A moment later Dolly had been introduced to Beth’s father
A moment later Dolly had been introduced to Beth’s father
When Dolly found herself actually on the train next day, bound for Philadelphia, she wondered more and more to what kind of a home she was going. Beth grew more quiet and sedate as they neared the city, and the reserved, rather hard expression which she had partially lost of late, was intensified.
As they entered the main gate at the Broad Street Station, a tall, handsome man took Beth’s valise from her hand and bent to kiss her. A moment later Dolly had been introduced to Beth’s father. A carriage was waiting for them outside the station, and as they drove to Beth’s home, Dolly scrutinized Mr. Newby’s features closely, trying hard to find therein the explanation of much that had mystified her in Beth.
He was evidently a man of culture and brains. Dolly could not imagine him in a temper or exhibiting any lack of self-control. Why did he and Beth not chatter morefamiliarly, though? He was asking questions about the college in the same fashion that he might have asked them of Dolly herself, and Beth was replying in the same formal, courteous way. Even Mr. Newby’s kiss of welcome at the station had seemed a perfunctory duty-kiss, not at all like the spontaneous ones given by Dolly’s father.
And Beth could chatter fast enough! Why wasn’t she doing it now? Though, if Dolly had only known it, both Beth and her father were making a great effort to have the conversation lively and animated.
Dolly had gained no light when they reached the pleasant suburban home where the Newbys lived. On the broad veranda she could see a lovely, gracious woman and three children.
They must be Roy, Hugh and Nell, she knew. The carriage drove rapidly up the lawn along the smooth driveway. Mrs. Newby hastened to meet them. She kissed Beth a little wistfully, Dolly thought, and gave Dolly herself a very cordial, hearty welcome. The children were well-mannered and decidedly attractive. Dolly fancied that Roy did notlook very strong. Mrs. Newby took them upstairs presently. She had given the girls adjoining rooms, and went in with them to see that everything was in perfect readiness. The house was roomy and delightful, and Dolly drew in a deep breath of surprise and enjoyment. “How nice your home is, Beth. You funny child, never to have told me anything about it.”
“I’m glad you like it. How about the people in it?”
“How do I like them, do you mean? Why, I have hardly seen them yet, you know, but I think that you must feel proud of your father; and Mrs. Newby has one of the sweetest faces I ever saw. The children seem very nice, and you know how I love children.”
“Yes, I know–well, I am glad if you like us and our home.”
That was all Beth said. Dolly watched quietly and shrewdly. Something was ajar, and she longed to know if it were not something that could be adjusted. Whatever it was, it was spoiling Beth’s life. But she could see nothing. Beth was as reserved as ever, even in her own home. Both of herparents seemed to treat her more as a guest than as a daughter of the house. Her wishes were consulted, and she was deferred to more as a stranger would be, Dolly thought, than as a daughter whose preferences they were supposed to know.
Everyone was polite and courteous. It was not a household that would ever tolerate quarreling or strife. Yet there was something lacking. They all seemed anxious that Dolly should have a good time, and there were many pleasant little plans for her entertainment. Dolly grew to like them all, but she was especially fond of Mrs. Newby. She often wondered why Beth did not adore her stepmother, she was so gracious and kind, so just and generous.
The vacation days passed all too rapidly for the girls. They would go back the next day, and Dolly was no nearer discovering the “rift within the lute” that served to make the music mute, than she had been on the day of her arrival. She concluded that she would never be any wiser, but that evening an incident happened that gave her a glimpse of Beth’s hidden life.
Itwas Nell’s fourth birthday anniversary, and the child was to have a little party in the afternoon; in the evening Mrs. Newby had arranged for a small farewell party for Beth and Dolly. Both affairs would be more or less informal, but they would be none the less enjoyable for that reason. Nell was wild with delight.
Fifteen of her small friends had been sent pretty invitations, and she told everyone of the wonderful birthday cake that Bridget had made, and that would have four little wax candles on it for her to blow out.
“I don’t like that part of the program myself,” Mrs. Newby remarked in a low tone to the two girls. “I am always so afraid of some accident; but I really believe that Nell would feel she had not been given a party at all, if she did not have her birthday cake and her four candles.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Newby,” Dolly said comfortingly. “If you chance to be out ofthe room when the wonderful cake comes in, Beth and I will watch Nell carefully until the candles are extinguished.”
“Thank you, Dolly. I presume I am foolish, but such dreadful things do happen, you know.”
Dolly assented, and then in the bustle of preparations for the two parties, which unfortunately came on the same day, she forgot all about her promise. Afterward, she reproached herself bitterly for her neglect.
The day was bright and sunny. The small folks had had a glorious time, and were now sitting around the table enjoying Nell’s birthday feast. The sandwiches and other substantials had been passed, and Mrs. Newby had gone into the kitchen a moment to see about the ices. Dolly and Beth had been waiting on the little people and enjoying the fun as much as they. The butler brought in the grand birthday cake and put it in front of the small hostess. Then he, too, went into the kitchen. Nell looked at her cake for a few moments in silent rapture, enjoying the exclamations of admiration which she heard from all her little guests. Suddenly it seemedto her, that one of the candles leaned a little to one side. She stretched out her hand to straighten it. Instantly a flame leaped up from the thin white fabric of her sleeves. In a second it had sprung to her curls and the children were shrieking in horror and affright.
In another second Beth had pulled the child from her chair, wrapped a rug around her, and crushed the flames from the pretty curls with her own unprotected hands.
It was all over before Peter had reappeared with the ices, but the cries had reached Mrs. Newby, and with a dreadful premonition she had rushed to the dining-room with her husband, who had returned early from his office, in honor of Nell’s birthday.
As they entered, Beth was unwrapping the rug from Nell. The flames were extinguished and the child was safe, though the fright had completely unnerved her, and she was sobbing hysterically.
Her dainty dress was burned, and her curls were singed in front, but that was the extent of the damage.
Mrs. Newby caught her child to her arms in a gush of unspeakable thankfulness, whileDolly poured out her remorse and sorrow with a flood of tears.
Mr. Newby stood by, looking more shaken than Dolly had ever believed possible for so self-contained a man. He questioned Dolly and Beth closely, and when the full particulars of the accident had been told, he put his arms around Beth and called her his “brave, sensible daughter;” but his voice trembled and Dolly was sure there were tears in his eyes.
Peter waited on the little folks for the remainder of the meal, while Mrs. Newby carried Nell off to change her dress and to look after Beth’s hands. They were badly burned; not seriously, however, and while Beth might suffer considerably from them for two or three weeks, there would probably be no permanent scars. Mr. Newby had insisted on summoning a physician at once, despite Beth’s protests. Her hands had been dressed, and she had been told that she must consent to be waited upon for the next week or two like a baby.
“But I must go back to college tomorrow, Doctor, that is a positive fact.”
Dr. Thornton looked rather grave. “If you are careless, Miss Newby, your hands will be permanently scarred. They should be dressed every day, and you should use them as little as possible.”
“I do not think that I can consent to your going, Beth,” said her father gravely.
“And I cannot consent to staying at home, Father,” Beth returned decidedly. “Dr. Randolph, our college physician, will dress my hands for me every day. I promise to be very careful.”
“If you are willing to have her go,” Dolly said anxiously, “I will do everything that I can for her during the next two or three weeks. I feel as if this were all my fault, anyway, for I had promised Mrs. Newby that I would look after the birthday cake. Then I was attending to something else when it came in and I forgot all about it. If it had not been for Beth–” She stopped shudderingly.
“I know that you would do all you possibly could for Beth,” Mr. Newby said slowly. “Still I do not feel that she ought to go.”
“I must, Father,” and Beth turned away with an air of finality, as if the matter weresettled once for all. Mr. Newby said nothing more at the moment, but he looked far from satisfied. He followed Beth from the room presently, leaving Dolly and his wife alone, for Baby Nell had fallen asleep and the tiny guests had all gone home.
Mrs. Newby turned to Dolly with tears in her eyes. “Elizabeth has saved me from a lifetime of sorrow, but she will not even let me thank her. If she only loved me–” She broke off as if afraid to trust her voice.
Dolly broke in impetuously: “I do not see how anyone can help loving you, Mrs. Newby.”
Mrs. Newby smiled rather sadly. “I cannot blame Beth at all, nor myself, either, for that matter. I believe I will tell you about it, Dolly, if you care to hear. I have never discussed the subject with anyone before, but Elizabeth’s coldness and want of affection have been very hard to bear.”
“Yet you said that you did not blame her, Mrs. Newby?” Dolly said, a little wonderingly.
“And I do not. It is rather strange that I should be mentioning this subject to youat all, when you are such a mere child yet; but you understand Elizabeth, and she seems more like a girl with you than I ever saw her before. I have tried to give her everything that I have fancied she wanted, but there were some things that I could not give her–that she would not let me give her. I do not know whether Elizabeth has ever talked to you about her own mother or not. She must have been a very beautiful woman; she and Elizabeth were passionately devoted to each other. They were always together, and I have been told by the old servants here in the family, that they seldom saw such absolute love as Elizabeth gave her mother. She deserved it, for she was an ideal mother in every respect.” Mrs. Newby stopped and caught her breath. The hardest part of her story was still to be told.
“She caught a cold the fall that Elizabeth was nine years old, and it developed into pneumonia. In a week she was dead. They feared at first that the child, too, would die; but her mother had had a long, loving talk with her after she knew that there was no hope of her recovery. Exactly what she said toElizabeth, of course, no one ever knew, but her Christian faith was one of her most marked characteristics, and she must have succeeded in imparting it to her child in a very vivid manner, for while Elizabeth grieved intensely, her grief was more like one who sorrowed for a person gone on a long journey, than like one bereft by death. Of course, everything that her mother had said or done was sacred in her eyes. She did not like anyone to touch her room, her chair, or any of her belongings. That was all perfectly right and natural. And now, Dolly, comes the hard part of my story. I cannot tell it without seeming to censure my husband, and yet I presume that he thought he was doing all for the best. He and I have never discussed the subject since the first night when I came to this house. I learned the truth then, and I know that I spoke to him very bitterly and harshly. Since then the subject has not been mentioned between us; nevertheless, it has been a cloud on all our married life. I would not be telling you all this so frankly, Dolly, if I did not want you to understand Elizabeth fully, and to help her. She ishonest as the day. I often feel hungry for her affection. I shall never be satisfied without it, but the manner in which I came here rendered it impossible for me to win her love.”
Mrs. Newby paused again, and Dolly waited in growing bewilderment.
“The winter after Elizabeth’s mother died, Mr. Newby went west on business. He met me there. He was lonesome, and we were congenial in many ways. He came west several times, and we became engaged. We were married quietly the next summer. There were no invitations because of my mother’s recent death; we sent announcement cards, but that was all. Of course, I knew that John had been married before, and that he had a daughter. What I did not know was that his wife had been dead less than a year, and that Elizabeth knew nothing of his marriage. Dolly, I believe that many men are cowards in their own families. I cannot imagine why my husband acted as he did. I can see Elizabeth’s startled, shocked face yet, as her father took me into the house and told her that he had brought her a new mother.”
“Hadn’t the servants told her?”
“They did not know of it either, Dolly, as I learned later. The child then was shocked and stunned. She said very little, but I heard her cry herself to sleep that night and countless nights afterward. A little tact would have saved all the trouble. If she had been told kindly and tenderly beforehand, that her father was lonely, and that he was going to bring me here–not to be a mother to Elizabeth–but to be a friend and helper to them both, there would have been no trouble. As it was, the child was too hurt ever to care for me. My chance of winning her affection had been lost. Had things been different, there would have been no trouble. Had she been old enough then to understand matters, I should have told her the truth. But she was too young then. Can you wonder, Dolly, that I felt bitter and heartsick that night? I spoke very angrily to John, and that did not mend matters in the least.”
Dolly slipped her hand into Mrs. Newby’s. “I am so dreadfully sorry, for it all seems to me to have been so needless. I hardly see why Mr. Newby did not tell both you and Beth everything.”
“He was afraid to tell Elizabeth, my dear, for he felt at a disadvantage with her. He did not want to take the time and patience necessary to make her see the subject from his standpoint. In fact, he meant to have his own way, and he did not mean to run any chance of obstacles being placed in his path. He was afraid to tell me the truth for fear I would insist upon delaying our marriage, and I certainly should have done so. Had we waited a little, and had Elizabeth come to visit me first, my married life would have been a very different thing. John had his own way, but I think that he found that it hardly paid in the end. Selfishness does not pay in the long run, Dolly.”
“I wonder, Mrs. Newby, that you never explained things to Beth when she grew older.”
“As I said, Dolly, she was too young at first to tell her the facts of the case. She was merely hurt and heartbroken then. As she grew older and comprehended the situation better, she judged me more harshly. How could she believe I had married her father in less than a year from the time of her mother’sdeath without knowing that fact, and how could she know, too, that I had supposed her to be a mere baby, not older than Nell, at most, whose love could be won after our marriage instead of before, as should have been the case with her? There has never been a time when I felt that I could tell her, and yet, in justice to myself, I wish that she knew.”
“Won’t you tell her now, Mrs. Newby? I do wish you would.”
“It is too late,” Mrs. Newby said despairingly. “One cannot alter the habits and feelings of years at a moment’s notice.”
“But still–”
“Never mind, Dolly, I understand now–for I was guilty of listening. I did it purposely, Mother–I couldn’t help it. Will you forgive me? When I came back, you had commenced to talk to Dolly, and I heard my name. I stopped, for I wanted to hear what you were saying; it was a dreadful thing for me to do, of course, but I’m not a bit sorry. I am awfully stupid to have lived with you all these years, and yet to have supposed you were such a person as I havealways pictured you in my thoughts. I wonder if you are going to forgive me at this late day–”
And then Dolly slipped out of the room, glad to the inmost depths of her heart that things were getting “straightened out” as she phrased it.
Mr. Newby had had two sensitive natures with which to deal in the days gone by, and he had not appreciated the fact in the least. One of the persons had been only a child, and he had not counted on her as being a definite influence at all.Therehe had made a great mistake.
Even after his marriage, however, if he could have had the courage to tell his story frankly to Beth, and confess his loneliness to her, she would have viewed the matter in a different light. Mrs. Newby knew that in his so doing, lay her only hope of winning the child’s heart; but she was proud, too, and if he would not do this voluntarily, she would not beg him to do it. And so, during all these years, for lack of the word never spoken, she and Beth had missed the mutual love and helpfulness which they might have giveneach other, and which would have made their lives so much sweeter and brighter.
Despite the accident of the afternoon, the evening party was a great success, and Beth, much to her open disgust, found herself regarded as something of a heroine.
Once during the course of the evening, Mr. Newby heard Beth address his wife as “Mother.” A new light had come into his eyes at the time, and a look of quiet determination. The look was still there when he sought his wife in the library after their young guests had gone.
Shewas putting the room in order, and he stepped to her side as she stood by the table. “Christine, are matters all right at last between you and Elizabeth?”
“Yes, John, I think that they are.”
“It is all my fault that they have ever been any other way. I was selfish, at first, in my fear lest you would ask me to postpone our wedding day; then, afterward, when I saw what a grave mistake I had made, I was too cowardly to take the blame myself and explain matters to the child as I should have done. There was a sort of tacit deceit on my part, Christine, for which I have paid very bitterly. You have made our home beautiful, but, because of my folly, there has been that one jarring note in it.”
“It is all right now.”
“But no thanks to me. However, I am going to have a talk with Beth yet tonight. I shall not excuse myself; what is the worst thing in my own eyes, Christine, has been mycowardice in not facing the subject fairly long ago and telling Elizabeth that you were not in the least open to censure. The fault was all mine, but I have left you to bear the blame.”
This was so absolutely true that Mrs. Newby made no reply, but she looked at her husband with a very forgiving smile as she laid her hand on his.
“You are an angel, Christine. Some women would never forgive me.”
She laughed a little tremulously. “I know better, my dear, than to expect perfection from a poor, frail man. I am not an angel myself, as you know very well.”
“I don’t know it at all,” he retorted, bending to kiss her. “I hear Elizabeth in the drawing-room. I shall see her before she goes upstairs. Christine, you are perfectly happy now?”
“No,” she replied promptly, and evidently to his surprise.
“Then tell me the trouble at once.”
“I am worried about Roy. He is too young to be sent away to school. I presume it answers very well with some children, but he needs me.”
“But the public schools are so far away from us, dear, and I thought that he was hardly strong enough to stand the strain of the two sessions there. I did not know that you objected to his going. You said nothing, you know, to that effect.”
“You seemed so very sure that it was the right thing to do, and I did not know but it might turn out better than I feared. But he dreads the going back unspeakably. I found him crying about it last night, and I cannot consent to his return.”
“Then he certainly shall not go,” Mr. Newby returned promptly. “But what do you propose to do with him?”
“He can have some private lessons here at home. I shall see that he has enough to do, but not too much. Boys of that age need a mother, John.”
“I presume so,” Mr. Newby returned ruefully. “So far as I can see, I have made a mess of about everything that I have attempted to manage.”
“Don’t slander yourself; I would not let anyone else say that of you, most assuredly, and, besides, it is not true, John.”
“I am not at all sure of that, Christine.” Then he kissed her again, and went in search of Beth, with whom he had a long talk, despite the fact that it was then after midnight.
After all, Beth did not return with Dolly. Mrs. Newby frankly owned that she should feel very anxious if Beth went off to college before her hands had healed, and Beth found herself the next morning watching her stepmother unpack her trunk, while she herself was quite rejoiced over the fact that she should have another week or two at home. So Dolly went back alone.
Beth came ten days later, and Dolly knew, from the expression of contentment and happiness on her face, that she was now enjoying the blessing which a real home and home-love can give.
The term was a busy one for all the girls. They had come to college, for the most part, at least, because they were inspired by a genuine love for knowledge. They had their times of recreation, of course, and their merry evenings in Dolly’s room when they again made fudge and tea. Nevertheless, there was plenty of good, hard work done, and theEaster holidays found them all ready for a brief rest again. Mary went home with Dolly, and Beth would stop for one night on her return to college; but now, strangely enough, as it seemed to Beth herself, she could scarcely wait to get home.
Beth had roomed alone since Margery Ainsworth’s expulsion, and while Dolly often longed to get permission to move her possessions across the hall, and become Beth’s room-mate, she was too truly fond of Mary by this time, to wish to hurt her feelings. So, while the girls often wished that they could room together, it did not seem possible, for the freshmen year at least.
As commencement time drew near, the other students began to make arrangements for the next year. Rooms and room-mates were chosen, and everything gotten into readiness for the ensuing term. Dolly and Beth were talking it over one day, rather lugubriously, in Beth’s room.
“All the other girls have settled their plans, and I have been hoping that Mary would say something to me. She must know that we want to room together. Of course, I like her,but not as much as I like you. I am going to speak to her today, Beth.”
“I really think that that is the only thing left to be done; but we don’t want to hurt her feelings, Dolly.”
“I’ll try not to do that, Beth, but we must settle affairs.”
However, Mary herself introduced the weighty topic that evening, when the three were making tea.
“Of course, I know that you two girls want to room together next year, but I hope that you have not spoken for a room yet.”
Dolly flushed a little. “We would not be very apt to make any arrangements without telling you, Mary. You ought to know that we don’t do underhanded things.”
“Why, Dolly, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings at all, but I supposed you would room together. That was settled long ago, wasn’t it? But I have a little scheme, too, that I trust you will like.”
“Tell us about it,” and Dolly looked a trifle ashamed of her unnecessary heat.
“Aunt Mary has her bedroom and sitting-room, of course, to herself, but opening ontoher sitting-room from the other side is a small storeroom. The president says that I may have that as a bedroom if I wish, and I can use Aunt Mary’s sitting-room. They will fit it up this summer. The college needs more rooms, anyway. Now beyond my room are some lovely rooms for you girls, if you want them. What do you say? I don’t want to be selfish, but it did seem to me that it might be a lovely plan.”
“Lovely? It is grand! Superb! You are a duck and a darling, Mary, to have thought of it.”
“Dolly thinks that she will be near Professor Newton now, and she would be willing to room on the roof to effect that,” said Beth mischievously.
But Dolly was too elated to mind Beth’s teasing. “We’ll make all sorts of pretty things this summer. By the way, Beth, where do you intend to spend the summer, anyway?”
“Father says that Mother and I may decide that weighty matter. We have been in the habit of going to the seashore, but he fancies that some other place would be betterfor Roy, although the child is very much stronger since Mother has had him at home under her eye.”
“Then, Elizabeth Newby, I will tell you what to do. Mother writes that Father has taken the same cottage at the Thousand Isles that we had last year. You must come there, too. We can have an ideal time. Fred likes fishing and yachting. He will be away part of the summer, but will be with us at first, and a crowd of his friends, too. We can have glorious times! Hurrah!”
“Hurrah!” echoed Beth, for the idea caught her fancy. “We shall certainly do it! Mother will agree to whatever I propose. I wish you were to be there, too, Mary.”
But Mary shook her head contentedly. “I know it is much more beautiful than our farm, but I don’t believe that even a sight of the Alps would induce me to miss my visit home.”
“Of course not. But you see, fortunately, Dolly and I mean to take our families along. What a good time we shall have! I wonder if Professor Newton wouldn’t like to make us a little visit? It is beautiful there, andthe ride on the steamers, out and in among the islands on a moonlight night, is as lovely as anything in fairyland.”
“Go and ask her, Dolly, run right off! Someone else may get her promise first!”
“Be still, Beth! Do you think that she would like to go, Mary?”
“I should certainly suppose that she would be delighted. By the way, as we are only insignificant freshies still, and have no receptions or other grand functions on hand like the other classes, she wanted to know if we would spend Tuesday evening with her.”
“Will we? Of course we will! When did she ask us? Why didn’t you tell us before?”
“She gave me the message this afternoon, and you have really not given me a chance to tell it before.”
“What a libel. Say to her that we will go; no doubt of that, is there, Dolly? Let us put on our best gowns and do justice to the occasion. Is anyone else invited, Mary?”
“We are to go immediately after dinner, and a couple of hours later, Miss Hamilton and some fifteen others will arrive. We musthelp entertain them. You know there is nothing special on hand for Tuesday evening.”
“We should go, anyway, no matter where else we were invited,” declared Dolly with decision. “By the way, girls, the year is practically over, and our president still goes on her way serenely, and the very snobbiest girls in the class adore her.”
“I am glad. We don’t want any class rows, and you know very well how Abby Dunbar and Helen Raymond would act, if they knew the truth. Though, after all, I cannot see what difference it makes.”
“Where is she going this summer? Do either of you know?”
“I asked her yesterday. She is going home for three or four weeks with Abby Dunbar. After that, she and her mother are going to some quiet country place.”
Beth gave a sudden laugh. “You know, Mrs. Hamilton never comes to the college, but Margaret goes to see her almost daily. Abby Dunbar must have seen her on the evening of our entertainment, for she told me that she admired Mrs. Hamiltonsomuch; it was such a pity that she was an invalid! Margaret hasnever said that she was an invalid, you know. I suppose Abby just concluded that she must be, because she leads such a quiet life.”
“She does it entirely for Margaret’s sake, I’m sure. Not that Margaret asks her to do it, but she fears to meet people who knew her when she was a servant. Abby approves of her, because she dresses well, and is at the most aristocratic boarding-place in Westover.”
“There is just one thing that I should not do, were I Margaret,” said Beth slowly. “Knowing Abby Dunbar as well as she does, she must be confident that Abby would not take her home, did she know that both of Margaret’s parents had been servants the greater part of their lives. Knowing that, I think that Margaret does wrong to go.”
“Isn’t that a matter of standpoints? Margaret may reason thatsheis the one invited, and that who or what her parents were, need not concern any person save herself. She would not deny the truth if questioned, but she sees no use in advertising it. I must say,” concluded Mary, energetically, “that I agree with her.”
“Well, in her place, my dear, I shouldaccept no invitations except such as I were sure would be given, even if all the facts were known.”
“I hope they will not be known for the next three years, at least. By the way, do you both thoroughly realize that when we return this fall, we shall not be insignificant freshmen, but lofty sophomores? That we shall not be lonely and homesick and have no one to whom to talk, and that we can haze the newcomers?”
The girls laughed.
“What bliss awaits us! By the way, Dolly, you must be our president next year.”
“I don’t know,” began Dolly, but Beth broke in;
“No, she can’t be. Don’t look so surprised; I am wiser now than formerly, and I want Dolly to be president in our senior year. I find that it is an unwritten law that the same person cannot be president during two years. It seems to be the opinion that there is plenty of good material for officers in the class, and that it would be piggish for one person to be president twice. It doesn’t make any difference about the other officers,for they are not so important. I am glad, now, that Margaret Hamilton was elected last fall.”
“And I am glad that you confess it at last, Beth. Listen a moment! Let us go and see what all that hubbub in the hall means. Even for the last week of college, it seems to me there is a dreadful amount of noise.”
“There certainly is, and it behooves us to investigate.”
A louder scream from the hallway made the girls rush out unceremoniously.
Atthe farther end of the corridor, a crowd had gathered, and the three girls hurrying there, found that the commotion issued from Charlotte Graves’s room.
Charlotte was explaining; “It was my exasperating lamp. It has always been wobbly, and tonight, when I chanced to hit the table, it went over. I might have known enough to pull a blanket off the bed, and smother it; but, of course, I just stood here and screamed. Then Margaret Hamilton came in and put it out. That’s what it is to have presence of mind! I always was a fool when there was anything to be done. I tell you what, Miss Hamilton, those freshmen knew what they were doing when they elected you class president. If I’m not brilliant myself, I can recognize a good thing when I see it.”
“Miss Graves, I tell you what you must do in sheer gratitude to the freshmen–invite us all in and get out those delicious cakes and pickles of yours. You ought to treat.”
“That is certainly so, come along, all of you. Sit on the floor if you can’t find any other place to sit,” and after the girls had properly bestowed themselves, she got out her jars and boxes, for Charlotte was fond of good things and always kept an unlimited supply on hand.
“I trust you understand,” she said severely, “that the rest of you freshmen are only here out of compliment to your president. I don’t for a moment consider the rest of you her equal in anything. As she has the misfortune, however, to belong to the class of ’09 instead of ’08, we must put up with the rest of you, I suppose, for her sake.”
There was a chorus of groans from the freshmen, and Charlotte’s voice was drowned in an outburst of animated retorts. Under cover of the fun, Abby Dunbar said to Dolly, who chanced to be sitting next to her on the window ledge; “One can see that Margaret is a true aristocrat. It shows in every move she makes, and every word she says.”
“Do you think so?”
“Why, yes, indeed. Surely you have noticed it? Mamma is always so carefulabout my associates, but she cannot help being perfectly delighted with Margaret. Don’t you like her?”
“I certainly do.”
“I thought you must, for you were so good last fall at the time of our class elections. Margaret has made an ideal president.”
Then the conversation became general again, much to Dolly’s relief. In some way the subject branched off to military men, and Margaret was appealed to.
“Were any of your relatives army men, Miss Hamilton? And don’t you think that they are the finest men in the world?”
“I have not been blessed with many relations, Miss Fox, and so I have not had the chance to have military men in my own family and to know them intimately, as some of you have done. Of course, I admire them. Some of my ancestors were in the wars of 1776 and 1812, but I never saw them. My own father was anxious to be a military man and he entered West Point. He had a splendid record there, and was in love with the life, when he met with an accident out yachting that ruined his health, left him a trifle lame,and forced him to give up all thoughts of a military life. He never got over the disappointment.”
There was a general expression of sympathy, and Margaret found herself the target for more questions than she cared to answer. In such a babel of voices, however, it was easy to disregard any which she did not choose to hear, so that she extricated herself serenely from a position which Dolly knew to be rather trying.
It was late, and as Charlotte’s cakes and pickles had been demolished, the girls separated presently.
“You think that Margaret’s story was quite true?” Beth asked as they slowly paced the corridor on the way back to their rooms.
“I’m sure of it. Of course, her ancestors may have been privates in the wars of 1776 and 1812, but still they would have been soldiers all the same.”
“But about her father?”
“I imagine that he won his West Point cadetship by a competitive examination. You know those appointments are given in that way. He may have been very poor,indeed, but if he stood highest in the examination, he would certainly receive the appointment. When he left West Point he evidently had no friends to help him to a good position, and so he took the first honest work that he could find, at least, I imagine that such was the case.”
“You are about right, I’m sure. Poor Margaret. I don’t know why I pity her, though. She seems quite capable of holding her own. She is worth a score of Abby Dunbars.”
“Miss Dunbar will either be a freshman next year, again, or else become a special student. I understand that the stupid ones who fail in their examinations, usually linger on for a year or two as ‘specials,’ so that they can say they have been at Westover.”
“And Miss Dunbar has failed?”
“Flatly.”
“I’m glad that we got through, Beth, and Mary is all right, too. I was rather worried about Mary’s mathematics, to tell the truth, but her aunt gave her some coaching at the last. She is so thankful that she will not have to take them next year.”
“And I like mathematics better than anything else. I shall take an extra course in it.”
“You will be sure to win the senior prize for that branch, Beth. I am a little like Mary, however. I shall not take more mathematics than I absolutely must.”
“We’ll not take mathematics, or anything else, for three blessed months.”
“We shall have jolly times, my dear, see if we don’t.”
And they certainly did. In Dolly’s eyes, at least, the evening spent in Professor Newton’s room was more important than the commencement exercises themselves. Professor Newton had taken a quiet moment to thank Dolly for her real kindness to Mary during the year, and Dolly thereupon had summoned courage to beg Professor Newton to visit her during the summer at the Thousand Isles. The invitation had been accepted, and Dolly felt that her cup of happiness was running over.
Mrs. Newby was very glad to accede to Beth’s wishes for the summer; and the girls had a delightful time, for Mr. Newby was fortunate enough to secure the cottageadjoining the one which Dolly’s father had taken.
Fred brought a crowd of college chums again, and there was plenty of yachting and fishing. In the evenings there were lovely rows on the St. Lawrence, and music and singing.
The girls were provided with kodak cameras, and every week they sent a group of pictures to Mary. She had started for her home on the day that college closed, but she wrote regularly, and her letters, which seemed at first quite stiff and formal, grew toward the end of the vacation to be as chatty and bright as those sent her by Beth and Dolly.
Professor Newton’s visit had been postponed until the last fortnight, and when she came, she found a comparatively small crowd at the Alden cottage. All of Fred’s former visitors had left, but Dick Martin and Bob Steele had come down for the last part of the vacation. The former had spent his time in the woods of Maine, while Robert Steele had been doing hard work in a law office in Boston; for he had fully made up his mind that hewould be a lawyer. He would have a hard time, but he was becoming accustomed to hard times, and his innate grit and indomitable pluck would doubtless carry him triumphantly through.
Roy had grown brown and healthy during the summer outing, and Mrs. Newby declared every day, that she was under infinite obligations to Dolly for suggesting their coming to the place.
Beth and her stepmother had grown to know each other well, and Beth was devoted to Mrs. Newby. It seemed as if she were anxious to make up in some way, for those miserable years that were lost to them through a wretched misunderstanding. Mr. Newby seemed younger and brighter than Beth had ever known him before. While he said but little, his wife realized that he, too, had paid a heavy penalty during those years, and that now he was rejoicing in the real family love and good fellowship that pervaded his home.
Professor Newton looked at them all with interested eyes. It seemed strange enough to her that Robert Steele, whose history sheknew, should find Beth so congenial. While there was plenty of depth to Beth, she usually showed strangers only the froth and sparkle of her character. However, the two seemed to understand each well, and to be the best of friends. One day Professor Newton heard Mr. Newby suggesting that Rob spend the next summer in Philadelphia and read law in his office. Naturally enough, the young man grasped the opportunity eagerly. It was a chance which many young men of wealth and social position coveted, and it had come to him unsolicited. Professor Newton could not help wondering if Mr. Newby quite realized what he was doing, but she had no right to interfere, and she was not even sure that she would have interfered if she had had the right.
Despite the happy summer-time, the girls were not sorry to return to college. They were sophomores now, and could afford to look down on the green freshmen who seemed so forlorn and lonesome. Beth and Dolly fixed up their rooms in a gorgeous and artistic manner. Dolly’s chafing-dish still held a conspicuous place. Beth had one,too, this year, and their room bade fair to be one of the most popular in the building.
Mary was next door, and just beyond was Professor Newton’s sitting-room; for the girls had been able to carry out the plan that Mary had proposed at the close of the freshmen year.
Margaret Hamilton looked into their room as they were giving the finishing touches.
“May I come in, or are you too busy to talk?”
“As if we were ever too busy to talk to our president,” said Dolly promptly, pushing her guest down into an easy chair.
“I shall not be president after this week, you know, and that is what brought me here. Who is your candidate for the place?”
“Not Dolly,” said Beth promptly. “I have set my heart on her being president during our senior year.”
Margaret’s brow cleared. “She would make a capital president for our last year, and I pledge myself to work for her. Now, as she is out of the question, for the present, I want to tell you that my candidate is Elizabeth Newby.”
“How perfectly absurd!” That was Beth’s exclamation, of course.
“It is not absurd, and I want you, please, to listen to me. She can be elected, for the girls have not forgotten how grateful they were to her for saving our reputation at the entertainment last fall. There is no other strong candidate. Of course, ever so many names will be proposed in as large a class as ours, but the only one who will carry many votes is Hazel Fox.”
“Hazel Fox!” the girls both exclaimed aghast.
“Yes, and you see what I mean. She is not the person for the place. We could not feel proud of her in any way. She barely escaped conditions this year, and I don’t suppose she will ever get through the sophomore year with a clean record. The class is so grateful to Elizabeth, that she could be elected almost unanimously. What do you say?”
“Never mind what Beth says, I say that it is a ‘go.’ I’ll work for her with all my might and main. I’m sure she will be elected! Of course, you will be made chairmanof the executive committee.” This was a position which the classes had uniformly given the retiring president.
“I do not know. The girls may want someone else elected.” And Dolly told herself that Margaret never felt sure of her hold on her classmates. She felt that Margaret would feel more secure if every bit of her history were known; probably, too, she would be happier.
They talked over the coming elections at some length, and had just decided upon the list of candidates whom they would favor when Mary entered. The news was told to her, and she endorsed Beth’s candidacy very heartily, despite the fact that Beth herself persisted in regarding the whole matter as a huge joke.
It was impossible, seemingly, for Beth to realize that she was actually popular with the girls, that her many little deeds of quiet kindness, and her bright ways, had won her a warm corner in every heart. The matter was talked over again after Mary’s entrance, and then Mary announced a bit of news herself.
“We have an addition to our class. Did you know it? Miss Van Gerder was a freshmantwo years ago, and was a fine student, I believe; but she was not here last year because her mother’s health was poor, and they went to Europe. We shall have one of the largest sophomore classes ever enrolled here. I am glad that she is to be one of us, aren’t you?”
“Do you know her first name and in what city she lives?” Margaret asked, ignoring Mary’s question.
“She lives in New York, and her first name is Constance.”
Something in Margaret Hamilton’s tone had caused all three of the girls to look at her intently. There was no disguising the fact that she was startled and dismayed. All of them realized that Miss Van Gerder must have known Margaret in the old days in Chicago, and all three felt sorry for her now. Her position was not enviable. She showed little of what she felt, however, and soon after returned to her own room.
Dolly and Beth were passing along the lower corridor to the dining-room that evening, when they heard someone exclaim; “Why, Margaret, how glad I am to see you!I did not know what had become of you after you left Chicago!”
The speaker was a tall, stylish girl, whom they knew to be Miss Van Gerder. At least, she appeared to like Margaret, and Dolly saw Abby Dunbar’s eyes sparkle at this unmistakable proof of her friend’s “aristocracy,” for Constance Van Gerder was the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, and neither Miss Dunbar, nor anyone else at the college could claim the wealth or social distinction of the Van Gerders. Her face was not handsome, but Dolly liked it; it was fine and clear-cut. A face that was too noble for petty motives or mean ambitions.
Margaret had no time to say more than a few words in reply, when the second gong hurried them to the dining-room. Dolly tried to gain Miss Van Gerder’s side and sit beside her at the table, for as yet the permanent places had not been assigned, and the students took whatever seats they wished.
Dolly found herself foiled, however, in this attempt, by Abby Dunbar, who had evidently determined to make the most of the opportunity, and who kept beside her new classmateuntil they took their seats at table. Beth and Dolly were opposite them, but Margaret was at another table at the far end of the room.
“Miss Van Gerder looks kind,” whispered Beth to Dolly. “If we only sat next to her, so as to prevent her saying anything during this meal, there would be no further danger. After dinner I shall carry her off to our room and tell her the whole story. Oh, yes! you needn’t look so surprised. I’m not acquainted with her, but I shall do it anyway. You must mount guard outside, during the scene, and not let anyone else come in.”
“If only she does not say something, all unconsciously, during the dinner! I feel on pins and needles myself. What must Margaret feel?”
“Margarethas pluck and pride. She will hold her head as high as ever, no matter what Miss Van Gerder may choose to say, and if there be any snubbing to be done, she will do it as effectually as Abby Dunbar.”
“Very true, but to think that the two are rooming together!”
“Yes, I confess that, in my opinion, Margaret made a mistake there. I should not have accepted any favors or any invitations from that girl had I been Margaret, but that is her affair, after all.”
“Look! Look quickly, at Abby Dunbar’s face,” whispered Dolly excitedly. “The murder is out! I would give a dime to hear what she is saying. There! Miss Van Gerder realizes that she has said something she will regret. I suppose Abby was pumping in the very persistent way she has, and Miss Van Gerder merely answered her questions. Oh, how could she have been so thoughtless, though? She might have known that Westoveris one of the snobbiest colleges in the world.”
“There is no use trying to head her off now,” Beth declared disconsolately. “Still, I mean to have my talk with her anyway. If it be possible to repair the mischief, she will do it. Miss Dunbar is glaring at Margaret as if she would like to murder her!”
“Do you suppose that she remembers all the speeches she has made about Margaret’s aristocratic bearing? If she acts as contemptibly as I expect she will, I shall repeat some of those speeches for her benefit. I’ve been treasuring them in my memory.”
“I wish this meal would come to an end.”
To the two impatient girls, anxious to find out just what Miss Van Gerder had said, and what she would do in amends, dinner seemed a most interminable meal. It came to an end at last, however, and Beth, with her usual directness, walked at once to Miss Van Gerder. “Will you please come to my room a few moments? I wish very particularly to see you. I am Elizabeth Newby, and I am very fond of Margaret Hamilton,” and Beth was speaking the truth when she made that assertion,for she had come to like Margaret as she had not expected that she ever would.
Miss Van Gerder rose instantly, despite Abby Dunbar’s exclamation of annoyance. She had not been able to hear what Beth said, but she was not at all ready to resign her claim on the new arrival.
“Please don’t go, Miss Newby. Miss Van Gerder has just been telling me the most awful thing about Margaret Hamilton, and to think I begged her to room with me, and took her home with me this summer, and that we made her class president, it is too awful–and–”
Miss Van Gerder paused a moment, a rather dangerous light in her eyes. “I shall be glad if I can persuade you to relinquish your claims on Margaret, for I want her as a room-mate myself.” Then she passed on.
Beth squeezed her arm ecstatically, regardless of the fact that they had never been even introduced. “You are a darling, but, oh, what possessed you to tell that girl anything about Margaret?”
“How do you know I did? Oh, I suppose you were watching us. I noticed your eyeson us all through the meal. How do you happen to know anything more about Margaret than her room-mate?”
“That is what I want to tell you. Will you come in, please? This is my room. Let me introduce you to two more of your classmates–my room-mate, Miss Alden, and Miss Sutherland, our star student in biology. No, don’t go, girls.”
“I thought that I was to keep intruders out.”
“We will just lock the doors, and pay no attention to any knocks. Now, Miss Van Gerder, if you please, we will tell you first, what we know about Margaret and how we learned it; we are the only ones in the college who do know anything more than she has seen fit to tell. But don’t imagine that she has said that she was anything that she really wasn’t.”
“I am glad of that, now tell me your story.”
So Beth told it, with various interpolations by Dolly and Mary; she repeated both Rob Steele’s story and the conversation which she and Dolly had chanced to overhear on the night of the freshman entertainment.