Elizabeth Hobart at Exeter Hall Part 24

Mary Wilson's especial duty was to restrain Elizabeth from holding communication with the others. With true diplomacy, she kept her roommate busy so that she had no time to visit other rooms.

"Just hear me go over my oration once more, Elizabeth, please," she would say. "I'm apt to get careless if I recite without an audience. Sit over there by the window. I'll stand here. Now, don't be afraid to tell me if you think I might improve any part."

And Elizabeth would patiently sit and listen. She showed great interest.

She followed closely every word. She lost no gesture, no facial expression. "I think I could repeat it word for word," she said, when Mary had practiced for the last time, the morning of Cla.s.s-day. "I could make every gesture you do. I'm really looking forward to this evening."

Mary's face flushed with pleasure. "I'm glad you like it. I hope it will pa.s.s off well. You see, the chapel will be crowded. The galleries are always filled; and, visitors are glad to get standing room below. It's our best day, and I wish to do myself and the school credit." Then suddenly remembering that she was to find out what she could of the Middlers'

plans, she asked suddenly, "Have you any engagement for to-morrow evening, Elizabeth? What do you say about getting up a tally-ho party, our own set and a few visitors, and driving out by moonlight?"

Elizabeth turned her head aside as though she did not wish Mary to see her embarra.s.sment. She hesitated before replying. "I--I--don't believe I can, Mary."

"Have you any engagement?"

"Well,--Oh, I don't know what to say. Please don't ask me."

Mary smiled to herself, then turned back to the mirror for the better arrangement of her hair. Her convictions were strengthened. Whatever the Middlers had on hand, to-morrow night was the time for the doings. When to-morrow night came--! Mary smiled at the thought. To-morrow night would find every Middler followed by a Senior.

The week had begun with the excitement usually attendant upon commencement. Relatives and friends began to appear on Monday. The continuous flow of guests taxed to the limit the accommodations of the Hall. Bedrooms were doing double duty. Meals were taken in relays. Every one bore with exceedingly good humor the little inconveniences incident to such an overflow.

Dr. Shull of the Irvington Female College lectured to the cla.s.s Tuesday morning. This was followed by the presentation of diplomas. The graduates in caps and gowns marched through the chapel and across the stage. So far as commencement proper was concerned, this was their first and last appearance.

"But wait until this evening, and the Thursday night promenade! We'll s.h.i.+ne then," Mary Wilson had whispered confidentially to her friends.

"Every girl in the cla.s.s has done herself proud about her new gowns--one for the prom and one for to-night, not to mention a few extras for the tree-planting and the rose parade."

The eventful evening came at last. Mrs. Jones bearing extra switches and fancy combs, her ebony face wreathed in smiles, had already arrived, and stood waiting Miss Wilson's pleasure. The much-talked-of dress of s.h.i.+mmering silk, over which point d'esprit hung like a cloud, lay over the bed ready for its wearer.

The girls were hurrying, as the time was growing short. Elizabeth stood ready to slip into the simple white frock which Joe Ratowsky had brought from Bitumen a few days before. She took up her dress and then laid it down again, and turned to the mirror pretending to put a stray lock in place.

"Hurry, you'll have no time to waste, Elizabeth. You must get in early if you wish a seat."

Just then a knock came at the door. Without waiting an invitation, Nancy thrust her head in. She had not yet dressed; but was wearing a bright kimono, her yellow hair streaming over her shoulders.

"Mary, hurry up to the chapel anteroom. Oh, don't wait to dress. There's a change in the program and every one who is to take part must come at once.

Hurry! They are waiting for you."

Picking up the belt she had just discarded, and fastening it as she walked, Mary hurriedly quitted the room. The anteroom was a small place fitted up like a parlor, at the side of the stage and on a level with it.

A single pane of gla.s.s fixed solidly in the wall gave the occupants a view of the stage, yet they could not be seen by the audience. It was here the teacher of oratory sat during the performance. At times, it served as a dressing-room.

The curtain was down. In order to save time and steps, Mary ran across the stage, between the scenery. At her hurried knock a key was turned, and the door of the anteroom opened wide enough to allow her to slip in.

"Hus.h.!.+" the doorkeeper whispered, carefully locking the door after admitting her.

Landis, Mame, Anna Cresswell and a dozen others were already there.

"Are we all here now?" whispered the doorkeeper. They began to count. The light was so dim that they could barely distinguish faces.

"Fourteen," said Landis. "That is all."

"Be sure," admonished the keeper of the keys in sepulchral tones. "I would not for worlds have one absent."

"That's all." "Fourteen." "We're all here." "Do tell us so that we can hurry back to dress!" came from the members of the group.

At this, the girl with the keys drew her chair close to a second door leading into a dark, unfinished attic. Over the door which was nailed shut was a small transom. As she mounted the chair, Mary Wilson for the first time recognized her as a Miss Bowman, a special student in music, neither a Middler nor a Senior.

"Then," said Miss Bowman, lifting her hand with the key in it to the open transom, and turning to face the girls, "then we'll stay here." With that she dropped the key into the attic. They were prisoners; she, with them.

"It's those Middlers," groaned Mary Wilson. "We might have known; and my little innocent Elizabeth is at the bottom of this."

"Console yourselves," advised Miss Bowman. "When the curtain goes up, you will have a fine view of the Senior exercises. They will be well worth the price you've paid for admission."

CHAPTER XIII.

IMPRISONMENT.

Elizabeth turned the key in the lock the instant Mary stepped from the room. Then, as quickly as possible, she got into her roommate's white gown. Mrs. Jones, with a broad smile playing over her ebony features, stood by with pins and ribbons. From her mysterious boxes, that Mary supposed contained the switches with which one could do wonders, she brought forth a wig of yellow-brown hair.

"'Pears like this 'ud do. The other young lady hab hair what just come to her shoulders."

"It is just fine," exclaimed Elizabeth, "as near the color of Miss Wilson's as I can hope for." She studied herself in the mirror as Mrs.

Jones adjusted the wig. "I know every gesture that Mary makes except this." She gave her head a toss, shaking back the fringe of hair about her shoulders.

She hurried dressing for it was almost time for the curtain to rise.

"There!" she cried. "I'm ready. I hope the way is clear for me."

Hastening to the door, she peered into the hall. Not a 'n.o.ble Senior' was in sight. The girls flitting through the dormitories were Middlers and Freshmen. Confident that she was safe from interference, Elizabeth, her white gown trailing after her, started forth for the chapel. Nancy Eckdahl and Mame Welch joined her at the foot of the stairway.

"Don't I look like a boiled lobster?" cried Nancy. "But this was the only dress anywhere near my size. It's Nora O'Day's. Isn't it handsome? It is unfortunate that she is so dark and I so fair. But it was this or nothing.

Think of a yellow-haired girl in an orange-colored gown."

The effect was startling. Nora, with her dark eyes and coloring, would have looked like a picture in this vivid orange; but Nancy, with her blue eyes and flaxen hair, looked anything but picturesque.

"But you are comfortable," gasped Mame, in short breaths. "If Min Kean had had a little more flesh on her bones when this dress was fitted, I would have felt better now. Nancy had to use a shoe-hook to fasten the b.u.t.tons."

"Have you seen Laura Downs? She looks exactly like Landis. The dress fits except it is a little short in the waist; but Azzie pinned up the skirt.

It doesn't look bad. She was in our room before she went down. And she 'did' Landis to perfection--that same haughty manner that Landis has when she means to impress one."

As they moved along, their number increased. The leading spirits of the Middler cla.s.s were there, each decked out in the new gown that some Senior, whose manner and tricks of speech she had been studying for weeks to impersonate, would have worn had she not been locked up in the little greenroom near the stage of the chapel.

There had been no Middler of sufficient height and dignity to impersonate Dr. Morgan. Yet she was a light of so great magnitude that she could not be ignored. Miss Hogue, a special student, a girl devoted to the cla.s.sics, and a writer for all the school papers, had been pressed into service. Dr.

Morgan when she had appeared upon the rostrum during the commencement exercises had worn a gown of black lace, its sombre tone relieved by cuffs and collar of cream d.u.c.h.ess. She was very slender and erect. Her ma.s.s of brown hair, touched with gray, was always dressed in the same style.

During all the years she had been at Exeter, it had been worn in a great coil on the top of her head. Dr. Morgan was no longer young. During the last year, she had been compelled to use eye-gla.s.ses. These were attached to her bodice by a gold chain. As she talked they were held in her hand the greater part of the time. In physique, Miss Hogue was Dr. Morgan's double. Robed in the black gown, which she had borrowed from Dr. Morgan's maid, and with her hair powdered, she could have easily pa.s.sed as the doctor herself.

Miss Bowman, in company with her fourteen Seniors, sat in the greenroom and waited. There was no lack of conversation, although Miss Bowman took little part in it. However, she was an interested listener, and laughed heartily at the remarks of her charges. They threatened her; they cajoled; they flattered; they offered her all the good things that could be laid at a Senior's feet during Commencement. When these availed nothing, they expressed themselves strongly. At intervals of a few minutes, one of the girls would try the doors, shaking them, and pounding with her fists on the panels.