Marjorie Dean, Post-Graduate

Katherine and Marjorie, far from resenting the sudden order to “get out and walk” were already strolling slowly up the drive. Leila turned her back on Vera with a great show of scorn and overtook the strolling two. They found Miss Remson on the veranda, seated in a large willow rocker which made her appear unusually small.

“Back at last,” she greeted in her lively tones. “What cheer? Was it dinner at Baretti’s or tea at Miss Hamilton’s?”

“Miss Susanna had a late tea on purpose for us,” Marjorie replied. “Life has been one glorious succession of eats today since I got off the train at Hamilton station.” This with an accompanying sigh of utter well-being.

“Don’t forget the spread,” the little manager reminded. “It’s ready.”

“So are we,” declared Katherine brightly, “or we shall be when Vera and Robin come from the garage.”

“No true Hamiltonite could resist a ten o’clock spread even if she had been lunched, toasted and tea’d,” Marjorie cheerily asserted.

“No one could resist Ellen’s cream cake, either. I know that,” supplemented Kathie.

Vera and Robin presently returned and the quintette accompanied Miss Remson into the dining room where the “ten o’clock spread” awaited them. There was not only Ellen’s delicious cream cake but dainty sandwiches and fruit salad as well. Though none of them were actually hungry, a spread was a spread on any occasion and therefore not to be passed by.

As they sat about one of the smaller tables, enjoying the little good-night feast, Miss Remson said with a kind of hesitating abruptness: “Girls, I have broken my rule of rules for the first time since I undertook the management of Wayland Hall. I have accepted a freshman far in advance of the regular opening of the Hall.”

Interest flashed strongly into five pairs of eyes fixed on Miss Remson. The grim set of the little woman’s jaw indicated her evident displeasure with herself at the departure from her few iron-clad rules. With the half chagrined admission came to each girl simultaneously a remembrance of the stranger they had seen in the late afternoon when leaving the Hall for Hamilton Arms.

“Do you mean the girl who came here this afternoon in a taxi as we were starting for the Arms?” Vera lifted the silence that had ensued after the manager’s remarks.

“She is the one I mean.” Miss Remson nodded slowly and without enthusiasm.

“The fairy-tale princess!” Marjorie exclaimed involuntarily, then laughed.

“She had that look, I grant you,” Leila agreed. “Only it’s from Paris she comes, and not out of a fairy tale.”

“Correct, Leila. She arrived at New York City yesterday on a French steamer, and came straight from New York to Hamilton. Early last spring her father wrote me, applying for admission for her at the Hall to begin with the week before the opening of college and during her college year, provided she should pass her entrance examinations. Instead of abiding by the agreement which I made with him her father has sent her to the Hall several weeks too soon. There is nothing to be done in the matter save to allow her to remain. She tells me that her father sailed for Africa several days before she sailed for the United States. He joined an exploring expedition up the Amazon River.” Miss Remson’s face registered her disapproval in the matter.

“Don’t worry, Miss Remson,” Marjorie comforted. “We will take this would-be freshie under our august P. G. wings and bring her up a credit to Hamilton.”

“The five Travelers to the rescue!” promised Robin with a wave of the hand.

Leila, Vera and Katherine were equally ready to extend a welcoming hand to the stranger from across the sea. Miss Remson surveyed her guests, a bright smile gradually driving away her annoyed expression.

“You girls are more hospitable than I. I ought to be ashamed of myself. I must try to live up to you.” She paused, then proposed: “Suppose you go to her room and invite her to the spread? She has number 8.”

“You’re a jewel, Miss Remson.” Vera patted one of the manager’s hands.

“Nothing like social eats to promote acquaintance,” nodded Robin.

“Come on.” Leila was already half way to the door. “Let us visit our would-be in a body and speak to her as with one voice. What shall we say, so that we may all say the same, and not gabble at her like geese?”

“I don’t fancy the concert invitation plan,” Vera objected. “You do the inviting, Marjorie. You’ve a wonderful way with you.”

“So have I,” Leila hastily assured Vera. “Never forget that, Midget. I will praise myself rather than not be praised.”

Laughing and joking the five post graduates hurried lightly up the stairs and down the second floor hall to room number 8. Nor when Vera knocked lightly on the door had it been decided as to which one of them should be spokesman.

The girl who answered the knock seemed lovelier to her callers than when they had seen her alighting from the taxicab that afternoon. She wore a pale primrose negligee which fell in straight soft folds to her feet. Its flowing sleeves dropped away from her white, rounded arms and the collarless cut of the negligee brought out the beauty of her shapely throat. Her peculiarly colored eyes roved from one face to another. They held a certain veiled inquiry not far from insolence. She was silent; evidently waiting for her callers to speak first.

“Good evening.” While Marjorie had not consented to begin the making of friendly overtures with the prospective student she felt impelled to break the silence. “We are having a spread downstairs in the dining room. Miss Remson is giving it. Won’t you join us?” she invited with pleasant directness.

“Oh, no, thank you. You could hardly expect me to come down en deshabille.” Contempt for invitation and callers lurked faintly in the answer; a contempt which the girls felt rather than heard.

“That need make no difference,” Marjorie composedly returned. “There are no persons other than ourselves and the servants in the house. You know how purely informal a spread must be in order to be a success.”

“I don’t enjoy spreads,” came the indifferent reply. “Besides sweets late in the evening are so hard on one’s complexion.” One of the blonde girl’s white, beautifully kept hands found the door and rested against the knob. Whether by accident or design was hard to say.

“I am sorry you do not care to come,” Marjorie said with the gentle courtesy which never seemed to fail her in the face of rebuff. “Pardon me for being so remiss. Let me introduce my friends and myself to you. Miss Remson has told us that you are Miss Monroe.”

The indifferent expression on the girl’s face appeared to increase rather than diminish. She merely stared at the group and said not a word. Marjorie felt uncomfortable embarrassment seize her. Nevertheless friendliness continued in her tone as she named her chums to the other girl. Miss Monroe had the grace to acknowledge the introduction. She nodded carelessly to each girl in turn, the air of furtive contempt which had visited her at sight of the callers returning.

“We should be glad to show you about Hamilton and the campus,” Vera rallied to Marjorie’s assistance. “We are visiting Miss Remson for a short time. We shall return to college in the fall and shall live at Wayland Hall. So we shall be your neighbors. Miss Harper’s and my room is 10. We are using our old room now, and it will be ours again when we come back in the fall.”

“I expect to try for the sophomore class.” Miss Monroe crested her golden head. “I hope to escape the odious freshman class. I detest the bare idea of being kept down. Thank you for your offer to show me about.” She favored Vera with an inconsequential smile.

“You are welcome.” Vera tried to keep reserve out of the response. She did not enjoy being snubbed, either.

“You are sure to like Wayland Hall. It is the oldest and has been reckoned as the favorite house on the campus.” Leila now broke into the conversation. “All of us except Miss Page have lived here since we entered Hamilton. We are P. G.’s.” Leila gave the information in a perfectly level tone. There was an inscrutable light in her bright blue eyes which Miss Monroe did not miss. She colored slightly and hastily looked away from Leila.

Her remarkable blue-green eyes wandered to Marjorie again and rested curiously upon her. In that instant’s survey she saw what she had not yet allowed herself to note. She saw a girl whose claim to great beauty was as strong as her own. The discovery did not contribute to her happiness, but she was too clever to allow even a shade of rising jealousy to cross her beautiful face.

“I suppose ‘P. G.’ stands for post graduate?” she returned with a questioning inflection. “I really know very little of American colleges. I am sure I shall find college such a bore. My father insists that I shall become a student of Hamilton. So tiresome in him!”

The five Travelers still stood in a half circle outside the door. Miss Monroe had no intention of inviting them in, it appeared.

“We’ve had the very happiest kind of times in college,” Robin was quick to defend her Alma Mater. “One gets out of college precisely what one puts into it. You’ll feel differently about it after college opens and everything is in full swing.”

“If we can help you at any time to feel at home here, or can do anything for you to add to your welfare, please let us know. We were strangers here, too, once upon a time.” Marjorie smiled sunnily at discourteous Miss Monroe. There was finality in her little speech. “Miss Remson will expect us back,” she said to her companions.

“You are very kind. I daresay I shall get on here.” Miss Monroe moved her shoulders indifferently. “I prefer France or England to America. Of course it’s bound to seem very ghastly here for a while.” Sullen discontent lived for an instant on her pretty features. Marjorie’s friendly offer seemed to annoy rather than please her.

“Not half so ghastly as though you were condemned to an English private school for girls.” Leila assured with a flash of white teeth which appeared the extreme of affability. Her companions read into it another meaning. They knew if the haughty newcomer did not that Leila was blandly watching the self-centered girl measure off the rope with which to hang herself.

“I don’t in the least understand your meaning.” There crept into Miss Monroe’s voice a decidedly petulant note.

“I know that very well, indeed,” Leila replied with smiling imperturbability. “I was born in Ireland and half educated in Europe; partly in England, partly in Paris. The other half, the more important half of my education I received at Hamilton College. The best I can wish for you is that you may find at Hamilton what I found. I shall be glad to make Hamilton seem less ghastly to you, if I can. Good night.”

Leila turned away from the door. Characteristic of her was the virtue of finality. She could not dwaddle over a situation.

Her retreat was a signal to the other four girls. They made conscientious effort to say good-night as pleasantly as they had saluted Miss Monroe. She, on the contrary, began to show a first faint sign of interest in her callers. Leila’s information caused the Irish girl to rise in her opinion. She decided that she might be entertained by a little further talk with her.

“Will you – er – won’t you – ?” She spoke directly to Leila’s back as the latter continued to move slowly down the corridor. Leila did not turn her head. Marjorie, walking behind her heard and turned her face toward the girl in the doorway. Again Miss Monroe subjected her to a protracted, nearly hostile stare. Then she went into her room and closed the door with a force that was anything but indifferent.

CHAPTER XIV. – A TRIAL OF PATIENCE

During the few steps down the stairs and back to the dining room no one spoke. At the door Vera relieved her pent-up feelings by softly exclaiming: “Stung!” bringing one small hand down smartly upon the other. The unaccustomed slang from dainty Midget cleared the snubbed P. G.’s cloudy atmosphere with a soft chorus of giggles.