ETHEL ENTERS COLLEGE
The next morning Ethel Hollister walked up to Barnard and put in her
application for admittance. The following week upon her first
examination she failed, but she entered the class with conditions. The
girl studied hard and soon made good.
She liked the girls of her class. They were intelligent, athletic, and
agreeable.
Her former friends and companions from La Rue’s declared that of late—in
fact, since she had become a Camp Fire Girl—Ethel Hollister had
developed fads. This Barnard was one. But as Ethel kept on steadily
progressing in college, and she was so very young—not yet
seventeen—people began to consider her a girl of great ability and
intelligence. Mrs. Hollister grew to be proud of hearing her praised on
every side and Archibald seemed less worried over money matters. She was
rather glad that things had changed. Perhaps it was all for the best,
and people would respect them no less.
Grandmother never wearied of hearing her grandchild tell of her visit.
“And to think,” she’d say, “that Susan has had all the trouble she tells
of and has made no sign. How gladly would I have helped her. Still, had
I done so we would have had no house. Well, the Lord knows what’s best.
We could only have offered her a home. I’m glad the Insane Asylum was
endowed and the boys educated before the crash came.”
Nora did not visit New York in the winter. She went South with her
father. The girls—Kate and Ethel—corresponded, and in that way Ethel
heard all of the news. The Judge came often and took Patty and Kate on
long motor trips. Mattie was doing nicely. She was employed in a Woman’s
Exchange where she received twelve dollars a week and taught cooking and
sewing. Mollie was improving daily. Mr. Hastings had a fine position
with Judge Sands. Honora was away, but the rest of the girls were as
usual. The Camp Fires met weekly and everyone missed Ethel, but no one
missed her as did Aunt Susan. “Why,” wrote Kate, “she says the light has
gone out of her life, and Tom roams around disconsolate. But,” she
added, “you should see the up-to-date way in which he dresses. He is the
pink of fashion, I tell you.”
Ethel laughed, and while reading would stop every now and then to
explain.
Then Ethel answered:
“I have joined Miss Westcott’s Camp Fire Girls, and if you believe it,
Mamma goes with me. She doesn’t like it, but she’s a great help to me
and to the girls, for she teaches them so much. She’s consistent and it
will take her some time to overcome her prejudices. Nanny Bigelow
belongs, and Harvey takes us when Mamma can not go. By the way, Harvey
seems quite interested in medicine, and after graduating he is going to
study it. We call him ‘Doctor’ Bigelow.
“Dorothy Kip’s Day Nursery has proved a great success. It is the dearest
little flat, and the babies are sweet. Dorothy’s old woman is a great
help, and I want you to know that Dorothy works hard. Why, she almost
runs the place on contributions and her allowance, and the little ones
are just as happy and comfortable as possible. She has books and toys,
and we girls take turns in going in and reading to the elder children,
as well as amusing the younger ones. That is a good charity, and
Grandmother (Kate noticed that Ethel had begun to call Mrs. Hollister
‘Mother’ and the old lady ‘Grandmother’) goes nearly every pleasant day
and takes flowers. She generally spends the afternoon with them, so in a
small way Dorothy Kip is emulating Jane Adams. Who knows but some day
she may be her equal,—Oh!”
The second letter said:
“I must tell you something. The other evening Harvey Bigelow called. You
know I never liked him any more than I liked Mattie nor Nora. Now I like
Mattie and I am beginning to like Harvey. I hope I shall change towards
Nora, but I see no sign now. Well, Harvey began.
“‘Miss Ethel,’ he said, ‘I’ve determined to become a physician. I
presume you’ve heard that, and I’m determined to become a good one, too.
You may not know it, but I have always liked boys. I don’t say that I
dislike girls,—but I do like boys. (Harvey is developing a sense of
humor.) When I visited my college chum—Joe Atkinson—this last summer, I
was surprised to learn that he was the Scout Master to a troop of eight
boys. He lives in Springfield, Illinois. I had a corking visit and a
fine time with the kids, two of whom are his young brothers.
“‘Do you know, I became mightily interested in the movement. I have
studied and watched it and I think it’s the finest thing ever started. I
came home quite enthusiastic and I talked of it to the two younger Kip
boys and Alan McAllister,—Grace’s brother. If you’ll believe it, before
I realized what I’d done, these boys had formed a troop and began to
importune me to be the Scout Master of it. There’s the two Kips, Tom
Wilder (Sara Judson’s cousin), a brother of Grace McAllister, Tommy
Westcott, and my cousin, Jack Atwater, besides two other boys from the
East Side Y. M. C. A. Miss Westcott, the Guardian of the Camp Fire
Girls, asked that they might be allowed to join, making eight in all.’
“I caught him by the hand, and I said:
“‘Harvey Bigelow, I take off my hat to you. I never liked you so well in
my life.’
“He blushed awfully and seemed embarrassed, but he simply said:
“‘Don’t you think it about time that I became in earnest over something
in life? The opportunity presented itself and I grasped it—that’s all.’
“Well, to make a long story short, several of these boys are desirous of
going West next summer and spending their vacations instead of East, and
he called to ask me about the Muskingum Camp. He is going there, Kate,
and he’ll be near us. I made him write to Mr. Adams—your father’s
man—who did everything for us, and ask him to reserve a place for the
Scouts. I’m just wild for summer to come. I’m going to bring Mother and
Grandmother. Grandmother will visit Aunt Susan, and Mother can spend her
time between Aunt Susan’s, your house, and the Camp. She doesn’t say
much but I really think the change is a relief to her—poor dear little
mother. I was the selfish juggernaut who made her sacrifice everyone for
me. I realize it now, and thank God it’s not too late to mend.
“I am doing finely at college. I should like to form from some of my
class another Company of Camp Fire Girls, but the trouble is they are
too busy with study. They say that they’re worn out when summer comes
and have to go away to rest, but they intend to join during their third
year. Then it won’t be such a continuous _grind_ as it is now.
“I am so glad that I had the good sense to start in college. I intend to
be self-supporting after I graduate. I consider it a glorious thing for
an unmarried woman—don’t you?
“Well, dear, I must close. Kiss Uncle John, etc.”
That was great news for Kate—that Harvey Bigelow should have become a
man. It was too good to be true. She sent the letter to Aunt Susan, whom
she knew would be interested in it.
“I tell you, Ethel is made of good stuff!” ejaculated Uncle John. “She
was in the right church but in the wrong pew—that’s all.”
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