Marjorie Dean, College Senior Part 19

She turned and fairly ran down the hall, leaving Marjorie to look smilingly after her. She had not had time to say a word in return for the impulsive little recognition of her own worth.

"Why don't you invite your company inside the room instead of whispering to them in the hall?" demanded Jerry with a ferocious scowl, as Marjorie re-entered. "Once I was your honored confidant. Now I am-What am I? An idiot, let us say, for studying Political Science. It's werry dry and werry hard, Bean."

"You are still my honored confidant. I never considered you an idiot, and I loathe Political Science. I wasn't whispering outside the door, though. I was talking to _l'enfant angelique_, suppose we call her. She came to tell me that the other girls on the team are minding their own affairs as they should."

"I'm amazed," Jerry retorted genially. "Gloomy Gus has certainly arrived. She was a whirlwind today. Without her the fres.h.i.+es would not have whipped the sophs. She's agile, and has a good eye for the basket.

She landed some beauties this afternoon."

Marjorie seconded this opinion. After a further remark or two, Jerry turned her attention to the despised intricacies of Political Science.

Marjorie made a valiant effort to study, but her mind roved to her personal affairs. She finally took paper and pencil and began to jot down the various things she must do before going home for the Christmas holidays.

Paramount among them was a visit she must make to Miss Susanna. The nine girls whom the old lady had taken into her liking had already ordered their tribute of flowers to be sent to her on the day before Christmas.

Marjorie always felt rather timid about going to Hamilton Arms without a special invitation. She had done so once or twice that fall, as Miss Susanna had invited her to come to the Arms at any time. She finally decided to write her eccentric friend a note, asking permission to spend a part of the next Sunday afternoon with her. That would really be the only free time she would have before Christmas. College would close the following Thursday for the Yuletide holidays.

In the light of after events Marjorie looked back on that particular Sunday afternoon as having been, the most perfect visit she had ever made Miss Susanna. The old lady unbent conversationally to a marked degree. She related incidents concerning her life at Hamilton Arms, and also that of her distinguished uncle, Brooke Hamilton, which, ordinarily, would have remained obstinately locked behind her stubborn lips.

Listening to Marjorie's account of the recent failure of the Nineteen Travelers to secure the site for the proposed dormitory, Miss Susanna waxed quite indignant over the manner in which the loss had been effected.

"Too bad that man Cutler didn't have John Saxe's address," she said tersely. "I know John very well. I remember him as a youngster in kilts.

I have been told that Cutler is an honorable gentleman. That's saying a good deal for a real estate agent in these days of trickery."

"He spoke of that piece of ground beyond those two blocks of houses which belongs to the Carden estate. He said the Cardens might decide to sell it some day." Marjorie spoke with the unfailing optimism of youth.

"Not to anyone connected with Hamilton College." Miss Susanna's face had set harshly at mention of the name Carden. "Alec Carden was the man I had trouble with that wound up my interest in Hamilton College. He is dead now. He had two sons, both married and the heads of families. One of them lives at Carden Hedge, off and on. The other is a financier in New York, I believe. They were always a hard, tricky, dishonorable set.

But enough of them. Cutler didn't say who owned that block of houses below the one you lost, did he?"

"Why, no," Marjorie replied after brief reflection. "I can't recall that he said more than that they were not for sale."

"Indeed, they are not for sale!" exclaimed Miss Hamilton. "Those houses belong to me. Uncle Brooke once owned the other block. He sold it to John Saxe's father."

"Then we need never hope to build our dormitory where your houses now stand." Marjorie could not resist saying this. She smiled, looking her hostess squarely in the eyes as she uttered the pointed remark.

It appeared to amuse Miss Susanna immensely. She laughed and said: "You are a straightforward child, aren't you? To please you I would be glad to part with those properties for a small sum. I can't consider the situation from that standpoint, unfortunately. I am done with Hamilton College. That settles the matter. Suppose we talk about something else."

Quite accustomed to the old lady's moods, Marjorie obligingly complied with the preemptory request. Neither did she allow it to intrude upon her mind until she had left Miss Susanna that evening. She carried with her a basket of be-ribboned packages to be distributed among the eight girls of Miss Susanna's acquaintance. The old lady's emphatic order had been: "These are to be opened on Christmas morning; not a minute before."

As she hurried lightly along over the frozen ground, Marjorie wondered mightily what dire calamity had been precipitated to incur such implacable hatred against Hamilton College as Miss Susanna plainly harbored. She could never think of it rather than sorrowfully. It seemed so sad, that, after all the time and labor and love Brooke Hamilton had lavished upon the college, one of his own kin should be its most unrelenting enemy.

Meanwhile Miss Hamilton had rung for Jonas and was repeating to him all that Marjorie had said to her. Jonas occupied in her household the position of manager, servitor and valued friend. He was close to eighty years of age and had been at Hamilton Arms even longer than had Miss Susanna. He had, as a young man, served Brooke Hamilton faithfully during the latter's declining years.

"By right, Jonas, I ought to turn over that property to those energetic youngsters," she a.s.serted in her quick, matter-of-fact fas.h.i.+on. "Their object is really a worthy one."

"They are trying to carry on _his_ work," Jonas rejoined solemnly. "He would have wanted it to be so, Miss Susanna."

"Oh, I know it, Jonas; I know it." There was more than a shade of regret in the admission. "I can't overlook some things. The college doesn't deserve it from me; not after the way I was treated by the Board. No; they can't have it. If there was any good way to get hold of that strip of open ground of Cardens, I'd do it. Cutler could be trusted to sell it to Marjorie, and her friend Robin, without mentioning me in the transaction. I'd do it only to please the child, though; only to please her."

CHAPTER XX-ON HAMILTON HIGHWAY

Rehearsals of "The Maid of Honor" had been begun before the holiday vacation. Returned from their fortnight's recreation, it did not take the ill.u.s.trious cast long to pick up again in their parts. Muriel, much to her amazement, had been chosen for Berenice, the heroine. Jerry reveled in the part of Piccato, the jester. Leila was to play the male lead of Florenzo, an amba.s.sador from the Spanish Court. He falls desperately in love with Berenice, who has been promised from childhood to Lord Carstairs, an English n.o.bleman, favored by Queen Elizabeth for his harshly dominating personality. Ronny was cast for Narita, a court dancer, who finally aids Berenice to escape from England with Florenzo, her courtier husband, whom she has secretly married.

On account of her height and breadth of shoulder, Augusta Forbes had been asked to take the part of Lord Carstairs. For several days after Leila had requisitioned her services as an actor, she went about with her head in the clouds. Her chums were no less pleased over the honor that had fallen to "Gus." Neither had they been forgotten. The play required a large number of extra persons for courtiers, ladies in waiting, etc. The Bertram girls were among the first invited to grace the stage in these minor roles.

Luckily for the managers of the performance, the cedar chest in the attic furnished enough really gorgeous court costumes to fit out the princ.i.p.al male characters. This was due to the fact of the small percentage of women in the Shakespearian dramas for which the costumes had been originally fas.h.i.+oned. As neither Leila, Vera, Helen nor Martha Merrick were overburdened with subjects, they took upon themselves the getting together of the costumes for the feminine contingent.

On a Friday evening, the latter part of January, "The Maid of Honor" was presented to an overflowing house. The gymnasium had, as usual, served as theatre on account of its seating capacity. While the stage of Greek Hall was much better as a stage, its auditorium would hold not more than two hundred persons.

Actors, author and managers received enough applause during the play, and enough adulation afterward, to turn their youthful heads. Honors were so evenly divided among the princ.i.p.als it was hard to say who deserved the most praise. Katherine, as author, received, perhaps, the most admiring tribute of them all.

Acting upon Jerry's shrewd advice, two dollars had been set as the price of admission with no reserved seats. She had argued that two dollars was less than persons of their means usually paid for seats at a theatre. In order not to leave out the off-the-campus girls, Ronny had counted them up and bought tickets for them. These she commissioned Anna Towne to distribute with the stern warning: "Don't one of your crowd dare stay away from our play."

The net receipts of the play amounted to eleven hundred, forty dollars, which the gratified managers banked with gleeful satisfaction.

Immediately they set to work on a new play, also by Kathie, ent.i.tled, "The Wys.h.i.+nge Welle," a drama of the Saxons in Ethelbert's time. This was hailed with jubilation by Leila, who was especially fond of the life of this period of history. The latter part of February would see its presentation. If the promoters of drama at Hamilton found it did not interfere too greatly with their studies, they planned to give two more plays, a musical revue and a concert before the closing of the college in June.

After the stir occasioned by "The Maid of Honor" had died out came a restful lull. January vanished rapidly into the deep pocket of the year.

February arrived, sharp and bl.u.s.tering in its early days; warm and full of frequent thaws toward its close. Suns.h.i.+ne and absence of snow made it fine weather for automobiling, and the students of Hamilton were quick to take advantage of it.

"A lot of girls are out with their cars today," Marjorie observed to Jerry as she stood before the mirror of her dressing table adjusting her hat. "I almost wish I had one. Still, I don't need it, and it would be an extravagance for me. I wouldn't have a cent to give toward the dormitory. That's why Robin and some of the other Travelers won't have their cars here. The upkeep is so great. At home, garage rent is not more than ten dollars a month. The girls here pay from fifteen to twenty."

"That's because they are a college crowd. A garage proprietor figures that a girl who can afford to keep a car at Hamilton can afford to pay a good, stiff garage rent," declared Jerry shrewdly.

"Correct, as usual, Jeremiah." Marjorie turned from the mirror and began drawing on her gloves.

"My head is level, Bean; extremely so. I suppose you won't be back before nine o'clock."

"About that time. What shall I say to Miss Susanna for you?" It being Sat.u.r.day afternoon, Marjorie was on the point of setting out for Hamilton Arms. She had received a note from Miss Susanna on the day previous inviting her to spend the afternoon and take dinner at the Arms.

"Tell her to invite me next time," modestly requested Jerry. "Remind her that she hasn't entertained the crowd of us since before Christmas."

"I believe I _will_ tell her that, Jeremiah." Marjorie tipped her head to one side and regarded her room-mate with apparent seriousness.

"If you do," Jerry looked startled, "I'll never forgive you, Marjorie Dean."

"Then I won't tell her." Marjorie's sober face relaxed into a teasing smile.

"Uh-h; I guess not," Jerry smiled with her. "I don't know what I shall do this afternoon. Hunt up Helen and make her take me to ride, maybe.

Oh, I forgot. Leila is going to West Hamilton. She said she'd take me with her. I'm saved from my own society."

"I wish you were going with me." Marjorie paused regretfully, hand on the door k.n.o.b.

"Don't worry over me, as Danny Seabrooke loves to say. Beat it." Jerry waved a jesting hand at Marjorie. "Shoo! Begone!"

Laughing, Marjorie went. As she left the college gates behind her she was thrilled with the joy of being alive on such a day. The clear skies, brilliant suns.h.i.+ne and pleasant tang in the air inspired joy of living.

Once on the highway, several girls driving their cars called out to her, asking her to ride. To each invitation she smilingly said "No." In the first place she could not very well ask a student she might ride with to drop her at Hamilton Arms. In the second place she infinitely preferred to walk.

"It is such a fine day I thought you might like to take a walk with me to see my head gardener," Miss Hamilton proposed shortly after Marjorie's arrival. "He fell on the ice not long ago and broke his arm.