A VOLUNTEER MESSENGER.
While the news of Katherine's injury soon spread about the college, it
was reported merely as one of those unintentional happenings for which
no one was actually culpable. The owners of cherished cars were canny
enough to realize that to capitalize the accident meant jeopardy to
their privileges. All knew that a certain important college for girls
had recently banned cars. None were anxious that Hamilton College should
find cause to do likewise.
There was one person, however, upon whose action no one had reckoned.
That particular person chanced to be Professor Wenderblatt. As a friend
of his daughter's and his most brilliant pupil, the professor cherished
a warm regard for Katherine. One of the freshmen in the car driven by
Harriet Stephens chanced to be a friend of Lillian's. The latter
received from her a fairly accurate account of the accident on the
following Monday. Nor did the freshman fail to place the blame where it
belonged.
Highly indignant, Lillian regaled her father with the news at dinner on
Monday evening, declaring that she thought something ought to be done to
make the Sans stop their reckless driving. Professor Wenderblatt, who
was bound by no ties of school-girl honor, decided to have a private
word on the subject with President Matthews. The fact that Katherine had
just missed having her back broken was serious enough in his belief to
warrant a reprimand from headquarters to the offenders.
Utterly unaware that she had a zealous, but an undesired defender,
Katherine returned to her classes after a two weeks' absence apparently
in good trim. With her re-appearance on the campus the Sans took heart
again. Leslie had not been summoned to the president's office. Nothing
had occurred to point to trouble from that direction.
The disastrous ending of the freshman picnic had dampened her ardor for
electioneering for a few days. Gradually it returned. Aided by Lola
Elster and Alida Burton, who were eager to please her, Leslie endeavored
again by means of luncheons, dinners and treats to rally the freshmen to
Elizabeth Walbert's banner. Certain wise freshmen, however, had
discovered for themselves Phyllis Moore's many good qualities. They
intended to nominate her and proceeded to root energetically for her.
This contingent had not been pleased with the patronizing manner which
the Sans had displayed towards them at the picnic. They were altogether
too independent and honorable to barter their class vote for a mess of
pottage.
"Freshie election this afternoon," announced Jerry, as she caught up
with Marjorie on the steps of the Hall. "Saw you half way across the
campus. You might as well have been ten miles away. I trilled but you
didn't hear me. I'll bet that election will be a brisk and busy affair."
"I didn't hear you trill. I saw you just as I started up the walk. I
hear Phil has quite strong support. It would be great if she'd win after
all the fuss the Sans have made over Miss Walbert."
"She says she won't," was Jerry's disappointing reply. "She thinks over
half the class will vote for Miss Walbert. If they do I shall be sore
enough at them to stay away from the freshman frolic."
"There's to be a class meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss that very
frolic. Did you see the notice yesterday?"
"Yep. Nothing gets by me that I happen to see. I saw that," Jerry made
humorous reply. "I suppose it is up to us to do the agreeable this year,
also the decorating."
"Also the gallant escort act. Oh, my!" Marjorie exclaimed in sudden
consternation. "Something important nearly got by me. I promised Miss
Humphrey this noon to give Lucy a message from her. Her secretary is
sick and she needs someone for a few days. She is away behind in her
letters. Goodbye. I'll see you later."
Marjorie promptly disappeared into the house in search of Lucy. Her
quest proved fruitless. Lucy was not in her own room or with any of the
other Lookouts. Katherine was also not at home, which pointed to the
fact that the two had gone somewhere together.
"They're at Lillian's," guessed Marjorie. "I had better walk over to
Hamilton Hall and tell Miss Humphrey I haven't seen Lucy," was her next
thought. "She may be waiting for her."
It was not more than five minutes' walk across the campus to the Hall.
Marjorie ran part of the way and bounded up the steps of the building,
breathless and rosy.
"It was kind in you to take so much trouble, Miss Dean," Miss Humphrey
said gratefully, as Marjorie explained Lucy's non-appearance.
"It was no trouble at all. I will surely see Miss Warner tonight. I wish
there was something I could do to help you. I'm afraid I'd make a very
poor secretary." Marjorie smiled at her own lack of secretarial ability.
"There is a service you can do for me. May I ask, have you anything
particular to do before dinner? Something occurred today in the routine
of the business of the college which makes it necessary for me to send a
note to Doctor Matthews or else go over to his home to see him at once.
He has not been at the Hall today, and I feel that I should not let this
matter go over until tomorrow without, at least, sending word to him. I
can't go myself. My work will keep me here until after six. Then I have
a meeting on hand tonight. If you will take a note for me to the Doctor,
I shall be eternally grateful."
"I'd love to," Marjorie responded heartily.
"That is truly a weighty matter off my mind," smiled the registrar.
Immediately she busied herself with the writing of the note to be
intrusted to Marjorie.
"There will be no answer," she said to Marjorie, when, fifteen minutes
later, she handed the letter to the willing messenger. "If Doctor
Matthews is not in, leave it with a member of the family. Please don't
intrust it to the maid. If it should happen that no one is at home, then
you had better come back with it to my office."
"Very well." Feeling quite at home with Miss Humphrey, whom she had
liked on sight, Marjorie drew herself up and saluted. "That is the way I
do at home," she laughed. "My mother is Captain to me and my father
General. I'm First Lieutenant Dean. I'll endeavor to carry out your
order like a good soldier." Wheeling about with military precision,
Marjorie saluted again and left the office. The registrar watched her go
with a smile. She reflected that she had never known so beautiful a girl
as Marjorie to be so utterly unspoiled.
Doctor Matthews' residence was situated at the extreme western end of
the campus. Although Marjorie had passed it many times, she had never
before had occasion to go there. She had never met the president of
Hamilton College personally, and since she had known of Miss Remson's
grievance she had experienced a certain loss of respect for him. She was
therefore indifferent as to whether she delivered the letter to him or
to a member of the family.
As she mounted the steps to his home, which looked like a smaller
edition of Wayland Hall, the front door opened and a young woman stepped
out upon the veranda. She was a tall thin girl with pale blue eyes and
straight heavy brown hair. Her features non-descript, her entire make-up
was colorless rather than interesting. As the two girls passed each
other on the veranda, the tall girl cast a sharp glance at Marjorie. A
close observer would have characterized it as distinctly unfriendly.
Marjorie was not even aware of it. Her mind was not on the stranger.
"Is Doctor Matthews at home?" she courteously inquired of the maid who
answered her ring.
"Yes, Miss. Who shall I say wishes to see him. Have you an appointment
with him?"
"No. I have a letter for him from Miss Humphrey, the registrar. She has
requested me to deliver it personally."
"Please come in. I will tell the doctor." The maid disappeared into a
room at the right of the colonial hall. Quickly returning, she said: "In
there, Miss." She pointed to the door which she had left partially open.
The president was seated at a flat-topped mahogany desk. He rose as
Marjorie entered and came forward to meet her.
"Good afternoon," he greeted, in the deep, pleasant voice which made his
addresses a delight to the ear. "Norah tells me you have a note for me
from Miss Humphrey."
"Good afternoon," Marjorie returned. "Here is the note. Miss Humphrey
said there would be no answer." She half turned as though to depart.
"Just a moment." The doctor was regarding her with keen but friendly
eyes. "You are not of the clerical force at Hamilton Hall. Let me think.
You are a sophomore, are you not?" He asked the question triumphantly,
smiling as he spoke.
"Yes; I am a sophomore." Marjorie's brown eyes held polite amazement.
"I am very proud of my memory for faces," Doctor Matthews continued. "I
rarely forget a face, though I do not always remember names. You were
one of the freshman ushers at Commencement last June. Now you have come
into sophomore estate. How do you like it?"
"Better than being a freshman." It was Marjorie's turn to smile. "I am
so much better acquainted with Hamilton College now. I am sure there
isn't another college in the world half so fine." She blossomed into
involuntary enthusiasm. "Mr. Brooke Hamilton must have been a wonderful
man. He planned everything here so nobly."
"He was, indeed, a man of noble character and true spirituality. I would
rather be president of Hamilton College than any other college I have
ever visited or been connected with. I revere the memory of Brooke
Hamilton. It is unfortunate we know so little of him. His great-niece,
Miss Susanna Hamilton, lives at Hamilton Arms. She is the last of the
Hamilton family. Unfortunately for the college, she became incensed at
the churlish behavior toward her of a member of the Board whose estate
adjoined hers. This was many years ago. She had been on the verge of
turning over to the college a great deal of interesting data regarding
Brooke Hamilton which was private family history. Doctor Burns, then
president of Hamilton, was to write the biography of the lovable founder
of our college. After the falling-out with the Board member she refused
to give up the data. Since then she has ignored the college. Brooke
Hamilton's biography yet remains to be written."
"A case of the innocent having to suffer with the guilty," Marjorie
said, her eyes very bright. She was privately exultant to have learned
this bit of news of the Hamiltons. She had heard that the last of the
Hamiltons, a woman, lived at Hamilton Arms. Leila had told her a little
concerning the present owner of the Hamilton estate.
After a few further remarks on the subject of Hamilton College, she
gracefully took her leave. As she stepped from the hall to the veranda,
she encountered the same young woman she had met on her way into the
house. This time the girl was seated in one of the porch rockers. Her
eyes, as they fixed themselves on Marjorie, looked more unfriendly than
ever. Marjorie caught the hostile import of this second prolonged stare.
"What a hateful face that girl had," she thought, as she continued down
the walk. "I don't recall ever having seen _her_ before. I'd certainly
have remembered that face. Perhaps she's a relative of Doctor Matthews.
She seems to be quite at home."
Returned to Wayland Hall, Marjorie's first act was to go to Lucy's room
to give her Miss Humphrey's message. This time she found Lucy in but
alone.
"Where's Ronny?" she inquired, after she had explained to Lucy the
registrar's present difficulty, "I haven't seen her except at meals for
two days."
"She's out with Leila and Vera waiting for the election returns. They
are anxious to find out if Phil won."
"Hope she did," was Marjorie's fervent wish. "You can never guess in a
thousand years to whom I was talking this afternoon."
"I'm a poor guesser. You'd better tell me," Lucy said in her concise
fashion.
"All right, I will. It was President Matthews." Lucy's greenish eyes
turning themselves on her in astonishment, Marjorie laughed, then went
on to relate the circumstances.
Lucy listened with the profound interest of a wise young owl. "What do
you think of him?" she asked reflectively, when Marjorie had finished.
"Does he seem the kind of man that would do a person an injustice? I'm
thinking of Miss Remson now."
"I thought of her, too, while I was in his office," Marjorie responded.
"No; he doesn't appear to be anything but broad-minded and just. Still,
we mustn't forget that his name was signed to that letter."
"Did you see his secretary?" Lucy quizzed. "She is over at his house some
of the time. He is usually at Hamilton Hall until one o'clock in the
afternoon, then he goes home. I understand he transacts a good deal of
college business at his home office."
"I didn't see anyone but the maid who answered the door and the
president. Oh, I'll take that back. I saw a girl coming out of the house
as I was going up the steps. When I came out I saw her again. She was
sitting on the veranda. She had such a disagreeable expression. I
noticed it particularly the second time I saw her."
"Describe her," Lucy tersely commanded.
Marjorie complied, giving a fairly good description of the stranger.
"That girl----" Lucy paused impressively, "is the president's
secretary."
"Really?" Marjorie's brown eyes opened to their widest extent.
"Yes; really. I told Miss Remson the morning we were in her office that
I intended to find out all I could about Doctor Matthews' secretary. I
have not found out anything much about her except that she is not a
student. But I have seen her. Kathie knows her by sight. She pointed her
out to me one afternoon. We passed her on the campus. She was going
toward Doctor Matthews' house. I did not like her looks. I feel that she
was at the bottom of Miss Remson's trouble and it would not surprise me
to learn that she is in with the Sans. Unfortunately I have no way of
proving it. I believe it, just the same."
"There was something queer about that whole affair," Marjorie agreed.
"You remember Helen said that, if the Sans were insolent and
supercilious when they came back to the Hall, it would mean they had had
information beforehand and were sure of their ground. Well, they were
very much like that. They acted as though they owned the Hall.
"I noticed that, for I watched them particularly. I think Miss Sayres,
that's the secretary's name, is the one who helped them. I hope some day
to be able to prove it."