HER TEMPTATION
Face to face with her first serious temptation stood Jean Bruce. Always
beyond anything else had she desired to be popular, even in the old days
at the ranch when the only society in which she had a part was composed
of the few neighbors in riding distance of the Lodge. But here at
Primrose Hall was her first real opportunity to gratify her heart’s
desire, and would she for the sake of another be compelled to give it
up? For how could she accept the honor that might be bestowed upon her
of being chosen for Junior class president without turning traitor to
Olive. After her friends’ treatment of Olive in front of the “Theta”
house on the afternoon of Peter Drummond’s visit, Jean could no longer
shut her eyes to Olive’s unpopularity. What was the cause of it? Try as
she might she could not find out, yet the prejudice was certainly deeper
than any one could suppose. Suspecting Winifred Graham to be at the
bottom of the mischief, Jean kept a close watch upon her, but if she had
circulated any story against Olive no one would confess it. “Miss
Ralston is so shy and queer, her appearance is so odd, I do not think
she enjoys being with other girls,” these evasions of the truth were all
Jean could get hold of. But in the meantime there was no doubt that
Olive’s classmates absolutely refused to have her in either of the two
sororities and that this insult was almost unprecedented in the history
of Primrose Hall. Of course, Jean might have appealed to Miss Winthrop
or one of the other teachers, asking that their influence be exerted in
Olive’s behalf, but this for Olive’s own sake she was unwilling to do.
For even if Olive should be forced into one of the sororities, how would
it change her classmates’ attitude toward her? Would it not make them
more unkind than ever? No, there were only two courses open to Jean,
either she must join the sorority she had chosen without any question of
Olive’s being a member or else she must decline to be admitted herself
until such time as the girls should come to their senses and voluntarily
desire the election of them both.
Of course, if membership in one or the other of the two sororities had
been Jean’s only dilemma there had been small excuse for her hesitation.
But a larger issue was at stake. Unless she became a member of a
sorority and as one of its leaders could influence new girls to her
cause, she might lose the Junior presidency and Winifred Graham, the
head of the Kappa organization, would surely be chosen in her stead.
Jean had won her way to her present popularity in a very charming
fashion, just by the power of her own personality, which is after all
the greatest force in the world. She had no prominent family
connections, as so many of the Primrose Hall girls had, and she
continued to act as though she had no money except what was necessary
for very simple requirements. Indeed, she behaved as she must have done
had the ranch girls come east to boarding school before the discovery of
the gold mine of Rainbow Creek. But it was a hard fight and many times
the young girl longed to break faith with herself.
Before setting out on their journey, after a careful reading of the
Primrose Hall catalogue, Ruth Drew had ordered the three ranch girls’
school outfits, but now these clothes seemed so simple and ordinary that
at least two of the girls hated the wearing of them.
Each one of them had several pretty school dresses of light weight
flannel and serge, two simple silks for afternoon entertainments and
dinner use and a single party dress for the monthly dances which were a
feature of Primrose Hall school life. Their underclothes were plentiful
but plain. Indeed, until Jean saw her friend Margaret Belknap’s
lingerie, she had supposed that only brides, and very wealthy ones at
that, could have such possessions. Just think of a single item of a
dozen hand-made nightgowns at fifteen dollars apiece in a school girl’s
outfit; and yet these were among Margaret’s clothes. Jean openly
expressed her wonder and yet managed quietly to refuse to receive a gift
of two of them without hurting her new friend’s feelings.
To a girl brought up in the conventional and moneyed atmosphere that
Margaret Belknap had been, Jean was a revelation. She seemed not to know
the meaning of snobbery, not to care who people were so long as she
liked what they were. Her manners were as charming to one person as to
another and her interest as sincere. Margaret had already asked Jean to
visit her in her home in New York during the Christmas holidays, as she
longed to introduce her to her own family in order that they might lose
their prejudice against western girls. But more especially Margaret
desired to bring her Harvard College brother, Cecil, and Jean together
so as to find out what they would think of one another. She was only
awaiting the first opportunity. In the meantime, although Jean would not
accept other gifts from her wealthy friend, she could not refuse the
flowers Margaret so constantly sent her. Indeed, she went about school
so much of the time with a pink carnation tucked in her hair that she
soon became known as “the pink carnation girl.”
One of Jean’s greatest self-denials was not being able to send flowers
to Margaret in return, but in order to retain her masquerade of poverty,
most of the time she had to refrain. Only now and then she did relieve
her feelings by presenting Margaret a bunch of Violets or roses
regardless of cost. And occasionally a box of roses or chrysanthemums
would find their way into the room of a teacher who had been especially
kind to Olive, Frieda or her.
With Olive there was apparently no self-denial in failing to spread
abroad the news of their wealth and in spending no pocket money, but
with Frieda the case was very different. It is quite certain that Jean
would never have had her way with Frieda except by appealing directly to
Jack for advice and assistance. When the letter from Jack came begging
her little sister to keep the secret of their wealth and to agree to
Jean’s plan, Frieda’s rebellion had weakened. Not that she saw any sense
in her sacrifice or was in the least reconciled to it, but simply
because under the circumstances, while Jack was still so ill, she could
refuse her nothing. And this self-restraint was particularly hard on
both the ranch girls, because never before in their lives had they had
any money of their own to spend and now Jack was sending each one of
them fifty dollars a month for pin money. Think of the fortune of it, if
you have had only one-tenth of that amount per month for your own use
before!
And yet so far only once in all the weeks had Frieda yielded to
temptation. Going up to New York one Saturday for her first visit to the
grand opera, she had drifted into a big department store with half a
dozen of the other school girls and their chaperon in order to buy
herself a pair of gloves.
Late that same afternoon Jean and Olive, who happened at the time to be
dressing for dinner, received a shock. An elegant young woman, arrayed
in a dark blue velvet coat and a hat encircled with a large,
lighter-blue feather, entering Jean’s room, dropped exhausted on the
bed. A cry brought Olive to the scene, but either because Frieda looked
too pretty in her new clothes to scold, or because she pretended to be
ill from fatigue, no word of reproach was spoken to her, not even when a
pale blue silk followed next morning by the early express and
twenty-five dollars had to be borrowed from Olive and Jean to pay for
it.
Possibly both of the older girls were secretly pleased at Frieda’s
extravagance, because, while saving money is a virtuous act, it
certainly is a very dull one. And while Olive was storing her income
away in a lock box, wondering if it were possible to return it some day
in a gift for Jack, Jean was also hoarding hers in the same fashion, but
intending finally to spend it all in one grand splurge.
While Jean often regretted having taken the vow of poverty at Primrose
Hall, she was always convinced of its wisdom. That there could be so
much talk and thought of money as she had lately heard among the set of
girls of whom Winifred Graham was leader, was repellant to her and, as
Jean already had developed strong class feeling, one of her chief
reasons for desiring to be elected Junior class president was in order
to prove that this snobbish set was not really in control of Primrose
Hall. Would Ruth and Jack and Jim Colter, the overseer of their ranch,
who had always said money would be the ruination of Jean, not feel proud
of her if they could hear that she won out in her battle without its
help. And yet what would they think of her if she turned her back on
Olive? Surely if Jean had not been so harassed and torn between the twin
enemies, ambition and love, she would hardly have accused Olive of being
the cause of her own unpopularity and certainly not at so unpropitious
an hour as she chose. But the time for Jean to make up her mind one way
or another was drawing close at hand and so far Olive had no idea of her
friend’s struggle, naturally supposing that Jean had already entered the
“Theta” society without mentioning it to her in order to spare her
pride.
Monthly dances were an institution at Primrose Hall and it was now the
evening of the first one of them. Of course, dances at girls’ boarding
schools are not unusual, but the dances at Primrose Hall were, for Miss
Winthrop allowed young men to be present at them. Her guests were
brothers and cousins of her students or else intimate friends, carefully
introduced by the girls’ parents. Miss Winthrop regarded Primrose Hall
as a training school for the larger social world and desired her
students to learn to accept an acquaintance with young men as simply and
naturally as they did the same acquaintance with girls. If young girls
and boys never saw or spoke to one another during the years of their
school life, it was Miss Winthrop’s idea that they developed false
notions in regard to one another and false attitudes. Therefore,
although no one could be more severe than the principal of Primrose Hall
toward any shadow of flirtation, she was entirely reasonable toward a
simple friendship. It was because most of her girls had respected Miss
Winthrop’s judgment in this matter that her monthly dances, at first
much criticized, had since become a great success. Watching her students
and their friends together, the older woman could often give her
students the help and advice they needed in their first knowledge of
young men. So when Olive sent down an imploring message asking to be
excused from attendance at these monthly dances, Miss Winthrop had
positively refused her request. No excuse save illness was ever accepted
from either the Junior or Senior girls.
It was a quarter before eight o’clock and the dance was to begin at
eight that evening, when Olive, already dressed, strolled slowly into
Jean’s and Frieda’s room, pretending that she wished to assist them, but
really longing for some word of sympathy or encouragement to help her in
overcoming her shyness.
Frieda had slipped across the hall to show herself in her new blue gown
to the Johnson sisters, therefore Jean was alone. At the very instant of
Olive’s entrance she was thinking of her with a good deal of annoyance
and uncertainty and now the very fact that Olive looked so charming in a
pale-green crepe dress made her crosser than ever. When Olive was so
pretty how could the school girls fail to like her?
But Olive immediately on entering the room and entirely unconscious of
Jean’s anger, stood silent for a moment lost in admiration of her
friend’s appearance. In truth, to-night Jean was “a pink carnation
girl,” for Margaret Belknap had sent her a great box of the deep
rose-colored variety and she wore a wreath of them in her hair. Quite by
accident her frock happened to be of the same color and the rose was
particularly becoming to her healthy pallor and the dark brown of her
hair, while to-night the excitement of attending her first school dance
made Jean’s brown eyes sparkle and her lips a deep crimson.
“I do wish Ruth could see you to-night,” Olive said wistfully, “for I
think she has already cared more for you than even for Frieda or Jack.”
“And not for you at all, Olive, I suppose,” Jean answered ungraciously.
“I do wish you would get over the habit of depreciating yourself. Didn’t
Miss Winthrop say the other day that we generally got what we expected
in this world and if you don’t expect people to like you and are too shy
and proud to let them, why how can they be nice to you?”
Olive colored, but did not reply at once.
“I do wish Jack were here,” Jean continued, “for she would have some
influence with you and not let you be so pokey and unfriendly. I am sure
I have tried in vain to stir you up and now I think I’ll write Jack and
Ruth how you are behaving. Really, you are spoiling Frieda’s and my good
times at school by being so stiff and touchy.” And Jean, knowing that
Olive did not yet understand how her failure to be invited into either
sorority was influencing her chance for the class election, yet had the
grace to turn her face away.
For Olive had grown white. “Please don’t write to Jack or Ruth, Jean,”
she asked quietly, “I do not wish them to know I am not a success at
school and if you tell them that no one here likes me they will then
know that I am unhappy and will be worried, and Jack must not have any
worry now. It isn’t that I don’t try to make the girls like me. You are
mistaken if you think I don’t try; but oh, what is the matter with me,
Jean, that makes me so unpopular?”
In an instant Jean’s arms were about Olive and she was kissing her
warmly. “Don’t be a goose, dear, there is nothing the matter with you
and you are not unpopular really; it is just some horrid, silly mistake.
Now promise me that to-night you won’t be frightened and you will be
friendly with everybody.” In this instant Jean made up her mind that in
some unexplainable way Olive must be standing in her own light or else
her classmates must see how charming she was.
Olive promised with a quaking heart, knowing that many eyes would soon
be upon her to-night, including Miss Winthrop’s, who would be noticing
her unpopularity. And would she know a single guest at the dance?
Frieda and Mollie Johnson had already disappeared, so that Jean and
Olive went down to the big reception rooms together, holding each
other’s hands like little girls.