RUTH IS NOT SATISFIED
Ruth Fielding was not at all satisfied. Not that her experiences in
these first few weeks of college were not wholly "up to sample," as the
slangy Jennie Stone remarked. Ruth was getting personally all out of
college life that she could expect.
The mere fact that a little handful of the girls looked at her somewhat
askance because of her success as a motion picture writer, did not
greatly trouble the girl of the Red Mill. She could wait for them to
forget her small "fame" or for them to learn that she was quite as
simple and unaffected as any other girl of her age. It was about Rebecca
Frayne that Ruth was disturbed in her mind. Here was the case of a
student who, Ruth believed, was much misunderstood.
She could not imagine a girl deliberately making trouble for herself.
Rebecca Frayne by the expenditure of a couple of dollars in the purchase
of a new tam-o'-shanter might have easily overcome this dislike that had
been bred not alone in the minds of the girls of the two upper classes,
but among the sophomores and her own classmates as well. The sophomores
thought her ridiculous; the freshmen themselves felt that she was
bringing upon the whole class unmerited criticism.
Ruth looked deeper. She saw the strange girl walk past her mates
unnoticed, scarcely spoken to, indeed, by the freshmen and ignored
completely by members of the other classes. And yet, to Ruth's mind,
there seemed to be an air about Rebecca Frayne--a look in her eyes,
perhaps--that seemed to beg for sympathy.
It was no hardship for Ruth to speak to the girl and try to be friendly
with her. But opportunities for this were not frequent.
In the first place Ruth's own time was much occupied with her studies,
her own personal friends, Helen and Jennie, and the new scenario on
which she worked during every odd hour.
Several times Ruth went to the door of Rebecca's room and knocked. She
positively knew the girl was at home, but there had been no answer to
her summons and the door was locked.
The situation troubled Ruth. When she was among her classmates, Rebecca
seemed nervously anxious to please and eager to be spoken to, although
she had little to say. Here, on the other hand, once alone in her room,
she deliberately shut herself away from all society.
Soon after the outdoor song festival that had been so successful, and
immediately following the organization of the freshman class and its
election of officers, Ruth and Helen went over to the library one
evening to consult some reference books.
The reference room was well filled with busy girls of all classes, who
came bustling in, got down the books they required, dipped into them for
a minute and then departed to their own studies, or else settled down to
work on their topics for a more extended period.
It was a cold evening, and whenever a girl entered from the hall a
breath of frosty air came with her, and most of those gathered in the
room were likely to look up and shiver. Few of those assembled failed to
notice Rebecca Frayne when she came in.
"Goodness! See who has came," whispered Helen.
"Oh, Rebecca!" murmured Ruth, looking up as the girl in question crossed
the room.
"Hasn't she the cheek of all cheeks to breeze in here this way?" Helen
went on to say with more force than elegance. "That awful tam again."
One could not fail to see the tam-o'-shanter very well. It was
noticeable in any assembly.
Perhaps half of the girls in the reference room were seniors and
juniors. Several of the members of the younger classes nodded to the
newcomer, though not many noticed her in this way.
There was, however, almost immediately a general movement by the girls
belonging to the senior and junior classes. They got up grimly, put away
the books they were at work upon, and filed out, one by one, and without
saying a word.
Helen stared after them, and nudged Ruth.
"What is it?" asked her chum, who had been too busy to notice.
"Did you see that?" asked Helen.
"Did I see what?"
"There isn't a senior or a jun left in the room. That--that's something
more than a coincidence."
Ruth was puzzled. "I really wish you would explain," she said.
Helen was not the only girl remaining who had noticed the immediate
departure of the members of the two older classes. Some of the
sophomores were whispering together. Rebecca's fellow-classmen glanced
at her sharply to see if she had noticed what had occurred.
"I can't believe it," Ruth said worriedly, after Helen explained. "They
would not go out because she came in."
The next day, however, the matter was more marked. Rebecca could sing;
she evidently loved singing. In the classes for vocal music there was
often a mixture of all grades, some of the seniors and juniors attending
with the sophomores and freshmen.
Ruth Fielding, of course, never missed these classes. She hoped to be
noticed and have her voice tried out for the Glee Club. Professor
Leidenburg was to give a little talk on this day that would be helpful,
and the class was well attended.
But when Rebecca Frayne came into the small hall just before the
professor himself appeared, there was a stir throughout the audience.
The girls, of course, were hatless here; but that morning Rebecca had
been seen wearing the "scrambled-egg tam," as Helen insisted upon
calling it.
There was an intake of breath all over the room. Rebecca walked down the
aisle in search of an empty seat.
And suddenly half the seats were empty. She could have her choice--and a
large one.
"Goodness!" Helen gasped.
Every senior and junior in the room had arisen and had left her seat.
Not a word had been spoken, nor had they glanced at Rebecca Frayne, who
at first was unaware of what it portended.
The older girls filed out silently. Professor Leidenburg entered by the
door beside the organ just in time to see the last of them disappear. He
looked a bit surprised, but said nothing and took up the matter at hand
with but half an audience.
Rebecca Frayne had seen and understood at last. She sat still in her
seat, and Ruth saw that she did not open her lips when, later, the
choruses were sung. Her face was very pale.
Nobody spoke to her when the class was dismissed. This was not an
intentional slight on the part of her mates; simply, the girls did not
know what to say.
The seniors and juniors were showing Rebecca that she was taboo. Their
attitude could not be mistaken. And so great was the influence of these
older girls of Ardmore upon the whole college that Rebecca walked
entirely alone.
Ruth and Helen walked down the hill behind Rebecca that afternoon. Ruth
was very silent, while Helen buzzed about a dozen things.
"I--I wonder how that poor girl feels?" murmured the girl of the Red
Mill after a while.
"Cold, I imagine!" declared her chum, vigorously. "I'm half frozen
myself, Ruth. There's going to be a big frost to-night and the lake is
already skimmed over. Say, Ruth!"
"Well?" asked her friend, absently.
"Let's take our skates first thing in the morning down to that man who
sharpens things at the boathouse; will you?"