THE EAVESDROPPER
Politely responding to the greetings extended to herself and Ida as they
advanced down the line, they came at last to the girl who stood next to
Marian. The instant Jane had touched hands with the former she drew
Ida's arm within her own and turned abruptly away, without giving Marian
time to do more than glare angrily after her. Jane realized very well
that what she had done was in the nature of a rudeness, yet she felt
that under the circumstances it was justifiable.
To her great relief, Judith, Adrienne and Ethel did precisely the same
thing.
"Well, we came through with our heads still on," congratulated naughty
Judith in Jane's ear, the moment they had won clear of the fateful
receiving line. "Clever little Janie. I saw and I heeded. Our dear
Marian looked ready to bite. I think she would have snapped anyway, if
we'd given her half a chance. Good thing she was on the end. I'm sure
nobody noticed."
"I hope no one did," Jane sighed. "I hated to do it. I think, too, she
intended to be hateful. I saw it in her face, so I just slid away
without giving her a chance. I'm glad that ordeal's over. Now I must
find some partners for Ida. The dancing will soon begin."
This proved an easy task. Whatever might be freshman opinion of Jane
Allen, she had more friends among the sophomores than she had believed
possible. In touch socially with her class for the first time since her
return to Wellington, she was amazed at the smiling faces and gay
greetings which she met at every turn.
It had a wonderfully cheering effect on her, coming as it did on the
heels of the recent freshman demonstration of ill-will. It gave her a
thrill of intense happiness. She resolved to put away every vexatious
thought and enjoy the frolic with all her might.
That she had successfully put her resolution into effect was evidenced
by her bright eyes and laughing lips when, two hours afterward, she and
Judith seated themselves on a wicker settee after a one-step which they
had danced together for old time's sake.
"I'm having a splendiferous time!" glowed Judith. "You can see for
yourself how much that old paper amounted to. Most of these freshmen
have been lovely to me. I've steered clear of the ones who looked
doubtful. I've had a few scowls handed to me. It's been easy to pick out
the ignoble Noble's satellites by their freezing stares. I wonder who
escorted our noble little friend? Cousin Marian, no doubt," she added,
with her ever-ready chuckle.
"No doubt," was Jane's dry repetition. "Let's go and get some lemonade,
Judy," she proposed irrelevantly. "Just watching that crowd around the
punch bowl makes me thirsty."
"I'm in need of a few cups of lemonade myself," concurred Judith
amiably.
Attempting to rise, an ominous ripping sound informed Jane that Judith
had been unconsciously sitting on a fold of the silver tissue overdress
to her gown.
"Oh, what a shame! I didn't know I was sitting on your overskirt, Jane.
That's too bad!"
Judith hastily got to her feet to ruefully inspect the amount of damage
she had done.
"It's nothing," Jane assured lightly. "Let's drink our lemonade and
then go over to the dressing room. I can pin this tear so it will stay,
I guess. The gathers are only ripped out a little."
Having drunk two cups of lemonade apiece, they strolled on toward the
dressing room. It was the little side room the freshman team had used
the previous year when playing basket-ball.
Nor were they aware, as they crossed the wide room, arm in arm, that a
certain pair of pale blue eyes jealously watched them. As they
disappeared through the dressing-room door, Marian Seaton hurried after
them, disagreeable purpose written on her face.
Quite oblivious to the fact that she was one of a welcoming committee,
she had fully intended to say something cutting to Jane when the latter
should arrive that evening in the gymnasium. Having missed one
opportunity she did not propose to miss a second. This time Jane Allen
should hear what she had to say.
At the slightly opened door she heard words which brought her to an
abrupt halt. It was not the first time she had listened at that selfsame
door. Edging close, she turned her back to it.
Facing the big room, her pale eyes roved over it with studied
carelessness. Her ears, however, were sharply trained to catch the
sound of two voices that drifted plainly out to her.
Meanwhile Judith, unaware of listeners, was gayly remarking as she
pinned up the tear in Jane's overdress:
"This reminds me of the tear in the white lace dress that caused such a
fuss last year. It was a good thing you were around to help Norma out of
that mix-up. If it hadn't been for you, Edith Hammond would have gone
straight to Mrs. Weatherbee and told her that it was Norma who stole her
dress. I must say, Edith acted splendidly about it afterward. I never
thought she had it in her to do as she did."
"Things looked pretty black for poor Norma that day until I made things
right with Edith," reminisced Jane. "She was determined to make Norma
give back her dress when all the while----"
"It was Judy Stearns who had really stolen it," merrily supplemented
Judith.
"I'll never forget Edith's face when I told her I was sorry to say that
the real thief was Judith Stearns," laughed Jane.
"I was the thief, all right enough, but only a few people knew it. Alas,
my fatal failing!" grinned Judith. "There! I guess that will stay.
Let's go. I hear the enlivening strains of a fox trot. That means us."
It also meant to the listener outside that her time of eavesdropping was
up. Before the two occupants of the dressing room had reached the door
Marian Seaton had hurried away from it, her original intention quite
forgotten.