THE REASON WHY
Primed for the momentous interview, Jane was doomed to disappointment.
The matron's office was empty of its usual occupant.
"Oh, bother!" was her impatient exclamation. "I'll either have to wait
for her or go and find her. I'll go back to the veranda and tell the
girls," she decided. "Then I'll come here again. Mrs. Weatherbee may not
be in the Hall for all I know."
"Back so soon. What did she say?"
Judith sprang eagerly from the wicker chair in which she had been
lounging.
"She is not there," returned Jane with a shadow of a frown. "I'm sorry.
I wanted to see her and get it over with. Where's Ethel?"
"Oh, she forgot that she had an appointment with Miss Howard. She
rushed off in a hurry."
"Mrs. Weatherbee has perhaps gone to make the call," suggested Adrienne.
"Why do you not ring the bell and thus summon the maid?"
"A good idea."
Standing near the door, Jane's fingers found the electric bell and
pressed it.
"Where is Mrs. Weatherbee?" she inquired of the maid who presently came
to answer the door. "Isn't Millie here any more?" she added, noting that
a stranger occupied the place of the good-natured girl who had been at
the Hall during Jane's freshman year.
"No, miss. She's gone and got married. Did you want Mrs. Weatherbee?
She's upstairs. I'll go and find her for you."
"Thank you. If you will be so kind. Please tell her Miss Allen wishes to
see her."
Disturbed in mind, though she was, Jane replied with a graciousness she
never forgot to employ in speaking to those in more humble circumstances
than herself. It was a part of the creed her democratic father had
taught her and she tried to live up to it.
"Wish me luck, girls, I'm going to my fate. Wait for me," she said
lightly and vanished into the house.
"She's taking it like a brick," Judith admiringly commented.
"Ah, yes. Jane is what _mon père_ would call 'the good sport,'" agreed
Adrienne. "She is the strange girl; sometimes fierce like the lion over
the small troubles. When come the great misfortunes she has calm
courage."
Re-entering Mrs. Weatherbee's office, Jane seated herself resignedly to
wait for the appearance of the matron. When fifteen minutes had passed
and she was still waiting, the stock of "calm courage" attributed to her
by Adrienne, began to dwindle into nettled impatience.
She now wished that she had not given her name to the maid. It looked as
if Mrs. Weatherbee were purposely keeping her waiting. This thought
stirred afresh in Jane the old antagonism that the matron had always
aroused.
After half an hour had dragged by Jane heard footsteps descending the
stairs to the accompaniment of the faint rustle of silken skirts. She
sat suddenly very straight in her chair, her mood anything but
lamb-like.
"Good afternoon, Miss Allen," greeted a cool voice.
Mrs. Weatherbee rustled into the little office, injured dignity written
on every feature of her austere face.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weatherbee."
Courtesy to an older woman prompted Jane to rise. Her tone, however, was
one of strained politeness. There was no move made toward handshaking by
either.
"I was greatly surprised to learn that _you_ wished to see me, Miss
Allen," was the matron's first remark after seating herself in the chair
before her writing desk.
Mrs. Weatherbee's intonations were decidedly accusing. Jane colored at
the emphasis placed on the "you."
"Why should you be surprised?" she flashed back, an angry glint in her
gray eyes. Already her good resolutions were poised for flight.
"I am even more surprised at the boldness of your question. I consider
it as being in extremely bad taste."
"And I am surprised at the way I have been treated!" Jane cried out
passionately, her last remnant of patience exhausted. "I understand that
you have seen fit to ignore the arrangement I made with you last June
about my room. Miss Stearns has informed me that you have given it to an
entering freshman. It's the most unfair proceeding I've ever known, and
I shall not submit to such injustice."
This was not in the least what Jane had purposed to say. She had
intended to broach the subject on the diplomatic basis of a mistake
having been made. She realized that she had thrown down the gauntlet
with a vengeance, but she was now too angry to care.
"_Miss Allen!_" The older woman's expression was one of intense
severity. "Such insolence on your part is not only unbecoming but
entirely uncalled for. You appear to have forgotten that you gave up
your room of your own accord. I reserved it for you until I received
your letter of last week."
"Of my _own accord_!" gasped Jane, unable to believe she had heard
aright. "My letter of last week! I don't understand."
"I am at a loss to understand _you_," acidly retorted the matron. "I
know of only one possible explanation for your call upon me this
afternoon. I should prefer not to make it. It would hardly reflect to
your credit."
"I must ask you to explain," insisted Jane haughtily. "We have evidently
been talking at cross purposes. You say that I gave up my room of my own
accord. You mention a letter I wrote you. I have _not_ given up my
room. I have _never_ written you a letter. You owe me an explanation. No
matter how unpleasant it may be, I am not afraid to listen to it."
"Very well," was the icy response. "Since you insist I will say plainly
that it appears, even after writing me a most discourteous letter, you
must have decided, for reasons of your own, to ignore this fact and
return to Madison Hall. Not reckoning that your room would naturally be
assigned to another girl so soon, you were bold enough to come here and
attempt to carry your point with a high hand. I am quite sure you now
understand me."
"I do not," came the vehement denial. "I repeat that I never wrote you a
letter. If you received one signed by me, it was certainly not I who
wrote it. I am not surprised at your unfair opinion of me. You have
never liked me. Naturally you could not understand me. I will ask you to
let me see the letter."
Mrs. Weatherbee's reply was not made in words. Reaching into a
pigeon-hole of her desk she took from it a folded letter minus its
envelope and handed it to Jane.
Her head in a whirl, Jane unfolded it and read:
"MRS. ELLEN WEATHERBEE,
"Madison Hall,
"Wellington Campus.
"Dear Madam:
"Although I regret leaving Madison Hall, it would be highly
disagreeable to me to spend my sophomore year in it with you as
matron. Your treatment of me last year was such that I should not
like to court a second repetition of it. Therefore I am writing to
inform you that I shall not return to the Hall.
"Yours truly,
"JANE ALLEN."