THE LAST FRESHMAN
It was ten minutes past seven when the club settled down to the frozen
custard and delicious cakes that Grace and Anne had provided for them.
Then Elfreda, who had taken upon herself the making and serving of the
coffee, returned after a brief absence with a percolator of steaming
coffee, Miriam following with the sugar and cream.
"Isn't it too bad we never thought of doing this before?" said Marian
Cummings.
"Something had to be left for our senior year," said Anne Pierson.
"Do you know, I am anything but joyful at being a senior," announced
Elfreda Briggs. "Of course, it is a satisfaction to know that one has
weathered the last three years' examinations and is practically on Easy
Street as far as studies go, but every now and then comes the awful
feeling, 'only a little while and it will all be over'--college, I
mean."
"'Yet a few days, and thee the all-beholding sun shall see no
more.'"
quoted Emma Dean lugubriously.
"Not quite so bad as that," returned Elfreda with an appreciative grin.
"Even we juniors feel more or less that way," said Laura Atkins. "I
never had any real fun until I came to Overton. The time has gone so
fast I can't believe that it is two years since I locked Grace and Anne
out of their room and behaved like a savage. I don't wonder Elfreda
named me the Anarchist. I did my best to live up to the name."
"Oh, forget about that," murmured Elfreda, looking embarrassed.
The members of the club were wholly familiar with the history of Laura
Atkins's freshman year and admired her for the matter-of-fact way in
which she was wont to discuss her early short-comings. Under the sunny
influence of the four girls who had helped her to find herself, she had
developed into a gracious and likeable young woman. She and Mildred
Taylor were the guests of the club that afternoon.
"What is the latest word from erring freshmen? Has any one heard?" asked
Grace. Laura's reference to herself had set Grace to thinking of
freshmen in general.
"We've six at Ralston," groaned Julia Emerson. "The usual
variety--neither rich nor poor, brilliant nor dull, amiable nor
perverse, goody-goody nor lawless. Just that comfortable, maddeningly
commonplace variety of girls who never go to extremes."
"Extremes are dangerous," declared Elfreda judicially.
"Better be an extremist than nothing at all," grumbled Julia.
"For the first time since we came here, there isn't a single freshman at
Wayne Hall," announced Miriam.
"Are all the rooms taken?" asked Marian Cummings.
"All but half of one room," replied Emma Dean. "The illustrious Miss
West is alone in her glory. I heard Mrs. Elwood lamenting to-day because
that particular half was still vacant."
"Some one may take it yet," said Arline Thayer. "This is only the second
week of the term. Only yesterday a freshman arrived at Morton House.
Girls have been known to drift into Overton a whole month after the
beginning of the term."
"Did Miss West ask for a single?" questioned Grace of Emma.
"No, she doesn't in the least yearn for one. You know she is paying her
own way through college. She told Mrs. Elwood that it was all she could
do to keep her head above water as it was and couldn't afford to think
of a single. Of course, Mrs. Elwood hasn't charged her single rates yet,
but if no one else appears she will either have to pay the advanced
price or make other arrangements. Mrs. Elwood knows of two girls who
have been trying to get into Wayne Hall for a long time, and who will
come bag and baggage the moment she says the word."
"That is too bad," said Miriam slowly--"for Miss West, I mean."
A significant silence fell upon the company of girls. The same thought
was in each one's mind. It was Elfreda who finally voiced it. "It looks
as though the S. F.'s ought to get busy," she said slangily. "We might
lend her the money to make up the difference."
"I am afraid that wouldn't do," objected Anne, whose practical
experience with poverty had made her wise. "I imagine with her it is a
question of being economical. It wouldn't be fair to tempt her to
extravagance, for a single would be the height of improvidence,
particularly if she had to go in debt for it."
"Anne is right," declared Gertrude Wells decidedly. "But to be perfectly
frank, I am not in favor of the club taking up Miss West's case. You all
know how badly she behaved toward us last year, particularly toward
Grace. If we offered her help, no doubt we should be ridiculed for our
pains. I think the best thing for us to do is to let her alone."
"So do I," echoed Sarah Emerson.
Several affirmative murmurs went up from various girls.
"Now, see here," began Elfreda Briggs emphatically. "What is the use in
our calling ourselves Semper Fidelis and then going back on our
principles? When we organized this club, we didn't make any conditions
as to who should be helped and who shouldn't, did we? Whoever needed
help was to have it. If there is anyway in which we can be of assistance
to Miss West, then it is our duty to respond cheerfully."
"Hurrah for you, Elfreda!" cried Arline. "You're an honor to the Sempers
and your own sweet native land. Of course we aren't going to pick and
choose whom we shall help. I think we had better appoint a committee to
call on Miss West and find out if we can render her any financial
assistance."
"I'm in favor of that committee," declared Emma Dean, "only don't ask me
to serve on it."
"Grace and Arline are the very ones for that stunt," proposed Julia
Emerson. "They can do it to perfection."
"Please don't ask me," said Grace with sudden earnestness. "I just
can't, that's all." Her face flushed, and a distressed look crept into
her eyes which her friends were quick to note.
"Suppose you and Elfreda call on her, Miriam?" proposed Arline. "You two
are very valiant."
"Excuse me," said Elfreda so promptly that everyone laughed. "I may look
valiant, but to every woman her own fear, you know."
"Oh, look, girls!" The sudden exclamation came from Gertrude Wells, who
was sitting near the open window. "There's the automobile bus from the
station. It's stopping in front of Wayne Hall, too."
There was a concerted rush for the two windows.
"I wonder who it can be!" cried Emma Dean. "Wouldn't it be funny if it
were the greatly desired freshman, Miss West's other half?"
The watchers saw the bus door open. Then out of it stepped the tallest
girl they had ever seen.
"I believe she is seven feet tall," muttered Emma Dean. "I am sure of
it."
"Nonsense," laughed Miriam. "But she is not far from six. I wish it were
daylight, then we could see her face."
"I wonder who she can be," mused Arline.
"There is only one answer," smiled Miriam Nesbit. "As Emma just stated,
she must be Miss West's other half. However, we shall know before long."
A moment later they heard the bell ring, then up from the hall came the
sound of Mrs. Elwood's voice speaking in surprised but pleased tones. A
voice almost masculine in its depth answered. There was a tramp of feet
up the stairs and down the hall. In the next instant the door of the end
room had opened and closed upon the newcomer.
"Girls, you are saved," proclaimed Gertrude Wells dramatically. "We have
been wasting our valuable time to-night trying to solve Miss West's
problem, while all the time the queen of the giants was hurrying as fast
as ever she could to the rescue."
There was a faint general laugh at the remark, then Elfreda said
severely, "Young women, do you consider making uncomplimentary remarks
about new students in the line of true Overton spirit?"
"But she did look seven feet tall," persisted Emma Dean.
"Think how deceitful appearances sometimes are," reminded Miriam.
"Never judge a person by moonlight," added Ruth Denton.
"Never judge them at all," smiled Grace. "Let the poor freshman rest in
peace. I have a last sweet surprise for you. Name it and you can have
it."
"Caramels," guessed Julia Emerson.
"Marshmallows," said Gertrude Wells.
"Oh, I know," cried Arline. "Nut chocolates; the delicious kind that old
candy man in Oakdale makes."
"Some one must have told you," said Grace, going to the closet and
returning with a huge box. "You are all to stay here until the last
chocolate is eaten."
It was on the ragged edge of half-past ten when the Semper Fidelis Club
trooped happily across the campus to their various houses, but, faithful
to their duty, the big candy box reposed in Grace's waste basket, quite
empty.
"I wonder how Kathleen West received her roommate," observed Miriam. She
and Elfreda had lingered for a moment in Grace's room after the others
had gone.
"It is fortunate for her that a belated freshman happened along," was
Grace's serious reply.
"But most unfortunate for the freshman," added Elfreda. "However, this
one looks perfectly capable of fighting her own battles."