True to their word the five Travelers left Hamilton Arms at a quarter to
nine o’clock in order to spend a little time with Miss Remson before
retiring. On the way to Wayland Hall the letter written by the master of
the Arms in the heyday of his youth to the Marquis de Lafayette, his
mature counsellor and friend, formed the chief topic of conversation.
“One might call that letter the cornerstone of Hamilton,” Leila said
thoughtfully.
“Yes,” chimed in Vera. “Lafayette seems to have been the favored
confidant of Mr. Brooke’s magnificent idea. At that time many of the
country’s ablest men did not believe in the higher education for women.
He was unique for those days.”
“It was because he loved his mother so dearly that he could understand
what a college would mean in the training of girls,” was Robin’s sober
conjecture. “I hope he copied the letter and sent it.”
“Oh, I am sure he sent it,” Marjorie sprang into ready defense of her
idol. “I imagine he always tried to finish whatever he set out to
accomplish. Otherwise he could never have become the founder of Hamilton
College.
“It seems strange to hear read a letter from one great man of long ago
to another. Lafayette seems longer ago in time than he really was. My
uncle has a letter which was written by George Washington. It describes
a horse Washington offered a certain man for sale. The horse’s name was
Magnolia. My uncle bought the letter from a dealer in rare books and
letters. I’ll write him and ask him to send me a typed copy of it,”
Robin volunteered.
“Do; then I shall believe that Washington was no fairy tale. When I was
a little girl didn’t I believe that he belonged in an American fairy
tale? It was my old nurse who told me that he was an American king who
had cut down one hundred cherry trees at a stroke and who went to war in
an invisible coat of mail so that he was never hurt. She had ideas of
her own about him.” Leila gave an enjoying chuckle.
It was the signal for more chuckles from her companions. It was
difficult to say which was more diverting, Leila’s droll remarks, or her
inimitable manner of making them.
A brief lull in the conversation followed laughter. Marjorie broke it.
She said with sudden irrelevance: “I’m not curious to know Miss
Susanna’s grievance against the Board. I only wish it could be adjusted.
It doesn’t seem right that Mr. Brooke Hamilton, who gave his time and
heart and soul and spirit to such a noble enterprise, should remain a
mystery. Miss Susanna feels so about it at times. She has said so to me.
But there are more times when she doesn’t; when she thinks only of her
own grievance,” Marjorie ended ruefully.
“That’s the most I ever heard you say on such a ticklish subject,
Beauty.” Seated beside her in the tonneau, Leila laid a light hand over
one of Marjorie’s.
“I don’t know whether it is the most I’ll ever say, or not,” Marjorie
responded. “I’d rather not say it to Miss Susanna, but I would if I felt
that I should,” she continued with honest conviction.
Kathie, occupying one of the small seats of the tonneau, now leaned
forward. “Professor Wenderblatt told me the other day that there had
been several changes made in Board members since Miss Susanna’s
disagreement with them. I wonder if she knows it?” she said
speculatively. “If she doesn’t, and were to be told of it, perhaps it
might make a difference in her attitude.”
“I’ve never mentioned the Board to her. She has always spoken of it
first to me, and then not often. I’m sure it would displease her if I
were to speak of it first to her. It’s too hard a matter for me to
decide just now. She’s been generous to Hamilton through us in the way
Mr. Brooke would have been. I couldn’t bear to displease her. It would
seem so ungrateful. On the other hand, there’s our Alma Mater. We
children should stand bravely for her welfare,” Marjorie reasoned
loyally.
“I believe it will all work out for the best.” Katherine was steadily
hopeful of tone. “I think what Epictetus said about such conditions is
consoling. He said: ‘Do not choose to have all things happen as you
would have them happen, but rather choose to have them happen as they
will. Then shall the current of your life flow free.’”
“Thank you, Kathie.” Marjorie’s half pensive features brightened
wonderfully. “That’s an inspiring quotation, and I shall learn it this
instant so as to have it handy to cheer me when I need to be ‘chirked’
up, as Delia our maid says. Please repeat it, and slowly.”
Katherine obligingly repeated the quotation several times. Marjorie
repeated it softly after her. Leila was so busy leaning forward, talking
in Robin’s ear she did not hear it.
“All passengers kindly get out of this car and walk. Step lively.”
Vera’s voice, raised to a mild shout, broke in upon the bit of
memorizing the two were earnestly engaging in. She had brought the
roadster to a stop before the main gates of the campus and was now
cheerfully inviting her companions to vacate it.
“A nice way to take us out to ride,” Leila grumbled. “Are we not good
enough to be carried to our own doorstep? What a treacherous disposition
you have, Midget. Now I have found you out, and in time. I thank my
stars.” Leila left the car in her most leisurely manner.
“Oh, hurry up, slowpoke,” giggled Vera, taking hold of Leila’s arm to
forward her progress from the car to the drive. “Robin likes my
disposition. She hasn’t found me out yet. She and I are going to take
the car to the garage. Anybody else want to go, too?”
“Not I. I know when I’m unwelcome.” Leila tossed her head with a haughty
air.
Katherine and Marjorie, far from resenting the sudden order to “get out
and walk” were already strolling slowly up the drive. Leila turned her
back on Vera with a great show of scorn and overtook the strolling two.
They found Miss Remson on the veranda, seated in a large willow rocker
which made her appear unusually small.
“Back at last,” she greeted in her lively tones. “What cheer? Was it
dinner at Baretti’s or tea at Miss Hamilton’s?”
“Miss Susanna had a late tea on purpose for us,” Marjorie replied. “Life
has been one glorious succession of eats today since I got off the train
at Hamilton station.” This with an accompanying sigh of utter
well-being.
“Don’t forget the spread,” the little manager reminded. “It’s ready.”
“So are we,” declared Katherine brightly, “or we shall be when Vera and
Robin come from the garage.”
“No true Hamiltonite could resist a ten o’clock spread even if she had
been lunched, toasted and tea’d,” Marjorie cheerily asserted.
“No one could resist Ellen’s cream cake, either. I know that,”
supplemented Kathie.
Vera and Robin presently returned and the quintette accompanied Miss
Remson into the dining room where the “ten o’clock spread” awaited them.
There was not only Ellen’s delicious cream cake but dainty sandwiches
and fruit salad as well. Though none of them were actually hungry, a
spread was a spread on any occasion and therefore not to be passed by.
As they sat about one of the smaller tables, enjoying the little
good-night feast, Miss Remson said with a kind of hesitating abruptness:
“Girls, I have broken my rule of rules for the first time since I
undertook the management of Wayland Hall. I have accepted a freshman far
in advance of the regular opening of the Hall.”
Interest flashed strongly into five pairs of eyes fixed on Miss Remson.
The grim set of the little woman’s jaw indicated her evident displeasure
with herself at the departure from her few iron-clad rules. With the
half chagrined admission came to each girl simultaneously a remembrance
of the stranger they had seen in the late afternoon when leaving the
Hall for Hamilton Arms.
“Do you mean the girl who came here this afternoon in a taxi as we were
starting for the Arms?” Vera lifted the silence that had ensued after
the manager’s remarks.
“She is the one I mean.” Miss Remson nodded slowly and without
enthusiasm.
“The fairy-tale princess!” Marjorie exclaimed involuntarily, then
laughed.
“She had that look, I grant you,” Leila agreed. “Only it’s from Paris
she comes, and not out of a fairy tale.”
“Correct, Leila. She arrived at New York City yesterday on a French
steamer, and came straight from New York to Hamilton. Early last spring
her father wrote me, applying for admission for her at the Hall to begin
with the week before the opening of college and during her college year,
provided she should pass her entrance examinations. Instead of abiding
by the agreement which I made with him her father has sent her to the
Hall several weeks too soon. There is nothing to be done in the matter
save to allow her to remain. She tells me that her father sailed for
Africa several days before she sailed for the United States. He joined
an exploring expedition up the Amazon River.” Miss Remson’s face
registered her disapproval in the matter.
“Don’t worry, Miss Remson,” Marjorie comforted. “We will take this
would-be freshie under our august P. G. wings and bring her up a credit
to Hamilton.”
“The five Travelers to the rescue!” promised Robin with a wave of the
hand.
Leila, Vera and Katherine were equally ready to extend a welcoming hand
to the stranger from across the sea. Miss Remson surveyed her guests, a
bright smile gradually driving away her annoyed expression.
“You girls are more hospitable than I. I ought to be ashamed of myself.
I must try to live up to you.” She paused, then proposed: “Suppose you
go to her room and invite her to the spread? She has number 8.”
“You’re a jewel, Miss Remson.” Vera patted one of the manager’s hands.
“Nothing like social eats to promote acquaintance,” nodded Robin.
“Come on.” Leila was already half way to the door. “Let us visit our
would-be in a body and speak to her as with one voice. What shall we
say, so that we may all say the same, and not gabble at her like geese?”
“I don’t fancy the concert invitation plan,” Vera objected. “You do the
inviting, Marjorie. You’ve a wonderful way with you.”
“So have I,” Leila hastily assured Vera. “Never forget that, Midget. I
will praise myself rather than not be praised.”
Laughing and joking the five post graduates hurried lightly up the
stairs and down the second floor hall to room number 8. Nor when Vera
knocked lightly on the door had it been decided as to which one of them
should be spokesman.
The girl who answered the knock seemed lovelier to her callers than when
they had seen her alighting from the taxicab that afternoon. She wore a
pale primrose negligee which fell in straight soft folds to her feet.
Its flowing sleeves dropped away from her white, rounded arms and the
collarless cut of the negligee brought out the beauty of her shapely
throat. Her peculiarly colored eyes roved from one face to another. They
held a certain veiled inquiry not far from insolence. She was silent;
evidently waiting for her callers to speak first.
“Good evening.” While Marjorie had not consented to begin the making of
friendly overtures with the prospective student she felt impelled to
break the silence. “We are having a spread downstairs in the dining
room. Miss Remson is giving it. Won’t you join us?” she invited with
pleasant directness.
“Oh, no, thank you. You could hardly expect me to come down _en
deshabille_.” Contempt for invitation and callers lurked faintly in the
answer; a contempt which the girls felt rather than heard.
“That need make no difference,” Marjorie composedly returned. “There are
no persons other than ourselves and the servants in the house. You know
how purely informal a spread must be in order to be a success.”
“I don’t enjoy spreads,” came the indifferent reply. “Besides sweets
late in the evening are so hard on one’s complexion.” One of the blonde
girl’s white, beautifully kept hands found the door and rested against
the knob. Whether by accident or design was hard to say.
“I am sorry you do not care to come,” Marjorie said with the gentle
courtesy which never seemed to fail her in the face of rebuff. “Pardon
me for being so remiss. Let me introduce my friends and myself to you.
Miss Remson has told us that you are Miss Monroe.”
The indifferent expression on the girl’s face appeared to increase
rather than diminish. She merely stared at the group and said not a
word. Marjorie felt uncomfortable embarrassment seize her. Nevertheless
friendliness continued in her tone as she named her chums to the other
girl. Miss Monroe had the grace to acknowledge the introduction. She
nodded carelessly to each girl in turn, the air of furtive contempt
which had visited her at sight of the callers returning.
“We should be glad to show you about Hamilton and the campus,” Vera
rallied to Marjorie’s assistance. “We are visiting Miss Remson for a
short time. We shall return to college in the fall and shall live at
Wayland Hall. So we shall be your neighbors. Miss Harper’s and my room
is 10. We are using our old room now, and it will be ours again when we
come back in the fall.”
“I expect to try for the sophomore class.” Miss Monroe crested her
golden head. “I hope to escape the odious freshman class. I detest the
bare idea of being kept down. Thank you for your offer to show me
about.” She favored Vera with an inconsequential smile.
“You are welcome.” Vera tried to keep reserve out of the response. She
did not enjoy being snubbed, either.
“You are sure to like Wayland Hall. It is the oldest and has been
reckoned as the favorite house on the campus.” Leila now broke into the
conversation. “All of us except Miss Page have lived here since we
entered Hamilton. We are P. G.’s.” Leila gave the information in a
perfectly level tone. There was an inscrutable light in her bright blue
eyes which Miss Monroe did not miss. She colored slightly and hastily
looked away from Leila.
Her remarkable blue-green eyes wandered to Marjorie again and rested
curiously upon her. In that instant’s survey she saw what she had not
yet allowed herself to note. She saw a girl whose claim to great beauty
was as strong as her own. The discovery did not contribute to her
happiness, but she was too clever to allow even a shade of rising
jealousy to cross her beautiful face.
“I suppose ‘P. G.’ stands for post graduate?” she returned with a
questioning inflection. “I really know very little of American colleges.
I am sure I shall find college such a bore. My father insists that I
shall become a student of Hamilton. So tiresome in him!”
The five Travelers still stood in a half circle outside the door. Miss
Monroe had no intention of inviting them in, it appeared.
“We’ve had the very happiest kind of times in college,” Robin was quick
to defend her Alma Mater. “One gets out of college precisely what one
puts into it. You’ll feel differently about it after college opens and
everything is in full swing.”
“If we can help you at any time to feel at home here, or can do anything
for you to add to your welfare, please let us know. We were strangers
here, too, once upon a time.” Marjorie smiled sunnily at discourteous
Miss Monroe. There was finality in her little speech. “Miss Remson will
expect us back,” she said to her companions.
“You are very kind. I daresay I shall get on here.” Miss Monroe moved
her shoulders indifferently. “I prefer France or England to America. Of
course it’s bound to seem very ghastly here for a while.” Sullen
discontent lived for an instant on her pretty features. Marjorie’s
friendly offer seemed to annoy rather than please her.
“Not half so ghastly as though you were condemned to an English private
school for girls.” Leila assured with a flash of white teeth which
appeared the extreme of affability. Her companions read into it another
meaning. They knew if the haughty newcomer did not that Leila was
blandly watching the self-centered girl measure off the rope with which
to hang herself.
“I don’t in the least understand your meaning.” There crept into Miss
Monroe’s voice a decidedly petulant note.
“I know that very well, indeed,” Leila replied with smiling
imperturbability. “I was born in Ireland and half educated in Europe;
partly in England, partly in Paris. The other half, the more important
half of my education I received at Hamilton College. The best I can wish
for you is that you may find at Hamilton what I found. I shall be glad
to make Hamilton seem less ghastly to you, if I can. Good night.”
Leila turned away from the door. Characteristic of her was the virtue of
finality. She could not dwaddle over a situation.
Her retreat was a signal to the other four girls. They made
conscientious effort to say good-night as pleasantly as they had saluted
Miss Monroe. She, on the contrary, began to show a first faint sign of
interest in her callers. Leila’s information caused the Irish girl to
rise in her opinion. She decided that she might be entertained by a
little further talk with her.
“Will you—er—won’t you——?” She spoke directly to Leila’s back as the
latter continued to move slowly down the corridor. Leila did not turn
her head. Marjorie, walking behind her heard and turned her face toward
the girl in the doorway. Again Miss Monroe subjected her to a
protracted, nearly hostile stare. Then she went into her room and closed
the door with a force that was anything but indifferent.