AN UNHEEDED WARNING
The next day found Grace rather at a loss how to proceed in the case of
Elfreda. From what she had overheard it was evident that Alberta Wicks
and Mary Hampton had decided to make Elfreda the victim of some
well-laid plot of their own. What the nature of it was Grace had not the
remotest idea. To approach Elfreda was embarrassing to say the least. To
warn her against the two mischievous sophomores without being able to
state anything more definite than what she had overheard at Wellington
House was infinitely more embarrassing.
"What time had I best try to see her?" Grace asked herself. She had come
from Overton Hall with Anne and Miriam late that afternoon and the three
girls had lingered on the steps of Wayne Hall, reluctant to go indoors.
Spring was getting ready to fulfill all sorts of tender promises she had
made to her children. The buds on the trees were bursting into tiny new
green leaves. The crocuses were in bloom in the yards along College
Street, and the grass on the campus was growing greener every hour. The
roads, too, were obligingly drying, so that adventurous walkers might
visit their favorite haunts in the country surrounding Overton without
running the risk of wading in the mud.
There was Guest House, the famous colonial tea shop that had been built
and used as an inn during the Revolution. In this quaint historic place
ample refreshment was to be found. There one could satisfy one's
appetite with dainty little sandwiches, muffins and jam, tea cakes and
tea, fresh milk or buttermilk.
There was also Hunter's Rock that overhung the river, and whose smooth,
flat surface made an ideal spot for picnickers. It was five miles from
Overton, but extremely popular with all four classes, and from early
spring until late fall, it was occupied on Saturday by various gay gipsy
parties from the college. Then there were canoes for the venturesome,
and staid old rowboats for the cautious, to be hired at a nominal sum,
while girlish figures dotted the golf course and the tennis courts.
Girls strolled about the campus in the early evenings, or gathered in
groups on the steps of the campus houses. It was the time of year when
spring creeps into one's blood, making one forget everything except the
blueness of the sky, the softness of the air and the lure of green
things growing.
"I must go into the house," sighed Miriam Nesbit. "I have that
appalling trigonometry lesson for to-morrow to prepare from beginning to
end. I haven't looked at it yet."
"I peeped at it yesterday," said Anne. "It's the worst one we've had, so
far."
"The end is not yet," reminded Grace.
"Well it will be in sight before long. Our freshman year is almost over,
didn't you know it, children!" queried Miriam laughingly.
"It has seemed long in some respects and short in others," reflected
Grace. "I think--" Grace paused. A tall, rather stout girl came
hurriedly up the walk. She stalked up the steps and into the house
without looking to the right or left. Even in that fleeting moment Grace
noted that she seemed rather excited and that she carried in her hand an
open letter. "I wonder if now would be a good time to tackle her,"
speculated Grace. Then deciding that, after all, there was nothing to be
gained without making a venture, Grace walked resolutely to the door.
"I'll see you later, girls," was her only remark as she passed inside.
Once outside Elfreda's door, Grace did not feel quite so confident.
Summoning all her courage, however, she knocked. An impatient voice
called, "Come in," and Grace accepted the rather ungracious invitation
to enter. J. Elfreda sat facing the window intent upon the letter Grace
had seen in her hand. She turned sharply as the door closed, then
catching sight of Grace, sprang to her feet, her face clouded with
anger. "How dare you come in here?" she stormed.
"You said 'Come in,' Elfreda," returned Grace quietly.
"Yes, but not to you," raged Elfreda. "Never to you. Leave my room
instantly and don't come back again."
"I won't trouble you long," returned Grace. "I came to put you on your
guard against two young women who are about to make mischief for you. I
am very sorry I did not tell you long ago that Miss Wicks and Miss
Hampton were the originators of the anonymous letter which caused you so
much unhappiness. I suspected as much at the time, and accused them of
writing it. They neither affirmed nor denied their part in the affair,
although they admitted that certain members of the sophomore class wrote
the letter. I threatened to take up the matter with the sophomore class
if the two young women persisted in making you unhappy, and this threat
evidently influenced them to drop their crusade against you.
"To a certain extent I feel responsible for what has followed, for if I
had told you this before you would hardly have afterward become
friendly with them. However, I can do this much. From a conversation I
overheard the other day I am convinced that Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton
intend to play a practical joke on you on Friday night. I am afraid that
it will not be of the tame variety either, and may cause you trouble.
These two girls do not like you, Elfreda, and they have not forgiven you
nor never will."
"You are awfully anxious to make me think that no one but you and your
friends ever liked me, aren't you?" sneered Elfreda. "Well, just let me
tell you something. Those girls may have their faults, but they aren't
stingy and selfish, at all events. This letter here is an invitation
to----, well, I shan't tell you what it is, but it's far from being a
practical joke, I can assure you."
Grace looked doubtfully at Elfreda, who stood very erect, her head held
high with offended dignity. Perhaps, after all, she had been too hasty.
Perhaps the two sophomores really intended playing some harmless trick.
Then the words, "We are not going to bother with J. Elfreda much
longer," returned with a force that left Grace no longer in uncertainty.
"Elfreda," she said earnestly, "I wish you would listen to me for once.
Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton are not your friends. If you accept their
invitation for Friday night you will be sorry. Take my advice, and steer
clear of them."
"Please mind your own business and get out of my room," commanded
Elfreda fiercely.
Casting one steady, reproachful look at the angry girl, Grace left the
room in silence. Once outside her own door she clenched her hands and
fought back her rising emotion. Tears of humiliation stood in her gray
eyes, then winking them back bravely, she drew a long breath and opened
her door. Anne, who in the meantime had come upstairs, turned
expectantly. "What luck?" she questioned.
"None," returned Grace shortly. "She ordered me out of her room."
At this juncture Miriam Nesbit joined them. "What's the latest on the
bulletin board?" she inquired, smiling mischievously.
"Don't laugh, Miriam," rebuked Grace. "Things are serious. Elfreda has
some sort of engagement for Friday night with those two girls. She
almost told me what it was, then changed her mind and invited me to mind
my own business and leave her room. I'm going to try to find out
something about Friday night and see that she gets fair play. After that
I shall never trouble myself about her," concluded Grace, her voice
trembling slightly.
"Don't feel so hurt at Elfreda's rudeness, Grace," soothed Miriam. "She
doesn't mean half she says. She'll be sorry some day."
"I wish 'some day' was before Friday," replied Grace mournfully. "I
wonder who else is to take part in this affair?"
"Watch Miss Wicks and Miss Hampton," advised Anne quietly.
"That's sound advice," agreed Grace. "I appoint you and Miriam as secret
service agents. You must unearth the enemy's plans for Friday night."
"What will you do if we should happen to stumble upon them?" asked
Miriam curiously.
"I don't know, yet," said Grace slowly. "It will depend entirely on what
they are. Since we can't prevent Elfreda from going to her fate, we may
be obliged to go along with her. If I were to ask you girls to drop
everything and follow me on Friday night, would you do it?"
Anne and Miriam nodded.
"Then that's settled," was her relieved comment. "I am going to take two
other girls into our confidence. I shall tell Mabel Ashe and Frances
Marlton. They will come to the rescue if I need them. Besides they are
juniors, and if I am not mistaken, upper class support may be very
desirable before we are through with this affair."
"And all this anxiety over J. Elfreda," smiled Miriam. "But to tell you
the truth, girls, I shall be only too glad to fare forth in the cause of
Elfreda. I thought her a terrible cross when she first came, but now I
am positively lonesome without her, and I don't care how soon she comes
back."