CHAPTER XVI

I don’t wonder in the least that you objected to my coming here. Miss Van Gerder has given me the history of the past term. I do not feel proud of the part my sister played. Father and I will have hard work undoing the mischief you have wrought.    R. D.

I don’t wonder in the least that you objected to my coming here. Miss Van Gerder has given me the history of the past term. I do not feel proud of the part my sister played. Father and I will have hard work undoing the mischief you have wrought.    R. D.

That was all that Abby heard directly, but she knew that her father and Ray had vainly tried to get Margaret’s promise to spend the Easter recess with them. No allusionwas made to the matter when the girls were back at school once more. Abby heard Constance’s friends talking of the gay time they had had, and she more than half envied them. Dolly seemed brimming over with fun and spirits. She had had a thoroughly enjoyable time at home and afterward in New York. Dick Martin had run down for several days, and Fred had called on New Year’s. Constance was an ideal hostess. Mary had spent the time at Dolly’s home, and had joined Dolly on her return to college. Mrs. Alden had vainly tried to accomplish some good by ridiculing Mary’s feeling toward Constance Van Gerder. She owned to Dolly that she had effected nothing. “I think that one or two caustic remarks Fred made did more good than all my lengthy talks.”

But, to all appearances, Fred had not accomplished much, either, for Mary refused to go walking with the girls when Constance was to be of the party, and she would not visit in their rooms save at times when she knew that Constance had a recitation. She was not going to be patronized, she declared, andDolly vowed in disgust that she would never mention the subject again.

Nothing of any special interest happened through the next two terms. The four girls were growing to be extremely popular. Beth made a capital president, and the little quartette composed of herself, Dolly, Margaret and Constance were coming to be generally known as the “diggers.” There were students more bright than they, perhaps, in some particular branches, but there were no harder workers, and none who were more reliable.

Beth, to her extreme disappointment, had not been allowed to go home at Easter time, for Nell was suffering from an attack of scarlet fever. She had implored her mother to let her go anyway, but Mrs. Newby had written a most decided and positive negative. “I am anxious and troubled about one daughter now, dear, I cannot stand the thought that another one is exposed to danger, too. We are strictly quarantined, and if you came, you could not return to college for several weeks. We have a good trained nurse, and Nell’s case is not severe. Be patient,Beth, and do not ask to come. It is such a relief to know that you are safe.”

Beth had resolved to stay at the college during the short Easter recess–she was not good company for anyone, she declared–but Dolly carried her off despite her protests. Mary stayed with her aunt, and Constance took both Margaret and her mother home this time. Mr. Dunbar had come, himself, to see Margaret, but she would make no promises. Raymond had told his father something of Abby’s treatment of her room-mate, after she had become aware of Margaret’s lack of social position.

Mr. Dunbar rarely exercised any parental authority; Abby had always found him indulgent and kind. On this occasion he had been more stern than Abby had believed it possible for him to be. He had insisted upon an apology being made to Margaret, and Abby dared not refuse. It had been a farce, however, for she had offered her apologies under compulsion. At present the relations between her and the “diggers” were coldly civil. Abby would not return to college the next year. She was a poor student, and hadcared more for the fun of college life than for the knowledge that she might acquire. It was already arranged that she should travel abroad with a maiden aunt of her mother’s.

Nell had recovered from her attack of scarlet fever, but Hugh and Roy had both come down with it. They were all convalescent by Commencement time, but the family physician was anxious for a change of air for them all. So, it had been decided that they should again spend the hot weather among the Thousand Isles, as all three of the children were eager to go there.

Mr. Alden had talked of going to the seashore, but he found both Fred and Dolly so energetically opposed to the project, that they, too, went back to their cottage at the Thousand Isles. Dick Martin spent a couple of weeks with Fred, and Rob Steele was occasionally sent there on some important errand by Mr. Newby, in whose office he was now reading law. Mr. Newby vibrated between his office and the Islands, and Rob Steele was sent back and forth with papers that needed signing or personal revision.

“Father could really get the papers by mail quite as well, I think, Mother,” Beth said one evening when the two were having a comfortable talk.

“I think so myself, but he probably wants to give the boy a little breathing space. ’Tis rather hot in the city, and a few days here will do him good.”

“Father is very kind,” Beth said demurely, and her stepmother, well as she had come to know Beth, could not tell whether she was particularly pleased or not at Rob’s coming.

The children gained strength slowly during the summer, but when September came at last, they were brown as nuts and as healthy as country children.

Fred and his friends were seniors at Harvard now. Their plans for the future were well formulated. To his father’s disappointment, Fred evinced no liking for the law. His tastes ran toward electrical engineering, and with a sigh Mr. Alden resigned all hopes of having his son succeed him in business.

“Father could really get the papers by mail quite as well, I think, Mother.”

“Father could really get the papers by mail quite as well, I think, Mother.”

Dick Martin had determined to be a doctor; there was no special need for him to work at all, but despite his surface indolence, there was no actual laziness about him, and he wanted to do a man’s work in the world. He told Dolly of his plans that summer. He was rich enough not to need any income from his profession, and while he would not turn away rich patients, he intended to practice among the poor almost exclusively. He would charge as little as possible; less even than the medicines would cost; but, except in cases of really abject poverty, he thought it best to charge a mite, so as not to pauperize his patients and make them lose their self-respect.

“I’ve thought about this matter considerably. It seems to me that the physicians who do the most among the poor, are the ones who are not well off themselves, and who cannot afford either the time or the means for such a practice. The rich fellows generally have a practice among their own class, and they do not need the fees at all. I do not like to give money outright, except in rare cases, but I can give my services when I become qualified; if I do not charge them the same fees that I shall my richer patients,they will never know the difference. I mean to provide the medicines myself, and to fill my own prescriptions. I can do it more cheaply, and then I shall be sure that they get the stuff. Half of the time the poor have no money with which to have prescriptions filled. What do you think of the plan?”

Dolly considered it a noble plan and was not backward in saying so. Beth thought that Dick seemed much more gratified by Dolly’s approbation than by her own, which was quite as frankly expressed. But she was careful not to say so to Dolly.

The girls were juniors now, a fact that they found it hard to realize. College seemed like a second home to them when they returned, and they went over every nook and corner of it with real affection. Several girls had dropped out of the class, as was only to be expected, but they had gained some new members also, so that they were still the largest junior class ever enrolled at Westover. They numbered 291, but Abby Dunbar and three of her most intimate friends had dropped out.

Mary kept her old room. Constance andMargaret were room-mates again, so were Dolly and Beth. Even Mary was inveigled into the little reunion which they held in Dolly’s room on the night after they all returned.

Theyhad talked over the summer holidays quite thoroughly, when Beth brought up the subject of class elections.

“We want Dolly for president next year; we shall want Margaret as editor-in-chief of theChronicle(theChroniclewas a college monthly managed entirely by the senior class, although contributions were frequently accepted from members of the other classes), we want Constance for class historian, too, and Mary ought to be on the executive committee; as we shall want so much then, I think that we had better keep in the background this year, don’t you?”

“Is that all you want, Beth?” Dolly questioned dryly.

Beth ignored the protests that Constance and Mary both were making regarding their fitness for the positions to which Beth wished them elected.

“I do not want too much, and I do not want more than I mean to get either! If we workfor the other girls this year, they can afford to help us next. I was president last year, and of course I am still president for a few days yet. After I go out we will all keep in the background during this junior year, for really we are not pigs.”

“So glad you told us that; some people might think we were,” murmured Dolly. Beth gave her a vigorous pinch and went on calmly. “You girls are just the ones for the places I named, and we want our best material to the fore during our senior year. None of you have any special candidates at heart this year, have you?”

“I do not want to interfere with any of your plans for Dolly’s election next year, Beth, but I would be glad if Margery Ainsworth could be elected to one of the minor committees this year.”

“Now, in the name of common sense, why do you care about her?”

“I feel sorry for the girl, Beth. She is studying well now, she has no special friends, and a little honor like that would do her an immense amount of good.”

“Do you really like her, Con?”

“I am not sure that her character is enough settled yet for me to say. Of course, I do not care for her as I do for you girls here, but I feel immensely sorry for her. Her pride is hurt continually. She will either develop into something strong and good, or else grow unlovable and unloving. Let us help her this wee bit, girls. Her pride is being wounded all of the time now, and a little recognition by her classmates may come at just the right time.”

“Oh, if you want us to do missionary work, Con, and put it on high moral grounds–”

“Be still. I just ask you to do a nice little thing for a girl who feels that she has no friends. And you will do it, too.”

“Will I?” and Beth looked mutinous. Constance smiled serenely. She was sure of Beth’s help when the time should come.

The girls all felt that the one who was made president, during this, their junior year, should be both capable and popular. Either Constance or Dolly could have been elected, had they so chosen, but Constance utterly refused to consider the matter, and Beth would not hear to Dolly’s being nominated.It ended with the election of Hope Brereton, and the “diggers” were not represented at all in the offices, with the exception of Beth, who was made chairman of the executive committee since she was the retiring president. Margery Ainsworth, to her own intense surprise and gratification, was put on the entertainment committee.

It did not take long for the girls to settle into their former grooves again. The old friendships were cemented, and some new ones were formed. Mary retreated again into her shell, and Dolly felt more than once like shaking her. In other ways Mary had improved materially. She could not afford handsome dresses, but those that she had, were becoming in color and soft in texture. Her hair was arranged to show its real beauty, and while she was far from being a pretty girl, she had a fine, intelligent face, and the promise of future beauty. She was looking forward to the time when she could teach, and earn money to lighten the burdens on that western farm.

Just before Thanksgiving time, the sophomores gave a little entertainment to thejuniors. Mary came into Dolly’s room one day with a wry face. “I fear that I shall not be able to attend that entertainment which the sophomores are giving us.”

“I would like to know why?”

“We shall have to wear some sort of evening dress, I suppose, and the only thing that I have is my white.”

“That would be just the thing,” said Constance, who chanced to be present.

“It’s not very elegant, but it would do, only I have not got it. I sent it to Mrs. O’Flaherty three weeks ago to be laundered, and it hasn’t been sent back yet.”

“Write to her.”

“I have. I’ve sent her a dozen missives. But she does not answer.”

“Go and see her.”

“She lives too far away.”

“Then try one more note; make it pathetic and appealing and stern and threatening all in one. That will surely bring the dress.”

“Very well, I will.”

But as she was about to commence the note, Mary decided, that after all, she had better go herself. She dressed rapidly, andstarted out alone. Either Dolly or Beth would have gone with her willingly, but she would not ask them. Mrs. O’Flaherty lived at the farther side of Westover. Mary found herself out of breath and impatient when she reached there. She was about to knock when the door opened, and Constance came out, Mary’s dress in her arms.

“I was going to take the liberty of carrying your dress to a woman whom I know. She will do it up beautifully for you, even on this short notice. Mrs. O’Flaherty is ill–too ill to answer your notes or to think about your dress at all.”

“Then I had better go in and see her a moment.”

“You can do no good, I am sure.”

“Perhaps not, but still I will go in; if you can wait for me just a moment, I will relieve you of that bundle.”

“There is really nothing to be done, Mary, and Mrs. O’Flaherty is just falling asleep.”

Mary made no comment, but went directly in, taking care, however, to move more gently than usual. Mary was not a quiet person ordinarily, being the last one thatan invalid would care to have in a sick room. She wondered angrily why Constance had tried to prevent her from entering. If she were as rich as Constance Van Gerder, she would do something for poor Mrs. O’Flaherty. She was too poor to do anything herself, but at least she could show a little sympathy! Full of indignation against Constance, Mary was pushing into the tiny house, when her way was suddenly barred.

Looking up, she recognized Dr. Leonard, the leading physician in Westover. “I cannot let you in, Miss Sutherland. Mrs. O’Flaherty has some kind of a low fever. I cannot tell just what it will develop into yet, but I could not allow you to run the risk of going in there.”

“But is there nothing I can do? The woman is so horribly poor. I’m not rich myself, but–”

“She will be all right now. Miss Van Gerder has gotten hold of her. She just chanced to learn today, that Mrs. O’Flaherty was ill, or she would have had me here before. You need not worry, Miss Sutherland. Miss Van Gerder will do all that is necessary. Shehas given me money for food, fuel and nurse. I can call upon her for as much more as I need. I wonder if you girls up at the college know half the good that Miss Van Gerder is doing with her wealth?”

“No, we don’t,” Mary said shortly, and then, ashamed of her curtness, she lingered to make some more inquiries.

Constance was waiting for her by the gate. Mary took the bundle from her arms, despite Constance’s remonstrances. “You are not going to carry my bundles, when I am along, at least. If you will tell me where that other woman lives of whom you were speaking just now, I will try to hunt her up.”

“I can take you there, but she lives on such a funny back street that I cannot well give you any directions.”

“How do you know all these people? I have never been to Mrs. O’Flaherty’s house before, and I should not have gone this time, if my dress had been sent home on time. Did you go because of what I said today? I would really like to know.” And Mary meant it.

“Yes, I suppose I did, but there is nothingvery wonderful about that. I concluded that she must be sick or in trouble, when you failed to hear from her, so I looked her up.”

“And you, probably, had never heard of her before, while she has been doing my laundry work ever since I came to Westover. It strikes me that I have been both thoughtless and selfish.”

“You have been busy,” Constance said gently, “and then, in a certain sense, I feel as if these cases were my work just as much as Greek and History. Mother does not believe in indiscriminate giving. She believes in personal investigation as far as possible. That takes longer, of course, and is much more bother, but she has made me feel that I have no right to waste my money (even if I do have more than most girls), by a lazy way of giving. What I give carelessly to some unworthy person who asks aid, may really belong by right to someone else who is deserving and whom I would have found, had I investigated personally. Do you see what I mean? I cannot help everyone, and so where Idohelp, I want my money to do good, not harm.”

“Your way must cost a great amount of time and trouble.”

“It often does, and that is my real, personal part of the giving. I cannot take credit to myself for giving the money which comes to me with no exertion on my part.”

“What shall you do when you are out of college and in society?”

“I never expect to be in society, as I suppose you understand that term. I have no particular fondness for receptions and germans and balls. One tires of it all fearfully soon. I shall do some sort of college settlement work, but I shall not undertake it until I feel better prepared than at present.”

“Dolly always said that I never knew anything about you, and she was right. In your place I know that I should just be getting all of the good times that I could for myself. I’m afraid that I should not care for much except the frivolous part of life. It is well that I am poor, and not likely to see much gaiety, because it has an irresistible attraction for me. You would not imagine it, would you?”

But Constance could understand perfectly how Mary’s hard, prosaic life on the western farm had caused her to think with deep longing of the bright, fashionable world in which she had no part or lot. Constance’s comprehension was so perfect, and her sympathy so delicate, that Mary grew bitterly ashamed of the narrow feelings and jealousy which had marred all her sophomore year. There should be no more of it, she told herself sharply. Mary was not afraid to face facts when she once met them.

She owned, now, that she had been jealous of Dolly’s open admiration for Constance. Then she had called Constance proud and unfeeling. Who had stood Margaret Hamilton’s friend? Who was helping Margery Ainsworth to regain her self-respect? Who had gone to Mrs. O’Flaherty on the first hint of sickness? And had not the doctor declared that the college girls were ignorant of the greater part of her charitable deeds?

“I believe that I have been a big snob,” Mary told herself. “We can only be measured by our inclinations and our deeds. Certainly, even in proportion to my limitedmeans, I have done far less good than Constance. It never occurred to me, for instance, to look up Mrs. O’Flaherty for her own sake, because she might be ill. I only thought of getting my dress.”

Mary never resorted to half-way measures. She now gave as frank and open admiration to Constance as did any of the “diggers;” Dolly and Beth rejoiced over her conversion.

But Beth said, “If she felt at all toward Constance as I now feel toward Margery Ainsworth, when I see Constance wasting her sweetness in that direction, I can sympathize with her. Mary was rather jealous of your affection for Constance, Dolly, and while I do not think that I myself am jealous, I surely hate to see Con lavishing time and patience on Margery.”

“You are sure it is wasted?”

“Yes, I am. Don’t forget that I was Margery’s room-mate. I flatter myself that I know about all that there is to know concerning that young lady.”

“Yet I think that Constance is a tolerably good judge of character. There must belatent possibilities in Margery which you have never discovered.”

Beth shook her head obstinately, but that very day proved the correctness of Dolly’s conclusions and made Beth resolve to be more charitable in her judgments.

Thatevening Dolly was wishing for some one’s note-book on Greek art, that she might make up a lecture she had lost because of a headache. Beth noted rather anxiously that Dolly had many headaches in these days. This was something new. Until very lately, Dolly and headaches had been strangers.

The junior year was conceded by everyone to be the easiest year in the entire course, so Beth did not believe that Dolly was working too hard. Yet she seemed tired so much of the time! She had been so anxious that athletics at Westover should be revived, but now, when an effort was being made in that direction, Dolly took only a languid interest in the matter. Beth helped her in many little ways, and hid her increasing anxiety, although she was fully determined to write to Mrs. Alden, if Dolly did not grow stronger within a short time.

Beth looked up as Dolly was expressing her wish for the notes on Greek art. She,herself, was not taking that course, for she preferred logarithms and abstruse calculations, to the marvels of the Parthenon.

“I’ll get you Margery Ainsworth’s note-book, Dolly; she has full notes on everything, the girls say.”

“Yes, her book would do splendidly, if she will loan it, but I ought to get it myself. There is no reason in the world why you should be running my errands in this fashion.”

“I like it, so don’t talk nonsense,” and Beth went off briskly.

She gave a little tap at Margery’s door, then entered, thinking that she had heard Margery speak. When she was fairly in the room, however, she saw Margery lying on her couch, sobbing as if her heart would break.

“Why, Margery, what is the trouble? have you had bad news? Do tell me.”

Margery sat up hastily. Beth was not the person whom she would have selected as her confidant. “I have just received a letter from Father. He has been crippled in business for some time by the recent bank failures, and now he has lost everything.”

“Oh, Margery, I am dreadfully sorry.”

“Mother is such an invalid that it will be hard on her. She has a little money of her own, not much, but enough, Father says, to pay up every cent he owes and to keep me here until I graduate.”

“It must be a comfort, Margery, to feel that he will not owe any person a cent.”

“Yes, it is,” with an irrepressible sob, “but, oh, I want to be at home helping, but Father says that I can help best by going through and graduating. He was afraid of this, and that was the reason he was so determined that I should graduate here and be prepared to teach. Mother may need to depend upon me entirely some day, for, of course, Father is not young any more, and we have no near relatives; no one, at least, upon whom we would ever call for help.”

“You must be proud of the fact that your father can depend upon you, dear.”

“There is not much to be proud of. Just think, Beth, if I had not wasted so much of my time, I should be graduating this year. Now I cannot be of any help for nearly two years. That is the bitterest part of all. Wehave never been rich people, but Father made a comfortable living for us. I ought to have realized that it cost a great deal for him to send me here, and I should have made the most of my time–but I didn’t.”

“No one could have done better than you have been doing lately, Margery.”

“But I cannot make up that lost year. That is the dreadful part of it. Repentance doesn’t take away the consequences of one’s folly, does it? We have to pay for it all. Just now, when I ought to be in a position to help at home, I am only an added burden. Father has seen this coming for years, but I did not know it. He lost many thousands of dollars in a great bank failure four years ago. He has never quite recovered from that blow. If there had not been several failures lately, though, among people who owed him money, he would have managed to pull through.”

“But you knew nothing of all this, Margery, so do not blame yourself too severely.”

“I knew that Father was not rich, and I ought not to have wasted my time. I know that I must graduate now, if I would teach, but it is dreadfully hard to think that Imust use up my mother’s little pittance for it.”

“But she wants you to take it, dear, and I am sure that the best thing you can do for your parents, now, is to be cheerful and happy. You will probably have many long years in which to work for them both; and really, Margery, you are working for them now just as truly as if you were earning money for them.”

But even Beth’s bright reasoning failed to console the girl, and Beth went back to Dolly feeling quite downcast.

“There, if I didn’t forget your book! Let me tell you the news and then I will go back and get it.”

“Never mind the book,” said Dolly when Beth had told the story. “I feel too wretched to use it tonight. I wish you would tell Constance, though. She may know how to comfort Margery a little, and perhaps she can devise some plan for helping her.”

But while Constance was sympathetic and kind, she could think of no way for assisting Margery just then. “When she is ready to teach, I can help her, I am sure. I thinkit likely that she may be able to get a good position in one of the fashionable boarding-schools in New York; then she will not be obliged to leave home.”

So Margery’s friends did all that they could for her in a quiet way, but, after all, they could not carry her burden, and Margery felt in those days as if life were a hard thing.

Dolly’s headaches had grown no better; they had become perpetual, until Beth, in frightened desperation, wrote to Mrs. Alden. Before her mother reached the college, however, Dolly had been removed to the hospital, and several of the other students were developing symptoms of the same malarial fever that had attacked Dolly.

“There is much of this disease in the lower portion of the city. I have been attributing the trouble there to bad drinking water, but that hardly seems to account for the outbreak here, because your drinking water is wonderfully clear and pure.”

“We are often in that part of the city, though,” Beth said, “and we almost always get a drink at the fountain.”

“That accounts for it, then. How oftenhave you been in the habit of going to that part of Westover?”

“Nearly every day. You know that we are required to take outdoor exercise.”

“We must see that no more mischief is done,” the Doctor said, with a grave face.

But although the fountain was removed and a new system of drainage introduced, the mischief was already wrought, so far as Dolly was concerned. All of the girls liked her, and were ready to do all in their power to make things easier for her when she returned once more to her classes. Her illness was not serious, but it was tedious and wearisome. Constance copied her own literature notes into Dolly’s book, and Margery copied the Greek art. The professors did everything in their power to smooth things, but Christmas found Dolly pale and thin, and utterly aghast at the work she must take up; for the half-yearly examinations to which the juniors were treated would come at the end of January and she was far from being prepared.

“I wonder if I hadn’t better give up college altogether, Mother? It will break my heart to do it, but, honestly, I do not seehow I can ever make up all this work. I lack the energy to attack it. It is not merely the work that I have missed, either, during these three weeks since I have been in the hospital. I could not do good work for several weeks before that. To think of Beth’s graduating, and my not even being in college then,” and Dolly tried to wink away the tears which would come, for Dolly was not strong yet.

Mrs. Alden had stayed throughout Dolly’s sickness, and now she looked at her daughter thoughtfully. “I want to do the best thing for you, Dolly, and, as far as I am concerned, I feel like bundling you up and taking you home for good. I wrote Fred to that effect, but he says that you will not forgive me in after years if I do it. He has a plan of his own, and you shall hear it. Then you can decide for yourself what to do. You are old enough to make the decision unaided. Fred wants to bring home Rob Steele for the holidays. There will be nearly three weeks. He says that Rob has been overworking fearfully, and is in danger of breaking down. Rob refuses to come, because he says that he is already under so many obligations to Fred.He is as obstinate as a mule, your brother declares. So Fred proposes that you take home your note-books and whatever else you need, and let Rob coach you up in the mornings. He can make him come under those circumstances. He wants me to tell you that Rob is a splendid coach, and that he will fix you up so that you can go back in January with a free mind. You can give your mornings to study, and have plenty of time for fun beside. What shall I tell him, Dolly, dear? I must write at once.”

“I believe, I actually believe, that I could do it in that way. Beth wanted to help me, but we do not have the same studies, and I knew how anxious she was to be at home, too. This plan will help Mr. Steele, and Fred will like that.”

“Yes, Fred will like that, for he is fond of Rob, but, most of all, he will like helping you, Dolly. Fred is proud of his sister. Can you do this without overtasking yourself? Health must come first.”

“I know I can. It was mostly the thought of sitting down to the horrid old books all alone; I merely didn’t have the courage toface the prospect. This will improve matters. I would rather do it than not–much rather. I am considerable of a baby since I have been sick, Motherdie, and I dreaded going at the work that will have to be done. At the same time, I couldn’t bear to fall behind the class. Fred is a jewel.”

And so the matter was settled, to the delight of all. Beth’s face looked brighter than it had since Dolly’s illness. “I just could not stand it to have you drop out, Dolly. Tell Fred that he is the nicest young man I know, to think of this solution of the difficulty. You will get through all right, I know!”

And Dolly did get through, for she worked faithfully during the holidays. Rob Steele was about the best person she could have had to help her, and, as Fred surmised, he agreed to go willingly enough, when he found that there was work for him to do. When vacation was over, and Mr. Alden tried to pay him, however, he bluntly refused to take a cent. He was so positive in his refusal, and so hurt that the offer was even made, that the subject was dropped.

Margaret and Mary had gone home withConstance. Several of the other girls had joined the party later and Margery Ainsworth had been with them for a couple of days. Beth and Dolly had been invited, but Dolly could not spare the time from her studies, and Beth would not go without her. Besides, as she told Mrs. Newby: “I like home better than any other place, so what is the use of running off the moment I get here?”

“We like to have you with us, dearie, but we must not be selfish. If you are really happy here at home, we shall be glad to keep you. Nell and the boys have been looking forward to vacation time very eagerly. You know, though, that you would have a gay round of pleasure if you should go to Constance.”

“But I am not going, Mother, and that is positively settled. You need not say another word unless you want to get rid of me.”

“That is so likely!”

So Beth and Dolly spent their holidays this time in their own homes, and while they would have enjoyed the good times which Constance gave her friends, they doubtlesswent back to their studies all the fresher for the quiet rest they had had.

Dick Martin had run down to see Fred on New Year’s Day. He pretended to feel much hurt and slighted when he found that Rob Steele had been coaching Dolly all vacation.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I was in need of such a job, and I would have done it for much less than Steele! Next time you want help, don’t forget me.”

“Have you any references from former pupils?” Dolly asked maliciously.

“Now, I call that a very unkind speech. If you are going to doubt my ability, I have nothing more to say, of course; still, next time you need help I do hope that you will give me a chance. I mean it, Miss Dolly.”

“I trust that there will be no ‘next time.’ A few such setbacks as this, and I should be obliged to leave college.”

“I sincerely hope there will not be, either. Now I would like a promise from you, and I hope you will not refuse to grant it. I have been intending to speak about it for some time.”

“Well?”

“You want to see your brother graduate?”

“Of course I do. We have not made any definite plans as yet, but I have been counting on being at Harvard for all of commencement week, if I can manage to get permission. Fred wants me to bring Mary and Beth, too.”

“That will be fine, but don’t you see that Fred cannot do justice to three young ladies? Let me do the honors of Harvard as far as you are concerned. Come, now, promise!”

Dolly shook her head. “Fred is a model brother, and I am sure that he would be utterly disgusted if I should make any such promise as that. I think that he will be equal to the three of us, but I shall be glad if you will assist him in his onerous duties.”

“You are not very generous to me, but when you find Fred engrossed with Miss Sutherland, and entirely oblivious to thefact that he has a sister, I will forgive you, and take you under my protecting care.”

“Fred will not forget me.”

Her companion laughed mischievously. “I would like to make a wager on that point, but I know that you never bet–so all I can do is to wait for the future to prove me a true prophet.”

During the busy weeks that followed, Dolly thought of his words more than once. Was it possible that Fred cared particularly for Mary? She did not think so. She hoped not, too, for she knew Mary well enough to be sure that that young lady wasted no thoughts upon Fred, or upon any other young man.

“All Mary cares for,” she told herself half-angrily, “is biology, and her own family. She has her future mapped out, and she expects to teach forever and forever. Fred need not waste a single thought on her, and I do not believe that he does, either.”

But when commencement time approached, and Fred was so plainly cast down over Mary’s refusal to go to Harvard, Dolly began to think that she might be wrong in her conclusions. Fred had the matter so much at heart that hebespoke his mother’s influence, and Mary at length gave a reluctant consent.

“But I have nothing to wear that is new and pretty, Dolly, and you will be ashamed of me.”

The conversation took place in Professor Newton’s room, and she interposed at this point. “You must have a new white dress, Mary, and it shall be my present to you. We will get a very pretty one, and with what you have already, Dolly need not be ashamed of you.”

“As if I would be, anyway,” Dolly protested reproachfully.

But Professor Newton realized that a new dress may give a girl a certain self-possession and ease, so she was determined that her niece should have at least one gown that would be becoming and suitable. Mary grumbled, over the waste of money, as she termed it, but her aunt quietly silenced her, and sent her off to Harvard, hoping that, for once in her life, Mary would act like a young girl instead of an old woman, and would get as much pleasure out of the week as Beth and Dolly did.

Probably, to the majority of visitors, the Commencement that year was like other Commencements, but Dolly was sure that it was much more brilliant than anything ever before held at old Harvard.

Rob Steele had won substantial honors, and both Fred and Dick Martin had earned their degrees. The boys saw that the girls had a share in all the fun that was going on.

Westover would not close for another fortnight, but examinations were over, and the girls could enjoy themselves with an easy mind. Dolly found herself depending upon Dick Martin rather more than she had expected to do.

“Am I not a better prophet than you thought?” he asked one day when Fred and Mary had disappeared.

“I am afraid that you are.”

“Afraid! I beg your pardon, but I do not understand you. I imagined that you would be quite pleased to find that Fred appreciated Miss Sutherland.”

“But she does not appreciate him!”

“You are sure?”

“Positive.”

Dick gave a low whistle. “I never thought of that phase of the subject, I’ll confess. Fred is such a good fellow that I supposed anyone would like him.”

“Mary likes him, but that is all. He certainly cannot vie in interest in her mind with biology.”

“Poor Fred.”

Dolly sprang up. “I am not going to worry about Fred. Mary and he are good friends, and Fred is far too young yet to think of anything else.”

Martin indulged in a long laugh. “Don’t let him hear you, or he will think that you do not appreciate his years and new dignities. As a matter of fact, more than fifty per cent. of the students here are engaged.”

“How unutterably foolish.”

“Why, pray?”

“Because they are too young to know what they want, or what kind of women they really like. If they studied harder, they would not be getting into so much mischief.”

“Then you think the boys should wait until–”

“Until they are not boys,” finished Dolly abruptly. “Come and let us hunt up the others.”

And for the remaining days of the visit, Dolly was unapproachable, though why she acted just so, was a matter which she herself could not have explained very satisfactorily.

There had been considerable discussion over the summer plans. The Aldens and Newbys went to the Thousand Isles finally, though Mr. Alden insisted that another year they must try the seashore.

Rob Steele had gone directly from Harvard to Philadelphia, and was working hard in Mr. Newby’s office. He had not broken down during his senior year, but he had been very near doing so. Later in the summer he and Fred might go camping for a fortnight in the Adirondacks, but he refused all invitations to the Islands. “He could afford neither the time nor the money, for such a delightful outing.”

Constance and her mother had gone to England for the summer. Margaret Hamilton and her mother were spending the warm weather at a pleasant farmhouse near Westover.Dolly and Beth heard from both the girls frequently.

Margery Ainsworth had found tutoring to do–and was perfectly happy in consequence. She begged her father to let her try and find some work the next year; she was sure that she could find something which she was capable of doing, but her father would not listen.

“My health is none too good, Margery, and when I am gone, I want to know that you will be able to take care of your mother well. You cannot do that now. You are not fitted for any special thing. You would be compelled to work for a low salary, and when hard times came, you might find yourself without any position at all. I should like to give you a couple of years of post-graduate study, too, but that is impossible now.”

So Margery yielded, knowing in her heart that her father’s plan was really the wisest, and promising herself to utilize every moment. Yet she hated the thought of drawing upon their small reserve fund for her college expenses.

It was Professor Arnold who finally came to her assistance. College had opened andthe work of the year had fairly commenced. Professor Arnold was none too popular with the girls, principally for the reason that none of them understood her well. She was exacting in the classroom, and indolent students received small mercy at her hands. Yet when people once penetrated beneath her reserve, they found her lovable, charming and sincere.

She knew Margery Ainsworth’s circumstances well, and since the girl’s second entrance at college had watched her keenly. Now she went to her with a proposition that filled Margery with the keenest gratitude. “Miss Ainsworth, could you manage to take the Latin classes in the preparatory department? You are perfectly competent to do the work, and if you think that you can find the time and if you care to undertake it, what you do there will balance your expenses here.”

There was no doubt that Margery would find the time. What wouldn’t she do for the sake of paying her own way? So she undertook the work eagerly, and wrote a joyful letter home. Mr. Ainsworth shook his head rather dubiously over it. He feared that his daughter was undertaking more than herstrength would permit, but he did not like to forbid the plan definitely, and so Margery went on with the work. There were many times when she was so tired that it did seem as if she could not prepare her own recitations for the next day, but she never quite gave way, and she never once regretted the fact that she had undertaken the extra duties.

Professor Arnold kept a watchful eye on her, although Margery was not aware of it, and she became more and more certain, as the year went by, that Margery was just the person that Madame Deveaux would want the next year, at her exceedingly fashionable school in New York. One of the teachers would leave at the close of the present year, and Madame had already asked Professor Arnold to secure someone for her. So, although Margery did not know it, her way was being made plain and easy. Constance, too, had been thinking of Margery, but when she found out, accidentally, what Professor Arnold’s plan was, she said nothing more, merely resolving to make Margery’s holidays as pleasant as possible. And Margery would be happy in her work, knowing that she washelping her home folks and was making the best atonement possible for her former folly.

Class elections passed off smoothly. As Beth said, she had not planned things for two long years just to fail at the last moment. Beth’s “ticket,” as Dolly insisted on calling it, was carried through triumphantly, and without any hard feelings on the part of any one.

So Dolly was elected president, Margaret was editor-in-chief of theChronicle, Constance was historian, and both Mary and Beth were on the executive committee. Beth had objected decidedly when her name was proposed, but she was so capable and energetic, that her classmates really wanted her in that all-important place.

The majority of the girls had their plans more or less well defined for the next year. Margaret had already given her name to the faculty as an applicant for a school, and it was hardly to be doubted that she would get what she wished. Westover ranked so high among colleges, that its graduates were in demand every place, and each year brought the faculty scores of letters, from both publicand private schools, asking that one of Westover’s graduates be sent them.

Constance would take a couple of years of post-graduate work before going into the College Settlement. Several of the others expected to be back for one year at least, Hope Brereton, Hazel Browne, Ada Willing and Florence Smith. Some of the others, too, perhaps, but neither Dolly nor Beth felt that they could be spared longer from home. Beth knew how much her stepmother and the children looked forward to the next year, and so, although she did wish at times that she might be back at Westover for some special work in mathematics, she did not entertain the thought seriously, for the boys really needed her, and her father said that they were lonesome at home without her. She would help to make her home as pleasant as she could, and she would do some earnest work with her music. Without doubt there would be enough to keep her busy! She would find plenty of duties when she came to look for them.

Dolly knew that her father and mother felt that they had spared her as long as theycould. Fred would still be away for several years, for he had decided to take a thorough course in electrical engineering in Boston. Dick Martin was studying medicine there, so that the two saw considerable of each other.

Mary Sutherland was hoping for a place in the preparatory department the next year, so that she could teach, and yet do extra work in the line of biology.

“Why, Mary Sutherland,” Dolly exclaimed, when Mary first confided this plan to her, “I should think that you knew all there was to be known about that subject now.”

Mary stared at her friend in honest horror. “I could never know all about it, Dolly, if I should live as long as Methuselah and study day and night. I don’t know enough to try and teach anything about it yet, but sometime I hope I may.”

“Fred can’t hope to compete with biology, so far as Mary is concerned,” Dolly told herself emphatically, for by this time she acknowledged that Dick Martin had been correct, and that Fred’s interest in Mary was more than a friendly one. It seemed strange enough to Dolly that this was so, for Mary was notpretty, and she had none of the little accomplishments which usually attract young men. Now, if it had only been Beth! and Dolly sighed dismally. It would have been so lovely to have Beth for a sister; of course, she liked Mary, but she could never care as much for her, or for anyone else, as for Beth.

While all of the girls were anxious to be at home, they dreaded the leaving of college and the breaking up of the ties which had bound them so closely for four years. It seemed as if time had never rushed on as swiftly as during those last months. Class Day and Commencement were upon them almost before they realized it. Dolly had made a very dignified, impartial president, and the class was delighted at its own good judgment in selecting her.

TheChroniclehad flourished under Margaret’s management; it had contained more bright and witty things than ever before, and Beth heard some of the juniors groaning over their patent inability to keep the magazine, during the ensuing year, up to its present standard of merit.

Beth repeated the remark with much delightto Margaret. “It has been a great success, girls, and we owe it all to Margaret. She has put soul and life into it. In fact, I think we can be proud of our record all the way through college; we have the largest class ever graduated; we certainly have some of the brightest students that were ever within these walls, we have the most unique entertainments of any class, and theChroniclehas never been as good as it is this year.”

“How we apples do swim!” said Dolly mockingly.

“You are as proud of this class as I am, and you know it, Dolly Alden! Professor Newton told me the other day that the faculty was perfectly satisfied with us. We have some actually brilliant students here. Look at Amy Norton, for instance! She is a phenomenon. Our choir is fine, and altogether,” Beth wound up emphatically, “we are just about as nice a class as you can find any place.”

“We are nice,” Dolly conceded, “but, Beth, let me tell you that our pride is going to have a fearful fall in one particular.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“I amtalking about the athletic contests that come off the first of Commencement week. We simply shan’t be in it. Vassar, Wellesley, Smith, and all the others, seem to be in great shape, but we shall disgrace ourselves.”

“But, Dolly dear, we must do tolerably well, or we should never be in the contests at all. There were scores of colleges that tried for a place and we were one of the six successful ones, so we must certainly be able to do something.”

“You would not be feeling so confident if you took more interest in athletics. We should never have won a place at all except for Ruth Armstrong. She was superb at everything; running, jumping, throwing–everything. It was she, and she alone, who won us our place on the list. She was simply phenomenal, but, as you know, she isn’t here this year, and there is no one at all on whom we can count. Vassar is sure now of oneevent, and the Cornell girls will get another, that is positive. I had hoped that we could do something in the running contests, but Rose Wilson has twisted her ankle, so the only thing in which we stood the least show is out of the question.”

“Well, Dolly dear, with six colleges represented, and only three events to come off, everyone could not win.”

“Of course not, and now Westover will not be one of the lucky three. We shall not even win second place in anything! In short, we are in such bad shape that I wish we had never tried to revive athletics here at Westover. The other colleges have been working in this direction for years, and it was absurd for us to compete with them.”

“Don’t worry; I think that we have won honor enough simply by being admitted to the competition. Lots of colleges are envious of us.”

“They will not be very long,” said Dolly soberly.

There was really nothing to be said that could comfort Dolly. All that she asserted was only too true. None of the quartette were onthe athletic teams, but all of the students had been discussing the coming contests with grave faces.

“If we had not made the absurd rule that only Seniors could be in these contests, we might do something even yet. There is rather good material among the freshmen and sophomores.”

“But the other colleges only admit the seniors, so we could not be allowed to pick from all the classes. If only Ruth Armstrong were here!”

But Ruth, just then, was climbing the Alps, with no thought of her former classmates who stood in such dire need of her.

“Tell me once more on what contests you have finally decided.” Of course, it was Mary who asked the question; any other girl would have known.

“The idea of your not knowing!”

“Well, you have changed your minds so often, and I have been so busy with my new experiments, that I do not think it wonderful that I am not posted. Tell me, Dolly.”

“The faculties limited us to three contests.I felt indignant at the time, for I wanted a dozen, at least, but now I am ready to bow to their superior wisdom. The more contests there are, the more defeats there would be for us.”

“But how have you finally settled it?”

“We have settled and unsettled matters a dozen times, but our last decision is really final; there will be running and jumping, and, last of all, a boat race.”

“And we do not stand a show?”

“Not a ghost of a show for even second place,” and Dolly sighed. Being president, she felt as if the honor or disgrace of the college rested on her.

Mary broke the silence at last. “I have not gone in for athletics since I have been here, because I don’t care for such things, but I can do considerable in the running and jumping line. I can’t row at all, and I would be no good there, but if you want me to try and help you out in the other things, I will.”

“Why, Mary Sutherland, and you never said a word before! But you must be awfully out of practice. Do you actually think that you can save us from total disgrace?”

“I don’t know what the girls at the other colleges can do, so I am hardly prepared to say how much I can aid you, dear. I am not so fearfully out of practice, either. Every summer I have been kept in trim by my brothers, and really I can beat them both at running and jumping, when I am in good condition.”

“But that was nearly a year ago, Mary.”

“I know, but I have been to the gymnasium every night after my experiments. I have done all sorts of running and jumping there just to tire myself out so that I could sleep. No one has ever seen me at that time, and I never thought of your really needing my services. I expect that I have been horribly selfish.”

“You are just angelic now, for I know that you were planning to do a lot of extra work with Professor Reimer during these last days of college, and you would rather be with him than helping us out of a hole.”

That was so very true that Mary blushed. She had felt reluctant to even mention her prowess, but a second thought had made her ashamed of her hesitancy. What had not Dolly and these other friends of hersdone to make college life pleasant for her during the past four years? Mary herself could not get up much enthusiasm with regard to the athletics. If there were a scientific contest now!

“Come up to the gymnasium, girls, and I will get into my suit and show you what I can do. As I said, I practice almost every evening, for after the laboratory work I am so wide awake that I could never go to sleep at all. I found that out long ago. I would just lie in bed and think out different experiments. Of course, the next day my head felt like lead, and I was as stupid as an owl. So I resorted to the gymnasium. There is no trouble any more about my sleeping, for I tire myself out physically before I stop. Now, just wait a moment. I hope you will not be disappointed after all my boasting. I really do not know whether I am better than the rest of the girls you have picked out or not. I suppose I must be pretty good at running and jumping, because the boys think so, and they are usually very chary of their praise where sisters are concerned.”

But after the first five minutes there was no doubt in anyone’s mind as to Mary’s superiority over all the other girls. She was really fine. Dolly’s drooping spirits rose with a bound.

“I shall love you forever for saving the day for us, Mary. You are not out of practice a bit, but still you will let Mr. Thornbury have all your extra leisure until the games come off, won’t you? I hate to ask it,” Dolly went on hurriedly, for she knew that this would involve the giving up of all the extra laboratory work which Mary was doing. “But you will do it for the sake of the college, will you not?”

“Oh, yes. If I am going to go into this thing at all, I want to do my best. I didn’t see the trial competitions last year, but you and Beth did. How do I compare with the girls from the other colleges?”

“You do better than they did then, but I hear that they have been practicing hard ever since.”

“I will do my very best, Dolly; perhaps we can win a ‘second’ after all. Mr. Thornbury shall give me all the drilling and trainingthat he wishes to. My examinations are all over, and I really do not have to do a single thing more. I was doing the extra work with Professor Reimer just because it was such a wonderfully good chance.”

And Mary, true to her word, gave up all her time to gymnasium work. All of their friends came flocking to Westover for Commencement week. In fact, the closing ceremonies occupied nearly ten days.

All of the “diggers” had won their degrees, and also, rather to their astonishment, a place on the “honor” roll. Beth, as everyone expected, had taken the mathematical prize, Mary had been awarded the special prize given occasionally for exceptionally fine work along scientific lines, Margaret had won a year’s study abroad for the highest average throughout the entire course. Margery received an honorable mention for her work, but she was not eligible for any prize, as those were open only to students who went straight through the four years’ course, and Margery had not done that. There was an archaeological prize that went to Helen Stetson, and several other prizes or scholarships in post-graduatework that went to girls who had excelled in some special line.

The friends of the “diggers” were more than satisfied with the work that had been done by them. It seemed to Dolly as if everyone had come to Westover that she had ever known. All of Beth’s relatives and hers, even to the third and fourth cousins. Constance’s people were there, of course, and they did not fail to exert themselves to make Mrs. Hamilton comfortable and at ease. Her delight and pride in Margaret were something beautiful to see. The prize which she had so unexpectedly won, changed Margaret’s plans somewhat. She would go to Girton for a year’s study; her mother was also to go; there was money enough for that, for neither of them had been extravagant during these four years just past. A fine position was already promised Margaret on her return.

Mary had secured the coveted place in the preparatory school at Westover, and had arranged to do special work at the college next year. She had been very sober when the other girls had been talking about Commencement and their friends who were coming.It seemed hard to Mary that her father and mother could not be there. But she knew that such an expense was simply out of the question, and she tried to be content.

Then a most wonderful thing happened, just a fortnight before Commencement. Some one (Mary suspected Constance, though she never knew surely) had sent Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland two railroad tickets to Westover and return; there were Pullman seats enclosed, too, for the day on which they should depart, and so, after all, Mary’s father and mother were present. And if their hands were toilworn and their clothes very old-fashioned, Mary did not care. After all, in the great throng no one’s garments were noticed very particularly. It was only the graduating class that was especially scrutinized, and it was hard to tell whether the girls looked more enchanting in their white, filmy dresses or in their caps and gowns.

Class Day, with all its gayety, passed off brilliantly. Constance made a fine historian; Hazel Browne read the class poem, and it was very generally conceded, even among the old graduates, to be one of the best thingsthat had ever been read in the old Westover Hall. It was pungent and witty, without being at all bitter or malicious.

Dolly presided on all the numerous occasions necessitated by Commencement week, with a pretty dignity and grace that more than one person found very fascinating.

The weather was perfect, sunshiny and bright, but not overpoweringly hot, and the exercises went off with a smoothness that made Dolly wild with satisfaction and delight.

“You are getting altogether too proud, sister mine,” asserted Fred. “If Westover should actually happen to win something in tomorrow’s contest, there will be no living with you.”

“I am proud of the girls and of the college, and of everything connected with it.”

“To tell the truth, I am rather proud of you! I don’t wish to make you conceited and all puffed up with vanity, but really, Dolly, you make a first-class president. We are just brimming over with pride. Can’t you see how satisfied Father and Mother are looking? You owe me something for getting Rob to coach you last year. I verily believethat you were just about ready to give up then.”

“I was, for a fact, and I shall be grateful to you all my life, Fred, for what you planned. Just think of missing this,” and Dolly drew a deep breath.

“It would have been too bad, that’s sure,” affirmed Dick Martin, who chanced to be present. “I never saw a more ideal Commencement. Perfect weather, lovely girls and original programs. How did you ever manage it all so smoothly, Miss Dolly? I see that your special friends captured the choicest prizes and scholarships. Was it all a prearranged plan? Things went your way–you could hardly ask anything more than you and your friends got.”

“Yes, I could,” and Dolly sobered down. “The athletic contests come tomorrow, the very last thing on our program. We could not get them in before, and perhaps it is just as well, for I do not expect that we shall win any glory.”

“I thought Fred said that Miss Sutherland was to save the day for you?”

“She is our only hope; the rest of the girlsdo not amount to anything. But Vassar and Smith, to say nothing of Cornell and Wellesley and Mount Holyoke, have been boasting so securely since they arrived that our hopes are now below zero.”

“You are anxious to win?”

“Very. Westover has been out of all athletic contests for so long that we want to get our place again, and if our own particular class could achieve that, we should feel that we had nothing more to ask.”

“I should say you wouldn’t have, for your class is leaving a great record here, that is sure. I have faith in your friend. I believe that she will help you out, despite all the boasting of the others.”

“I hope you are right. I do hope it. I shall be so glad, so glad–”

“So glad, that you will grant all sorts of favors?” her companion asked, as they sauntered slowly over the lawn. Fred had disappeared in search of Mary.

“Yes, quite glad enough to do anything for anyone,” asserted Dolly recklessly. A moment later she caught her breath, and wished she had not said just that.

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