The real bit of proof was nearer her hand then Augusta had dreamed. Not
until the following evening did she have time to take apart the sticky
effigy of herself. Then she ran her fingers into the handkerchief bag to
ascertain what had been used for stuffing. She withdrew her hand,
clutching something of harder substance than lace collars and
handkerchiefs. She looked at her find in amazement. It was a bracelet
watch. More, it did not belong to either herself or Flossie.
The heavy gold back of the little watch was monogrammed with the letters
E. A. W. Gussie's eyes lighted in triumph. Dexterously she picked open
the back of the watch. She remembered that many girls had their full
names written on a thin inside case, particularly if the watch were very
valuable. There was more chance of a return in case of loss. Surely
enough, on the inner plate appeared Elizabeth Walbert's full name.
Gussie had her bit of proof. In stuffing the handkerchief bag, the watch
had evidently become unclasped and remained in the bag. In her hurry to
finish and be gone the marauder had not even missed it.
Gussie's subdued shout of elation startled Flossie, who was writing a
theme. A few minutes' talk and the two went down to Miss Remson's
office, there to remain for some time. The manager had called a meeting
directly after dinner that evening. She had asked every student present,
separately and on honor, whether they had any part in the outrage of the
evening before. Each had answered in the negative. She was naturally at
sea. It was possible that the mischief had been done by outside
students.
Gussie's information served to bring back Leila's warning of early fall
against Elizabeth Walbert. Pledging both freshmen to secrecy, Miss
Remson made a lengthy call on Doctor Matthews the next morning.
The ring leader in the mischief had gone to her classes that morning
feeling complacently secure. She had said "No" to Miss Remson's stern
inquiry with an expression of utter innocence in her widely-opened blue
eyes. A telephone call for Elizabeth at luncheon hour, requesting her to
report at Doctor Matthews' office at two o'clock that afternoon caused
her no great trepidation. She immediately jumped to the conclusion that
Marjorie had at last reported her for the accident to the elderly woman
on the highway. She had long since framed her defense, intending to
place the blame squarely upon her accusers.
What she did not expect to see was a familiar bit of jewelry reposing on
the president's desk. Possessed of a good deal of jewelry, and very
careless with it, she had not, as yet, missed the watch. She owned two
others, as well, and kept poor track of them. She had forgotten all
about having worn it while upsetting Gussie's room.
Her memory was soon refreshed in a way that drove the color from her
cheeks and took away her greatest prop, conceited self-assurance. She
tried to deny her own watch. Her name on the inner case merely added
fuel to the doctor's wrath. Her complete downfall came with a burst of
hysterical weeping, of which anger formed a large part. Pinned down to a
confession, she did not hesitate to name her two allies. They were also
sent for, and before they left the office sentence had been pronounced
upon all three. They were given the regulation seven days to pack and
notify their families. They were also held for damage to property and
ordered to make monetary restitution.
Gussie and Florence utterly refused to accept a penny from the three for
their personal losses. Miss Remson, however, accepted a settlement for
the damage done to the room.
With their departure went the last really pernicious element in Hamilton
College. Elizabeth Walbert had been, if anything, more unscrupulous than
Leslie Cairns. Lack of a certain sense of balance, which Leslie had
possessed, had prompted her to enjoy a kind of malicious mischief of
which Leslie would not have entertained a thought.
* * * * *
"Well, your last enemy has been routed in confusion, beautiful Bean. I
just saw her depart in a station taxi. Guess she sent her car home ahead
of her." Jerry came in from the campus late one afternoon with this
pleasing information.
"Glad of it." Marjorie looked up from a translation she was making.
"She's to blame for my trouble with Miss Susanna, indirectly. She
deserved expulsion. I felt sorry for the Sans, a little. I don't feel
sorry for her. I think she was outrageous; worse even in disposition
than Rowena Farnham."
Jerry agreed, glad to see Marjorie evince resentment against the
disgraced junior. She realized that nothing save the utmost bitterness
of spirit could have wrung that denunciation from her charitable
room-mate. Jerry knew how deeply Marjorie felt the loss of Miss
Susanna's friendship and wished she could in some way manage to set
things to rights between them.
The more she thought about it the more she felt impelled to go to
Hamilton Arms and "have it out" with Miss Susanna. It lacked only two
days until May Day, when she definitely decided to go on May Day evening
and plead Marjorie's cause. The fact that Miss Susanna had evidently not
reported Elizabeth Walbert was to Jerry an indication of her leniency
toward Marjorie. Jerry shrewdly suspected that the old lady would
welcome a peace ambassador.
On May Day evening, at a little after seven o'clock, she lifted the
heavy knocker of the Arms and waited rather sheepishly for an answer to
her ring. She had not the least idea of what she should say to Miss
Susanna, provided the latter would see her.
Jonas greeted her with delighted surprise in his fine old face. "I'm so
glad you came, Miss Jerry," he said. "She'll be glad, too. She misses
the little girl, God bless her."
Jerry felt a slight catch in her throat at the words. They were
precisely like two pathetic old children, she thought, who had lost a
merry playmate. Jonas' prediction that Miss Hamilton would be glad to
see her was verified. She shook hands with Jerry, then she kissed her.
Next she took out her handkerchief and wiped away a few tears which had
welled to her eyes. Then the two sat down for a long talk. Jerry did
most of the talking. Miss Susanna listened like a thirsty plant greedily
absorbing water.
"It was all my fault," the old lady declared contritely. "I was upset by
the fall, and crotchety. I wouldn't give my poor child a hearing. Worse,
I didn't answer her letter. I was still provoked with her when I
received it. Later, I came to my senses. But I haven't forgotten her. I
have done something for her that she'll like. Just think! Two years ago
she came here all by herself and hung that violet May basket! I have
been happier since then. Now we must get back to our good times again.
If any of you simpletons of girls had come to see me before we could
have straightened this snarl long ago."
Jerry laughed at this last. "It's true, Miss Susanna," she agreed, "we
were simpletons. Leila spoke of coming over here once to me. I told her
I would go, except I thought Marjorie would not like us to do so."
"I should have answered her letter. I wasn't fair to her. I am going to
write her a little note this evening. Jerry, will you be my messenger?
This is Uncle Brooke's birthday, you know. Marjorie will like to hear
from me tonight on that very account. You go into the Chinese room and
talk to Jonas, while I'm writing it. That is his favorite haunt. He
always reads his paper in there."
Jerry was quite willing to interview Jonas in the Chinese room. She
loved the room and she thought Jonas the most interesting old man she
had ever seen. She wished she could induce him to speak of Brooke
Hamilton. She liked the idea of having some interesting bit of
information concerning the latter to take back to Marjorie.
Being an exceedingly clever young person, she skillfully drew Jonas out
to talk of the founder of Hamilton. He told her several incidents of his
former employer's life that were of vivid interest. The most amazing bit
of information she gleaned from Jonas, however, was the fact that the
old man had attended the performance of both plays and the concert as
well.
"Miss Susanna was anxious I should attend them," he explained, his face
breaking into a crinkle of little smiling lines that Jerry thought
beautiful. "But I should have gone to them, at any rate. Tell our
Sunshine girl so for me. Tell her, too, that if she had lived in Mr.
Brooke's time she would have been his staunchest supporter and ally. Her
interest in the college he loved comes second to his own."
The old servitor's deep voice echoed through the spacious room. For an
instant Jerry was seized by the eerie fancy that the departed Brooke
Hamilton himself had been speaking.
When Jerry left Hamilton Arms it was nearly nine o'clock. Jonas insisted
on accompanying her to the campus gates. Darkness had fallen and there
was no moonshine until after midnight. Jerry carried with her the note
and an immense round bunch of double, sweet-scented garden violets;
these last, Miss Susanna's peace-offering to Marjorie.
"Oh! Um-m! How sweet!" Marjorie caught the fragrance of the violets the
moment Jerry entered the room. She cried out with pleasure as she saw
the perfumed purple blossoms. "Where have you been? Who gave you those
perfectly lovely violets, Jeremiah?"
"Guess where I've been." Jerry advanced to the table where Marjorie sat
with her books. She dropped the note and the flowers directly in front
of her chum.
"Why, Jeremiah!" Marjorie cried out. First glance at the note and she
had recognized that familiar fine hand. Such violets as those she now
held to her flushed face grew only at Hamilton Arms. "I--I--don't see----"
she began. Then her curly head went down on the table, supported by one
rounded arm.
When she raised it again two or three tears trembled on her long lashes,
but a smile irradiated her face. "I wondered where you had gone, Jerry,"
she said tremulously. "Now I know. And you did it for me! I don't have
to read Miss Susanna's note to know that everything is all right again.
I only have to look at these violets. Mr. Brooke Hamilton's favorite
flower and today was his birthday! It's just two years tonight since I
hung the May basket on Miss Susanna's door. She said after we came to
know her that the violets that night seemed like a message from him.
Somehow I feel that way about these violets. He planted them and tended
them. They are like a fragrant message of good will from him."