CHAPTER V
GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE PICTURE GIRL
"Welcome to Sanford," whispered the girl, "and to the freshman class. Iwas sure when I saw you the other day you couldn't be anything otherthan a freshman."
Marjorie flushed, then smiled faintly. "I didn't think any of the girlswould remember me," she confessed.
"Oh, I remember you perfectly. You were across the street from school onthree different days, weren't you?"
Marjorie nodded. "I just had to come down and get acquainted with theoutside of the school. I was awfully curious about it."
"Miss Harding," a cold voice at their elbows caused both girls to start.So intent had they been on their conversation that they had not noticedMiss Merton's approach, "you may answer any questions Miss Dean wishesto ask regarding our course of study here as set forth in ourcurriculum." She laid a closely printed sheet of paper before Marjorie."This does not mean, however, the personal conversation in which, I amsorry to say, you appeared to be engrossed when I approached. Remember,Miss Dean, that personal conversation will neither be excused nortolerated in the study hall. I trust I shall not have to remind you ofthis again."
Marjorie watched with unseeing eyes the angular form of the teacher asshe retreated to her platform. If Miss Merton had dealt her a blow onher upturned face, it could have hurt no more severely than had thisunlooked-for reprimand. She was filled with a choking sense of shamethat threatened to end in a burst of angry sobs. The deep blush that hadrisen to her face receded, leaving her very white. Those studentssitting in her immediate vicinity had, of course, heard Miss Merton. Sheglanced quickly about to encounter two pairs of eyes. One pair was blueand, it seemed to the embarrassed newcomer, sympathetic. Their owner wasthe "Mary" girl, who sat two seats behind her in the next aisle. Theother pair was cruelly mocking, and they belonged to the girl thatMarjorie had mentally styled the Evil Genius. Something in theirtaunting depths stirred an hitherto unawakened chord in gentle MarjorieDean. She returned the insolent gaze with one so full of steady strengthand defiance that the girl's eyes dropped before it and she devotedherself assiduously to the open book which she held in her hand.
"Don't mind Miss Merton," whispered Muriel, comfortingly. "She is theworst crank I ever saw. No one likes her. I don't believe even MissArcher does. She's been here for ages, so the Board of Education thinksthat Sanford High can't run without her, I guess."
"I'm so mortified and ashamed," murmured Marjorie. "On my first day,too."
"Don't think about it," soothed Muriel. "What studies are you going totake? I hope you will recite in some of my classes. Wait a moment. I'llcome back there and sit with you; then we'll make less noise. MissMerton told me to help you, you know," she reminded, with a softchuckle.
The fair head and the dark one bent earnestly over the printed sheet.Marjorie whispered her list of subjects to her new friend, who jottedthem down on the margin of the program.
"How about 9.15 English Comp?" she asked. "That's my section."
Marjorie nodded her approval.
"Then you can recite algebra with me at 10.05, and there's a first-yearFrench class at 11.10. That brings three subjects in the morning. Now,let me see about your history. If you can make your history andphysiology come the first two periods in the afternoon, you will bethrough by three o'clock and can have that last half hour for study orgym, or whatever you like. I am carrying only four subjects, so I havenothing but physical geography in the afternoon. I am through recitingevery day by 2 o'clock, so I learn most of my lessons in school andhardly ever take my books home. If I were you, I'd drop onesubject--American History, for instance. You can study it later. Thefreshman class is planning a lot of good times for this winter, and, ofcourse, you want to be in them, too, don't you?"
"I should say so," beamed Marjorie. "Still," her face sobering, "I thinkI won't drop history. It's easy, and I love it."
"Well, I don't," emphasized Muriel. "By the way, do you playbasketball?"
"I played left guard on our team last year, and I had just been chosenfor center on the freshman team, at Franklin High, when I left there,"was the whispered reply.
"That's encouraging," declared Muriel. "We haven't chosen our team yet.We are to have a tryout at four o'clock on Friday afternoon in thegymnasium. You can go to the meeting with me, although you will have metmost of the freshman class before Friday. Oh, yes, did Miss Archer tellyou that we report in the study hall at half-past eight o'clock onMonday and Friday mornings? We have chapel exercises, and woe be untoyou if you are late. It's an unforgivable offense in Miss Merton's eyesto walk into chapel after the service has begun. If you are late, youtake particular pains to linger around the corridor until the linecomes out of chapel, then you slide into your section and march into thestudy hall as boldly as though you'd never been late in your life,"ended Muriel with a giggle, which she promptly smothered.
"But what if Miss Merton sees one?"
Muriel made a little resigned gesture. "Try it some day and see. There'sthe 9.15 bell. Come along. If we hurry we'll have a minute with thegirls before class begins. All of my chums recite English this firsthour. You needn't stop at Miss Merton's desk. It'll be all right."
Marjorie walked down the aisle behind Muriel, looking rather worried.Then she touched Muriel's arm. "I think I'd rather stop and speak toMiss Merton," she said with soft decision.
"All right," the response came indifferently as Muriel, a bored look onher youthful face, walked on ahead.
Marjorie walked bravely up to the teacher. "Miss Merton, I have arrangedmy studies and recitation hours. Miss Harding is going to show me theway to the English composition class."
Miss Merton stared coldly at the girl's vivid, colorless face, framed inits soft brown curls. Her own youth had been prim and narrow, and shefelt that she almost hated this girl whose expressive features gavepromise of remarkable personality and abundant joy of living.
"Very well." The disagreeable note of dismissal in the teacher's voiceangered Marjorie.
"I'll never again speak to her unless it's positively necessary," sheresolved resentfully. "I wish I'd taken Miss Harding's advice."
"Well, did she snap your head off?" inquired Muriel as Marjorie joinedher.
"No," was the brief answer.
"It's a wonder. There goes the third bell. It's on to English comp forus. I won't have time to introduce you to the girls. We'll have to waituntil noon. Miss Flint teaches English. She's a dear, and everyone likesher."
Muriel's voice dropped on her last speech, for they were now enteringthe classroom. At the first flat-topped desk in one corner of the roomsat a small, fair woman with a sweet, sunshiny face that quite wonMarjorie to her.
"Miss Flint, this is Miss Dean," began Muriel, as they stopped beforethe desk. "She is a freshman and has just been registered in the studyhall by Miss Merton."
A long, earnest glance passed between teacher and pupil, then Marjoriefelt her hand taken between two small, warm palms. "I am sure Miss Deanand I are going to be friends," said a sweet, reassuring voice thatamply made up for Miss Merton's stiffness. "Are you a stranger inSanford, my dear? I am sure I have never seen you before."
"We have lived here a week," smiled Marjorie. "We moved here fromB----."
"How interesting. Were you a student of Franklin High School? I have adear friend who teaches English there."
"Oh!" exclaimed Marjorie, her eyes sparkling, "do you mean MissFielding?"
"Yes," returned Miss Flint. "We were best friends during our collegedays, too. Hampton College is our alma mater."
"That is where I hope to go when I finish high school. Miss Fielding hastold me so many nice things about Hampton," was Marjorie's eager reply.Then she added impetuously, "I'm going to like Sanford, too. I'm quitesure of it."
"That is the right spirit in which to begin your work here," was theinstant response. "I will assign you to that last seat in the third row.We do not change seats. Each girl is given her own place for the year."
After the class was dismissed Miss Flint detained Marjorie for a momentto ask a few questions regarding her text and note books. Muriel waitedin the corridor. Her face wore an expression of extreme satisfaction.It looked as though the new freshman might be a distinct addition to thecritical little company of girls who had set themselves as rulers andarbiters of the freshman class. She was pretty, wore lovely clothes,lived in a big house in a select neighborhood, had played center on acity basketball team, and was the friend of Miss Flint's friend. To besure, Mignon La Salle might raise some objection to the newcomer. Mignonwas so unreasonably jealous. But for all her money, Mignon must not beallowed always to have her own way. Muriel was sure the rest of thegirls would be quite in favor of adding Marjorie Dean to their number.They needed one more girl to complete their sextette. To Marjorie shouldfall the honor.
"I'll introduce her to the girls this noon, and let them look her over.Then I'll have a talk with them to-night and see what they think,"planned Muriel as she went back to the study hall at Marjorie's side.
There was a hurried exchange of books, then Marjorie was rushed off toher algebra recitation. Here she found herself at least two weeks aheadof the others, and was able to solve a problem at the blackboard thathad puzzled several members of the class, thereby winning a reputationfor herself as a mathematician to which it afterward proved anything buteasy to live up to.
While in both her English and algebra classes Marjorie had searched theroom with alert eyes for the girl who looked like Mary. She felt vaguelydisappointed. She had hoped to come into closer contact with her. Sheliked Muriel, she decided, but she did not altogether understand herhalf-cordial, half-joking manner. She was rather glad that she was to goto her French class alone. She had told Muriel not to bother. She couldfind the classroom by herself.
As she clicked down the short, left-hand, third floor corridor, she sawjust ahead of her a little blue-clad figure passing through the verydoorway for which she was making. An instant and she too had entered theroom. She stared about her, then walked to a seat directly opposite tothe one now occupied by the girl that looked like Mary. For a briefmoment the girl eyed Marjorie indifferently, then something in thescrutiny of the other girl evidently annoyed her. She drew her straightdark brows together in a displeased frown, and deliberately turned herface away.
By this time perhaps a dozen girls had entered, and, as the clang of thethird bell echoed through the school, an alert little man with a thin,sensitive face and timid brown eyes, bustled into the room and carefullyclosed the door. Hardly had he taken his hand from the knob when thedoor was flung open, this time to admit a sharp-featured girl withbright, dark eyes and a cruel, thin-lipped mouth. Smiling maliciously,she swung the door shut with an echoing bang. The meek little professorlooked reproachfully at the offender, who did not even appear to seehim.
"The Evil Genius," recognized Marjorie. Her eyes strayed furtivelytoward the Mary girl, who had not paid the slightest attention to thislate arrival. "What a hateful person that black-eyed girl is," ran onMarjorie's thoughts. "I know it was she who made that nice girl cry theother day. I wish she wasn't quite so distant. The nice girl, I mean.Oh, dear. I forgot to go up to the professor's desk and register. That'shis fault. He came in late. He'll see me in a minute and ask who I am."
To her extreme surprise, the little man paid no particular attention toher, but, opening his grammar, began the giving out of the next day'slesson. This he explained volubly and with many gestures. Marjorie'slips curved into a half smile as she compared this rather noisyinstructor with Professor Rousseau, of Franklin. Later, when he calledupon his pupils to recite, however, he was a different being. Hispolitely sarcastic arraignment of those who floundered through thelessons, accompanied by certain ominous marks he placed after theirnames in a fat black book that lay on his desk, plainly showed that,despite his mild appearance, he was a force yet to be reckoned with.
"I hope he doesn't notice me until class is over," fidgeted Marjorie."It surely must be time for that bell to ring." She began nervously tocount those who were due to recite before her turn came. It would be soembarrassing to do her explaining before this group of strange girls,particularly before the Evil Genius. Ah, she had begun to read! And howbeautifully she read French! The critical professor was listening to thesmooth flow of words that tripped from her tongue with approbationwritten on every feature. "She must have studied French before,"speculated Marjorie, as the professor directed the next girl to go onwith the exercise; "or else she is French. I believe she is. Oh, dear,only two more girls."
Clang! sounded the bell.
"Thank goodness," breathed the relieved freshman.
There was a general closing of books. "To-morrow I shall geev you awreetten test," warned Professor Fontaine. Then the second bell rang,and the class filed out of the room.
"Eet ees not strange that I haf overlooked you, Mademoiselle," explainedProfessor Fontaine five minutes later, after listening to Marjorie'sapology for not presenting herself to him before class. "The freshmenlike to make so many alterations in their programs. They haf soch goodexcuses for changeeng classes, but, sometimes, too, they do not tellme. Eet maks exasperation." He waved his hands comprehensively. "I ampleased," he added, with true French courtesy, "to haf another pupil.Ees eet that you like the French, Mademoiselle Dean?"
"It is a beautiful language, Professor Fontaine," Marjorie assured him."I have only begun learning it, but I like it so much."
"C'est vrai," murmured the delighted professor. "La Francais est unebelle langue. If, then, you like it, you weel study your lessons, n'estpas?"
"I'll try very hard to make good recitations. I will bring my booksto-morrow. We used the same grammar at Franklin High School."
Marjorie hastened back to the study hall to find it empty. The clock onthe north wall pointed significant hands to ten minutes past twelve. ThePicture Girl had said that she wished Marjorie to meet her friends, butshe was not waiting. It was disappointing, but her own fault, thoughtthe lonely freshman as she left the study hall and went slowlydownstairs to the locker room. She gave an impatient sigh as she pinnedon her hat. Exploring new territory wasn't half so interesting as shecould wish. Then a light footstep sounded at her side. A dignifiedlittle voice said, stiffly, "Will you please allow me to get my hat?"
Marjorie whirled about in amazement. Could she believe her eyes? Thevoice belonged to the Mary girl; they were to share the same locker.
Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman Page 5
