Jane Allen: Right Guard Part 5

Jane's somber face had lightened into radiant grat.i.tude. "But I _can_ tell you that I'm sorry for my part in any misunderstandings we've had in the past. I don't feel about college now as I did last year."

Carried away by her warm appreciation of the matron's unlooked-for stand in her behalf, Jane found herself telling Mrs. Weatherbee of her pre-conceived hatred of college and of her gradual awakening to a genuine love for Wellington.

Of the personal injuries done her by others she said nothing. Her little outpouring had to do only with her own struggle for spiritual growth.

"It was Dorothy Martin who first showed me the way," she explained. "She made me see myself as a pioneer, and college as a new country. She told me that it depended entirely on me whether or not my freshman claim turned out well. It took me a long time to see that. This year I want to be a better pioneer than I was last. That's why I'd rather not start out by getting someone else into trouble, no matter how much that person is at fault."

During the earnest recital, the matron's stern features had perceptibly softened. She was reflecting that, after all, one person was never free to judge another. That human nature was in itself far too complex to be lightly judged by outward appearances.

"You know the old saying, 'Out of evil some good is sure to come,'" she said, when Jane ceased speaking. "This affair of the letter has already produced one good result. I feel that I am beginning to know the real Jane Allen. You were right in saying that I never understood you.

Perhaps I did not try. I don't know. You were rather different from any other girl whom I ever had before under my charge here."

"I kept up the bars," confessed Jane ruefully. "I didn't wish to see things from any standpoint except my own. I'm trying to break myself of that. I can't honestly say that I have, as yet. I shall probably have a good many fights with myself about it this year. It's not easy to make one's self over in a day or a month or a year. It takes time. That's why I like college so much now. It's helping me to find myself.

"But that's enough about myself." Jane made a little conclusive gesture.

"I hope there won't be any--well--any unpleasantness about my room, Mrs.

Weatherbee. I'd almost rather take that other vacancy than make trouble for you."

"There will be no trouble," was the decisive a.s.surance. "If Miss n.o.ble objects to the change there are other campus houses open to her. I see no reason why she should. She only arrived this morning. She will not be kept waiting for the room. The girl who failed in her examinations left here at noon. I will see about it now."

Mrs. Weatherbee rose to put her promise into immediate effect.

"If you don't mind, I'll join Judith and Adrienne on the veranda. I am anxious to tell them the good news," eagerly declared Jane, now on her feet.

Glancing at the disturbing letter which she held she handed it to Mrs.

Weatherbee with: "What shall you do about this letter?"

"Since the star witness in the case refuses to give testimony, it is hard to decide what to do," smiled the matron. "I might hand the letter to Miss Rutledge, yet I prefer not to do so. It is purely a personal matter. Suppose I were to prosecute an inquiry here at the Hall regarding it. It would yield nothing but indignant protests of innocence. If the writer were one of my girls she would perhaps be loudest in her protests."

Though Jane did not say so, she was of the private opinion that the person she suspected would undoubtedly do that very thing.

"A girl who would write such a letter would be the last to own to writing it," she said dryly.

"Very true. Still things sometimes work out unexpectedly. If we have a mischief maker here, we may eventually discover her. Girls of this type often overreach themselves and thus establish their guilt. I shall not forget this affair." The matron's voice grew stern. "If ever I do discover the writer, she will not be allowed to remain at Madison Hall."

CHAPTER VI

THE PLOT THICKENS

"And Mrs. Weatherbee's gone to oust the disturber of our peace! Oh, joy!"

To emphasize further her satisfaction Judith gave Jane an ecstatic hug.

"You can't be any gladder than I am."

Jane returned the hug with interest.

"But how did it thus happen so beautifully?" questioned Adrienne eagerly.

"It was a mistake----No, it wasn't either. It was----"

Jane paused. She wondered if she had the right to put her friends in possession of what she had so lately learned. Mrs. Weatherbee had not enjoined silence. Adrienne and Judith were absolutely trustworthy. They had forewarned her of the situation. It was only fair that they should be taken into her confidence.

"I've something to tell you girls," she went on slowly. "You must wait to hear it until we are in our room. I'd rather not go into it out here on the veranda."

"All right. We'll be good. I hope the n.o.ble Miss n.o.ble will hurry up and move out," wished Judith. "I can imagine how delighted she'll be."

"She may care but little," shrugged Adrienne. "Of a truth, she has not been here so long. But a few hours! It is not much!"

"I don't believe she'll relish it a bit," prophesied Judith. "She looks to me like one of those persons who get peeved over nothing. Isn't it funny, though? Mrs. Weatherbee made a mistake last year about your room, Jane. Do you remember how haughty you were when you found out you were to room with little Judy?"

"Yes. I was a big goose, wasn't I?" Jane smiled reminiscently. "It wasn't Mrs. Weatherbee's fault this time. That's all I'll say until we three go upstairs."

"Wish she'd hurry," grumbled Judith, referring to the usurping freshman.

"This evacuation business isn't going along very speedily. I wonder if she's unpacked. She hadn't touched her suitcase when I left her. Her trunk hadn't come yet. Maybe it came while we were out. I hope not.

Then there'll be that much less to move."

"Had this Miss n.o.ble examinations to take?" asked Jane.

"No, she told me she was graduated from a prep school last June.

Burleigh, I think she said. I really didn't listen much to her. I was so upset over having her thrust upon me, I didn't want to talk to her."

"Poor Judy."

Jane bestowed a sympathizing pat upon Judith's arm.

"All the time I was thinking 'poor Jane,'" laughed Judith. "Oh, dear!

Why doesn't Mrs. Weatherbee come back. I'm crazy to hear the weird story of your wrongs, Janie."

It was at least fifteen minutes afterward before the matron descended the stairs, looking far from pleased.

Watching for her, Jane stepped inside the house and met her at the foot of the stairs.

"You may move in as soon as you please, Miss Allen," she informed Jane, her annoyed expression vanis.h.i.+ng in a friendly smile.

"Thank you. I sha'n't lose any time in doing it."

Jane returned the smile, thinking in the same moment that it seemed rather odd but decidedly nice to be on such pleasant terms with the woman she had once thoroughly disliked.

"Did you notice how vexed Mrs. Weatherbee looked when she came downstairs?" was Judith's remark as the door of her room closed behind them. "I'll bet she had her own troubles with the usurper."

"First the disturber, then the usurper. You have, indeed, many names for this one poor girl," giggled Adrienne.

"Oh, I can think of a lot more," grinned Judith. "But what's the use.

She has departed bag and baggage. To quote your own self, 'It is sufficient.' Now go ahead, Jane, and spin your yarn."