"Now what was the matter with them?" Jerry demanded, as she and Marjorie
entered the dining room. "Were we properly snubbed? No mistake about it.
They must have heard what I said about them last night."
"I don't recall that you said anything very dreadful about them,"
returned Marjorie.
"I compared them to Comanches and expressed my general disapproval of
their howls," confessed Jerry cheerfully. "Only they didn't hear me say
anything. Leila said as much as I. Neither of us meant to be
ill-natured. You know I usually say outright whatever I think in a case
of that kind."
"Those two freshies acted as though they were angry with us for some
unknown reason or other." Marjorie knitted her brows. "They'd hardly
have behaved like that simply because they didn't know us and resented
our smiling at them on that account."
"That _would_ be the height of snobbishness," replied Jerry. "We'd
better tell the girls. They may try to be helpful and get a snubbing,
same as we did."
Seated at table, Jerry proceeded to tell the others of the incident. Be
it said to her credit she made no attempt to retail it as gossip. She
bluntly stated what had happened and warned them to keep their
helpfulness at home.
"That's too bad," Lillian Wenderblatt said sympathetically. "It puts you
all at sea as to what to do next. You say the one girl returned your
smile. Perhaps when you know her better you can find out what ails the
other two."
"They can't have a grievance against us when they don't know us,"
Marjorie said. "I shall let those two alone for the present and confine
my attention to some of the other freshies."
With this she dropped the incident from her thought and speech. After
luncheon, as she redressed her hair to go to the station, it recurred to
her disagreeably. She half formed the guess that Elizabeth Walbert might
have made the acquaintance already of these two freshmen and prejudiced
them against herself and her friends. Miss Walbert could not possibly
have a just grievance against her. Their acquaintance had been too
brief. As a former friend of Leslie Cairns, however, she probably held
rancor against the Lookouts.
Marjorie sturdily dismissed this conjecture as not in keeping with her
principles. She felt it unfair to accuse Elizabeth Walbert, even in
thought, of such an act. She resolved to take Lillian Wenderblatt's
advice and cultivate the acquaintance of the black-eyed girl who had
shown signs of affability. She might then, eventually, learn wherein lay
the difficulty.
A rollicking afternoon with her chums, crowded with meeting and
welcoming at least twenty seniors who had returned to college on the
same train as Helen Trent, drove the disquieting incident from her mind.
Helen was the last one of the nine girls, who had long been intimate
friends, to return to Hamilton. Lillian now added as the tenth
"Traveler," the band of friends were in high feather. Helen was
triumphantly escorted to the Lotus from the station and there feted and
made much of. Arriving at ten minutes past four o'clock, it was after
six before she saw the inside of Wayland Hall. Three rounds of ices
apiece had also dampened the ardor of all concerned for dinner.
"These joyful ice cream sociables are appetite killers. There goes the
dinner gong and yours truly is listening to it without a snark of
enthusiasm. I think I'll forego dinner and finish straightening my
traps," declared Jerry. Now returned to her room, Jerry viewed her still
scattered possessions with distinct disfavor.
"You had better go down and eat something," advised Marjorie. "You will
be ravenous about bedtime, if you don't. We haven't a thing here to eat
except candy. As a late feed it's conducive of nightmares, Jeremiah."
"Wise and thoughtful Mentor, so it is," grinned Jerry. "I'll take your
advice."
"If I see that black-eyed girl who smiled at me downstairs I shall speak
to her and start things moving," Marjorie said with decision. "I won't
ask her the very first thing what was the matter with her friends, but
I'll do so as soon as I am a little bit acquainted with her."
Marjorie found no opportunity to put her resolve into execution that
evening. The freshman in question was seated at a table the length of
the room from the one at which she sat. The two freshmen who had shown
such utter hauteur had seats at the same table as their black-eyed
friend. Marjorie had not even an opportunity to catch the other girl's
eye.
The following morning, as she started across the campus with Ronny for a
stroll and a talk in the warm early autumn sunshine, fortune favored
her. Seated on a rustic bench under a huge elm tree were two of the
freshmen she was anxious to come into touch with. One was the black-eyed
girl, the other the plump blonde.
"It's a splendid opportunity, Ronny." Marjorie took Ronny by the arm.
"Come along. I am going to speak to them. No time like the present, you
know."
"All right, lead the way." Ronny obligingly allowed Marjorie to propel
her toward the bench where the duo were seated.
"Good morning." Marjorie stopped fairly in front of the rustic seat, her
brown eyes alight with gentle friendliness. "Isn't the campus wonderful
today? This is one of its happy moods. I always say it changes in
expression just as persons do."
"Good morning." The black-eyed girl's tones were as friendly as her own
had been. The fair-haired girl also acknowledged the greeting with a nod
and smile. "Truly, I agree with you. I think this campus is the most
magnificent piece of lawn I ever saw or expect to see."
"I see where the good old campus has made another friend." Ronny now
broke into the conversation nicely started between Marjorie and the
freshmen. "Marjorie, this person here," Ronny playfully indicated her
chum, "calls it her oldest friend at Hamilton."
"I don't wonder. I hadn't thought of it in that light before," returned
the blonde freshman half shyly.
Both freshmen showed a certain pleasure mingled with reserve in having
thus been addressed by the two seniors.
"If you don't mind, I am going to bring that seat over there up beside
yours." Marjorie promptly got into action. "Then we can all have a sunny
morning confab. It is high time we began to get acquainted with our
little sisters," she finished laughingly.
Together she and Ronny carried the nearby seat to a place beside the one
holding the two freshmen. Then conversation began afresh, a trifle
stiffly at first. Soon the four were laughing merrily over Calista
Wilmot's humorous narration of her first day at Bertram Preparatory
School when the taxicab driver had, at the start, misunderstood her and
carried her to the opposite end of the borough in which the school was
situated.
"He landed me with a flourish in front of the main entrance to the
Bertram Academy for young men," she related. "I saw a crowd of young men
playing football on a side lawn. That was queer, I thought. I didn't see
a sign of a single girl. He set my luggage down on the drive. In another
minute he would have been off and away. I had paid him before we
started. I called out to him to wait and asked him if he was sure it was
the Bertram Preparatory School for Girls. Right then we came to an
understanding. Maybe I didn't drive away from that school in a hurry. I
had a perfect string of mishaps that day, big and little." She continued
to relate them to her amused listeners.
An hour slipped away unheeded by the congenial quartette under the big
elm. Marjorie made no approach to the subject on her mind. The two
freshmen asked numerous impersonal questions regarding Hamilton College
and its traditions. They made but scant reference to their own friends
except to remark that there were twelve of them at Wayland Hall.
"Look, Ronny." Marjorie pointed to the chimes clock in the chapel tower
which showed eleven. "We must go. I promised to go over to Silverton
Hall to see Robin Page before luncheon. We'll have time just for a
hurried call."
To her new acquaintances she explained: "Miss Page is a very dear
friend. She came back to Hamilton on the seven-thirty train last night.
Would you like to go with us to Silverton Hall? I am sure she will be
glad to meet you."
The two girls, thus invited, exchanged eager glances. It was evident
both wished very much to go. Still, for some reason, they hesitated to
accept.
"I don't know--" began Calista doubtfully. "Not today, I think." She
adopted a tone of sudden decision.
"Some other day, I hope," supplemented Charlotte Robbins, the blonde
girl. She looked almost appealingly at Marjorie.
"Any day," was Marjorie's cordial response. "My room, or rather Miss
Macy's and my room is 15. Delighted to be of service to you. Miss Lynne
and I will make you a real call some evening this week."
"Our number is 20. I hope you _will_ come and see us." Charlotte Robbins
emphasized the will as though she had definitely made up her mind to be
cordial.
After Marjorie and Ronny had left them, the two freshmen regarded each
other in silence for a moment.
"Now we have gone and done it!" exclaimed Charlotte with a short laugh.
"What else could we have done?"
"Nothing," replied Calista with conviction. "Gus is going to be as cross
as two sticks. She is so stubborn, once she makes up her mind to be."
"She has made a mistake about Miss Dean and Miss Lynne, at least. They
are sweet."
"I don't want to quarrel with Gussie over this business." Calista
knitted reflective brows. "In spite of the numerous wordy tilts she and
I are always having, I'm awfully fond of Gus. A more generous girl never
lived, and she is so square, too."
"She's the baby who wouldn't grow up," Charlotte said with a whimsical
smile. "She's good as gold when she wants to be good. She roars like a
spoiled infant when she is crossed. The best way to do is to stand by
the courage of our convictions. We like these two seniors. They appear
to like us. We'll just have to make Gus understand that."