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