A NEW STAR
Ruth had actually been trying her "prentice hand," as Mr. Hammond had
called it, at the production of a moving picture scenario. It was the
first literary work she had ever achieved, although her taste in that
direction had been noted by Mrs. Tellingham and the under-instructors of
the school.
Oh! she would not have had any of them know what she had done in secret
since arriving at the Hall at the beginning of this term. She would not
let even Helen know about it.
"If it is a success--if Mr. Hammond produces it--_then_ I'll tell them,"
Ruth said to herself. "But if he tells me it is no good, then nobody shall
ever know that I was so foolish as to attempt such a thing."
Even after she had it all ready she hesitated some hours as to whether or
not she should send it to the address Mr. Hammond had given her. The
pamphlet he had promised to send her had not arrived, and Ruth had little
idea as to how a scenario should be prepared She had written much more
explanatory matter than was necessary; but she had achieved one thing at
least--she had been direct in the composition of her scenario and she had
the faculty of saying just what she meant, and that briefly. This concise
style was of immense value to her, as Ruth was later to learn.
Ruth managed to slip the big envelope addressed to Mr. Hammond into the
mailbag in the hall without spurring Helen's curiosity again. She had to
chuckle to herself over it, for it really was a good joke on her chum.
Unconsciously, Helen had given her the idea for this little allegorical
comedy which she had written. And how her friend would laugh if the
picture of "Curiosity" should be produced and they should see it on the
screen.
The girls crowded into the big dining room in an orderly manner, but with
some suppressed whispering and laughter on the part of the more giggling
kind. There were always some of the girls so full of spirits that they
could not be entirely repressed.
The long tables quickly filled up. There were few beginners at this time
of year, for most of the new scholars came to Briarwood Hall at the
commencement of the autumn semester.
There was one new girl at the table where Ruth and her particular friends
sat, over which Miss Picolet the little teacher of French, had nominal
charge. Nowadays, Miss Picolet's life was an easy one. She had little
trouble with even the more boisterous girls of the West Dormitory, thanks
to the Sweetbriars.
The new pupil beside the French teacher was Amy Gregg. She was a
colorless, flaxen-haired girl, with such light eyebrows and lashes that
Helen said her face looked like a blank wall.
She was a nervous girl, too; she pouted a good deal and seemed
dissatisfied. Of course, being a stranger, she was lonely as yet; but
under the rules of the Sweetbriars she was not hazed. The S.B.'s word had
become law in all such matters at Briarwood Hall.
After they were seated, Heavy Stone whispered to Ruth: "Isn't that Gregg
girl the most discontented looking thing you ever saw? Her face would sour
cream right now! I hope she doesn't overlook my supper and give me
indigestion."
"Behave!" was Ruth's only comment.
There was supposed to be silence until all were served and the teachers
began eating. The waitresses bustled about, light-footed and demure. Mrs.
Tellingham, who was present on this evening, overlooked all from the small
guest table, as it was called, placed at the head of the room on a
slightly raised platform.
Mrs. Tellingham, Ruth thought, was the loveliest lady in the world. The
girl of the Red Mill had never lost the first impression the preceptress
had made upon her childish mind and heart when she had come to Briarwood
Hall.
At last--just in time to save Heavy's life, it would seem--Miss Picolet
lifted her fork and the girls began to eat. A pleasant interchange of
conversation broke out:
"Did you hear what that funny little Pease girl said to Miss Brokaw in
physiology class yesterday?" asked Lluella Fairfax, who was across the
table from Ruth.
"No. What has the child said now? She's a queer little thing," Helen said,
before her chum could answer.
"She's rather dense, don't you know," put in Lluella's chum, Belle
Tingley.
"I'm not so sure of _that_," laughed Lluella. "Miss Brokaw became
impatient with little Pease and said:
"'It seems you are never able to answer a question, Mary; why is it?'
"'If I knew all the things you ask me, Miss Brokaw,' said Pease, 'my
mother wouldn't take the trouble to send me here.'"
"I'm sure _that_ doesn't prove the poor little kiddie a dunce," laughed
Ruth.
"Say! we have a dense one at this very table," hissed Heavy, a hand beside
her mouth so that the sound of her whisper would not travel to the head
of the table where Miss Picolet and the sullen looking new girl sat.
"What do you mean?" asked Belle, curiously.
"_Whom_ do you mean?" added Helen.
"That infant yonder," hissed the fleshy girl.
"What about her?" Ruth asked. "I'm rather sorry for that little Gregg. She
doesn't look happy."
"Say!" chuckled Heavy. "She tried for an hour yesterday to coax
electricity into the bulb over her table, and then went to Miss Scrimp and
asked for a candle. She got the candle, and burned it until one of the
other girls looked in (you know she's not 'chummed' with anybody yet) and
showed her where the push-button was in the wall. And at that," finished
Heavy, grinning broadly, "I'm not sure that she understood how the 'juice'
was turned on. She must have come from the backwoods."
"Hush!" begged Ruth. "Don't let her think we're laughing at her."
"Miss Scrimp's very strict about candles and oil lamps," said Nettie. "We
use them a lot in the South."
"That old house of yours in 'So'th Ca'lina' must be a funny old place,
Nettie," said Heavy.
"It isn't ours," Nettie said. "The cotton plantation belongs to Aunt
Rachel. She was born on it--the Merredith Place. We usually go there for
the early summer, and then either come No'th, or into the mountains of
Virginia until cool weather. My own dear old Louisiana home isn't
considered healthy for us during the extreme hot weather. It is too damp
and marshy."
"'Way down Souf in de land ob cotton--
Cinnamon seed an' sandy bottom!'"
hummed Heavy. "Oh! I wish I was in Dixie--right now."
"Wait till my Aunt Rachel comes up here," Nettie promised. "I'm going to
beg an invitation for you girls to visit Merredith."
"But it will be hot weather, then," said Heavy; "and I don't want to miss
Light-house Point."
"And I'm just about crazy to get back to Silver Ranch," said Ann Hicks.
"Me for Cliff Island," cried Belle Tingley. "No land of cotton for mine,
this summer."
"When is your aunt coming, Nettie?" asked Ruth.
"To see you graduate, my dear," replied the Southern girl, smiling. "And
wait till she meets you, Ruthie Fielding! She'll near about love you to
death!"
"Oh, everybody loves Ruth. Why shouldn't they?" cried Belle.
"But everybody doesn't give her a fortune, as Nettie's Aunt Rachel did,"
laughed Heavy.
Ruth wished they would not talk so much about that money; but, of course,
she could not stop them. She made no rejoinder, but looked across the room
and out at the upper pane of one of the long windows. It was deep dusk now
without. The evening was clear, with a rising wind moaning through the
trees on the campus.
Tony Foyle, the old gardener and general handy man, was only now lighting
the lamps along the walks.
"There's a funny red star," Ruth said to Helen. "It can't be that Mars is
rising _there_."
"Where?" queried her chum, lazily, scarcely raising her eyes to look.
Helen was not interested in astronomy.
Nobody else was attracted by the red spark Ruth saw. Against the dusky sky
it grew swiftly A new star----
"It is fire!" gasped Ruth, softly, rising on trembling limbs. "_And it is
in the West Dormitory_!"