SNOWDRIFTS
This year a secret ambition of Janet's was fulfilled. She was chosen
president of her class, and the honor influenced her more than she
realized. While she had never been a "grind," she had kept up a fairly
good record, which had improved from year to year as she grew more
seriously interested in her work and as her character developed. As
she, with Cordelia, Lee, and Teddy had been the leaders in fun-making
during their freshman year, now Janet aspired to be leader in more
solid things, and she turned zealously to her work. Cordelia followed
her, a close second, Lee advanced uncertainly, while Teddy plodded
along showing never as brilliant work as Lee's at her best, nor as weak
as Lallie Patton's. Charity worked industriously, but as Lee said, her
results were wooden. They lacked fire and originality while Lee's were
sometimes startling in the latter quality.
As the cool days came on, there were many of the girls who were glad
to seek the cozy rooms occupied by Janet and Teddy, and scarcely a
day passed but some one appeared, glad to sit before the open fire
to discuss college matters or problems of life, or to engage in
nonsensical talk. There were evenings, too, when bubbling messes
seethed over the coals and sent up an agreeable odor. Sometimes it was
panuche or fudge, again the plainer molasses candy, while on occasions
there would be a grand feast, when oysters were roasted, chops broiled,
or chickens cooked by suspending them by a string in front of the fire.
Several times frat meetings were held in the rooms, and so fascinating
did Teddy and Janet make their accounts of these, that finally Cordelia
and Lee who had held out through the mid-year's at last entered the
fraternity, and added to the jollity of the meetings.
It was one evening when the days were at their shortest, that there
came a tap at the door of the room where Janet sat luxuriously toasting
her feet before the blaze. She wore a crimson dressing-gown, and a
pair of red Turkish slippers. Her little head with its crown of dark
hair showed effectively against the olive green cushions of her Morris
chair. She was so entirely comfortable and content that she hesitated
to reply to the rap, feeling that any interruption of her quiet would
be unwelcome.
At a second tap, however, she gave a reluctant: "Come in," and the door
opened.
A little figure stood there for a moment and then darted forward,
crying: "Janet, Janet, I'm so glad to find you at home and alone."
"Polly! Why Polly!" Janet held out both hands, and the two rushed to
meet each other. "Come right over here by the fire," said Janet. "Take
off your things. Sit down here and get warm. You're going to stay and
we'll have tea. When did you get here, Polly?"
"Just now. At least, we got in the day before yesterday, but only
reached here this morning, and as soon as I could get away, I said I
must come over here."
"Got away from whom? Miss Thurston? Are you staying with her?"
"No, I am staying at the Austins'. I left Miss Thurston over in Germany
and came back with Minnie and Marion Austin and their aunt, Mrs.
Fletcher, and I am making Minnie Austin a visit. Marian is there, too.
She wants dreadfully to see you, but I wanted you all to myself this
first time." She took Janet's hand and laid her cheek against it.
"You dear child, it is good to see you," said Janet tenderly. "Tell me
all about everything. How in the world did you happen to come back with
the Austin girls?"
"We met them in Italy a few weeks before we came away. You know Miss
Thurston knows them and we were all together until Miss Thurston left
us for Germany. Miss Thurston and Mrs. Fletcher were good comrades, so
I was thrown with the girls and we became excellent friends."
"Did they know—"
"About Van?" Polly blushed prettily. "No, not at first, but after
awhile they did. Once, when Minnie was ill, and I was alone with her a
good deal of the time, we became very confidential, and Janet, she was
lovely about it. She has smoothed away all the difficulties and has
been the dearest thing you ever saw."
Janet sat down on the arm of the chair and laid her arm across Polly's
shoulders. "I know just what a dear little nurse you made," she said.
"I can imagine your soothing ways when one is ill, and I'll venture to
say you gave up all sorts of excursions and sight-seeings for the sake
of keeping Miss Austin company at some stupid hotel while the others
went off skylarking. Of course she recognized your unselfish spirit.
I know just as well how it happened as if I had been there, Polly
Perkins."
Polly looked down and shook her head protestingly. "You always
overrate me, Janet. It was something like that, but really it wasn't
any sacrifice for I was tired and was getting mental indigestion
from seeing so much, so I was glad of a few days' rest from picture
galleries and historical wonders."
"Oh, of course. Well, then having won Minnie, what did the others do?"
"Oh, they were all right. Marian knew I was a great friend of yours,
and she was ready to make friends in the beginning. Mrs. Fletcher was
lovely because I was traveling with Miss Thurston whom she admires very
much, so we settled it all comfortably, and when at the last minute
Miss Thurston decided to go to Germany, Mrs. Fletcher was ready to take
me under her wing and we all came home together. Before we had started,
Minnie asked me to make her a visit and when we landed, there was a
note from Mrs. Austin telling her to be sure to bring me home with her,
so I accepted and am going to stay till after Christmas."
"So you had a fine trip?"
"It was beyond anything I ever dreamed of. Miss Thurston knew so well
how to manage that, instead of staying only six months as I at first
intended, I was able to stay eight, and I had a little surplus, enough
to buy some new gowns and things. See my Paris hat, Janet, and my
English tailor gown. Am I not a howling swell?"
"You surely are. What a discovery that rich uncle was. I never was so
glad of anything in all my life. Is he still in the east?"
"No, he has gone back, but he told me not to worry about my wedding
clothes, that he would see that I had a proper outfit, and will you
believe it? He sent me an extra hundred dollars to spend on such things
as I might need. Minnie was perfectly dear in helping me to choose
wisely, and Miss Thurston was always finding out queer little shops
where one could get beautiful things for a mere song. So, though I took
scarcely anything away, I have come back with quite a wardrobe. It was
the most fascinating time I ever had in all my life, yet I am glad to
get back."
"Of course you are, and the reason is not very far-away," said Janet.
"One of the reasons is right here," returned Polly patting Janet's arm.
"Now tell me all about everything and everybody. I suppose there are
scores of new girls."
"Yes, the freshmen pervade all space, I sometimes think. Of course Fay
and Juliet are not here, but Cordelia and Lee have the rooms just over
these, and very few of our class have dropped out. We all have our
noses to the grindstone and are working away like good fellows, being
overpowered by the fact that this is our senior year."
"And you are president of the class. I'm so glad."
"Who told you that valuable piece of news?"
"I met Louise Baker on the way here, and she gave me several bits of
news."
"Poor Louise, she is not having an easy time this year. She misses her
brother's helping hand. I am glad she has almost finished her course."
Polly looked grave. "I wonder if there is anything I could do for her.
I remember how you and she helped me out last year. What changes there
have been for me, Janet, since the time I came here from Abington, a
green little freshman, so ignorant of the world, and so shabby and
scared."
"And so dear and lovable," added Janet. "You are neither ignorant,
shabby nor scared now, are you, Polly?"
"No indeed; I have escaped from my chrysalis, but Janet, dear, I hope I
haven't become vain and selfish and disappointing. I want to keep your
love. So many times I have thought of what you said: 'Character first;
that is lasting; the other is superficial.' I wouldn't disappoint you
for the world, Janet. Please pull me back with a firm hand if you think
I am taking the wrong path. You once said that prosperity spoils more
persons than it helps. Don't let it spoil me."
"I don't think the amount of prosperity that has come to you is in any
danger of spoiling you," said Janet indulgently. "I'll tell you when I
see you in danger."
"If I could always have you near me," sighed Polly, her hand creeping
into Janet's. "I can't realize that your place is not always to be
here, and after this year, the college will know you no more. I wish
you were only a freshman instead of a senior."
"I don't," replied Janet. "I shall be sorry enough when my college days
are over, yet I do not like the idea of repeating them."
"You will come and make me long visits, won't you?"
"Oh, yes, of course," said Janet, lightly. "Now tell me what your plans
are. Where shall you go when you leave the Austins'?"
"I shall go back to Abington and stay with my stepmother. I can be of
some use there. I think I shall be married early in the fall. Then, oh,
then, Janet, we shall have a dear little home of our own. I don't want
to live in a boarding house; I want to make a home. Do you think I am
too young to marry?"
"You are younger than I shall ever be," said Janet, smiling, "but in
your case, Polly, I think it is a wise step. I believe in a woman's
gaining all the knowledge that she can if she has the opportunity, but
if the knowledge must come through such struggle and privation as you
endured last year, I think it is much better to know a little less and
be happier. Homemaking is the end to which all good women are best
fitted, and it is the best of ambitions. That is my opinion from my
long experience. I speak as a senior, my dear, not as I shall probably
speak next year, when I have discovered that I don't know anything and
that nobody listens to my opinions. I shall want a good long visit from
you this summer, and we'll talk it all out. Don't go yet. Ted will be
in directly, and we will have some tea. I always wait for her because
she delights to make it. Can't you stay?"
"I'm afraid not. I promised to be back by five o'clock; and you
know Mr. Austin's ideas upon the subject of punctuality. If I am
three-fifths of a minute late, I shall never hear the last of it. Come
and see me soon, Janet. I want you to meet Minnie."
Janet promised, and let her go, feeling that though in most ways she
was the same old Polly, she had stepped into a world which was not
familiar to her, and that the shabby, shy little freshman would soon
blossom into a beautiful, self-possessed woman.
"But she will always keep her dear, loyal, true heart," murmured Janet.
She saw Polly less often than she expected. Their interests were no
longer the same. The Austins absorbed their guest and, with Minnie
and Marian, Polly was constantly flying hither and thither. Van had
insisted upon announcing the engagement, so, many attentions were
showered upon his lovely fiancée.
Janet who found her little world in the college, seldom met her friend
outside. Becky gave a luncheon to which Janet was invited. The Austins
gave a tea where Polly, radiant in a soft pink gown, was one of the
receiving party, but these occasions were not satisfactory and except
for occasional flying visits, the two seldom had an opportunity of
meeting.
However, there were many things outside of hard work to occupy Janet.
Proms and dances, dramatics and banquets given by the different classes
Janet felt that she must attend in her capacity as president of her
class. She enjoyed them, too, and had no desire to hunt up excuses for
staying away.
"I shall never have another chance of taking them all in, or of being
one of the favored circle," she said to Teddy one evening, "so I shall
go whenever it is possible."
"Then this cold night doesn't stagger you?"
"No, not a bit. I can get a carriage to take me there, if I can't get
there in any other way."
"Extravagance!"
"That depends upon how you look at it. If I walk, I should probably
take cold, and a carriage will cost less than a doctor. Aren't you
going, Ted? I'll give you a seat in my carriage."
"I'll take this red nose and this cold to no dance," said Teddy. "I
shall hug the fire and shall not envy you one bit. Why don't you get
Cordelia or Lee to go with you?"
"They thought we were to go together, and they have some crazy scheme
of their own. They are going up to Stella Urber's with a lot of the
other girls and all will start from there."
"Why didn't you go?"
"Wasn't asked. Think of the solitary grandeur in which I shall pursue
my way. I hope some one will be on hand to be properly impressed when I
arrive in state."
She went to her room and began to lay out the paraphernalia necessary
for the occasion.
"Are you going to wear that?" asked Teddy as Janet took out a pale
green evening gown from her trunk.
"Yes, might as well get the good of it. I find that if one doesn't
use things when there is a chance, Fate decrees that they shall never
be worn. I'll go down and telephone for a carriage before I begin to
dress, then I can't change my mind."
An hour later, a very lovely Janet stood waiting for the cloak Teddy
held ready to throw around her.
"I never saw you look better," said that individual. "That green is
extremely becoming and brings out all your flesh tints and makes your
hair look so dark and glossy. You are quite a stunning-looking girl,
Janet, at your best."
"Thanks. And at my worst?"
"I'll not spoil my compliment by any supplement," laughed Teddy.
Janet gathered up her billowy skirts and ran down-stairs leaving her
chum to the enjoyment of a quiet evening.
Snow had lately fallen and lay piled up in drifts along the streets
and roads. Janet, leaning back in the somewhat cumbersome carriage
which had been sent for her, congratulated herself that she was not
compelled to march through the soft white heaps. She noticed that the
mild weather succeeding the storm, would cause what was snow then to be
slush to-morrow, and that even now the drifts were less compact than
they had been.
The dance was given by Florence Worthington, one of the fraternity
girls, and an alumna, and promised to be a very pleasant affair. Miss
Worthington lived on the outskirts of the town in a fine old mansion
which afforded abundant room for such an entertainment.
As the lights grew fewer along the way, Janet realized that she was
approaching her destination, but when the twinkling gleams from the
Worthington house were still some distance ahead came a sudden dip and
a lurch of the carriage and the horses stopped short.
Presently the driver came to the door and opened it. "Sorry, lady, but
we've broke down. I ain't very well acquainted with this road at night,
and there's a big hole just here that I didn't bargain for."
"What are you going to do?" asked Janet in consternation.
"I guess I'll have to leave the carriage here and take the horses back
to town. It's a bed break and it'll have to go to the shop."
"Gracious!" exclaimed Janet. "Have I got to stay here all alone till
you get back?"
"I guess if you set in the carriage, there won't nobody bother you,"
said the man. "I won't be no longer than I can help, but I can't get
back under an hour."
"Dear me, and I am late as it is," said Janet. A pretty situation for a
lone damsel to be left in, she thought. "Why didn't you go around the
other way?" she asked.
"You said you was late, and I thought I'd take this short cut. I've
done it a good many times in the daytime, but at night and the snow and
all makes considerable difference."
Janet considered the state of affairs for some moments, but presently
her mental review was interrupted by some one's shouting: "What's the
matter there?"
Janet poked her head out of the carriage door and saw a man muffled up
in an overcoat, striding toward them. He stood talking to the driver
who had gone a few steps to meet him.
Janet drew in her head as the traveler came up to the carriage and
said: "I beg your pardon, madam, but you seem to be in a predicament.
If you will accept my escort to Mr. Worthington's, I shall be happy to
walk there with you. I am on my way to the dance."
"Oh, Mr. Evans," cried the relieved girl, "what a godsend you are."
"Miss Janet," exclaimed the young man. "I certainly am glad I happened
to come along at this moment. Are you wearing thin shoes? Ought you to
walk in this snow?"
"Of course I'll walk," said Janet, as, gathering up her robes about
her, she stepped out.
"The walking is pretty bad," Mr. Evans told her. "I came this way
because it is shorter, but if I had known how it was under foot, I
would have gone around. Perhaps you would better permit me to stay here
with you till another carriage can be sent out."
"Oh no, that will take too long. With the house just in sight we
surely should be able to walk. I may get my feet wet but I can change
my shoes. Florence will lend me a pair, and even if I am deprived of
the dancing, I can have a good time. How lucky that you happened to be
going. I didn't know you knew the Worthingtons. You needn't come back,
driver. We will walk."
She started off with Mr. Evans, leaving the broken-down vehicle by
the wayside. The way was surely not a pleasant one, for the soft snow
penetrated her thin shoes, and as they plunged along, Janet felt her
ankles getting wetter and wetter. Her petticoats she held high and it
was not muddy if it was wet.
"You always appear in the guise of a ministering angel, Mr. Evans,"
said the girl. "I shall never forget our first encounter; it was not
unlike this predicament. Have you Rosalie's quarter still?"
"Yes, it is my good luck piece. There was snow then, I remember. I have
always associated you with snowflakes."
"And snowdrops?" asked Janet.
He laughed a little confusedly. "Well yes, I must acknowledge it."
"Then I have you to thank for those that came to me last spring at the
dramatics. All this time I have wondered who could have sent them and
never once suspected. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because you never asked me."
Janet gave a mirthful little laugh at this confession. "It is well that
this is my last year at college," she said, "or I don't know into what
difficulties I might lead you."
"I don't think it is at all well," said Mr. Evans.
"Why?"
"Because it isn't my last. I am likely to become a full professor, Miss
Janet. It is doubtful if Professor Gaines's health will permit him to
return and in case he resigns, I am informed that the chair will be
mine."
"Good! I am delighted." Janet spoke heartily. "Dear me, I half envy you
the prospect of living for the rest of your life in this old place."
"It is rather a concentrative life, broadening in some respects; very
narrow in others. One finds his world in the college and its interests
must be his."
"Yes, I know that, but they are such pleasant interests, I think. I
believe I am becoming more and more fond of the intellectual life; too
fond, I expect my mother will think, when I get home. Ours is a happy,
pleasure-loving community. We live near enough to our small town to
be included in all its festivities, and as papa is a physician, he is
known far and wide, so we are always expected to keep open house and to
entertain anybody who comes along. Since old Dr. Farley's death, papa's
practice is mainly in the town and he contemplates removing his office
there, but I hope we shall not have to go, though I don't see how it
can be prevented."
"You would not care to leave your neighborhood then? You do not love
your alma mater well enough to prefer her environment?"
"I'm not likely to be permitted to have a preference, for home is many
miles away. Of course I love my alma mater, and if I should choose some
other spot than our dear old Warwick, I'd take this very place."
"That is encouraging."
"In what way?"
"I'll tell you on Commencement day, not before. Will you save me half
an hour then? I hope to know my fate by that time, and shall need
either your congratulations or your condolences."
"I'll save you the half hour, if I am allowed. The world and his
grandmother will be on hand to see me graduated and I don't know
whether I shall be given a chance to take a long breath, but if I am
permitted a moment's pause, I will notify you. I might issue a bulletin
every hour so you could see how matters are going with me. It might run
something like this: Eight to nine, breakfasts with family; nine to
ten, receives calls from classmates; ten to twelve, packs; twelve to
one, weeps; one to two, lunches; two to five, listens to orations and
receives diploma; five to Six, receives congratulations, shakes hands
and kisses some twenty-five girls; six to eight, dines with alumna;
eight to eight-thirty, breathing-spell."
"I'm glad you allowed for the breathing-spell. I'll look out for the
bulletin," said Mr. Evans; "you might pin it on the tree just in front
of your house and I'll go look at it every hour."
"And in case the breathing-spell period is taken up, you can select
some one beside the president of the seniors to offer you condolences
or congratulations as the case may be. Of course you will be
disappointed if the president should be so occupied that she cannot
give you even five minutes, but allow me to tell you here in the
seclusion of the Worthingtons' driveway; there are others much, much
more sympathetic."
"Then if you cannot offer me your sympathies will you provide a
substitute?"
"Willingly. Here we are, and alas for my pretty slippers; they feel
like sponges and exude sloppiness at every step."
"You will take cold."
"No, I shall not. I shall use my mind, as Charity says."
The door was opened to them and Janet with her water-soaked shoes flew
up-stairs, and sent for Florence who insisted upon giving her quinine,
provided her with dry stockings and a pair of her slippers, which,
though less fine than her own, allowed her to join the dancers and to
enjoy herself as thoroughly as if there had been no snowdrifts along
the road.