"Good evening," Jerry managed to say politely, amazed though she was at
the unlooked-for callers.
"Good evening," came the prompt response from the foremost girl, spoken
in a cool velvety tone that somehow suggested patronage. "Are you Miss
Dean?"
"No, I am Miss Macy. Miss Dean is my room-mate. She is here. Will you
come in?"
"Thank you." The caller stepped into the room, her two companions at her
heels. She was a young woman of about the same height as Marjorie and
not unlike her in coloring, save that her eyes were a bluish gray,
shaded by long dark lashes, her eyebrows heavily marked. Her hair, a
paler brown than Marjorie's, suggested in arrangement a hairdresser's
art rather than that of natural beauty, pleasing though the coiffure
was. Her frock of pale pink and white effects in silk net and taffeta
was cut short enough of sleeve and low enough of neck to permit the
white shapeliness of her arms and shoulders to be seen. While her
features might be called regular, a close observer would have pronounced
her mouth, in repose, a shade too small for the size of her face, and
her chin a trifle too pointed.
Standing as she was where the electric lights, which Jerry had recently
switched on, played upon her, she made an undeniably attractive picture.
Marjorie recognized her instantly as the girl she had seen driving the
gray car. One of her companions was a small, dark girl with very black
eyes and a sulky mouth. She was wearing a gown of Nile green pongee,
heavily trimmed with expensive ecru lace. It gave her the appearance of
being actually weighed down. The third of the callers Marjorie took an
instant dislike toward. She represented a type of girl that Marjorie had
rarely seen and never encountered at Sanford High School.
While her companions were attired in evening frocks, she was wearing a
sports suit of a white woolly material that was a marvel as to cut and
finish. The white silk velour sports hat, the heavy white silk stockings
and fine, stitched buckskin ties that completed her costume were the
acme of distinctive expense. Despite her carefully chosen apparel, she
was very near to possessing an ugliness of face and feature which no
amount of smart clothes could mitigate. Her hair, such as could be seen
of it from under her hat, was coarse and black. Small, shrewd brown
eyes, which had a trick of half closing, high cheek bones, a rather
retroussé nose and a large, loose-lipped mouth completed an outer
personality that Marjorie found unprepossessing in the extreme. Last of
the three to enter the room, she had closed the door and now stood
almost lounging against it, eyeing Marjorie with a smile that suggested
bored tolerance.
"I am Marjorie Dean." Immediately she heard her name, Marjorie had come
forward. She guessed that the girl of the gray car had come to offer an
apology for her non-appearance. Memory furnishing her with the
spokesman's name, she held out her hand courteously, saying: "Your are
Miss Weyman, are you not? Won't you and your friends sit down?"
Into Natalie Weyman's darkening eyes flared an expression of affronted
surprise. The little dark girl also showed surprise, while the girl in
the sports suit drew down the corners of her wide mouth as though she
had heard something funny but dared not laugh outright.
"Yes, I am Natalie Weyman." Whatever her thoughts were her tones were
still velvety. "I am a sophomore and these are my sophy pals, Miss Vale
and Miss Cairns." She indicated first the small girl, then the lounger.
Both sophomores bowed nonchalantly and lightly clasped the hand Marjorie
extended to each in turn.
"This is my room-mate and very dear friend, Geraldine Macy." Marjorie
now took her turn at introducing.
Jerry bowed and shook hands with the trio, but exhibited no enthusiasm.
She was inwardly raging at them for having chosen a time so inopportune
for making a call. She felt like shouting out in a loud, terrifying
voice: "Have you had your dinner? Well, we haven't had ours. Now beat
it, all of you!"
Introductions over, the callers sat down. Miss Weyman dropped gracefully
into the nearest easy chair, of which the room could count two. The
others seated themselves, side by side, on one of the couch beds. Hardly
had they done so when a second rapping was heard. This time it was
Veronica, Lucy and Muriel. Marjorie opened the door and said quickly:
"Come in, girls. I wish you to meet three members of the sophomore class
who have done us the honor to call."
Involuntarily Veronica's eloquent eyebrows went up in surprise. Lucy's
green eyes took on a peculiar gleam, and Muriel felt displeasure rising
within her. It seemed too bad that, after being neglected, they should
be thus sought before they had had time to get their dinner. The long
ride on the train had left them hungry. Still, there was nothing to be
done save make the best of it. How long the callers had been in
Marjorie's and Jerry's room, Muriel could not know. If they took prompt
leave the Sanford five could still get into the dining room before it
closed. It was twenty minutes to eight. She had looked at her watch
while Ronny was rapping on the door.
After further introductions Miss Weyman said sweetly: "I have an apology
to make Miss Dean. Consider it as being made to all of you. I was to
meet you at the train today, and unfortunately I started a little later
than I had intended. I belong to a club which a few of the freshmen
started last year. All the girls who are members were friends of mine
before I entered Hamilton. We attended a very private preparatory school
and entered college together. We call ourselves the San Soucians and our
club is limited to eighteen members. We do not intend to pass it on
after we are graduated from Hamilton. It is really only a little social
club of our own. Of course, we _try_ to be considerate toward the other
students here, as in the case of welcoming the freshmen."
"Every one was so perfectly sweet to us last year when we entered
Hamilton." Miss Vale now raised a voice in the conversation. "You see we
came from New York to Hamilton in my father's private car. My father is
president of the L. T. and M. Railroad. We had not thought much about
being met at the train by the upper classmen. I _wish_ you might have
_seen_ the crowd that was there to meet us! Girls from _all three
classes_ turned out. We had a smart old celebration, I can tell you."
Her sulky mouth lost its droop as she went on to describe boastingly the
glories of that particular reception. She ended with: "What prep. school
do you come from?"
Informed by Jerry that the Five Travelers were graduated from high
school, she glanced pityingly about the Sanford group, and subsided
with: "I really know nothing at all about high schools. I did not
suppose you could enter college from one."
"Of course one can." Veronica spoke with an energy that her friends
understood, if the callers did not. "Let me ask you a question. Were you
obliged to try entrance examinations to Hamilton College?"
"Ye--s." The reply came a little slowly.
"We are not obliged to take examinations. The senior course in our high
school comprises collegiate subjects. Our diplomas will admit us to any
college in the United States. So you see that high school has at least
that advantage," Ronny concluded evenly.
"I have heard that some of those high schools are really excellent,"
drawled Miss Cairns. "I have heard too that they turn out a lot of digs
and prigs. Girls, you understand, that have to get all they can out of
high school because college is out of the question for them. I feel
sorry for them. I never knew any of that sort, though. In fact, you are
the first high school girls I have ever met. What?" She turned to
Natalie Weyman.
The latter, however, was paying little attention to the conversation.
Her gaze had rested almost uninterruptedly on Marjorie since she had
entered the room. From the discomfited lieutenant's lovely face to her
slender, graceful figure, clothed in a one-piece frock of dark blue
crêpe de chine, the other girl's eyes wandered, only to turn themselves
away for a moment, then begin a fresh inspection.
Meanwhile time was flying, the Five Travelers were growing minutely
hungrier, yet the visitors made no move to go. Miss Weyman had gone no
further than to explain that she had started for the train a little
late. This apology did not coincide with what Helen Trent had said. None
of the Lookouts had forgotten _her_ remarks on the subject. It was in
each girl's mind that she preferred to believe Helen. This did not argue
well as to a future friendship with Natalie Weyman. None of them could
endure even the shadow of untruth.
"Please pardon me for breaking into my apology with an explanation of
our club." Her inspection of Marjorie over for the present, Natalie
returned to the original object of her call. "I meant to say that by the
time I had reached the station you had gone on to Wayland Hall, I
suppose."
"We drove away from the station in a taxicab just as your car drove into
the yard." Muriel fixed the lamely apologetic sophomore with a steady
gaze. Her brown eyes appeared to be taking the other's measure.
"Did you, indeed," Natalie returned somewhat hastily. It was beginning
to dawn upon her that she did not in the least like any of these
freshmen. They were entirely too independent to suit her. Recalling that
which she had been aching to ask when Marjorie had asked her if she were
Miss Weyman, she now questioned almost rudely: "How did you know who _I_
was when you saw me at the station?"
"We did not know who you were then," explained Muriel. "We merely saw a
gray car full of girls. Miss Macy said it looked like a French car.
Afterward, we met a delightful sophomore, Miss Trent. In talking with
her, she mentioned that you had gone to the station to meet us."
"Oh, yes. Miss Trent. She was on the veranda when we left here." She
looked toward Miss Cairns for corroboration. The latter nodded slightly
and made an almost imperceptible gesture with her left hand.
"We are so sorry we missed you, at any rate." Miss Vail took it upon
herself to do a share of the apologizing. At the same time she rose from
her seat on the couch bed. "How do you like the table here?" she queried
condescendingly. "We find it better than last year. Remson has a new
cook now. She can see the other cook silly when it comes to eats."
A peculiar silence ensued as Miss Vale's high-pitched tones ceased. It
had been forced upon the Lookouts to defer an opinion of said "table"
until the next day. They were certainly at present in no position to
make a statement.
"As we have been here so short a time we can't pass an opinion on a
thing at Wayland Hall yet." Marjorie answered for her friends, not
daring to look toward any of them.
"Naturally not," agreed Miss Cairns suavely. "Mind if we leave you now?
We really must go, Nat. We had our dinner at Baretti's tonight. Some of
the Sans are waiting at the Colonial for us. We are going on there for
dessert."
"Yes, the gang will wonder what has become of us." Natalie now got to
her feet. She favored the Lookouts with a smile, which was intended to
be gracious, but utterly lacked sincerity. Her pals already at the door,
she joined them. This time there was no handshaking. While it would not
have been necessary, a truly sincere bevy of girls would have
undoubtedly shaken hands and enjoyed that act of fellowship.
"Thank you for remembering us at the station today, even though we did
miss connections. We appreciate your coming to call on us this evening,
too. Freshmen are very lowly persons at college until they have won
their spurs on the field of college honors. We shall try not to be an
annoyance to our sophomore sisters."
Marjorie tried conscientiously to put aside all trace of irritation as
she made this little speech. She realized that her chums had left it to
her to handle the situation. While they had all exchanged a certain
amount of conversation with the visitors, they had run out from sheer
lack of sympathy. The callers had aroused belligerence in Jerry, Ronny
and Muriel. Lucy Warner had fairly congealed with dislike. Marjorie had
alone stayed on an even keel.
Perhaps the unfailing courtesy of the tired, hungry lieutenant made some
slight impression on the departing sophomores. Halfway out the door as
Marjorie answered, Natalie Weyman had the grace to say: "You really
haven't anything to thank us for, Miss Dean. Wait until we do something
for you, worth while. We will drop in on you again when we have more
time. Good night."
She had been on the point of offering her hand at the last, stirred out
of her usual self-centeredness by Marjorie's gentle manners. Then she
had looked again at the freshman's exquisite face, and fellowship had
died before birth. Natalie Weyman was considered a beauty at home, in
New York City, and at Hamilton College. She had at last seen a girl whom
she considered fully as pretty as herself. As a result she was now very,
very jealous.