MISS STEEL.
With the wonderful powers of recuperation which natures like Molly's
have, on Sunday morning she was up and dressed, almost dancing about her
room in the infirmary, long before it was time for Dr. McLean to call
and grant her permission to leave.
It was good to be up and well again; it was good to be at college, for
she had been homesick for Wellington since she had been shut up in the
hospital, and better still, it was good to have friends, such friends as
she had.
As for the emerald ring--a shadow darkened her face. The thought of the
emerald ring would push its way into her mind.
"I believe it will come out all right," she said to herself. "I believe
it--I believe it! I couldn't help losing it, and if it isn't found, I
can't help that, either. I just won't be miserable, that's all. I feel
too happy and too well."
"Are you at home to visitors this morning, Miss Brown?" asked a sharp
unmusical voice at the door.
"Oh, yes; do come in," answered Molly, rising to meet Miss Steel, who
had walked up the uncarpeted steps and along the echoing corridor
without making a sound, as usual.
Molly's manners were unfailingly cordial to visitors, and when she shook
hands with Miss Steel and insisted on making her take the armchair, that
flint-like person visibly softened a little and faintly smiled. Molly
wondered why the sanitary inspector had called on her, but she
appreciated attentions from anybody and was as grateful for being
popular as if it were something entirely new and strange to her.
She showed Miss Steel her flowers and pinned a lovely pink rose on the
inspector's granite-colored cloth coat. She made light of her illness,
and rejoiced that she was returning in a few hours to dear old Queen's.
She was, in fact, so wonderfully sweet and charming that Sunday morning
that it must have been very difficult even for the stony inspector to
touch on the real business of her visit.
At last, however, Miss Steel buckled on her armor of decision, averted
her eyes for a moment from Molly's glowing face and plunged in.
"I don't suppose, Miss Brown, you suspected my title of 'Dormitory
Inspector' here was merely a nominal one, and that I had another motive
in being at Wellington College?"
Molly hardly liked to tell her that they had long considered her a spy
and detested her for that reason. She said nothing, therefore, and sat
in her favorite position when listening intently with her hands clasping
one knee and her shoulders drooping; a very wrong position indeed,
considering that it would eventually make her round-shouldered and
hollow chested; but Molly was never more graceful or comfortable than
when she adopted this unhealthful attitude.
"I am an inspector," went on the other, "but I am an inspector of
police, that is, a detective. Doubtless you have heard of certain
mysterious things that have happened at Wellington this autumn; the
attempt to burn the gymnasium, which we now believe was only a practical
joke to frighten the sophomore class; the cutting of the electric
wires one night, and there are a few other things you have not heard;
for instance, Miss Walker has received lately several anonymous
letters--two of them about you----"
Molly started.
"About me?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," said Miss Steel, watching her closely. "But they were not
disagreeable letters, strange to say, since anonymous letters usually
are. They expressed the most ardent admiration for you. They mentioned
that you had enemies who were trying to ruin your reputation."
"How absurd!" exclaimed Molly indignantly. She detested anything
deceitful and underhand with all her soul. "When did these letters
come?"
"Just since you have been at the Infirmary."
"They must be about the emerald ring," broke in Molly.
"Exactly," answered the inspector. "You have lost a valuable emerald
ring belonging to another girl who is making it disagreeable for you."
"But I didn't want to take care of her ring," protested Molly. "She
insisted on it. It was too big for my finger, and when I fainted it
must have slipped off. I've done everything I could to find it, but she
needn't worry. She'll be paid for it, if two acres of good apple orchard
that were to have paid my college expenses have to go."
"Nonsense, child!" exclaimed Miss Steel, suddenly melting into a human
being. "I'm going to find that ring for you if it takes the rest of this
winter."
Molly seized her hand joyfully. By one of those swift flashes of insight
which come to us when we least expect them, it was revealed to Molly
that she had made a friend of the inspector.
"I have been here almost a month," continued Miss Steel, giving the
girl's hand a little vicelike squeeze, which was her way of expressing
cordiality, "and I have found out a great many things. A girls' college
is a strange place. There is a good deal of wire-pulling and petty
jealousy among a certain class of girls, and yet I have reason to know
that the code of honor here is exceedingly high, and I find myself
growing more and more interested in the girls and their lives. Nowhere
but in college could such devoted friendships be formed. They are
elevating and fine, especially for selfish girls, who learn how to be
unselfish by example. The girls develop each other. Your G. F. Society,
for instance, has had a remarkably refining and, shall I say, quieting
effect on Miss Andrews----"
Molly started. She was amazed at the inspector's insight into the
college life.
"Which brings me to the point I have been aiming to reach. Since I have
been here I have taken pains to learn the history of Miss Andrews as
well as to study her character. She is a strange girl. Doubtless you
know the incident of last year?"
Molly shook her head.
"To begin at the beginning: Miss Andrews' parents were rather strange
people. Her father is a city politician who never made any secret of his
grafting methods. Her mother was an actress and is dead. Frances hadn't
been brought up to any code of honor. She had been allowed to do as she
chose, and had all the money she wanted to spend. If she is vulgar and
pretentious, it isn't really her fault. Last year she offended her class
by telling a falsehood. She was under honor, according to the custom
here when a student leaves the premises, to be back from some visit by
ten o'clock Sunday night. She missed the ten o'clock train and took the
train which arrived at midnight. However, as luck would have it, the
ten o'clock train was delayed by a washout and drew into Wellington
station just in front of the train Frances was on. She, of course, found
this out immediately, and taking advantage of it, she gave out that she
had been on the earlier train, which saved all unnecessary explanations.
It must have been a great temptation for a girl brought up as she had
been. But truth always comes to the top, sooner or later, and as the
President of her own class happened to have been on the earlier train,
she was found out. She was summoned by the Student Council, tried and
found guilty. Then she was treated, I imagine, something in the same way
that a French soldier is expelled from the army. Figuratively speaking,
her sword was broken and her epaulettes torn from her uniform!"
"How terrible!" exclaimed Molly.
"Yes; it was pretty severe. But she was very defiant, and said dreadful
things, denounced her class and college. Few girls would have had the
courage to return to college next year, but she came back, hoping to
live her dishonor down, and when she found her class to a member ignored
her very existence, she became almost insane with bitterness and rage,
and having studied her character closely, I judge that for a while,
until your secret society took her in hand, she was hardly responsible
for her actions.
"Now, Miss Walker is very sorry for Frances Andrews; but she considers
her a dangerous element in college, and at mid-years she would like some
definite reason for asking her not to come back. I am speaking plainly,
because Miss Walker is convinced that you know a definite reason and
through some mistaken idea of kindness, you keep it to yourself. In
fact, Miss Brown, Miss Walker is convinced that you and you alone saw
Frances Andrews cut the wires in the gymnasium that night."
"But I didn't," cried Molly, much excited; "or, rather, it wasn't Miss
Andrews."
Miss Steel looked at her in surprise, so sure was she that Molly would
confirm her suspicions.
Molly sat down again and clasped her knees with her long arms. Her
cheeks were crimson and her eyes blazing.
"Who was it, then?" asked the inspector.
"I can't tell you that, Miss Steel. If I should give you the girl's name
I should be dishonored all my life. I have been brought up to believe
that the one who tells is as low as the one who did the deed. When we
were children, my mother would never listen to a telltale. I do think it
was a wicked, mischievous thing to have done--a contemptible thing; but
I'd rather you found out the name of the girl in some other way than
through me, especially right now----"
"Why right now?"
But Molly would not reply.
Miss Steel could see nothing but truth in the depths of Molly's troubled
blue eyes. She took the girl's hand in her's and looked at her gravely.
"You are a fine girl, Miss Brown," she said, "and if you tell me
that the girl who cut the wires was not Miss Andrews, I believe you
implicitly. Of course, Miss Walker would never tell Miss Andrews not to
return to Wellington without something very definite and tangible on
which to base her dismissal. Luke Andrews, the girl's father, is as
hot-headed and high tempered as his daughter, and he would probably make
a great deal of trouble and cause a great deal of publicity if Frances
were asked to leave college quietly."
"I'm sorry for her," said Molly. "I think she might have been helped if
she had had just a little more time. After all, the worse thing about
her is her bringing up."
"And this other girl whom you are shielding, Miss Brown, does she
deserve so much generosity from you?"
Molly closed her lips firmly.
"That isn't the question with me, Miss Steel," she said at last. "The
question is: could I ever show my face again if I told."
"But no one need ever know, that is, no one but the President and me."
"You don't understand," said Molly wearily. "It's with me, you see. I
could never be on comfortable terms with myself again. I should always
be thinking that I hadn't behaved--well, like a gentleman."
Then the inspector did a most surprising thing. She went over and kissed
Molly.
"I wouldn't for worlds keep you from being true to yourself, my child,"
she exclaimed. "It's a rare quality, and one which will make you devoted
friends all your life, because people will always know they can trust
you."
Molly looked at the inspector, and lo and behold, a strange
transformation had taken place in that inscrutable, expressionless face.
The cold gray eyes were softened by a mist of tears and the thin lips
were actually quivering. She looked almost beautiful at that moment, and
Molly suddenly put her arms around her neck and laid her head on the
flat, hard chest.
"You'll forgive me, won't you, Miss Steel?"
"I will, indeed, dear," answered the other, patting Molly's cheek. "And
now, don't bother about all this business. Get well and strong. Don't
overwork, and I promise to find that ring for you if I have to turn the
college upside down to do it."
Then she gave Molly a warm, motherly squeeze, kissed her on the forehead
and took her departure as quietly as she had come.