. She was an impartial referee; her one
desire being to play a fair game. She was aware of Berenice's playing at
cross purposes and watched her closely. At last she called a foul.
"I don't see why," cried Berenice. Her little beady eyes snapped as she
approached Helen and looked defiantly up at her.
"Two-hand dribble--the second time you have done the same thing. The
first I let pass unnoticed just--to give you time."
"I positively did not two-hand the ball. If that is a foul, I--"
"I am a referee. Get out of the game. Edna Bucher is called to
substitute."
"I will not--" began Berenice.
"Get out of the game within a minute or you shall be penalized for all
the games to follow." There was no disputing Helen. Her manner was calm
and her voice low, but authority was in her bearing. She stood ready to
give the signal to play; but before she put the whistle to her lips, she
said quietly, "While I am managing, we'll play an honest game or we will
not play at all."
The girls, except Berenice, cheered and clapped. She was making her way
from the gymnasium. Her heart was filled with anger and a scowl was on
her face. How she hated Helen Loraine! It was not the first time Helen
had criticised her.
"And Hester Alden will be another one just like Helen--too goody-good to
live," was her thought. Even after Berenice was being disqualified,
Hester did not understand fully all that had taken place. It was not
until they were at the baths, that a full understanding came to her.
Outside the bath, were the lockers. Sara and Renee had come up and
paused for a moment.
"Will you allow Berenice to play next game?" asked Sara.
"Miss Watson must settle that. The captain and referee may disqualify
for one game; but to make it permanent penalizing, the matter must be
brought before Miss Watson. It is a very difficult matter to explain.
The best way would be to have Miss Watson referee for one or two games.
Then she would grasp the subtleties of the situation."
They passed on. When they were almost beyond hearing, Renee's voice
sounded loud and clear.
"Sara, I do wish you'd let me wear your tan shoes down town to-morrow
evening. I have permission to go, and I wish to wear my brown suit, but
I have no tan shoes. I wear the same size as you."
Hester smiled. She had known Renee but ten days, during which time she
could not remember one instance when the conversation did not conclude
with "will you lend?"
Hester was deliberate in matters of getting from a gym suit into a
dress. When she was ready to appear, the corridor leading from the
gymnasium baths was deserted except for the sweep-women who were putting
the finishing touches to their work.
Hester hurried out. As she crossed the campus, she found Josephine Moore
sitting on the steps leading up to the dormitory. From this place, there
was an excellent view of the river and the mountain beyond. Josephine
appeared to be spellbound by it. She was a large girl with quantities of
brown hair which she drew loosely back and coiled at the back of her
head. Her eyes were large, lusterless and of a weak and faded blue, but
Josephine had read novels and knew what speaking eyes meant. She tried
to make her eyes soulful. She was of a romantic turn of mind, and
although she would not have prevaricated for the world or done another
harm by repeating anything to their detriment, she was a dreamer of
day-dreams. So well did she dream that it was difficult sometimes for
her to know where truth ended and dreams began.
"Can you not sit a while?" she asked. She moved to make room beside
herself. Her voice was low and full and had in it a pathetic quality
which was in harmony with her dreams. Hester sat down beside her. Being
somewhat awed by this magnificent creature with the soulful eyes, Hester
sat in silence.
"I love this time of day," began Josephine in low rapturous voice. "I
love the gathering twilight. I think this is the hour when poets must
sit and dream. The world and work and all horrid things are passing and
only the tender twilight hangs like a mantle over all." She paused and
looked at her companion. Hester felt that a reply of some sort was
expected. She said the first and easiest thing that came to mind. "Yes,
it is sort of nice."
"'Nice' is scarcely the word. I wish I knew what would exactly express
the feeling. Sublime, soulful--" She paused and raised her eyes as
though to scan the heavens. "I suppose I feel differently from other
people. They tell me that my singing shows soul. I myself have often
noticed the difference between myself and other girls. Would you believe
it? They pass here with laughter and jest. I cannot do that. I always
pause and look at the trees and river. It seems as though a spell comes
upon me. I cannot laugh and jest in the midst of such sublime things."
"Is Hester Alden there?" cried a gay voice. "Oh, is that you, Jo?
Mooning? You had better come in. If you sit on those cold stones, you'll
take cold and your nose will be red and your eyes watery. You'll not be
sublime then." The cheer and good-nature in the voice robbed it of
ill-feeling. Erma laughed as she appeared. No one could take exception
to anything she said. She was too happy--too well satisfied with the
world and the people about her to do anything or say anything in
bitterness.
Josephine arose slowly as became one of a poetic and soulful
temperament.
"You are the slowest mortal, Jo. You are wanted up in Philo Hall. You
haven't fifteen minutes until the first study bell. The girls have been
looking everywhere for you. You are on the program committee."
"I was carried away--," began Miss Moore. But Erma had turned her back
upon the girl. As she was about to speak to Hester, she was diverted
from her intention by the sound of wheels. Both she and Hester turned
to look as a carriage with a coachman in livery, came from
porte-cochere, turned down the driveway and passed within a few feet of
where the girls stood. The carriage passed under an arc light and Erma
and Hester saw distinctly the features of the woman in the carriage. She
had a beautiful face, although marked with care. Her hair was white, yet
her bearing as she sat erect, was that of a young woman.
"What a sweet face!" cried Hester. "That is the carriage that blocked
our way, the day that Aunt Debby came up to school with me. I remember
most distinctly."
The occupant of the carriage had not looked in their direction. Even had
she done so, she could not have distinguished the girls; for they stood
leaning against the pillars and the moving shadows fell dark upon them.
When the carriage had passed, Erma turned to her companion. "Helen was
looking for you. I told her if I saw you, I'd tell you to go to your
room. Helen has had company--at least I saw someone in her room."
"It may be Aunt Debby," cried Hester. She did not wait to explain. She
paused not to excuse herself, but went racing down the corridor as fast
as her feet would carry her. Her heels clattered on the hard wood floors
and the sound of her labored breathing was audible at a considerable
distance.
Just as she reached Number Fifteen, the door opened and Hester was taken
by the arm. This was so unexpected that her first impulse was to jerk
away, and hurry on. Fortunately a sober second thought overcame the
impulse.
"Miss Alden, is the building burning? Why this haste?" Hester raised her
eyes to those of the preceptress. Miss Burkham was the acme of all that
was cultured and elegant. No imagination was strong enough to picture
her, other than deliberate, low-voiced, serene of countenance. Hester
who knew more of bluntness than irony, replied fearlessly, "No, there is
no fire. I wished to get to my room as quickly as possible."
"So I surmised. But I see no necessity for this unladylike haste." Her
restraining hand was yet upon Hester's shoulder. The girl felt herself
quivering with the desire to be off down the corridor and up the stairs
to Number Sixty-two. What if Aunt Debby should really be there waiting
for her? Her heart beat fast with the thought.
Miss Burkham also felt the quivering of flesh under restraint. She
delayed Hester yet longer while she made plain to her the unwritten
by-laws of a lady's conduct.
"No lady races through the halls, in such fashion. It is the manner of a
tom-boy. You may walk slowly down the corridor. I will stand here to see
if you comprehend just what I mean by slowly. I trust that I may not be
compelled to ask you to return in order that I may give you instructions
in regard to the manner in which a lady walks."
"No, Miss Burkham," replied Hester humbly. She controlled her impatience
at being thus detained. Miss Burkham released her and Hester moved
forward as though by well-directed machinery.
On reaching Number Sixty-two, she found Helen standing before her
dressing-table. She was alone. She turned as Hester entered.
"Little roommate," she said smiling a welcome at Hester. "Little
roommate, I am vexed with you. I have been sending messengers everywhere
in the hope of finding you. My dear Aunt Harriet was here and asked for
you in particular. She waited until the last possible moment. And see
there."
Helen pointed to a hamper which stood near the doorway. "She has brought
us fruit, cake, and roasted chickens. No, I did not open the basket.
Aunt Harriet told me what was there. It is for you as well as for me. I
know Aunt Harriet, and I know how the basket is arranged. There will be
a chicken for you and one for me; a box of fudge for you and one for me;
and so on through the entire menu. Aunt Harriet is very much afraid that
some girl will have her feelings hurt or feel slighted. Open up the
basket, Hester. I must take off this waist. The collar hurts me. It
always was too high. I'll feel more comfortable in a kimona."
She turned to her dressing table. "Aunt Harriet brought me something
which pleased me. I have an old pin which belonged to mother when she
was a girl. I thought I had lost it, but Aunt Harriet said I left it at
her home and she brought it with her."
Helen held the pin in her hand while she talked. Then she laid it
carelessly in a little pin tray on the dresser. It was a pin of unusual
style, about the size of a dime. The outer band was of a peculiar gold.
Within this was a yellowish-white stone which reflected the light like a
flame of fire.
Hester's eyes would have opened wide at the sight of the pin, but she
did not see it, for her attention was on the hamper she was unpacking.