Jane Allen: Right Guard Part 2

"It was most sad." Adrienne rolled her big black eyes. "She has yet one more week with the stock company. _La pet.i.te_ has done well. She has received many excellent notices. Next summer she will no doubt be the leading woman. She has the heaven-sent talent, even as _ma mere_."

"Alicia Reynolds is back," announced Judith. "I met her coming in with her luggage about an hour ago. She was awfully cordial to me. That means she's still of the same mind as when she left Wellington last June.

She's really a very nice girl. I only hope she stays away from Marian Seaton."

"Neither Marian nor Maizie Gilbert have come back yet. I wish they'd stay away," came vengefully from Ethel. "With Alicia and Edith Hammond both on their good behavior Madison Hall would get along swimmingly without those two disturbers."

"They'll probably keep to themselves this year," commented Judith grimly. "It's pretty well known here how badly they treated Jane last year and how splendidly she carried herself through it all."

"Oh, the old girls at the Hall won't bother with them, but some of the new girls may," Ethel remarked. "We're to have several new ones."

"There'll be one less new girl if I have anything to say about it,"

vowed Judith. "If there's been any unfairness done, little Judy will take a prompt hike over to see Miss Rutledge."

"Jane wouldn't like that," demurred Ethel.

"Can't help it. I'd just have to do it," Judith made obstinate reply.

"As Jane's roommate I think I've a case of my own. If Jane has chosen to room somewhere else--then, all right. But if she hasn't--if she's been treated shabbily,--as I believe she has been--then I'll go wherever she goes, even if I have to live in a house away off the campus."

CHAPTER III

BAD NEWS

"Oh, girls, it's good to be back!"

Surrounded by a welcoming trio of white-gowned girls, Jane Allen clung affectionately to them.

All along the station platform, bevies of merry-faced, daintily dressed young women were engaged in the joyful occupation of greeting cla.s.smates who had arrived on the four o'clock train. Here and there, committees of upper cla.s.s girls were extending friendly hands to timid freshmen just set down in the outskirts of the land of college.

Stepping down from the train Jane had been instantly seized by her energetic chums and smothered in a triangular embrace. A mist had risen to her gray eyes at the warmth of the welcome. She was, indeed, no longer the lonely outlander. It was all so different from last year and so delightful.

"It's good to have you back, perfectly dear old Jane!" emphasized Judith, giving Jane an extra hug to measure her joy at sight of the girl she adored.

"What happiness!" gurgled Adrienne. "We had the g-r-r-r-eat anxiety for fear that you would perhaps not come on this train."

"Oh, I telegraphed Judy from St. Louis on a venture," laughed Jane. "I knew she'd be here ahead of me."

"Then you did receive my letter," Judith said with satisfaction. "I was afraid you mightn't."

"I didn't answer it because I was coming East so soon," apologized Jane.

"I took your advice, though, about the eats. There was a stop over at St. Louis, so I went out and bought a suitcase full of boxed stuff.

Maybe it isn't heavy! We'll have a great spread in our room to-night.

Who's back, Judy? Have you seen Christine Ellis or Barbara Temple yet?

Is Mary Ashton here? I know Dorothy isn't or she'd be here with you."

As Jane rattled off these lively remarks, her three friends exchanged significant eye messages.

"Then--why--you----" stammered Judith, a swift flush rising to her cheeks.

"What's the matter, Judy?"

Jane regarded her roommate in puzzled fas.h.i.+on. She wondered at Judith's evident confusion.

"Nothing much. I mean something rather queer." Judith contradicted herself. "Let's take a taxi, girls, and stop at Rutherford Inn for tea.

We can talk there."

"But why not go straight to Madison Hall?" queried Jane, in growing perplexity. "I'm anxious to get rid of some of the smoke and dust I've collected on my face and hands. We can have tea and talk in our own room and be all by ourselves."

"I wish we could, Jane, but we must have a talk with you before you go to the Hall," returned Judith, her merry features now grown grave.

"What is it, Judy?"

All the brightness had faded from Jane's face. Her famous scowl now darkened her brow. She cast a quick glance from Adrienne to Ethel. Both girls looked unduly solemn.

"Girls, you're keeping something from me; something unpleasant, of course," Jane accused. "I must know what it is. Please tell me. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings."

"We're going to tell you, Jane," Judith said rea.s.suringly. "Only we didn't want to say a word until--until we found out something. But this isn't the place to talk. Let's hail the taxi, anyway. Then he can stop at the Inn or not, just as you please. We'll tell you on the way there."

"All right."

Almost mechanically Jane reached down to pick up the suitcase she had placed on the station platform in the first moment of reunion. All the pleasure of coming back to Wellington had been replaced by a sense of deep depression. In spite of the presence of her chums she felt now as she had formerly felt when just a year before she had stood on that same platform, hating with all her sore heart its group of laughing, chatting girls.

"Do not look so cross, _cherie_." Adrienne had slipped a soft hand into Jane's arm. "All will yet be well. Come, I, your Imp, will lead you to the taxicab."

"And I'll help do the leading," declared Judith gaily, taking hold of Jane's free arm. "Ethel, you can walk behind and carry Jane's traveling bag. That will be some little honor."

Knowing precisely how Jane felt, Judith affected a cheeriness she was far from feeling. She heartily wished that she had not been obliged to say a word to rob her roommate of the first joy of meeting.

While traversing the few yards that lay between the station and the point behind it where several taxicabs waited, both she and Adrienne chattered lively commonplaces. Jane, however, had little to say. She was experiencing the dazed sensation of one who has received an unexpected slap in the face.

What had happened? Why had Judy insisted that they must have a talk before going on to the Hall? Surely some very unpleasant news lay in wait for her ears. But what? Jane had not the remotest idea.

"Now, Judy," she began with brusque directness the instant the quartette were seated in the taxicab, "don't keep me in the dark any longer. You must know how--what a queer feeling all this has given me."

Seated in the tonneau of the automobile, between Adrienne and Judith, Jane turned hurt eyes on the latter.

"Jane," began Judith impressively, "before you went home last year did you arrange with Mrs. Weatherbee about your room for this year?"

"Why, yes."

A flash of amazement crossed Jane's face.

"Of course I did," she went on. "Mrs. Weatherbee understood that I was coming back to Madison Hall."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Judith. "Well, there's just this much about it, Jane. About nine o'clock this morning a little, black-eyed sc.r.a.p of a freshman marched into my room and said Mrs. Weatherbee had a.s.signed her to the other half of my room. I told her she had made a mistake and come to the wrong room. She said 'no,' that Mrs. Weatherbee had sent the maid to the door with her to show her the way."