Solemnity, even momentary, could not long survive the unique presence of Charlie Stevens. Hardly had the first congratulations been extended when Charlie loudly expressed himself to Marjorie.
“I was going to marry you myself, Marj’rie, but I sha’n’t. You’re a good deal too tall and old to make me a nice wife,” he pleasantly observed. “That’s quite a pretty dress you’ve got on. Someone else, maybe someone as tall as Laurie or Hal might like to marry you—someday. I wouldn’t. I like you, Marj’rie, ’bout the best of all, next to Connie and Mary Raymond, but I’d rather stay at home with Uncle John than get married.”
“I think it is just as well you changed your mind, Charlie.” Marjorie joined in the laughter at her expense. Her color had deepened a trifle at Charlie’s hopeful prophecy that someone as tall as Hal might like to marry her some day.
“I think so, too,” Charlie agreed importantly. “I may get married when I’m about a hundred. I’ll be a good deal taller then. I and my wife will come to your house to see Delia and have her give us some choc’lit cake.”
Well satisfied with this plan, he trotted off after his idol, Uncle John Roland, who could not look at Connie without tears. He had left the group gathered about the bridal couple until he was again able to control his emotions.
Laurie and Constance had elected to spend a week’s honeymoon in the Armitages’ New York home, which Laurie had been preparing for his bride for three months before their marriage. From there they would sail for Europe. They were to leave Sanford on the eleven o’clock express for New York.
Constance’s last act before changing her wedding dress for travel attire was to throw her bouquet from the open staircase down among her girl friends. Muriel Harding captured it, thereby bringing down upon herself plenty of good-natured raillery.Marjorie had tried with the others to catch the bouquet, as a matter of sport. She was secretly glad when it fled past her and almost into Muriel’s hands. While she had taken the utmost interest in Connie’s wedding, she did not wish to be reminded, even by a fragrant floral sign, that somewhere in the future lurked a wedding day for herself.
Returned to Hamilton from the Thanksgiving holiday, the most important subject on Marjorie’s horizon was that of the real estate transaction she and Robin Page hoped to close with Mr. Cutler. He had stated that the owner of the boarding house properties would be in Hamilton after Thanksgiving. Both she and Robin were impatient to hear from the agent, yet neither felt like forcing matters.
It was over a week after Thanksgiving when Marjorie joyfully pounced upon a letter in the Hall bulletin board, addressed to her, and bearing the agent’s printed address in the upper left hand corner. The four typed lines which comprised the letter stated that the owner of the properties in which they were interested would be in Hamilton on the following Monday. Mr. Cutler requested them to call at his office at four o’clock of the succeeding Wednesday afternoon.
“I’ll be glad to have this part of our great undertaking settled and off my mind,” Marjorie buoyantly told Robin that afternoon as the two girls left Science Hall together. Marjorie had stopped at the Biological Laboratory for Robin in order to acquaint her with the welcome news.
“When we know definitely how much the properties are going to cost us we will have more incentive to go ahead and rush our first show of the season through. Nothing like knowing exactly where one stands, is there?” Robin finished interrogatively.
Marjorie quickly agreed with this statement. Her naturally orderly mind clamored for the suspense to end so that the real work might begin.
“It will be a good thing to have it off our chests by Wednesday,” she congratulated. “Saturday’s the first freshie-soph game, you know. We will have to be present. I can look forward to enjoying it, with this important question settled.”
“Did that Miss Hurst answer your note?” Robin inquired. “I meant to ask you that before and kept forgetting it.”
“No, she did not. The team practiced on the Friday after I wrote it. I dropped in purposely to watch those four girls. There were at least fifty students there besides myself. Miss Forbes madea beautiful toss to basket. You should have heard the applause. The four kickers looked miffed but they didn’t try any hatefulness with her, so far as I could see. I asked her that evening if matters had improved in that respect and she said they certainly had. I haven’t been to practice since Thanksgiving.”
“I stopped at the gym yesterday to watch the freshies. Phil was anxious to see them work. Miss Forbes was leading the team, as usual, in fast work. She seemed to be getting along with them very well. Your letter had a potent effect, I guess. I have no patience with small natures.” Robin frowned her utter contempt for such marked ignobility.
“Nor I. If Miss Forbes should play a brilliant game on next Saturday she would be established as a star and her team-mates would have to be very careful how they treated her afterward. I hope she does. I believe she will.”
With that Marjorie changed the subject by asking Robin to go to the Hall with her and remain to dinner. “We can go a long way toward planning our next entertainment. I imagine a play would be interesting for a starter. Leila makes a fine stage manager. Katherine Langly wrote a romantic play called ‘The Maid of Honor.’ It is a truly thrilling drama of the English Court during the reign ofQueen Elizabeth. During my soph year we talked of giving it. Miss Remson said there was a large cedar chest in the attic of the Hall full of courtier costumes. The students of several years back used them in giving Shakespearian plays.” Marjorie’s usual resourcefulness came to the surface.
“That would be great!” Robin was all enthusiasm at the proposal. “Katherine Langly ought to become a writer or a playwright or something literary. She has written articles and verses and short stories, so I have heard, just for literary practice. She has never tried to sell one of them. She belongs to the Silver Pen, doesn’t she?”
“Yes. She was invited to join it during her freshman year. Think of that! She composed a theme for her English class, and the style was so perfect, Miss Faber read it out to the class,” related Marjorie. “Soon after that she was invited to join the Silver Pen. Leila has often spoken of what fine girls some of the seniors were that year. She belongs to the Silver Pen, too. She was invited to join in her soph year.”
“Portia belongs,” returned Robin. “She is the only one of our crowd who made it. The others of us incline more toward music, I suppose. Phil is thinking of founding a musical sorority. That would be an innovation at Hamilton.”
Full of the new project of producing Katherine’s play, Marjorie and Robin could not resist going over to Randolph House that evening to see Kathie and ask her permission to their plan. At first she demurred. Finally she went to the trouble of hunting for it in the bottom of her trunk so that Robin might read it. The fact that the two girls desired it as a money-maker for their worthy undertaking carried weight with her. She gave her consent, her only objection having been that it was only “trash” and not good enough for a production in a literary sense.
When Marjorie opened her eyes the following Wednesday, on a cold December morning, her first thought was of her appointment that day. She half dreaded consulting the Hall bulletin board for fear of finding another disappointing letter from the agent. None appeared. She met Robin at half-past two that afternoon. They hailed a taxicab for the town of Hamilton, arriving at Mr. Cutler’s office a few minutes before three.
As they were a little early, they were obliged to wait for the agent to finish the business he was transacting with two men. Marjorie drew a long expectant breath as the door to the street closed finally on the agent’s masculine callers.
“Will you young ladies please come into my privateoffice?” he said, after greeting them in his courteous fashion. He opened the door for them and stood aside for them to enter.
The trio seated in the inner office, Mr. Cutler faced the two seniors with an expression that vaguely discomfited Marjorie. While she never tried to read the faces of those with whom she came into contact, she had a peculiar sense of divination which rarely failed her. The agent’s features betrayed no indication of having pleasant news to offer them. On the contrary they were rather tensely set.
“I am very sorry to tell you,” he began, and the hearts of both girls sank, “that the properties which you wished to buy have been sold.” He jerked the words out as though anxious to be done with the disheartening information.
“Sold?” came the questioning chorus. Marjorie and Robin stared at Mr. Cutler, then at each other.
“Yes. Let me explain. When I wrote you, Miss Dean, and made the appointment for today, I did not know this. The properties were unsold when Mr. Saxe, the owner, went to Chicago. In fact, there had been no demand for them. The surprising part of the affair is that the purchaser, on learning that Mr. Saxe was in Chicago, went there to see him. I did not furnish the address nor the informationconcerning these properties. The sale was conducted entirely away from me. The purchaser must have wanted them very much. Mr. Saxe was offered sixty thousand dollars for them. Naturally he accepted, at once.”
“Sixty thousand dollars!” exclaimed Robin in a wondering tone. “That is a great deal more than we could have paid.”
“I asked him what his own price would have been,” continued Mr. Cutler. “He put it at forty thousand dollars. Not far, you see, from my estimate. They were purchased by a young woman, a Miss Cairns, I believe her name was. She may have been acting as agent for a private party. I don’t know. It is rather a mystery to me—the whole transaction. I was sorry for myself as well,” he added whimsically. “It lost me a good fat commission.”
Neither Marjorie nor Robin said a word. It had taken not more than an instant’s reckoning to decide that “Miss Cairns” must be Leslie Cairns, ex-student of Hamilton College. They knew she had been staying in the town of Hamilton. They knew of no other Miss Cairns.
“She must have known we wanted them!” Robin cried out resentfully, forgetting for a second the agent’s presence.
“Did I understand you to say—” Mr. Cutler stopped. He did not in the least understand Robin’s remark.
“Then there is no use in our wasting your time, Mr. Cutler,” Marjorie said, rising. “We are disappointed, of course. We must look about us for another site. That’s all. When we find one we will come to you and have you make the inquiries about it. We shall build our dormitory somewhere in the neighborhood of the campus, some day.” She flashed the agent a dauntless little smile.
“It is too bad; too bad,” he repeated. “I was greatly interested in your plan. Do either of you, by chance, know this Miss Cairns? The name is unfamiliar to me as of this town.”
“We know of her. We do not know her personally. She is a very rich woman, in her own right, I have been told.” It was Robin who now made answer.
“Mr. Saxe said she paid cash for the properties,” nodded the agent.
“So far as we are concerned, we could have paid the price in cash of sixty thousand dollars. One of our sorority members had offered to finance us. We were to pay the debt to her at leisure. We felt it not right to tax the students-to-come, at Hamilton, with too heavy a burden of debt. We are in our senior year and just starting this movement. Weshall appoint certain students to replace us in this work when we have been graduated from Hamilton. They in turn will choose their successors.” Marjorie took the trouble to make this explanation because of Mr. Cutler’s genuine interest in their venture.
“Well, it is a noble ambition,” praised the agent. “I will remember your need and look about me for a suitable site for your dormitory. One never knows what may develop. Now if you could buy that open strip of ground belonging to the Carden estate, it would be ideal for your purpose. The Cardens, those left of the family, are in Europe most of the time. They might decide suddenly to sell their estate. I’ll keep you in mind,” he assured.
“What do you think of that?” were Robin’s first words, spoken out of earshot of the agent.
“What doyouthink?” countered Marjorie. Her tones bordered on bitterness. She was disturbed far more than she had shown while in the office.
“Just what I said in there.” Robin indicated the office with a backward movement of her head. “She knew we wanted them and bought them on purpose to thwart us. She has been in Hamilton since last summer. How did she find out our plan, I wonder?”
“That’s a question hard to answer. She musthave heard something concerning it last year after our show. It wasn’t what one could call a secret. I mean the talk of building a dormitory. What seems queer to me is this. The moment we got in touch with Mr. Cutler, Miss Cairns hurried to Chicago to head off this Mr. Saxe before we could see him. We know Mr. Cutler did not tell her of us. He said he had never met her. She has heard something about it this fall.”
“Then she must be friendly and in communication with certain students on the campus,” was Robin’s conjecture.
“Undoubtedly.” Marjorie did not mention what she had observed on her way to mail the letter before the Thanksgiving vacation. It was of no particular use, she reflected. The properties were gone, the subject of them and their present owner might better be entirely dismissed.
“Hateful old snake!” was Robin’s wrathful opinion of Leslie Cairns. “The idea of her coming back and living near the college after the disgrace of having been expelled!”
“We’ll have to make the best of it. It needn’t hinder us from going on and giving our play. The more money we earn, the more of our own we’ll have when we find a site. Never say die, Robin. That is the only way to do.” Marjorie was recoveringfrom the damper she had lately received. “It will all come out for the best. Remember what I say, and see if it doesn’t. Some day we may be very glad we didn’t get those properties. That is poor consolation just now, I know.”
“Oh, I’m not cast into the depths,” Robin replied in a lighter tone. “Nothing worth while is ever gained without a struggle. Leslie Cairns may find one of these days that she’d far rather have her sixty thousand dollars back than be the owner of those properties. I only hope she does.”
At a meeting of the Nineteen Travelers in Robin’s room, a howl of indignation went up over the loss of the desired real estate. Discussion grew apace when Leslie Cairns’ part in the transaction was revealed. More than one girl among them named Elizabeth Walbert as the source from which Leslie had received information of the intended movement toward erecting a dormitory. Marjorie soon learned that she was not the only one who had seen the two girls driving together.
This grave set-back only served to make the new sorority more determined to carry out their project. Marjorie having brought Kathie’s play with her, she invited Leila to read it to the company. It was received with acclamation. Before the Travelers separated that evening, the parts had all been assigned. Lucy had volunteered the typing of each part during the evenings. She was sure that President Matthews would not object to her use of thetypewriting machine in his home office. With rehearsals under way at once, they hoped to give a performance of the play soon after New Years. Leila, Vera and Helen offered to go to the attic of Wayland Hall and inspect the chest of costumes. Vera laughingly announced herself as wardrobe mistress. Leila accepted the post of stage manager and threatened to be “a bully of some bad manners and a roaring voice, if you show yourselves too stupid.”
The Saturday succeeding Marjorie’s and Robin’s disappointment sent Augusta Forbes to the heights of stardom in the basket ball arena. She went into the game fiercely resolving to outplay her team-mates if she could. She was in the pink of condition and played with more snap and precision than Marjorie had ever seen her exhibit. She carried her team, who did not distinguish themselves, on to victory by her sensational plays. The freshmen won over the sophomores by eight points. Gussie was riotously lauded, as she deserved to be, and escorted in triumph about the gymnasium by the usual admiring mob of jubilant fans.
That evening she came to Marjorie’s door and called her into the hall.
“I can’t stay a minute,” she commenced in evident embarrassment. “I only want to say that I couldn’t have played so well if it hadn’t been foryou. I was losing my nerve until you made those girls let me alone. One of them was really pleasant to me today. The others haven’t been quite so snippy as before. Thank you, until I can do something splendid for you.”
She turned and fairly ran down the hall, leaving Marjorie to look smilingly after her. She had not had time to say a word in return for the impulsive little recognition of her own worth.
“Why don’t you invite your company inside the room instead of whispering to them in the hall?” demanded Jerry with a ferocious scowl, as Marjorie re-entered. “Once I was your honored confidant. Now I am—What am I? An idiot, let us say, for studying Political Science. It’s werry dry and werry hard, Bean.”
“You are still my honored confidant. I never considered you an idiot, and I loathe Political Science. I wasn’t whispering outside the door, though. I was talking tol’enfant angelique, suppose we call her. She came to tell me that the other girls on the team are minding their own affairs as they should.”
“I’m amazed,” Jerry retorted genially. “Gloomy Gus has certainly arrived. She was a whirlwind today. Without her the freshies would not have whipped the sophs. She’s agile, and has a good eyefor the basket. She landed some beauties this afternoon.”
Marjorie seconded this opinion. After a further remark or two, Jerry turned her attention to the despised intricacies of Political Science. Marjorie made a valiant effort to study, but her mind roved to her personal affairs. She finally took paper and pencil and began to jot down the various things she must do before going home for the Christmas holidays.
Paramount among them was a visit she must make to Miss Susanna. The nine girls whom the old lady had taken into her liking had already ordered their tribute of flowers to be sent to her on the day before Christmas. Marjorie always felt rather timid about going to Hamilton Arms without a special invitation. She had done so once or twice that fall, as Miss Susanna had invited her to come to the Arms at any time. She finally decided to write her eccentric friend a note, asking permission to spend a part of the next Sunday afternoon with her. That would really be the only free time she would have before Christmas. College would close the following Thursday for the Yuletide holidays.
In the light of after events Marjorie looked back on that particular Sunday afternoon as having been, the most perfect visit she had ever made Miss Susanna.The old lady unbent conversationally to a marked degree. She related incidents concerning her life at Hamilton Arms, and also that of her distinguished uncle, Brooke Hamilton, which, ordinarily, would have remained obstinately locked behind her stubborn lips.
Listening to Marjorie’s account of the recent failure of the Nineteen Travelers to secure the site for the proposed dormitory, Miss Susanna waxed quite indignant over the manner in which the loss had been effected.
“Too bad that man Cutler didn’t have John Saxe’s address,” she said tersely. “I know John very well. I remember him as a youngster in kilts. I have been told that Cutler is an honorable gentleman. That’s saying a good deal for a real estate agent in these days of trickery.”
“He spoke of that piece of ground beyond those two blocks of houses which belongs to the Carden estate. He said the Cardens might decide to sell it some day.” Marjorie spoke with the unfailing optimism of youth.
“Not to anyone connected with Hamilton College.” Miss Susanna’s face had set harshly at mention of the name Carden. “Alec Carden was the man I had trouble with that wound up my interest in Hamilton College. He is dead now. He had two sons, both married and the heads of families. Oneof them lives at Carden Hedge, off and on. The other is a financier in New York, I believe. They were always a hard, tricky, dishonorable set. But enough of them. Cutler didn’t say who owned that block of houses below the one you lost, did he?”
“Why, no,” Marjorie replied after brief reflection. “I can’t recall that he said more than that they were not for sale.”
“Indeed, they are not for sale!” exclaimed Miss Hamilton. “Those houses belong to me. Uncle Brooke once owned the other block. He sold it to John Saxe’s father.”
“Then we need never hope to build our dormitory where your houses now stand.” Marjorie could not resist saying this. She smiled, looking her hostess squarely in the eyes as she uttered the pointed remark.
It appeared to amuse Miss Susanna immensely. She laughed and said: “You are a straightforward child, aren’t you? To please you I would be glad to part with those properties for a small sum. I can’t consider the situation from that standpoint, unfortunately. I am done with Hamilton College. That settles the matter. Suppose we talk about something else.”
Quite accustomed to the old lady’s moods, Marjorie obligingly complied with the preemptory request. Neither did she allow it to intrude upon hermind until she had left Miss Susanna that evening. She carried with her a basket of be-ribboned packages to be distributed among the eight girls of Miss Susanna’s acquaintance. The old lady’s emphatic order had been: “These are to be opened on Christmas morning; not a minute before.”
As she hurried lightly along over the frozen ground, Marjorie wondered mightily what dire calamity had been precipitated to incur such implacable hatred against Hamilton College as Miss Susanna plainly harbored. She could never think of it rather than sorrowfully. It seemed so sad, that, after all the time and labor and love Brooke Hamilton had lavished upon the college, one of his own kin should be its most unrelenting enemy.
Meanwhile Miss Hamilton had rung for Jonas and was repeating to him all that Marjorie had said to her. Jonas occupied in her household the position of manager, servitor and valued friend. He was close to eighty years of age and had been at Hamilton Arms even longer than had Miss Susanna. He had, as a young man, served Brooke Hamilton faithfully during the latter’s declining years.
“By right, Jonas, I ought to turn over that property to those energetic youngsters,” she asserted in her quick, matter-of-fact fashion. “Their object is really a worthy one.”
“They are trying to carry onhiswork,” Jonas rejoined solemnly. “He would have wanted it to be so, Miss Susanna.”
“Oh, I know it, Jonas; I know it.” There was more than a shade of regret in the admission. “I can’t overlook some things. The college doesn’t deserve it from me; not after the way I was treated by the Board. No; they can’t have it. If there was any good way to get hold of that strip of open ground of Cardens, I’d do it. Cutler could be trusted to sell it to Marjorie, and her friend Robin, without mentioning me in the transaction. I’d do it only to please the child, though; only to please her.”
Rehearsals of “The Maid of Honor” had been begun before the holiday vacation. Returned from their fortnight’s recreation, it did not take the illustrious cast long to pick up again in their parts. Muriel, much to her amazement, had been chosen for Berenice, the heroine. Jerry reveled in the part of Piccato, the jester. Leila was to play the male lead of Florenzo, an ambassador from the Spanish Court. He falls desperately in love with Berenice, who has been promised from childhood to Lord Carstairs, an English nobleman, favored by Queen Elizabeth for his harshly dominating personality. Ronny was cast for Narita, a court dancer, who finally aids Berenice to escape from England with Florenzo, her courtier husband, whom she has secretly married.
On account of her height and breadth of shoulder, Augusta Forbes had been asked to take the part of Lord Carstairs. For several days after Leila hadrequisitioned her services as an actor, she went about with her head in the clouds. Her chums were no less pleased over the honor that had fallen to “Gus.” Neither had they been forgotten. The play required a large number of extra persons for courtiers, ladies in waiting, etc. The Bertram girls were among the first invited to grace the stage in these minor rôles.
Luckily for the managers of the performance, the cedar chest in the attic furnished enough really gorgeous court costumes to fit out the principal male characters. This was due to the fact of the small percentage of women in the Shakespearian dramas for which the costumes had been originally fashioned. As neither Leila, Vera, Helen nor Martha Merrick were overburdened with subjects, they took upon themselves the getting together of the costumes for the feminine contingent.
On a Friday evening, the latter part of January, “The Maid of Honor” was presented to an overflowing house. The gymnasium had, as usual, served as theatre on account of its seating capacity. While the stage of Greek Hall was much better as a stage, its auditorium would hold not more than two hundred persons.
Actors, author and managers received enough applause during the play, and enough adulation afterward, to turn their youthful heads. Honorswere so evenly divided among the principals it was hard to say who deserved the most praise. Katherine, as author, received, perhaps, the most admiring tribute of them all.
Acting upon Jerry’s shrewd advice, two dollars had been set as the price of admission with no reserved seats. She had argued that two dollars was less than persons of their means usually paid for seats at a theatre. In order not to leave out the off-the-campus girls, Ronny had counted them up and bought tickets for them. These she commissioned Anna Towne to distribute with the stern warning: “Don’t one of your crowd dare stay away from our play.”
The net receipts of the play amounted to eleven hundred, forty dollars, which the gratified managers banked with gleeful satisfaction. Immediately they set to work on a new play, also by Kathie, entitled, “The Wyshinge Welle,” a drama of the Saxons in Ethelbert’s time. This was hailed with jubilation by Leila, who was especially fond of the life of this period of history. The latter part of February would see its presentation. If the promoters of drama at Hamilton found it did not interfere too greatly with their studies, they planned to give two more plays, a musical revue and a concert before the closing of the college in June.
After the stir occasioned by “The Maid ofHonor” had died out came a restful lull. January vanished rapidly into the deep pocket of the year. February arrived, sharp and blustering in its early days; warm and full of frequent thaws toward its close. Sunshine and absence of snow made it fine weather for automobiling, and the students of Hamilton were quick to take advantage of it.
“A lot of girls are out with their cars today,” Marjorie observed to Jerry as she stood before the mirror of her dressing table adjusting her hat. “I almost wish I had one. Still, I don’t need it, and it would be an extravagance for me. I wouldn’t have a cent to give toward the dormitory. That’s why Robin and some of the other Travelers won’t have their cars here. The upkeep is so great. At home, garage rent is not more than ten dollars a month. The girls here pay from fifteen to twenty.”
“That’s because they are a college crowd. A garage proprietor figures that a girl who can afford to keep a car at Hamilton can afford to pay a good, stiff garage rent,” declared Jerry shrewdly.
“Correct, as usual, Jeremiah.” Marjorie turned from the mirror and began drawing on her gloves.
“My head is level, Bean; extremely so. I suppose you won’t be back before nine o’clock.”
“About that time. What shall I say to Miss Susanna for you?” It being Saturday afternoon, Marjorie was on the point of setting out for HamiltonArms. She had received a note from Miss Susanna on the day previous inviting her to spend the afternoon and take dinner at the Arms.
“Tell her to invite me next time,” modestly requested Jerry. “Remind her that she hasn’t entertained the crowd of us since before Christmas.”
“I believe Iwilltell her that, Jeremiah.” Marjorie tipped her head to one side and regarded her room-mate with apparent seriousness.
“If you do,” Jerry looked startled, “I’ll never forgive you, Marjorie Dean.”
“Then I won’t tell her.” Marjorie’s sober face relaxed into a teasing smile.
“Uh-h; I guess not,” Jerry smiled with her. “I don’t know what I shall do this afternoon. Hunt up Helen and make her take me to ride, maybe. Oh, I forgot. Leila is going to West Hamilton. She said she’d take me with her. I’m saved from my own society.”
“I wish you were going with me.” Marjorie paused regretfully, hand on the door knob.
“Don’t worry over me, as Danny Seabrooke loves to say. Beat it.” Jerry waved a jesting hand at Marjorie. “Shoo! Begone!”
Laughing, Marjorie went. As she left the college gates behind her she was thrilled with the joy of being alive on such a day. The clear skies, brilliant sunshine and pleasant tang in the air inspiredjoy of living. Once on the highway, several girls driving their cars called out to her, asking her to ride. To each invitation she smilingly said “No.” In the first place she could not very well ask a student she might ride with to drop her at Hamilton Arms. In the second place she infinitely preferred to walk.
“It is such a fine day I thought you might like to take a walk with me to see my head gardener,” Miss Hamilton proposed shortly after Marjorie’s arrival. “He fell on the ice not long ago and broke his arm. I am going to take him a basket of fruit and dainties. I am not fond of making calls, but I always try to look after my people when they have sickness or are in distress.”
“I’d love to go with you,” Marjorie heartily assured. “I’ll carry the basket in memory of one other day when I carried a basket for you.”
“A very fortunate day it was for me.” Miss Susanna smiled brightly upon the pretty senior. Her affection for Marjorie was the brightest spot in her secluded life.
“We can’t avoid taking the highway for some distance,” deplored the old lady as they walked down the drive toward the entrance gates. “My gardener lives not far from it, but almost half a mile from here. There is a gardener’s house on the estate, but he owns his home and prefers to live there.This is just the kind of day for your Hamilton girls to be filling the highway with their automobiles. It is taking one’s life into one’s hands to venture along the road when they and their cars are out in numbers.”
There was distinct aggressiveness in the speech. Miss Hamilton cherished a rooted antipathy for automobiles. She still kept in the Arms stable a pair of thoroughbred coach horses for her own use. Nothing could tempt her to ride in a motor car.
From Hamilton Arms to the adjoining estate the pike was broad, with wide level footpaths on each side. They could travel this portion of it without fear of accident from passing automobiles. A gradual curve in the road at the beginning of the next estate and it narrowed, continuing for two hundred yards or more between two slight elevations. It was the only “tricky” stretch of the highway, as Leila had often remarked when driving over it.
The top of these elevations formed footpaths only wide enough to permit the passing of persons, single file. The February thaw had left them too muddy to be used by pedestrians. It was a case of either take to the pike itself or walk in the mud.
“A nice state of affairs!” Miss Susanna exclaimed, her eyes snapping. “This is the way those good-for-nothing Cardens left their part of the highway. These banks should be leveled even withthe roadbed. Then they would be fit to walk on. Catch the Cardens spending any money for the good of the public! Compare the appearance of their estate with that of Hamilton Arms! Quite a difference, isn’t there?”
“I should say so.” Interested in what Miss Susanna was saying, Marjorie had relaxed for a moment her vigilant watch on the road. She now gazed critically at the wide, but not specially ornamental grounds surrounding the colonial residence which housed the hated Cardens when at home. She saw clearly the inferiority of this estate as compared to the dignity of ever-beautiful Hamilton Arms.
A sharp little shout of alarm, and her attention leaped to the road again. Around the curve, coming toward them, a car had dashed at full speed. Miss Susanna had cried out as she attempted to dodge it. So abruptly had it appeared around the curve she had not seen it until it was directly upon her. The driver lacked the skill to turn the car aside quickly enough to avert the calamity. Marjorie added her cry of horror to Miss Hamilton’s. Before she could drag her elderly friend out of danger, she saw her apparently flung to one side. The devastating motor car gave a wicked lurch and whizzed on.
Bewildered by the suddenness of the accident, Marjorie stared unbelievingly when she next beheldMiss Susanna not only move but raise herself from the ground to a sitting posture. Sight of this apparent miracle galvanized her into action. She sprang to Miss Hamilton calling out:
“Oh, Miss Susanna, I’m so thankful you weren’t run over. Tell me where you are hurt. I saw the car fling you and——”
“The car didn’t touch me. I made a leap and fell down just beyond it by not more than an inch or two. My foot slipped in the soft mud. I am all right. Help me up, child.”
Marjorie had not attempted to raise the old lady to her feet before ascertaining whether she were able to stand. She now lifted her up with her grateful, young strength, exclaiming indignant sympathy over the muddy condition of Miss Hamilton’s long coat of fine black broadcloth.
“Can you walk, Miss Susanna, or do you feel too much shaken? Perhaps you ought to stand still for a few minutes until you recover from the shock. Plenty of taxicabs from the station or the taxi stand below the campus pass here. I could hail one for you if you would ride in it to the gardener’s house.”
“No, not for me,” refused the old lady with sharp decision. “I shall turn back and go home. I will send Jonas with the basket this evening.”
“Take my arm. I can carry the basket with my other hand.” As she talked Marjorie had busiedherself in brushing off what she could of the mud from the old lady’s coat. Miss Susanna’s hat was still jammed over one eye. Her small, sturdy hands were plastered with sticky mud. “Let me straighten your hat. There! Now hold out your hands.” Marjorie wiped them with her own handkerchief.
“Such a catastrophe,” scolded Miss Hamilton, “and at my age! And all on account of a reckless girl driver! I think I had better take your arm, Marjorie. Can you manage to support me and carry that basket, too?”
Assuring Miss Hamilton that she could, the two slowly retraced their steps. A reaction soon setting in, Miss Susanna became silent for a time. Marjorie said nothing, fearing conversation might prove an undue strain upon the victim of the accident.
“The least that young savage could have done was to come back and see if there were any casualties,” Miss Hamilton burst forth abruptly as they entered the gateway of the Arms. She had now sufficiently recovered from the shock to feel belligerent toward the culprit. “A Hamilton girl, I suppose. Did you recognize her, Marjorie?”
“Yes; I know who she is,” Marjorie replied reluctantly.
“Very good. I shall report her to President Matthews,” announced Miss Susanna, wagging her head. “You are to tell me her name, or, better still,you and I will go together to his office and report her.”
Marjorie felt consternation rise within her. The last thing in the world she wished to do was to go to President Matthews’ office on such an errand, even with Miss Susanna. Quick as a flash came the reminder of the president’s threat to ban automobiles at Hamilton, made at the time of the accident to Katherine Langly.
“Miss Susanna,” she began impulsively, hardly knowing how to speak her mind without giving offense, “I know that girl who nearly ran you down deserves to be reported. She has the reputation of being a poor driver, and a very reckless one. Most of the Hamilton girls who drive cars are careful. Two years ago, Miss Cairns, the one who bought the properties from us, ran down Katherine. She was ill two weeks from the shock. She just missed having her spine permanently injured. She did not report Miss Cairns to President Matthews but——”
“And you think because Katherine was simpleton enough to allow a murderous act like that to go unpunished that I ought to do likewise,” supplied Miss Susanna in a whip-like tone of anger which Marjorie had never before heard her use. “You are——”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Susanna, I did not mean——” Marjorie re-commenced in a distressed voice.
“Listen to me.” The irate old lady held up her hand by way of command. “You are talking utter nonsense.” The last of the Hamiltons was not accustomed to being crossed. Shaken by her fall, she was now in a highly querulous state, common to those over sixty. “Not report that young heathen—ridiculous! This girl must be a friend of yours whom you are trying to shield. Certainly I shall report her. I hold it important to do so. You may know how important I consider reporting her when I propose going to your president myself. I—who have not set foot on the campus for years. I find I am not well enough to have you at the Arms to dinner this evening. I will bid you good afternoon. Set the basket on the steps.”
They had reached the broad flight of stone steps leading to the veranda of the Arms as the offended great-niece of Brooke Hamilton snapped out these pithy statements.
“Good afternoon, Miss Susanna.” The piteous light in Marjorie’s eyes changed to one of justly wounded pride. Very gently she set the basket on the top step and turned away. Her friendship with the last of the Hamiltons had terminated as abruptly as it had begun.
“For goodness’ sake what brought you home in such a hurry?” Jerry came breezily into the room just before six o’clock to find Marjorie sitting by a window. In her hand was an open book. Her eyes were not fixed upon it. They looked absently out upon the brown sweep of campus. There was a pathetic droop to her red lips which Jerry did not miss.
“What’s the matter, Bean; dearie dearest Bean?” she commiserated, going up to Marjorie and dropping her hands sympathetically upon her chum’s shoulders.
“I—oh, Jeremiah, I just feel sad—that’s all.” Marjorie’s chin quivered suspiciously.
She had turned away from Miss Susanna feeling like a child who was being sent home for bad behavior. She had been entirely misunderstood. She had quickly realized the utter futility of attempting to make herself clear under the circumstances. So she had proudly accepted her dismissal.
“Tell your old friend, Jeremiah, all about it,” coaxed Jerry. She took her hands from Marjorie’s shoulders and employed them in drawing up a chair. Placing it directly opposite Marjorie she sat down, leaned far forward and beamed on her vis-a-vis with an ingratiating show of white teeth.
The ghost of a smile reluctantly crept to Marjorie’s lips. That particular expression of Jerry’s was irresistible. She reached out and gratefully patted Jerry’s hand.
“Thanks for the pat.” Jerry continued to beam. “Next we will hear your sad story. I believe you have been crying, Marjorie Dean!” she accused in sudden concern. “Tell me what and who made you cry and I will go forth on the war path!”
“You can’t, this time. It—was Miss Susanna.” Marjorie swallowed the rising lump in her throat and steadied her voice. “She misunderstood me. I can never go to Hamilton Arms again.”
“Good night! Thatistough luck! Poor Marjorie; no wonder you feel all broken up.”
Inspirited by Jerry’s warm sympathy, Marjorie related, with an occasional catch in her voice, the afternoon’s direful events.
“I wasn’t going to ask Miss Susanna not to report Miss Walbert,” Marjorie sorrowfully explained. “I was going to ask her please not to make it any harder for the other girls who have cars here thanshe could help. I spoke of Kathie’s accident because I wished her to know what President Matthews had said about banning automobiles at Hamilton. I was going to tell her that someone else reported Miss Cairns for running down Kathie when she stopped me. She thought I was holding Kathie up to her as a glowing example, and I never meant it that way,” Marjorie mournfully concluded.
“She had no business to cut you off without a hearing,” Jerry criticized with some resentment. “I always had an idea she was like that. Well, the gun-powder mine didn’t blow up as soon as I thought it would. This is the first squabble you two have had. She will get over it. She loves you dearly. After she descends from her pinnacle of wrath she will probably think things over and write you a note.”
Marjorie shook her head with somber positiveness. “No, she won’t. She considers me in the wrong. She didn’t even give me time to tell her Miss Walbert’s name. I should have known better than to say a word so soon after the accident. She was shaken and generally upset. I spoke before I thought. Miss Susanna seems more like one of us than an old lady. I am always forgetting her age. She is so brisk and energetic.”
“I don’t believe she will go to Doctor Matthews. She may write him a note. I doubt it, though.”
“I think she will go to see him. She was so very angry. It is my duty to write her a note and give her Miss Walbert’s name. She asked me for it, and she has a right to it.” Marjorie fell silent with the contemplation of this idea.
“Who was with the would-be-murderess of innocent pedestrians?” Jerry questioned sarcastically.
“A freshman from Alston Terrace,” Marjorie answered. “I never saw her with Miss Walbert before. I have seen her once or twice with Miss Forbes.”
“She must be fond of extremes,” commented Jerry. “Miss Run-’em-down Walbert has a horrible reputation on the campus as a driver. I wish Doctor Matthews would rise up in his might and ban her as a no-good motorist and nuisance. The Hamiltonites would tender him a laurel wreath, or a diamond medal, or something quite nice,” finished Jerry with a chuckle.
“If it were she alone who would be punished, I shouldn’t care. I told Miss Susanna she deserved to be reported. It was the innocent I was thinking of; not the guilty. Cars are a convenience as well as a pleasure when they are in the hands of girls like Leila, Vera, Helen and some others. I shall write a note to Miss Susanna and try to explain myself. I can’t bear to be misjudged by her. Oh, dear! Itis just one more hard thing to do that I don’t like to do.”
“Don’t write it tonight then,” advised Jerry. “You are still too close to your trouble. Wait a day or two before you write.”
“I suppose I’d better,” Marjorie listlessly agreed.
“Yes; you had.” Jerry adopted a purposely lugubrious tone.
“Stop making fun of my sorrow.” Marjorie could not resist a faint giggle at Jerry’s ridiculous imitation of herself.
“Aha! That’s more like it. Now I propose we shut up shop and go to Baretti’s for dinner. I’ve been hungrily thinking of fried chicken and hot waffles with maple syrup this P. M. They aren’t going to have ’em here for dinner, either. There’s to be beefsteaken casserole, which is all very nice, but my mind is on chicken and waffles.”
“I guess I’d rather have chicken, too. I’m beginning to be hungry in spite of my troubles.” Marjorie rose from her seat near the window. “You’re a true comforter, Jeremiah. Wait until I bathe my face and smooth my hair and I’ll go anywhere you say.”
“Fine!” returned Jerry cheerily. “It will be the first time you and I ever went out alone to dine. The girls have always been with us. Nowadays Ronny is so popular I hardly catch a glimpse of heron the campus. But the five little old Lookouts always congregate at ten-fifteen every night. That helps.”
Jerry referred to a custom begun only that year. The great popularity of the five girls, which had been steadily increasing since their freshman year, served to separate them during their leisure hours from each and one another. Muriel had proposed they gather every night at ten-fifteen for a brief chat before retiring.
Arrived at Baretti’s, Marjorie’s pensive mood still clung to her. Jerry made no direct effort to dispel it. She knew it would have to wear away of its own accord. Baretti’s delicious fried chicken and extra crisp waffles was a favorite order with the Hamilton students. Engaged presently in eating this palatable fare, Marjorie started in sudden surprise at an unfamiliar voice at her elbow. She glanced up from her plate to meet the eyes of the freshman she had seen that afternoon in Elizabeth Walbert’s car.
“Please don’t think me intrusive, Miss Dean,” the freshman was saying. “I noticed you when you came in and I was so anxious to learn whether the woman with you today on the pike was injured by Miss Walbert’s car. I begged her to turn around and go back, but she wouldn’t. She said she was sure that she hadn’t come within several feet of thewoman. It looked to me as though she were almost under the wheels. Of course, I only caught a glimpse of both of you, so I couldn’t really judge exactly what happened.”
The girl paused, looking signally embarrassed as she met the clear steady gaze of Marjorie’s eyes.
“The woman was not run over. In trying to get out of the car’s way she fell. As she is an old lady, she was considerably jarred by the fall. Her coat was badly splashed with mud.” Marjorie delivered the information with impersonal courtesy.
“I’m glad to hear she wasn’t run over,” sighed the other girl, looking genuine relief. “Was—was she a relative of yours?”
“No; a friend.”
“I hope you don’t hold me to blame in any way, Miss Dean. It is the first time I ever rode in Miss Walbert’s car, and it will be the last. I was waiting for a taxicab in town and she came along and offered to ride me back to the campus. I am Miss Everest, a freshie. I don’t know what you think of me. I am awfully concerned about your elderly friend. Anyway, I feel better for having seen you and cleared myself as best I can.”
Marjorie could not overlook the evident honesty of the apology. The half appealing expression in the freshman’s eyes did not escape her notice.
“I do not blame you, in the least, Miss Everest,”she said quickly. “You were not driving the car. I blame Miss Walbert severely. Since coming to Hamilton she has had a great deal of trouble over her driving, for which she is entirely to blame. I do not know what the outcome of this affair will be for her. My friend is very angry and may take it up with Doctor Matthews. I speak frankly. If Miss Walbert receives a summons she may name you as having been in her car when she so nearly ran down my friend.”
“Oh-h-h!” The ejaculation breathed consternation. “I shouldn’t like that. Still, I am not afraid. I can only tell the truth.”
“Doctor Matthews is a very fine and just man. If any such thing occurs he will not censure you for Miss Walbert’s fault.” Marjorie smiled up brightly into the half clouded face above her. In answer to an imperative touch of one of Jerry’s feet against hers, she said: “This is my room-mate and dear friend, Miss Macy.”
Both girls bowed. Jerry affably invited the freshman to join them at dessert. She was with another freshman at a table farther down the room and declined. She appeared highly gratified at such cordiality on the part of the two seniors and left them with glowing cheeks and happy eyes.
“Drop one acquaintance from Kill-’em-off Walbert’s list,” observed Jerry as the freshman departed.“That freshie is done with her for good and all. Too bad our amateur motorist didn’t enlist for overseas service in the late war. She would have done great execution driving a tank. She’d have sent the enemy fleeing in all directions.”
Marjorie could do no less than laugh at this far-fetched conceit. “I thought I had best warn Miss Everest of what she might expect,” she said, her face sobering. “What I said about Miss Walbert was deliberate. I mentioned Miss Susanna as my friend and I may never have a chance to speak to her again.” Marjorie added this with a kind of sad bitterness.
“Oh, yes, you will. Don’t be down-hearted, beautiful Bean,” hopefully assured Jerry. “Write your letter to your offended lady of the Arms and see what happens. She can’t misunderstand you after she reads it.”
“Maybe she won’t misunderstand me, but that doesn’t mean she will be friendly with me or even with you girls again. She detested girls until she met us. She’ll probably think she was foolish ever to bother with us. Even if she felt she had misjudged me, she is such an odd, proud little person she might not be able to bring herself to write me. If she doesn’t answer my letter, then I shall never write her again. I’ll understand that she did not care to continue the friendship.”
The author of the mischief, Elizabeth Walbert, was not concerning herself over what had occurred on Saturday afternoon on Hamilton Highway. She had not the remotest idea as to the identity of the elderly woman she had come so nearly injuring. She knew that Marjorie had been with the woman. Very scornfully she had derided Miss Everest’s worried conjectures as to who the woman might be, or, if she had been badly injured.
“An old scrub woman or some sort of servant, very likely,” she had airily said. “Don’t be a silly. Those two had no business to be walking along the middle of the pike. The pike is forautos, not pedestrians.” She had utterly flouted the suggestion that she go back and ascertain what had happened as the result of her reckless dash around a corner.
Afterward, when alone, she resolved not to bother again with Jane Everest. She was justanother of those stupid freshies who had no daring or spirit in them. Elizabeth was at that very moment sulking because she could not persuade certain freshmen at Wayland Hall who had until recently been her allies to waylay Augusta Forbes some evening on the campus and give her the “good scare” she had fondly planned. Gussie often spent an evening at Acasia House with a freshman who recited Greek in her section. The two girls were wont to prepare the lesson together. Thus Gussie never started for Wayland Hall much before ten o’clock. Elizabeth had learned this fact from an Acasia House freshie. Her idea had been this: Half a dozen girls, headed by herself, were to dress in sheets and glide out upon Augusta from a huge clump of bushes which she must pass in taking the most direct route from the one campus house to the other. Gussie was then to be surrounded, hustled to a neighboring tree and tied to it. The industrious specters were then to leave her to free herself as best she could. The deed was to be done on a moonless night when the weather was not severely cold.
“Suppose she can’t free herself?” one of the freshmen had put to Elizabeth on hearing her plan. “We wouldn’t dare leave her there all night. You say you know she comes from Acasia House oftenat about ten. We’d not have time to come back and untie her before the ten-thirty bell.”
“It wouldn’t hurt her to stay out there awhile if it weren’t cold,” was the cruel response. “I would slip down and out of the Hall about midnight, creep up behind her and cut the rope with a very sharp knife.”
“Until midnight!” had gasped one girl. “No, sir; not for me. Besides, you might cut her hand in the dark while trying to free her. You are crazy, Bess. Give up such daring schemes. They’ll only get you into trouble.”
“We might easily be seen, dressed in sheets,” another had objected. “Remember it is winter and there aren’t any leaves on those bushes.”
“That wouldn’t make any difference if the night were dark. I see plainly you girls aren’t nervy enough for a little fun that wouldn’t do the baby elephant any harm. In fact it would be the best thing that could happen to her. She has bragged a lot of not being afraid of anything. Never mind. I’ll think of some nice little plan, all by myself.”
This last icy assurance, delivered with a haughty crest of her empty head had not impressed her hearers. She had gone a step too far with them. From then on they began to drop away from her.
Disgusted with their lack of support, she undertook to interest certain juniors in her plan. Shedared not come out frankly with it. Her vague allusions as to what might be done met with utter defeat. Her classmates, such as had even voted for her for the freshman presidency, knew her better now. They tolerated her but disliked her.
Finding no one interested in her schemes for revenge, she was none the less determined to haze Gussie. On the Sunday afternoon following the disaster to Miss Susanna, she called Leslie Cairns on the telephone and asked her to go for a ride. Leslie accepted the invitation cannily, stipulating that they should use her roadster. She was to meet Leslie in front of Baretti’s.
Since the first day of their meeting in the Ivy, Elizabeth had not dared mention the subject of Leslie’s expulsion from college. Leslie had talked of it a little herself that day. Then she had put up the bars. What Elizabeth burned to consult her on was what she might do to haze Augusta.
Anxious to keep Leslie in a good humor, she racked her brain for campus gossip that would interest the ex-senior.
“Go ahead. Let’s hear the news from the knowledge shop,” ordered Leslie as the roadster sped south under her practical hands. “Then I have a bit of news for you. Maybe you won’t like it for a second or two. After you get used to it, you will.”
“What is it? You tell me first. My scraps ofnews can wait.” Eager curiosity animated the junior’s vapid features.
“No; I’m anxious to hear what’s happened over there.” Leslie made a backward movement of the head in the direction of the college.
“All right.” Elizabeth gave in, slightly sulky. Soon she forgot to sulk as she weirdly embellished truth for her companion’s gratification.
Leslie listened, calmly sorting out in her own mind the proportion of truth contained in the other’s narrations.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about yesterday,” Elizabeth declared, when her budget of gossip was exhausted. “I was out driving with a freshie who has an awful crush on me and I nearly ran over Bean and a scrub woman, or servant—anyway an old fossil she was with. They were marching along the middle of the pike near the Carden Estate. I came around the corner pretty fast. I was on my own side of the pike, though. I’m sure of that. I know——”
A sudden deep scowl corrugated Leslie’s forehead. “You are positive you didn’t hit either of them, are you?” she asked in an odd, sharp voice.
“Of course not. Everest, the freshie, said I knocked the old lady down. It scared the silly goose. She grew quite panicky over it. I knew I didn’t come within six feet of either of them. Shewanted me to go back. I was too wise to do that.”
“What did this woman look like?” again came the tight, tense tones. “I suppose, though, you couldn’t tell much about her.”
“No, I couldn’t. Evie said she was dressed in black and small.”
“You should have gone back.” Leslie’s loose lips tightened in displeasure. It was easy enough to give advice which she herself had not followed on a similar occasion. “For all you know that woman may have been faculty. Bean’s on very good terms with them.”
“Oh, pshaw! This woman looked old, from the glimpse I caught of her—too old to be faculty. She’d have nothing to report anyway. They had no business on the pike in the very path of machines, coming and going.”
“Bess, you don’t seem to have good sense.” Leslie had grown caustic. “YouknowMatthews threatened to ban cars when I ran down Langly. If you are reported for this, you’redonewith your buzz wagon at Hamilton. So are all the other students. Oh, this is too bad! And all because you are either too stubborn or else too stupid to learn to drive!”
“I don’t understand you, Leslie, and you will kindly stop calling me stupid,” sputtered Elizabeth, her face very red.
“You will understand in a minute. As ithappens, your punk driving may have seriously interfered with a business venture of mine. Since I left college I have been looking about for a chance to go into business for myself. One of my ventures is to be a garage near Hamilton College.” Leslie spoke rapidly and with displeased force. “Now I chose to even my score with Bean at the same time. That’s why I wanted you to find out about those properties. I heard last year before I was fired from college about a wonderful dormitory the little prigs were going to try to build near the campus, for the benefit of plebeian beggars who want to go through college on nothing a year.
“I remembered it after I left Hamilton. That’s why I came back and took up a residence here. I made up my mind I’d find out the site they were after and take it away from them. The woman I am with is my chaperon, not my aunt. I tried to get Alida and Lola interested in the affair, but couldn’t. I knew you could help me, so I decided to forget the past and be friends with you again.”
“Why didn’t you explain all this to me in the beginning, instead of deceiving me so?” burst forth Elizabeth rancorously.
“It had to be kept a dead secret. You would have told it to someone, sure as fate. I’m telling you now. That’s soon enough,” returned Leslie coolly. “Now listen to the rest. I have bought those boarding-houseproperties west of the campus—the block that contains the seven houses. I paid sixty thousand dollars for them and I am going to have ’em torn down and a mammoth garage put up there. You see what will happen to my investment if cars are banned at Hamilton.”
“Oh, bother your old investment!” Elizabeth had grown angrier as she listened to Leslie. “It will never amount to a string of glass beads. Am I to blame because people won’t keep out of the path of my car?”
“The path of your car!” Leslie repeated with a sarcastic snicker. She was equally incensed at her companion’s disparagement of her business venture. “Where is that wonderful path? All over the road, I’ll say. The state ought to issue you a non-license instead of a license.”
Thus began a quarrel which raged hotly for several minutes. Elizabeth was furious at having been deceived by Leslie. The latter was utterly out of temper over the seeds of catastrophe to her plans which the junior had sown. They were a long way from Hamilton when the altercation began. In the midst of it Leslie turned the roadster about and started back over the route they had come. By the time the campus wall appeared in sight a black silence had fallen between them. Nor was it brokenuntil Leslie brought her car to an even stop at the eastern entrance.
“You may as well get out here,” she sullenly dictated.
“Sorry I didn’t have my own car. I needn’t have troubled you then,” vituperated Elizabeth, as she hastily bundled herself out of the roadster.
“A good thing for public safety you didn’t have it,” Leslie sneered. “If my investment turns out unprofitable, it will beyourfault.”
With that she drove on, her brief connection with Elizabeth Walbert at an end. At the height of her anger, a cool ruthlessness behind it informed her that the time had come to drop the junior irrevocably. She no longer needed her services. If cars should be banned at Hamilton College, as a result of Elizabeth’s reckless blundering, she would know it soon enough. Shrewd use of her eyes would quickly furnish her with the information. She laughed to herself as she recalled the junior’s rage.
The serious side of the situation returning, all signs of mirth faded from her rugged face. The investment she had made had been planned with a view toward placating her father. Once she had the garage ready for business she intended writing him of what she had done. There was no large garage near the college. Students owning cars were obliged to place them wherever they could find avacant space in the several garages between the college and the town of Hamilton. A few students even had been obliged that year, owing to lack of accommodations, to leave their automobiles in town.
Leslie’s idea of building a large garage near the campus would not have appealed to a present-day business man. The expense for site, the outlay in tearing down, in order to rebuild, not to mention the cost of erecting the garage—these items would have made the day of large profits too far distant. Leslie, however, was not considering either expense or profits. Her double aim was to even her score with Marjorie Dean, at the same time impressing her unforgiving father with her great business ability.
Now disaster threatened, precipitated by the very pawn she had used to further her own ends. She could only hope that Elizabeth’s blundering had not caused mishap. She was sure Marjorie would not report the matter. What her companion might do remained to be seen. It would depend entirely upon the identity of the elderly woman in black.
While Elizabeth Walbert and Leslie Cairns were engaged in altercation, Marjorie was trying to frame a letter to the offended mistress of Hamilton Arms. She was alone in her room, Jerry having wisely decided to leave her in absolute quiet while she composed the difficult message. She wrote andrewrote, tore into bits what she had written and began again. What she set down seemed a poor expression of her mind in the matter.
The shadows of late afternoon had begun to lengthen when she finally sealed the product of her painful industry and addressed the envelope to her offended friend. Though her heart was heavy, her mind was more at ease. Miss Susanna might ignore her written explanation so far as acknowledging it went. Nevertheless, Marjorie felt that she could not ignore the truth it contained.