Kitabı oku: «Marjorie Dean, College Senior», sayfa 4

CHAPTER VIII – FAITHLESS FRIENDS

“Leslie Cairns! The very last person I expected to see in this part of the country!”

With this exclamation of amazement, Lola Elster brought the small electric machine she was driving to a quick stop. The surprised cry was the result of being hailed by a young woman driving a roadster. The latter had spied the electric motor containing Alida Burton and Lola Elster and promptly raised her voice to a shout of greeting. The meeting occurring on one of the staid residence avenues of Hamilton, she had had no difficulty in attracting the attention of the two seniors.

“Why, Leslie, this is a surprise!” echoed Alida. “I haven’t seen you since the day – ” Alida stopped, her color rising. “I mean since – ” again she stammered.

“Oh, say it and be done with it.” Leslie exhibited her old impatience. She was already shaking hands with Lola, who had climbed out of the electric and now stood beside the roadster. “Since I got it in the neck for hazing. That’s what the trouble was all about. If Matthews hadn’t been both feet down on hazing the whole thing would have blown over.”

“We couldn’t imagine what had become of you,” Lola said hastily. She was anxious to keep off the subject of the Sans’ downfall. She had exhibited so little sympathy for Leslie during her last week on the campus that she feared Leslie might, given the opportunity, upbraid her for her lack of loyalty. “Why didn’t you write me, Leslie? I never heard a word from you all summer.”

“Oh, I was busy. I don’t like to write letters.” The reply was coolly evasive.

“Are you staying in town?” Alida was now out of the car and ranged next to Lola beside the roadster.

“West Hamilton. I have an aunt there, you know.”

“Is that so?” Lola opened her eyes. “I never knew that.”

Conversation languished for an instant. Lola and Alida were both curious concerning Leslie, but tried not to show it.

“There’s a rather nice little confectioner’s store about two blocks further down the street. Suppose we go there,” proposed Leslie. “We are blocking the road, as it is. Some of these Hamilton fossils would kick if we happened to take up an inch more of room than their ideas call for.”

“I know the place you mean. Delighted!” Lola turned toward her car, Alida following. Again at the wheel, she called out, “Park your car on the lower side of the street opposite the shop. The parking’s better there. Go ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”

“Sure thing,” Leslie returned laconically. “I know all about that place.”

“Leslie has nerve,” was Lola’s first remark out of the former’s hearing. “If I had been expelled from college you wouldn’t catch me within a hundred miles of the fatal spot afterward. First I ever heard she had an aunt in West Hamilton.”

“Don’t you believe it?” queried Alida.

“I doubt it. Les is here for some special reason of her own which she will keep to herself unless she happens to feel confidential. I understand her. She used to tell me a lot about her affairs when I was a freshie. After you and I grew pally, she grew shut-mouth,” Lola slangily continued. “I was glad not to be her pal. She took too many risks and she was always dragging her pals into trouble. She thought money would help her out all the time. You see for yourself, it didn’t. I made up my mind to keep away from Les long before the end of my freshman year.”

“She thought a lot of you, though, Lola. She really did,” Alida said earnestly.

“Oh, I know.” Lola made a little bored movement of the head. “After she mixed things up for me and made me appear an idiot at basketball, I had had enough of being chummy with her. Be careful what you say to her today. Les has some kind of game to play, take it from me. Don’t be too friendly with her. It won’t add to our reputation as seniors to be chummy with her. We’ll have to keep her at a distance. Recall she left Hamilton, disgraced.”

The confectioner’s shop reached, Lola had time for no more advice. Natalie Weyman had once characterized Lola Elster to Leslie as “a selfish kid.” In all ways she bore out this opinion. She was constantly alive to her own interests, always placed them first, and callously trampled down anyone who stood in the way of them.

The trio presently established at one of the small round tables and their order given for soda fountain concoctions composed of ice cream, nuts and fruit syrup, Leslie said with an elaborate attempt at indifference, “Well, what is the news from the knowledge shop? Have you seen Walbert yet?”

“She’s at Wayland Hall,” promptly replied Alida. “So are we. Lola and I room together now.” Satisfaction permeated the information.

“What?” Leslie made the monosyllable faintly satiric. “You don’t say so. And Walbert is at the Hall! She tried long and hard enough to get there. So did you, Lola. Where Walbert should be is off the campus. She deserved the run far more than we.”

“We are awfully provoked about it,” went on Alida. “We do not intend to bother with her at all. Do we, Lola?”

Lola shrugged contemptuously. “I sha’n’t lose any sleep over her. I never liked her.”

“You never lost any sleep over admiration for anyone, Lola.” Leslie put a touch of malice in the assertion.

“I know it,” Lola replied boldly, though she reddened. She understood the remark to be a reproach.

“How is Bean, dear creature?” Leslie simulated effusion. “And how are the beanstalks? Grown clear up to the chapel steeple by this time, I don’t doubt.”

“They are back. That’s about all I can say. We aren’t on speaking terms with them, you know. By the way, Les, did Bean stand up before the Board and refuse to answer their questions? I mean last spring when the Sans got in bad. I heard she did.”

“Who told you?” countered Leslie, her face darkening.

“Nell Ray, I think. It was one of the Sans,” Lola informed.

“I always knew Nell Ray was a talker.” Leslie scowled her disapproval. “Yes, you may as well know, Bean did precisely that. It was merely a bluff. I think she had told the whole thing to Matthews before we were summoned. Very likely he sent for her when he received Dulcie’s letter. She spilled the story of the hazing and he agreed to let her get away with refusing to talk before the Board. That little prig made more trouble for me than anyone else at Hamilton.”

“I don’t think so, Leslie,” differed Lola. “It was Dulcie Vale and Bess who dished you. You always had it in for Bean and she never made a move against you.”

“You don’t know what I know, or you wouldn’t say that. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll have a chance yet to even my score with that mischief maker. I’m glad I ran across you two. You can keep me posted as to what goes on at the prissy school; provided anything of account happens there.”

“Yes, certainly.” Lola’s assurance lacked warmth. “How long do you expect to be here, Leslie? Are you going to open your New York house this winter? Now that you are done with college, I suppose your father will want you to be near him. If you’re going to be in New York, Alicia and I will arrange to spend Thanksgiving with you. Our house is closed and the folks gone to California for the winter.”

“I don’t know where I’ll be at Thanksgiving.” Leslie spoke with cold abruptness. She had quickly sensed Lola’s lack of interest in herself, immediately topped by self-seeking. That was Lola to a T. “My father and I are on the outs, if you care to know it. He was furious with me about that hazing business. He didn’t care a bit about what we did to Remson. He said that was merely looking out for our own interests. He couldn’t see the hazing for a minute. I’m living on my own money. I don’t know whether he and I will ever make up or not.” A curious expression of gloom crossed her heavy features. The estrangement from her father was her real punishment.

“I shall stay on here for awhile,” she went on. “I might as well. Later I’ll go to Chicago, perhaps. I have a couple of girl friends who are crazy to have me make them a long visit.”

“I am sorry about your trouble with your father.” Lola did not show sympathy. Instead she appeared half sulky. Leslie’s refusal to take up her Thanksgiving hint had displeased her. She had calculated that she and Alida would enjoy being entertained over Thanksgiving at the Cairns’ palatial New York home.

“Oh, he’ll get over it. I am his only child. He’ll have to come across with a forgiveness diploma sooner or later. It’s the only kind of diploma I want.”

For half an hour longer the three sat around the table, their talk animated but fragmentary, so far as sticking to one subject was concerned. During that time Lola kept her ears trained for some catch word that might explain Leslie’s presence in Hamilton. Leslie, however, was on her guard. When at length they rose to leave the shop, she had arrived at one definite conclusion. She could not count on the friendship of either girl. Alida would be ruled by Lola, and Lola would cut her dead tomorrow if self-interest warranted it.

Leslie Cairns had deceived them in saying she was visiting an aunt in Hamilton. She had merely taken a furnished house in the town and was living there with a chaperon whom she called “Aunt Edith.” Leslie was wise enough to know that, after her separation from her father, she could not defy convention with success. As a young woman alone, she needed the protection of a chaperon. She therefore engaged the services of a middle-aged woman of education and social standing who had met with reverses of fortune. Mrs. Gaylord, her duenna, never interfered with her plans. She placidly fell in with them.

As it happened, Leslie’s father had not entirely abandoned his unscrupulous daughter. He had determined to teach her a lesson. Shocked at her lawless conduct and bitterly incensed and disappointed at her expulsion from Hamilton College, he had treated her with great harshness. He had bitterly reminded her of his threat to disown her. “You have your own money,” he had said. “Use it to support yourself. I wish nothing more to do with you. I am going to Chicago for a week. When I come back, I shall expect to find you gone.”

Characteristic of Leslie, she had accepted the verdict without emotion. She had packed her effects, engaged a chaperon from a private agency, and left New York for Bar Harbor for the summer. Mr. Cairns had had her every movement secretly watched, however. Mrs. Alice Gaylord would not have chaperoned Leslie long had his private seal of approval been lacking. Assured that she was in safe company, he left her to her own devices until such time as he should find it in his heart to reclaim her.

The summer over, Leslie had found time hanging heavily on her hands. She had had altogether too much time to think, and thinking grew into brooding over her deserved misfortunes. Strangely enough, she blamed Marjorie Dean more than all the others for what had happened. She chose to do so because she had never forgiven Marjorie for turning on her on the occasion when Leslie had led the verbal affront against Marjorie on the campus during the latter’s freshman year. With that for a basis, she had laid the failure of every dishonorable scheme she had concocted at Hamilton at Marjorie’s door. It was the old story of the injurer accusing the innocent injured party of treachery.

Shortly before her expulsion from Hamilton College, Leslie heard a rumor to which she paid no special attention on hearing. In the stress of the dismissal agony she forgot about it. Later it returned to her. It was the recollection of it which decided her to take up her residence in the town of Hamilton. She also had a certain amount of curiosity regarding what went on at Hamilton. Lola and Alida were still there. She had thought she might cultivate their society.

Leslie was shrewd enough to discern, that, while Lola Elster would gladly accept entertainment from her in New York, she was not desirous of the old campus intimacy with her.

Back in her roadster, having bade the two seniors a nonchalant farewell with, “I’ll lunch you at my aunt’s house some day soon,” she drove down the shady street half hurt, half amused.

“Lola’s the same greedy, grabbing kid,” she reflected. “That settles both of them for me. I couldn’t depend upon them to find out a thing for me. Bess Walbert is anything but trustworthy. Still I may have to make up with her yet.”

CHAPTER IX – CLEARING AWAY SNAGS

Marjorie had fully intended to fathom the mystery of the two freshmen’s apparent grudge against Jerry and herself without delay. Pressure of college affairs, social and scholastic, prevented the solving of the annoying problem. The return of the Silvertonites kept the Ten Travelers constantly traveling back and forth between Wayland and Silverton Halls. With the return of Phyllis Moore, the Moore Symphony Orchestra made itself heard about the campus on moonlight evenings. Almost every night for a week serenading went on.

During the days the two sets of girls took turns doing station duty. The freshman class was larger than ever before. One hundred and forty-three freshmen were registered. Every available room in the campus houses had been taken and a few boarding houses off the campus were well filled.

“It seems too bad we don’t know our own freshies as well as we know some of the others,” deplored Marjorie one evening about two weeks after the opening of college. “I have hardly seen those two girls, Miss Wilmot and Miss Robbins, since the morning Ronny and I talked to them on the campus. One can’t count seeing them at meals, because, then, they’re too far away to talk with. I went down to call on them twice. Once, they weren’t there, and the other time they had a ‘Busy’ sign up.”

“I haven’t been near them. I suppose I should have made a call, but I was anxious for you to break the ice. I am a timid little thing, you know,” Jerry ended with a chuckle.

“Well, I shall make a third attempt this evening,” decided Marjorie. “Phil says the sophs are talking about giving the frolic earlier this year. There are so many freshies the sophs think they ought to hurry and make them feel at home. That means some of the juniors and seniors to the rescue. The sophs are in the minority again.”

“Shall you play escort?” asked Jerry. “If you do, then I’m in for it, too. ‘Whither thou goest.’ You get me?”

“Yes, I get you. I’ll do escort duty if I’m asked.”

“You’ll be asked, all right enough,” Jerry predicted. “Do you need me to help you make calls this evening?”

“I wish you would go. You haven’t met Miss Wilmot or Miss Robbins yet. We will go and see them soon after dinner. I have a hard Philology lesson ahead of me this evening and must study. So we mustn’t stay long.”

“I notice Miss Walbert is very chummy with that last lot of freshies who came here,” observed Jerry. “Funny, the freshies here are divided into two crowds. There’s that first crowd of twelve. The other six, the ones who seem to admire Miss Walbert, are another close corporation. Neither crowd appears to exchange much friendliness. It’s a case of once we used to be snobbish at Wayland Hall, but now we’re clannish. Our own gang is just about as clannish as the others. That ain’t no way to be sociable, is it?”

“No, it ain’t,” laughed Marjorie, repeating Jerry’s intentional lapse from correct English. “We’ll have to see what we can do toward amendment.”

Shortly after dinner that evening, Marjorie and Jerry paused before Room Number 20. Marjorie rapped lightly. Sound of voices from within proclaimed the fact that the two freshmen were at home.

“Why, good evening,” Charlotte Robbins greeted the pair with apparent surprise. “Won’t you come in? We – we thought you had forgotten us,” she added, flushing a little.

“I have been here twice before.” Marjorie went on to explain the non-success of her former calls. “I preferred not to bother you when you were with your friends. I have brought my room-mate, Miss Macy, with me.” She introduced Jerry and the two girls accepted the chairs politely offered them. Marjorie sensed a subtle change from the former friendly attitude the freshmen had exhibited on the campus that morning.

Jerry was distinctly ill at ease, though she strove to be placidly agreeable. She was mentally ticketing their call as a “freeze-out.” She had already vowed within herself that this should be her last effort to cultivate this particular crowd of freshmen.

Marjorie, meanwhile, was trying to make pleasant headway against an intangible barrier. It had not been there on that first sunny morning of acquaintance.

In the midst of a lukewarm conversation concerning college matters, the door was suddenly flung open. A tall girl in a baby-blue silk kimono breezed in. She was well over the threshold before she took in the situation. With an “Oh, excuse me! Didn’t know you had company,” she bolted. The sarcastic emphasis on the word “company” brought a flush to the faces of the guests.

“Please don’t mind Gussie,” apologized Calista, looking vexed. “She has a habit of bolting in and out like a young hurricane. We are used to her. She is a fine girl, but sometimes she – ” Calista broke off in confusion.

There was an embarrassing moment of silence, shattered by Marjorie’s clear purposeful tones.

“Since you have mentioned your friend, I should like to ask you if you know her grievance against us. We, Miss Macy and I, have thought she must have one. The way she spoke just now confirms it. We know of no reason for it. It is too bad. We have the very kindliest feeling toward the Bertram freshies.”

“There; what did I tell you?” Instead of answering Marjorie, Calista turned in triumph to Charlotte.

Charlotte nodded. “I think we had best tell Miss Dean the whole thing,” she declared. “You go ahead, Cally. I’ll put in the Selahs at the appropriate moments.”

“I will, and glad to get it off my chest.” Calista breathed a long sigh. “First, please tell me, did you say anything against us, Augusta Forbes in particular, on the evening at Baretti’s. Augusta’s the girl who was just here.”

“We spoke of you and the noise you were making, but only in amusement,” Marjorie returned with candor.

“Gus declares you were making fun of her as you walked toward the door. She says Miss Macy said something about her that made you all laugh.” Calista regarded Marjorie searchingly as though to plumb her honesty.

“We did laugh at Jeremiah.” Marjorie unconsciously used the name Jerry most often received from her chums. “She made a funny remark about you girls staring at her. She hates being stared at about as much as anyone I ever knew. It wasn’t what she said so much as the way she said it that made us laugh. We weren’t making fun of you.”

“I wish you could make Gus believe that,” Charlotte said. “She has taken the matter to heart and is down on you. We were so pleased to know you that morning under the trees. Then you promised to come and see us and when you didn’t we thought you didn’t care to bother with us. Besides,” she hesitated, then went on straightforwardly, “someone told us that you made a fuss over a freshie one day and cut her the next. It’s horrid to have to say these things, but I would like to have you know about them.”

“Frankly, we haven’t wished to believe them,” interposed Calista. “We hope to be friends with you, Miss Dean, and with Miss Lynne and Miss Macy. We have heard quite a little of your popularity on the campus. It isn’t because of that we wish to know you. It’s because we like you. There!”

“Much obliged.” Marjorie put out her hand. “We felt the same about you two girls. I am so sorry Miss Forbes is down on us. Please tell her for me that we wish to be her friends.”

“I don’t know how anyone can say Marjorie is anything but friendly and sincere,” Jerry broke forth in protest. “I have a strong inkling as to where that remark came from.”

Marjorie looked quickly toward Jerry. Occupied with the nature of Miss Forbes’ grievance she had not grasped the other charge against herself to the full.

“I wasn’t asked to keep the person’s name a secret,” Charlotte assured. “It was Miss Walbert who said it. She has been in our room several times. I don’t like her at all. I wish she would not come here.”

“Will you please tell me again what Miss Walbert said of me?” Marjorie quietly requested.

Charlotte repeated that portion of her former statement concerning the charge against Marjorie.

“I never cut anyone unless that person cuts me first. I would not speak to one who did not wish to speak to me,” Marjorie defended, the soft curves of her lips straightening.

“She has harked back to her first day at the station when she came here a freshie,” asserted Jerry, “only she has purposely twisted the truth.” Briefly she cited the true circumstances.

“I think it is outrageous in a girl to so abuse the truth,” declared Charlotte in shocked tones. “That settles Miss Walbert for me.”

“And for me,” seconded Calista. “I am glad we had it out with you.” She smiled winningly at Marjorie. “We will try and win Gus over. Now let us shake hands all around and swear fealty.”

This done amid good-natured laughter, the last chill upon friendliness disappeared, never to return, and the quartette went on to pleasanter things.

“I knew that Miss Walbert would try to start something,” were Jerry’s first words to Marjorie on returning to their room. “I certainly put my foot in it by making foolish remarks. I have thought over what I said about those girls taking us for museum exhibits, etc. It doesn’t sound well when repeated. I was afraid you’d feel that you ought to repeat it, but you did nobly, Marj, nobly. Those two girls are sensible. They didn’t split hairs over it. All I hope is that Haughty Gus won’t remember what I say. If she insists on knowing what I said before she forgives me, I’ll stay unforgiven.”