WHAT EVELYN HEARD ON THE CAMPUS
"Ha! Whom have we here?" declaimed Emma Dean, pointing dramatically, as
Grace opened the door and stepped into their room. One look at Grace's
sensitive face was sufficient. Emma had lived close to her friend too
long not to know the signs of dejection in the features that usually
shone with hope and cheerfulness. "Advance and show your countersign,"
she commanded.
"I haven't any," returned Grace soberly.
"Spoken like a brigadier general who doesn't need one," retorted Emma.
"You are just in time to hear my terrible tale.
"Oh, a terrible tale I have to tell
Of the terrible fate that once befell
A teacher of English who once resided
In the same recitation room that I did,"
she rendered tunefully.
The shadow disappeared like magic from Grace's face. "Now what have you
done, you funny girl?" she asked, her sad face breaking into smiles.
Emma was irresistible.
"It is not what I have _done_, but what I _might_ have done. What was it
Whittier said in 'Maud Muller'?"
"There's really no one under the sun
Can blame you for what you might have done,"
paraphrased Emma briskly.
Grace giggled outright. "Poor Whittier," she sympathized.
"Don't pity him," objected Emma. "Pity me for what nearly happened to
me. The illustrious name of Dean came within a little of traveling about
Overton attached to a funny story, which I will now relate for your sole
edification. You remember that pile of themes I brought home on
Tuesday?"
Grace nodded.
"Well, I finished them last night and wrapped them up ready to take back
to the classroom to-day. They made a good-sized bundle, because I had
collected them from all my classes. This morning I was in a hurry, so I
picked up my bundle and ran. I always like to be in my classroom in good
season. But fate was against me, for I met Miss Dutton, that new
assistant in Greek, and she stopped me to ask me numerous questions, as
she is fain to do unless one sees her first, and from afar off enough
to suddenly change one's course and miss her. Consequently I marched
into my room to find my class assembled. I assumed a dignity which I
didn't feel, for I hate being late, and laid my bundle of themes on my
desk. Every eye was fixed reprovingly upon me. I had said so much
against straggling into class late, yet here I had committed that very
crime. I untied my bundle and was just going to open it when that
black-eyed Miss Atherton asked me a question. I answered the question,
my eyes on her, my fingers folding back the paper. I reached for my
themes and my hand closed over cloth instead of paper. A positive chill
went up and down my spine. I gave one horrified glance at the supposed
theme and poked it out of sight in a hurry. Another second and I would
have offered some one my white linen skirt in full view of my class.
Instead of themes I had brought my clean laundry to English IV."
"Oh, Emma!" gasped Grace mirthfully.
"You're not a bit sympathetic," declared Emma with pretended severity.
How Elfreda would love that tale. She would revel in the vision of Emma
Dean solemnly proffering her linen skirt to an unsuspecting class. "I
declare, Emma, you have driven away the blues."
"Have I?" inquired Emma with guileful innocence. It was precisely what
she had intended to do. "What is troubling you, Gracious?"
"I can't endure the thought of losing Miss Wilder. I went to see her
this morning and met Miss Wharton. I----"
"Don't like her," finished Emma calmly.
"No, I don't," returned Grace, with sudden vigor, "but how did you know
it?"
"Because I don't like her, either. I was introduced to her yesterday
afternoon in Miss Wilder's office. I didn't tell you, because I wished
you to form your own impression of her, first hand."
"She was positively rude to me, Emma. She made me feel like a little
girl. She said I looked more like a student than a person in charge of a
campus house."
"I agree with her," was Emma's bland reply. "You might easily be taken
for a freshman."
"But she didn't mean it in the nice way that you do," said Grace. "I
hope she never comes to inspect Harlowe House. She will be sure to find
fault."
"She'll have to make a sharp search," predicted Emma. "We won't worry
about it until she comes, will we? Now, what else is on your mind?"
"The Riddle," admitted Grace. She related what she had heard from
Kathleen regarding the sale.
"H-m-m!" was Emma's dry response. "They took good care that I shouldn't
hear of it."
"I'm so sorry Evelyn lent herself to something she knew would displease
me," mourned Grace.
"Perhaps she didn't. I know for a certainty that she wasn't in the house
Saturday afternoon, for I met her on the campus and she told me that she
was going to take luncheon and spend the afternoon with Althea Parker."
"She must have _known_ about it."
"I am afraid the news of this sale will travel rapidly," prophesied
Emma. "Not only will Miss Brent be talked over, but you also will be
criticized. You know I advised you, not long ago, to insist that Miss
Brent make a full explanation of things. Take my advice and see her at
once."
"I will," decided Grace. "I'll have a talk with her after dinner
to-night."
Grace was not the only one, however, to whom the news of the sale came
as a shock. Strangely enough Evelyn learned of it during the afternoon
of the same day in which it had come to Grace's ears. Her attention had
been attracted to a smart black and white check coat which Edna
Correll, a very plain freshman who tried to make up in extreme dressing
what she lacked in beauty, was wearing. In crossing the campus on her
way to Harlowe House she had encountered Edna in company with another
freshman. For an instant she had wondered why the sight of the black and
white coat which Edna wore seemed so strangely familiar. Then it had
dawned upon her that it was identical with a coat belonging to Jean.
"How do you like my new coat?" had been Edna's salutation, and Evelyn
had replied. "It's wonderfully smart. Miss Brent has one very much like
it."
"She had one, you mean," Edna had corrected. "Why, weren't you at the
sale last Saturday! I suppose you selected what you wanted beforehand.
That is where you had the advantage."
"What sale?" Evelyn had asked, completely mystified. Then explanations
had followed. White with suppressed anger, Evelyn had bade Edna a hasty
good-bye and sped across the campus toward Harlowe House. Without a word
she brushed by the maid who answered the bell, and rushed upstairs as
fast as she could run. The temper which she had tried so hard to control
was now at a high pitch. How dared Jean deliberately place her in such
an unpleasant position when she was trying so hard to be worthy of Miss
Harlowe's confidence? She flung open the door of her room. Then her eyes
sought and found Jean standing before the wardrobe, her back to the
door, a pair of black satin slippers in her hand.
"How could you do it?" burst forth Evelyn. "You know Miss Harlowe
forbade it. Now she will think that I knew all about it. Just when I am
trying to merit her confidence."
Jean Brent whirled about. Her blue eyes flashed. One of the slippers she
held in her hand swished through the air and landed with a thud against
the opposite wall. The wave of anger with which she faced Evelyn was
like the sudden sweep of a gale of wind out of a clear sky. The other
slipper followed the first one. Then the doors of the wardrobe were
slammed shut with a force that caused it to shake. To Evelyn it was as
though a strong current of air had blown upon her. Here, indeed was a
temper that outranked her own.
"What right have you to speak to me in such a tone?" raged Jean. "You
have nothing to say as to what I shall or shall not do. I won't pretend
I don't know what you mean. I do know. I don't in the least care what
you think about it, either. My clothes are mine to do with just whatever
I please. If Miss Harlowe imagines I am going to be a servant to half
the girls at Overton for the sake of earning my fees she is mistaken.
Why should she or any one else object to my selling my things, if I
like? I don't see how you found it out. The girls promised to keep the
whole affair to themselves. I don't understand why you should be so
concerned, or what it has to do with Miss Harlowe's opinion of you. From
what you say I might almost assume that there had been a time when _you_
were not to be trusted."
Evelyn's beautiful face was crimson with anger and humiliation. She
longed to answer Jean's arraignment with a flood of words as bitter as
her own, but her determined effort of months to rule her spirit now bore
fruit.
"I'm sorry I spoke so abruptly," she said coldly. "I just heard about
the sale from Miss Correll. You were quite right in what you said. There
was a time when I could not be trusted. My trouble was about clothes,
too. Miss Harlowe helped me find my self-respect again, and this year I
am trying very hard to be an Overton girl in the truest sense of the
word. I am telling you this in confidence because I wish you to
understand why Miss Harlowe's good opinion is so dear to me."
"You can go and tell her that you knew nothing about the sale," muttered
Jean sullenly. Something in Evelyn's frank confession had made her feel
a trifle ashamed of herself.
Evelyn's violet eyes grew scornful. "How can you suggest such a thing?"
she asked.
It was Jean's turn to blush. "Forgive me," she said penitently. "I know
you aren't a tell-tale. If she asks me about the sale, be sure I'll
exonerate you."
Evelyn shook her head. "I wish you'd go to her, Jean, and tell her what
you have done. Sooner or later she is sure to find it out."
But Jean Brent was in no mood for this advice. It caused her anger to
blaze afresh. "There you go again," she blustered, "with your
goody-goody advice to me about running to Miss Harlowe with every little
thing I do. I hope I'm not such a baby. If Miss Harlowe sends for me,
don't think for a minute that I'll be afraid to face her, but until she
_does_ send for me I am not going to concern myself about it, and I
would advise you not to trouble yourself, either."
With this succinct advice Jean made a fresh onslaught on the unoffending
wardrobe. Opening it she seized her hat and coat. With a last
reverberating slam of its long-suffering doors she turned her back on it
and Evelyn, and switched defiantly out of the room and on out of the
house.