Marjorie Dean, College Senior

“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.

CHAPTER XXI – MISUNDERSTOOD

“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! That is tough 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 than she 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! It is 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 beefsteak en 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 her on 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 the woman. 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.”

CHAPTER XXII – A DISMAYED PLOTTER

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.