AT HAMILTON HALL
While Marjorie’s chums were buoyantly preparing a surprise tea for her
she was seated beside Miss Susanna Hamilton in President Matthews’
office at Hamilton Hall. An expression of quiet happiness radiated from
her lovely face as she listened to the heart-cheering words she had
never expected to hear from the embittered grand-niece of Brooke
Hamilton: “I have decided to give the world my great uncle’s biography.”
It had all happened so quickly, she was thinking. She was glad Miss
Susanna had allowed her to tell her closest friends the good news.
Though it had been near to ten o’clock she had gathered them into Room
15, and enthusiastically imparted it to them. Jerry had heard it with
Marjorie’s first exclamatory utterance as she entered their room. It yet
remained to tell Kathie and Lillian the next morning.
While she made an early morning call on them, the following morning, her
intimates gleefully arranged a tea for her. Into the midst of the
preparations came a surprise for Jerry, who was heading the tea
celebration. The welcome surprise was hastily bundled out of sight
before Jerry had a suspicion of it. Such lecture periods as claimed the
post graduates were, for once, to be ignored. Even Kathie had arranged
with an obliging member of the faculty to take her last class for the
afternoon.
Marjorie, sitting demurely beside Miss Susanna in the president’s
office, a lovely symphony in warm brown velvet and furs, was wishing her
intimates could be with her on the great occasion. They had overflowed
with high spirits over this latest, greatest gift to Hamilton. Small
wonder they were elated. They had fought loyally for true college
spirit.
Regarding herself as Brooke Hamilton’s biographer, Marjorie’s emotions
were jumbled. One moment she was exalted by Miss Hamilton’s steady
assertion that Marjorie Dean was the one best equipped mentally to
present her distinguished kinsman simply and truly to the world. Next
moment a wave of utter panic would follow, sweeping away her
newly-formed confidence in herself. She grew aghast at the bare idea of
presuming to take upon herself so difficult a task. She had never done
any notable theme work in college. How then could she hope to present
the world with a finished biography to which the great man, Brooke
Hamilton, was entitled?
“I am amazed, Miss Hamilton!” President Matthews’ eyes were riveted upon
Miss Susanna’s face in polite bewilderment. They next strayed to
Marjorie. His thought became self-evident. Marjorie turned very pink.
“Yes, Doctor Matthews; you are right,” the old lady said with a fleeting
smile. “I am here this afternoon because of Marjorie. Because of her,
you and I have come to speaking terms. The years were going fast, and I
was not growing less bitter against the college. Then I met this child.
She has led me back to old Hamilton Hall. I’m here at last, but still
selfish. I came here today to please myself, even more than her.” It was
as though Miss Susanna had uttered a grim kind of confession.
“Miss Susanna is not selfish, Doctor Matthews,” Marjorie gently
contradicted. “She’s unselfish, and altogether splendid. She came here
to do honor to Mr. Brooke Hamilton’s memory, and give happiness to us
all. It has not been easy for her to thrust away the barrier of years.
Yet she has done it. She has been heroically unselfish.” Her voice rang
triumphantly. Her fond smile at Miss Susanna brought unbidden tears to
the old lady’s eyes.
“I am happy in agreeing with you, Miss Dean. Miss Susanna has today
demonstrated her complete unselfishness.” The president bowed to Miss
Susanna.
“I forbid you both to make any more personal remarks about me,” broke in
Miss Susanna’s concise utterance. “I have been selfish and unfair to
Uncle Brooke’s memory. It is time I did something to make up for it.”
She wagged her head ruefully. “May I ask, Doctor Matthews, have you ever
heard the story of my disagreement with the Board?”
“I have heard a story which had to do with your being rudely treated, a
number of years ago, by a member of the Board whose estate adjoined
yours. The churlish behavior of this member of the Board was the cause
of your refusal to place in the hands of Dr. Burns, who had been
selected to write Brooke Hamilton’s biography, the data for the
biography,” the doctor stated in pleasant, impersonal tones.
“True enough so far as it goes,” Miss Susanna acknowledged tersely. “The
member of the Board with whom I quarreled was Alec Carden. A greater
scamp never lived. We quarreled over Uncle Brooke’s will. It seems a
long long time ago.” She gave an impatient little sigh.
“It was before I accepted the presidency of Hamilton College. I have
been informed by the two gentlemen, still serving on the Board, who were
members then, that it was a deplorable period for the college during
which the Board engaged in one wrangle after another. They frankly
criticized Mr. Carden as having behaved more like an unscrupulous
politician than as became a dignified member of a college board. I have
never doubted but that your grievance against the Board was sound.” The
doctor sat back in his chair and surveyed the little upright figure in
gray opposite him with one of his encouraging, kindly smiles.
“Thank you, Doctor. The only way in which I may show proper appreciation
of your confidence in me is to tell you the story from beginning to
end.” Miss Susanna sat very still for a moment after her electrifying
announcement. It was as though she were trying to choose her words for a
beginning.
An anticipatory silence hung over the president’s office. Dr. Matthews
awaited the revelation with profound relief. It would mark the laying of
the unwelcome ghost which had walked the campus all these years.
Marjorie found herself filled with an odd kind of astonishment. She was
at last to hear the story which for years Miss Hamilton had stubbornly
locked behind her lips.
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