AN INTERRUPTED STUDY HOUR
The first two weeks at Overton glided by with amazing swiftness. There
was so much to be done in the way of arranging one's recitations, buying
or renting one's books and accustoming one's self to the routine of
college life that Grace and her friends could scarcely spare the time to
write their home letters. There were twenty-four girls at Wayne Hall.
With the exception of four sophomores the house was given up to
freshmen. Grace thought them all delightful, and in her whole-souled,
generous fashion made capital of their virtues and remained blind to
their shortcomings. There had been a number of jolly gatherings in Mrs.
Elwood's living room, at which quantities of fudge and penuchi were made
and eaten and mere acquaintances became fast friends.
The week following their arrival a dance had been given in the gymnasium
in honor of the freshmen. The whole college had turned out at this
strictly informal affair, and the upper class girls had taken particular
pains to see that the freshmen were provided with partners and had a
good time generally. At this dance the three Oakdale friends had felt
more at home than at any other time since entering Overton. In the first
place, Mabel Ashe, Frances Marlton and Constance King had come over to
Wayne Hall in a body on the evening before the dance and offered
themselves as escorts. Furthermore, the scores of happy, laughing girls
gliding over the gymnasium floor to the music of a three-piece orchestra
reminded Grace of the school dances in her own home town. J. Elfreda had
also been escorted to the hop by Virginia Gaines, one of the sophomores
at Wayne Hall, who had a great respect for the stout girl's money, and
it was a secret relief to Grace that she had not been left out.
Now the dance was a thing of the past, and nothing was in sight in the
way of entertainment except the reception and dance given by the
sophomores to the freshmen. This was a yearly event, and meant more to
the freshmen than almost any other class celebration, for the
sophomores, having thrown off freshman shackles, took a lively hand in
the affairs of the members of the entering class. It was sophomores who
under pretense of sympathetic interest wormed out of unsuspecting
freshmen their inmost secrets and gleefully spread them abroad among the
upper classes. It was also the sophomores who were the most active in
enforcing the standard that erring freshmen were supposed to live up to.
The junior and senior classes as a rule allowed their sophomore sisters
to regulate the conduct of the newcomers at Overton, only stepping in to
interfere in extreme cases.
Grace and her friends had met nearly all the members of the sophomore
class at the freshman dance, but in reality they had very few
acquaintances among them that bade fair to become their friends.
"I don't suppose we'll have the honor of being escorted to the reception
by sophomores," remarked Grace several evenings before the event, as she
and Miriam strolled out of the dining room. "We'll have to go in a crowd
by ourselves and look as though we enjoyed it."
"Why not stay at home?" yawned Miriam. "I'm not as over-awed at the idea
of this affair as I might be."
"No," replied Grace, shaking her head. "It wouldn't do. We ought to go.
The dance is to be given in honor of the freshmen, and it's their duty
to turn out and make it a success. Are you going to study your Livy
to-night, Miriam?"
"If I can," replied Miriam grimly. "It depends on what my talkative
roommate does. If she elects to give me another instalment of the story
of her life before she came here, Livy won't stand much chance. We have
progressed as far as her twelfth year, and I was just on the point of
learning how she survived scarlet fever when the doctor didn't expect
her to live, last night, when she happened to remember that she hadn't
looked at her history lesson and I was mercifully spared further
torture."
"Poor Miriam," laughed Grace. "But you could have said you didn't want
her the day Mrs. Elwood brought her here. What made you decide to let
her stay? I saw by your face something interesting was going on in your
mind."
Miriam looked reflectively at Grace. "I don't know I'm sure just why I
let her stay. It wasn't because I wished to please Mrs. Elwood, though
she is so nice with all of us. I had a curious feeling that I ought to
take J. Elfreda in hand. If it had been you whose room she invaded you
wouldn't have hesitated even for a second. Ever since you and I settled
our differences back in our high school days I've always held you up to
myself as an example. Now, honestly, Grace, you would have taken her in
without a murmur, wouldn't you?"
"Ye-e-s," said Grace slowly, her face flushing. "I would have said she
might stay, I think. But, Miriam, you mustn't hold me up as an example.
I couldn't be more generous and loyal and broadminded than you."
"In the words of J. Elfreda, 'let's change the subject,'" said Miriam
hastily. "Where's Anne?"
"Anne is out visiting the humblest freshman of them all," replied Grace.
"Her name is Ruth Denton. Anne singled her out in English the other day,
scraped acquaintance with her, and found that she has a room in an old
house in the suburbs of the town. She takes care of her own room, boards
herself and does any kind of mending she can get to do from the girls to
help her pay her way through college. Anne only found her last week, but
I have promised to go to see her, too, and I want you to go with me."
They had paused at the door of Miriam's room. Her hand on the door, she
said earnestly, "I'd love to go, Grace. I might know that you and Anne
couldn't rest without championing some one's cause."
"What about you and J. Elfreda?" questioned Grace slyly.
"Oh, that's different," retorted Miriam. Opening the door she glanced
about the room. Her own side was in perfect order, but J. Elfreda's half
looked as though it had been visited by a cyclone. The cover of her
couch bed was pulled askew and the sofa pillows ornamented the floor.
Shoes and stockings were scattered about in wild disorder. Her dressing
table looked as though the contents had been stirred up and deposited in
a heap in the center. From the top drawer of the chiffonier protruded a
hand-embroidered collar, and a long black silk tie hung down the middle
of the piece of furniture, giving it the effect of being draped in
mourning.
Catching sight of this Grace pointed to it, laughing. "It looks as
though she were in mourning, doesn't it?"
"For her sins, yes," replied Miriam grimly. "Isn't this room a mess,
though? I've picked up her things ever so many times, but I'm tired of
it. Come in here to-night, Grace. I want to see how it seems to have my
dearest friend in my room, all to myself."
"All right," laughed Grace. "I'll get my books."
Five minutes later she reappeared and, cosily establishing herself in
the Morris chair that Miriam insisted she should occupy, the girls began
their work. For the time being silence reigned, broken only by the sound
of turning leaves or an occasional question on the part of one or the
other of the two. Finally Miriam closed her book triumphantly. "That's
done," she exulted. "Now for my English."
"I wish I was through with this," sighed Grace, eyeing her Livy with
disfavor. "I never do learn my lessons quickly. I have to study ever so
much harder than you and Anne. Now, if it were basketball, then
everything would be lovely. Still, you're a champion player, too,
Miriam, so you've more than your share of accomplishments. Anne, too,
excites my envy and admiration. She can act and stand first in her
classes, too, while I have to work like mad to keep up in my classes and
am not a star in anything. Perhaps during this year I shall develop some
new talent of which no one suspects me. It won't be for study, that's
sure."
Miriam smiled to herself, but said nothing. She knew that Grace already
possessed a talent for making friends and an ability to see not only her
own way clearly, but to smooth the pathway of those weaker than herself
that was little short of marvelous. She knew, too, that before the end
of the school year Grace's remarkable personality was sure to make
itself felt among her fellow students.
"What are you smiling to yourself about, Miriam?" demanded Grace.
But at this juncture the door was burst violently open and J. Elfreda
Briggs dashed into the room, threw herself face downward on her
disordered bed and gave way to a long, anguished wail.