CHAPTER IX
WHAT EVELYN HEARD ON THE CAMPUS
"Ha! Whom have we here?" declaimed Emma Dean, pointing dramatically, asGrace opened the door and stepped into their room. One look at Grace'ssensitive face was sufficient. Emma had lived close to her friend toolong not to know the signs of dejection in the features that usuallyshone with hope and cheerfulness. "Advance and show your countersign,"she commanded.
"I haven't any," returned Grace soberly.
"Spoken like a brigadier general who doesn't need one," retorted Emma."You are just in time to hear my terrible tale.
"Oh, a terrible tale I have to tell Of the terrible fate that once befell A teacher of English who once resided In the same recitation room that I did,"
she rendered tunefully.
The shadow disappeared like magic from Grace's face. "Now what have youdone, you funny girl?" she asked, her sad face breaking into smiles.Emma was irresistible.
"It is not what I have _done_, but what I _might_ have done. What was itWhittier said in 'Maud Muller'?"
"There's really no one under the sun Can blame you for what you might have done,"
paraphrased Emma briskly.
Grace giggled outright. "Poor Whittier," she sympathized.
"Don't pity him," objected Emma. "Pity me for what nearly happened tome. The illustrious name of Dean came within a little of traveling aboutOverton attached to a funny story, which I will now relate for your soleedification. You remember that pile of themes I brought home onTuesday?"
Grace nodded.
"Well, I finished them last night and wrapped them up ready to take backto the classroom to-day. They made a good-sized bundle, because I hadcollected them from all my classes. This morning I was in a hurry, so Ipicked up my bundle and ran. I always like to be in my classroom in goodseason. But fate was against me, for I met Miss Dutton, that newassistant in Greek, and she stopped me to ask me numerous questions, asshe is fain to do unless one sees her first, and from afar off enoughto suddenly change one's course and miss her. Consequently I marchedinto my room to find my class assembled. I assumed a dignity which Ididn't feel, for I hate being late, and laid my bundle of themes on mydesk. Every eye was fixed reprovingly upon me. I had said so muchagainst straggling into class late, yet here I had committed that verycrime. I untied my bundle and was just going to open it when thatblack-eyed Miss Atherton asked me a question. I answered the question,my eyes on her, my fingers folding back the paper. I reached for mythemes and my hand closed over cloth instead of paper. A positive chillwent up and down my spine. I gave one horrified glance at the supposedtheme and poked it out of sight in a hurry. Another second and I wouldhave offered some one my white linen skirt in full view of my class.Instead of themes I had brought my clean laundry to English IV."
"Oh, Emma!" gasped Grace mirthfully.
"You're not a bit sympathetic," declared Emma with pretended severity.
How Elfreda would love that tale. She would revel in the vision of EmmaDean solemnly proffering her linen skirt to an unsuspecting class. "Ideclare, Emma, you have driven away the blues."
"Have I?" inquired Emma with guileful innocence. It was precisely whatshe had intended to do. "What is troubling you, Gracious?"
"I can't endure the thought of losing Miss Wilder. I went to see herthis morning and met Miss Wharton. I----"
"Don't like her," finished Emma calmly.
"No, I don't," returned Grace, with sudden vigor, "but how did you knowit?"
"Because I don't like her, either. I was introduced to her yesterdayafternoon in Miss Wilder's office. I didn't tell you, because I wishedyou to form your own impression of her, first hand."
"She was positively rude to me, Emma. She made me feel like a littlegirl. She said I looked more like a student than a person in charge of acampus house."
"I agree with her," was Emma's bland reply. "You might easily be takenfor a freshman."
"But she didn't mean it in the nice way that you do," said Grace. "Ihope she never comes to inspect Harlowe House. She will be sure to findfault."
"She'll have to make a sharp search," predicted Emma. "We won't worryabout it until she comes, will we? Now, what else is on your mind?"
"The Riddle," admitted Grace. She related what she had heard fromKathleen regarding the sale.
"H-m-m!" was Emma's dry response. "They took good care that I shouldn'thear of it."
"I'm so sorry Evelyn lent herself to something she knew would displeaseme," mourned Grace.
"Perhaps she didn't. I know for a certainty that she wasn't in the houseSaturday afternoon, for I met her on the campus and she told me that shewas going to take luncheon and spend the afternoon with Althea Parker."
"She must have _known_ about it."
"I am afraid the news of this sale will travel rapidly," prophesiedEmma. "Not only will Miss Brent be talked over, but you also will becriticized. You know I advised you, not long ago, to insist that MissBrent make a full explanation of things. Take my advice and see her atonce."
"I will," decided Grace. "I'll have a talk with her after dinnerto-night."
Grace was not the only one, however, to whom the news of the sale cameas a shock. Strangely enough Evelyn learned of it during the afternoonof the same day in which it had come to Grace's ears. Her attention hadbeen attracted to a smart black and white check coat which EdnaCorrell, a very plain freshman who tried to make up in extreme dressingwhat she lacked in beauty, was wearing. In crossing the campus on herway to Harlowe House she had encountered Edna in company with anotherfreshman. For an instant she had wondered why the sight of the black andwhite coat which Edna wore seemed so strangely familiar. Then it haddawned upon her that it was identical with a coat belonging to Jean.
"How do you like my new coat?" had been Edna's salutation, and Evelynhad replied. "It's wonderfully smart. Miss Brent has one very much likeit."
"She had one, you mean," Edna had corrected. "Why, weren't you at thesale last Saturday! I suppose you selected what you wanted beforehand.That is where you had the advantage."
"What sale?" Evelyn had asked, completely mystified. Then explanationshad followed. White with suppressed anger, Evelyn had bade Edna a hastygood-bye and sped across the campus toward Harlowe House. Without a wordshe brushed by the maid who answered the bell, and rushed upstairs asfast as she could run. The temper which she had tried so hard to controlwas now at a high pitch. How dared Jean deliberately place her in suchan unpleasant position when she was trying so hard to be worthy of MissHarlowe's confidence? She flung open the door of her room. Then her eyessought and found Jean standing before the wardrobe, her back to thedoor, a pair of black satin slippers in her hand.
"How could you do it?" burst forth Evelyn. "You know Miss Harloweforbade it. Now she will think that I knew all about it. Just when I amtrying to merit her confidence."
Jean Brent whirled about. Her blue eyes flashed. One of the slippers sheheld in her hand swished through the air and landed with a thud againstthe opposite wall. The wave of anger with which she faced Evelyn waslike the sudden sweep of a gale of wind out of a clear sky. The otherslipper followed the first one. Then the doors of the wardrobe wereslammed shut with a force that caused it to shake. To Evelyn it was asthough a strong current of air had blown upon her. Here, indeed was atemper that outranked her own.
"What right have you to speak to me in such a tone?" raged Jean. "Youhave nothing to say as to what I shall or shall not do. I won't pretendI don't know what you mean. I do know. I don't in the least care whatyou think about it, either. My clothes are mine to do with just whateverI please. If Miss Harlowe imagines I am going to be a servant to halfthe girls at Overton for the sake of earning my fees she is mistaken.Why should she or any one else object to my selling my things, if Ilike? I don't see how you found it out. The girls promised to keep thewhole affair to themselves. I don't understand why you should be soconcerned, or what it has to do with Miss Harlowe'
s opinion of you. Fromwhat you say I might almost assume that there had been a time when _you_were not to be trusted."
Evelyn's beautiful face was crimson with anger and humiliation. Shelonged to answer Jean's arraignment with a flood of words as bitter asher own, but her determined effort of months to rule her spirit now borefruit.
"I'm sorry I spoke so abruptly," she said coldly. "I just heard aboutthe sale from Miss Correll. You were quite right in what you said. Therewas a time when I could not be trusted. My trouble was about clothes,too. Miss Harlowe helped me find my self-respect again, and this year Iam trying very hard to be an Overton girl in the truest sense of theword. I am telling you this in confidence because I wish you tounderstand why Miss Harlowe's good opinion is so dear to me."
"You can go and tell her that you knew nothing about the sale," mutteredJean sullenly. Something in Evelyn's frank confession had made her feela trifle ashamed of herself.
Evelyn's violet eyes grew scornful. "How can you suggest such a thing?"she asked.
It was Jean's turn to blush. "Forgive me," she said penitently. "I knowyou aren't a tell-tale. If she asks me about the sale, be sure I'llexonerate you."
Evelyn shook her head. "I wish you'd go to her, Jean, and tell her whatyou have done. Sooner or later she is sure to find it out."
But Jean Brent was in no mood for this advice. It caused her anger toblaze afresh. "There you go again," she blustered, "with yourgoody-goody advice to me about running to Miss Harlowe with every littlething I do. I hope I'm not such a baby. If Miss Harlowe sends for me,don't think for a minute that I'll be afraid to face her, but until she_does_ send for me I am not going to concern myself about it, and Iwould advise you not to trouble yourself, either."
With this succinct advice Jean made a fresh onslaught on the unoffendingwardrobe. Opening it she seized her hat and coat. With a lastreverberating slam of its long-suffering doors she turned her back on itand Evelyn, and switched defiantly out of the room and on out of thehouse.
Grace Harlowe's Problem Page 9
