CHAPTER IX

DISAGREEABLE NEWS

"Hurrah!" cried Miriam Nesbit gleefully, coming into the living room of

Wayne Hall where Grace sat at the old-fashioned library table absorbed

in writing a theme for next day's composition class.

"What's happened?" asked Grace curiously, looking up from her writing.

"We're to go over to Exeter Field to-morrow for a try out in basketball.

I do hope we'll both make the team."

"So do I," agreed Grace promptly. "But there are so many girls that we

may not be even chosen as subs. Besides, our playing may not compare

with that of some of the others."

"Nonsense," returned Miriam stoutly. "Your playing would stand out

anywhere, Grace, even on a boys' team. I consider myself a fair player,

too," she added, flushing a little.

"I should say you are!" exclaimed Grace. "Who told you about the try

out?"

"It's on the bulletin board. I don't see how you missed it."

"I didn't look at the bulletin board this morning. I meant to, then

something else took my attention, and I forgot all about it." The

"something else" had been the extremely frigid manner in which two

freshmen she particularly liked had greeted her as she caught up with

them on the way to her Livy class that morning. Grace wondered not a

little at this cavalier treatment, but could arrive at no satisfactory

conclusion regarding it. She finally tried to dismiss the matter by

ascribing it to over-sensitiveness on her part, but every now and then

it haunted her like an offending spectre.

"I always look at the bulletin board, no matter what happens," declared

Miriam emphatically. "I must hurry upstairs and impart the glorious news

to Elfreda. We had elected to spend Saturday afternoon in moving our

furniture about, hoping to gain a few square inches of room space, but

we'll have to postpone doing it. We can do it the first rainy Saturday.

Hurry along with your paper and come upstairs. I'm going to make tea,

and I've acquired a new kind of cakes. They're chocolate covered and

taste like home and mother."

After Miriam had gone upstairs Grace sat staring at her theme with

unseeing eyes. Disagreeable thoughts would come, and try as she might

she could not drive them away. She had been snubbed and she could not

forget it. Giving herself a little impatient shake she turned her

attention to her theme and went on writing rapidly. Half an hour later

she folded it neatly, placed it inside one of her books, and went slowly

upstairs. She found Miriam, Anne and Elfreda seated on the floor deep in

tea drinking. Before them was a plate piled high with the new kind of

cakes, and a five-pound box of candy that Elfreda had received from New

York that morning.

"Sit down here, Grace," invited Anne, making room for her friend. "Give

her some tea this minute, Miriam. She is a working woman and needs

nourishment. Did you finish your theme, dear?"

Grace nodded. Then taking the cup Miriam offered she dropped two lumps

of sugar in it, and began drinking her tea in silence.

"What's the matter, Grace?" asked Anne anxiously.

"Nothing," replied Grace. "I feel reflective. I suppose that's why I

haven't anything to say. Did Miriam tell you about the basketball try

out on Exeter Field?"

"Yes; but not for mine--I mean--I'm not interested in basketball,"

amended Elfreda, hastily. "I tell you this trying to cut out slang is no

idle dream."

There was a shout of laughter from the three girls.

"Now, see here," bristled the stout girl. "You needn't laugh at me. What

I meant was that--that it is very difficult to refrain from the use of

slang," finished Elfreda with such affected primness that the laughter

broke forth afresh.

"Humph!" she ejaculated disgustedly. "I don't see anything to laugh at.

Goodness knows I'm trying hard to break myself of the habit."

"Of course you are," sympathized Anne. "We aren't laughing at you. It

was the funny way you ended your last sentence."

Elfreda's face relaxed into a good-natured grin. "I am funny sometimes,"

she admitted calmly. "Even Pa, who doesn't smile once a year, says so."

"I must go," said Anne, rising. "I haven't looked at my history lesson,

and it is frightfully long, too."

"I'll go with you," announced Grace. "I must mend my blue serge dress. I

stepped on it while going upstairs this morning and tore it just above

the hem. I had to change it for this, and was almost late for chapel."

"I waited for you in the hall as long as I could," said Anne. "I meant

to ask you what happened, but forgot it. Grace, what do you suppose

Elfreda said before you came upstairs?"

"I can't possibly guess," rejoined Grace. "J. Elfreda's remarks are

varied and startling."

The two girls were now in their own room.

"These are nice ones," averred Anne. "She said that you and Miriam and I

were the first girls she'd ever cared much about. She said that she had

never tried to do anything to please any one but herself until she came

here. Then when you stood up for her, and fixed things so she could go

to the reception, she said she held up her right hand and swore to

herself that she'd try to be worthy of our friendship. That's why she's

trying not to use slang, and to be more generous. She keeps her things

in order, too. You noticed how nice everything looked to-day."

"Miriam, not I, is responsible for the change," said Grace. "She is a

born diplomat. She knows exactly how to proceed with J. Elfreda. I hope

there won't be anything more said about the registrar affair, though. I

want Elfreda to like college better every day."

"Grace," said Anne hesitatingly, "if I tell you something, will you

promise not to worry over it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Grace quickly, a puzzled look in her eyes. "I

can't promise not to worry until I know that there's nothing to worry

over. If you have heard something disagreeable about me, I'm not afraid

to listen."

"I know it," said Anne. Then she went on almost abruptly. "I heard two

freshmen talking about you the other night at the reception. One of them

said that she had been prepared to like you, but had heard something

that had caused her to change her mind." Anne looked distressed.

For a moment Grace sat very still.

"Oh, dear!" lamented Anne. "I'm sorry I told you. Now I've hurt your

feelings."

"Nonsense!" retorted Grace stoutly. "It will take more than that to hurt

my feelings. I am beginning to see a light, however. At the reception

the other night Frances told me that Mabel had heard about my call at

Stuart Hall from a senior who is a friend of a certain sophomore. Now,

that sophomore is either Miss Wicks or Miss Hampton. It looks as though

these two girls were not willing to let bygones be bygones. I haven't

the slightest idea what they may have said about me, but I am sure they

must have circulated some untruthful report among the freshmen. I don't

like to accuse any one of being untruthful, but I am quite sure that I

have done nothing reprehensible. Now that you have told me I'm going to

watch closely. If a number of the girls snub me, I shall know that it is

serious."

"Then you will fight for your rights, won't you?" pleaded Anne. "It

isn't fair that you should be misjudged for trying to help Elfreda."

"I don't know," replied Grace doubtfully. "It might not be worth while.

I have a theory that if one is right with one's conscience nothing else

matters."

Anne shook her head dubiously. "That won't protect you from

unpleasantness unless the girls think so, too. Our freshman year is our

foundation year, and if we allow any one even to think that we are not

putting our best material into it, the shadow is likely to follow us to

the very threshold of graduation. It is easy enough to start a rumor but

once let it gain headway, it is almost impossible to check it. Nearly

all of your sophomore year in high school was spoiled through standing

up for me. That's why I'm so determined to make you look out for your

own interests."

While Anne was earnestly urging Grace to action, Grace was frantically

rummaging in her closet for her blue dress. It was several minutes

before she found it. If the blue dress could have spoken it would have

borne witness to the fact that its owner dashed her hand suspiciously

across her eyes before emerging from the closet with it over her arm.

Grace Harlowe's First Year at Overton College · 第 9 / 24 章