FINDING HER PLACE
In each corridor was a set of the Japanese gongs, and Beth Baldwin lay
awake the next morning and listened to the electrically rung bells
beginning at the top of the great house and in both wings, and repeated
all down the line. They were mellow bells and pleasant to hear--and
Beth did not mind rising at seven o’clock.
Although lessons did not begin until Monday, and not more than half
the girls had yet arrived, the discipline of the school began on this
Saturday morning. Breakfast was at eight; prayers three-quarters of
an hour later. After this general gathering in the general hall, Beth
found her way to the office, and to her first interview with the
principal of Rivercliff.
Miss Hammersly was of small stature like her mother. But there was
scarcely anything else in the principal’s appearance, Beth thought,
that reminded the new pupil of the stern and military madam.
Miss Hammersly had curly hair, it is true, as had her mother. Possibly
she might have been very pretty as a girl; but the duties and trials of
her position had marred her forehead with lines of care, and had tinged
her hair with gray. She had very bright eyes like the madam’s own; but
they often softened and became dreamy as she spoke--the eyes of a truly
imaginative person.
Imagination was the root of Miss Hammersly’s success. Had she not
possessed it, and in abundance, she could never have brought this great
school (and that twenty years before) to a standard of excellence quite
remarkable.
Fortunately, she had obtained the patronage of wealthy people from the
start. Without sacrificing her standard of excellence that put her
graduates considerably above those from other preparatory schools of
the State, Miss Hammersly managed to satisfy the parents of girls on
whom much more money than was good for them was spent.
Not that all her pupils’ parents were like Maude Grimshaw’s. Miss
Hammersly had to coax Maude and her kind along the thorny paths of
learning. Yet some of the brightest girls at the school were daughters
of extremely wealthy people. Wealth was not a barrier which it was
impossible to hurdle!
“I wrote to your principal at the Hudsonvale high school,” Miss
Hammersly said to Beth Baldwin, “and he gave me an excellent report
of you. He likewise tells me that you are striving to earn a part of
the money to pay for your courses here at Rivercliff. Is this so, Miss
Baldwin?”
“Yes, Miss Hammersly,” Beth said, rather flutteringly.
“I am glad to have such independent girls as you with us,” the lady
said, smiling kindly. “We have too many of the ‘parasite’ class in this
world. Welcome to the producer! Be something and do something in the
world; that is a good motto.
“There are ways open to bright girls to earn money, not only in
vacation time, but during the semester. Later, when you have proved
your ability, there may be pupil teaching. Some of our primary pupils
are not forward children and they need the encouragement of older
girls. I shall be glad to make use of you in this way, Elizabeth
Baldwin, if you prove yourself capable.”
The lady spoke very kindly to Beth all through this interview,
evidently wishing to convince the new pupil that she was just as
welcome to Rivercliff School as those girls from wealthier homes. Yet
Beth had already gained an impression that the tone of the school was
one of fashion and idle show.
At prayers, better than at breakfast, Beth had been able to gain a view
of the school--or of such of its membership as was present--and she
saw that there was scarcely a girl among them all as plainly dressed as
she.
Even Molly Granger seemed very fancifully clothed beside Beth. Beth’s
traveling dress was a very good one. As she had confessed to Molly,
that, and the poplin she had worn to Larry Haven’s party, were her two
best gowns. The other frocks Mrs. Baldwin had made for her daughter
were of good wearing material, but inexpensive.
“My, but you look like a quiet little brown mouse!” Molly had said that
morning, when she saw Beth dressed to go down to breakfast.
And even that pleasant comment was a criticism, Beth now realized. This
was truly a new world to her. She had no idea that girls from fourteen
to eighteen could be so fashionable.
There was a rustle of silk petticoats as the girls took seats beside
her in the hall; the laces displayed were real; the ribbons flaunted
were of the very best quality; and almost every girl she saw wore more
or less jewelry.
Beth tried the effect of Larry’s present at the collar of her simple
gingham when she went back to Number Eighty after her interview with
Miss Hammersly, and saw immediately that the pin did not go at all with
such a frock. Even Larry knew more about what girls wore at a school
like Rivercliff than she and her mother had known! It was a very
pretty pin; but to wear it with a gingham dress was certainly not the
thing.
Jolly Molly said nothing to her about her appearance save that first
comment. But Beth began to be afraid that her commonplace garments
would shame her new chum before the other girls. Molly did not dress
in such expensive gowns as many of the girls; but her seven aunts
certainly did not restrict their niece to plain clothing. Beth saw her
chum’s two trunks unpacked in wonder.
It did not take Beth long to unpack her trunk. It was a small affair
at best, and she had had hard work to find enough to fill it properly
before leaving home. She hung her dresses in the closet very quickly
and shut the door. She was actually ashamed to have Molly or any of the
other girls examine her possessions.
The girls were continually running back and forth from room to room,
chattering and displaying their new possessions, and having a good time
generally. For, there being no lessons on this day, there was naturally
more freedom allowed than usual.
Molly, Beth found, had a wealth of ornaments, photographs, pennants,
Indian beadwork, a real Navajo blanket, cushions galore, and a
multitude of other articles for the adornment of Number Eighty-one.
Many of these possessions she had left in the school storeroom during
the vacation months, and now brought them forth.
Beth had brought with her photographs of the home folk, of course.
She had also her own pretty toilet set and various nicknacks that she
fancied particularly. But Number Eighty looked like a poor place indeed
beside Molly’s room.
“Oh, it takes a year or two at school for a girl to collect sufficient
‘lares and penates’ for her room to look real homey,” declared Molly,
when Beth mentioned this difference in the appearance of their rooms.
“It’s really scarcely worth while my spreading around my poor little
possessions,” laughed Beth. “There are not enough of them to make a
show in this big room.”
“Quite true, Miss Baldwin,” drawled a voice at the open door of Number
Eighty. “And, therefore, before you unpack any more of your things I’ve
a proposal to make to you.”
“Hullo! here’s Princess Fancyfoot,” muttered Molly Granger.
“Good morning, Miss Grimshaw,” said Beth, placidly, to the girl from
across the hall.
“I want you to know my friend, Miss Laura Hedden,” went on Maude, with
a most patronizing air. “Miss Baldwin, Laura.”
Laura was a very dark girl--as dark as Maude was fair. Instead of
having Beth’s brilliant brunette coloring, however, Laura had a muddy
complexion. Her straight hair was black and her sharp eyes suspicious.
She had not a word to say for herself, but nodded to Beth rather
sullenly.
“We’ve come to talk to you, Miss Baldwin,” said Maude Grimshaw, looking
significantly at Molly.
“Cracky-me!” cried the latter. “Is anything you have to say ever a
secret, Maude?”
“Not if you get hold of it, Molly,” said the other girl, promptly.
“That is why I have inquired of Miss Baldwin if we may speak with her
alone.”
“Well, I declare!” ejaculated Molly, and before Beth could interfere
her chum had flounced into the passage between the two rooms and banged
shut the door.
“Now that you have driven my friend away,” Beth said, rather sharply,
“perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me what you want, Miss
Grimshaw?”
“Shut that door behind you, Laura,” said Maude, looking at the hall
door by which she and her friend had just entered. “She may come around
to listen if it is open. Oh, Miss Baldwin, don’t look at me in that
way. We know Molly Granger rather better than you do, I fancy. I
understand that you only met her on the boat coming up to school?”
“That is true,” admitted Beth, quietly.
“So Brownie said. Well! we know Molly. Don’t we, Laura?”
“Oh! don’t we!” echoed the dark girl, and immediately Beth guessed that
Laura Hedden must be one of the “Me toos” of whom Molly had spoken. She
was Maude Grimshaw’s satellite.
“Is--is it Molly you have come to speak about?” asked Beth. “For if it
is, I shall call her in. I would not discuss any friend in such a way
as this.”
Maude laughed, but her pale eyes flashed. “Oh, no. It is your own
affairs of which I wish to speak.”
“Thank you for your interest, Miss Grimshaw,” said Beth. “But I do not
understand.”
“Well!” exclaimed the rather exasperated Maude. “You came up the river
with another girl--a girl whom the madam has hired as maid. Isn’t that
so?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a friend of yours, of course?”
“Cynthia? Certainly.”
“Then I presume--by that and other unmistakable marks--that you are
not from very well-to-do people, Miss Baldwin?” demanded Maude,
complacently.
“My father earns three dollars and seventy-five cents a day; my mother
made my dresses; I expect to pay for a part of my tuition here by some
work--of what kind I do not yet know.” Beth said it all defiantly, her
black eyes flashing.
“Quite so,” Maude rejoined, as though all this was pleasing to her.
“Very commendable on your part, I’m sure, too, Miss Baldwin. And I can
show you how you may at once aid yourself--and nobody be the wiser.”
Beth looked at her curiously, but said nothing.
“I have always wanted one of my friends to have Number Eighty,” Maude
hurried on to say. “I’d like to get Eighty-one for another, too; but
Molly Granger is a regular dog in a manger. You, however, have more
sense, I should suppose.”
“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw,” said Beth, but in a tone that did not seem
entirely grateful.
“Now, you see what we’re after, Miss Baldwin,” said Maude, coolly. “I
want you to exchange rooms with Laura. Really, she has a very nice room
in the other wing; but she is too far away. She is quite necessary
to my comfort--really, she is,” continued the girl. “And I am sure
you will find the girls over there quite as pleasant as those on this
corridor.”
“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw. I do not care to change,” Beth said, quite
calmly. “Of course, you will excuse me?”
“But you haven’t heard my proposal yet,” Maude hastened to say. “I
expect to pay you for the accommodation. One doesn’t get something for
nothing in this world--I have found that out!” and she laughed rather
scornfully.
“I do not understand you,” said Beth, sharply.
“Why, you will do something or other for money to help pay your tuition
here. I don’t suppose it much matters what as long as it is not too
hard. We have had girls like you at Rivercliff before, Miss Baldwin.
Miss Hammersly rather prides herself upon having about so many each
year, I believe,” she added, carelessly.
“Still I do not understand you!” cried Beth again, her eyes flashing.
“No? Really? I fancied I spoke plainly enough. I will pay you for the
exchange you make with Laura, Miss Baldwin,” said Maude, rather sharply.
“I do not care to make the exchange.”
“But I will pay you for it--don’t you understand?” demanded the other
girl, exasperated.
“You cannot pay me for it--for I refuse,” said Beth. “I like this room.
I like my neighbors--all but you, Miss Grimshaw. I do not care to make
the exchange. Now, am I plain enough?”
“My goodness me!” giggled Maude, her pale face suddenly reddening in
a very ugly way. “Nobody would call you pretty I should hope, Miss
Baldwin.”
“Then I am quite understood?” repeated Beth, ignoring this remark.
“I suppose you think your room is worth more than we can afford to
pay?” sneered Maude.
“You have struck it--exactly,” said Beth, with flashing eyes. “You
think that I have a price,” she continued. “Perhaps you have been in
the habit of dealing with girls who will sell anything they possess for
money. I have made Molly my friend. If I exchanged in this way it would
look as though I did not appreciate her friendship----”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Maude. “You don’t know her as well as we do. Does
she, Laura?”
“I should say not,” sniffed the “Me too.”
“I am glad I do not know Molly in the way you seem to think you know
her,” Beth said, so angry that her voice shook now. “Will you please
go? The room will remain mine as long as Miss Hammersly allows me to
keep it.”
“Oh, come on!” snapped Maude, finally, grabbing Laura Hedden by the arm
and marching with her out of Number Eighty.
Beth was glad to see her go; but she wanted a few moments to recover
herself. This was an unexpectedly unpleasant incident, and the girl
from Hudsonvale shed tears over it--and shed them frankly. As the door
had closed she had heard a muttered “show such girls their place.”