Betty Wales, Freshman

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  CHAPTER IV

  WHOSE PHOTOGRAPH?

  The dancing class went briskly on; so did the Livy class and thegeometry, the English 1, the French required and the history elective.The freshmen were getting acquainted with one another now, and seldomconfused their classmates with seniors or youthful members of thefaculty. They no longer attempted to go out of chapel ahead of theseniors, or invaded the president's house in their frantic search forScience Hall or the Art Gallery. For October was fast wearing away. Thehills about Harding showed flaming patches of scarlet, and it was timefor the sophomore reception and Mountain Day. Betty was very muchexcited about the reception, but she felt also that a load would slipoff her shoulders when it was over. She was anxious about the progressof the dancing pupils, who had increased to five, besides Helen andAdelaide, and for whom she felt a personal responsibility, because theChapin house girls persisted in calling the class hers. And what wouldfather say if they didn't get their money's worth? Then there wasHelen's dress for the reception, which she was sure was a fright, butcouldn't get up the courage to inquire about. And last and worst of allwas the mysterious grind-book and Dorothy King's warning about father'stelegram to the registrar. She had never mentioned the incident toanybody, but from certain annoying remarks that Mary Brooks let fall shewas sure that Mary knew all about it and that the sophomores wereplanning to make telling use of it.

  "How's your friend the registrar?" Mary would inquire solemnly every fewdays. And if Betty refused to answer she would say slyly, "Who met youat the station, did you tell me? Oh, only Dottie King?" until Bettyalmost decided to stop her by telling the whole story.

  Two days before the reception she took Rachel and Katherine into herconfidence about Helen's dress.

  "You see if I could only look at it, maybe I could show her how to fixit up," she explained, "but I'm afraid to ask. I'm pretty sure she'ssensitive about her looks and her clothes. I should want to be told if Iwas such a fright, but maybe she's happier without knowing."

  "She can't help knowing if she stays here long," said Rachel.

  "Why don't you get out your dress, and then perhaps she'll show hers,"suggested Katherine.

  "I could do that," assented Betty doubtfully. "I could find a place tomend, I guess. Chiffon tears so easily."

  "Good idea," said Rachel heartily. "Try that, and then if she doesn'tbite you'd better let things take their course. But it is too bad tohave her go looking like a frump, after all the trouble we've taken withher dancing."

  Betty went back to her room, sat down at her desk and began again at herLivy. "For I might as well finish this first," she thought; and it washalf an hour before she shut the scarlet-covered book with a slam andannounced somewhat ostentatiously that she had finished her Latinlesson.

  "And now I must mend my dress for the reception," she went onconsciously. "Mother is always cautioning me not to wait till the lastminute to fix things."

  "Did you look up all the constructions in the Livy?" asked Helen. Bettywas so annoyingly quick about everything.

  "No," returned Betty cheerfully from the closet, where she was rummagingfor her dress. "I shall guess at those. Why don't you try it? Oh, dear!This is dreadfully mussed," and she appeared in the closet door with afluffy white skirt over her arm.

  "How pretty!" exclaimed Helen, deserting her Livy to examine it. "Is itlong?"

  "Um-um," said Betty taking a pin out of her mouth and huntingfrantically for a microscopic rip. "Yes, it's long, and it has a train.My brother Will persuaded mother to let me have one. Wasn't he a brick?"

  "Yes," said Helen shortly, going back to her desk and opening her bookagain. Presently she hitched her chair around to face Betty. "Mine'sawfully short," she said.

  "Is it?" asked Betty politely.

  There was a pause. Then, "Would you care to see it?" asked Helen.

  Betty winked at the green lizard. "Yes indeed," she said cordially. "Whydon't you try it on to be sure it's all right? I'm going to put on minein just a minute."

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the dress. It was a simplewhite muslin. The sleeves were queer, the neck too high to be low andtoo low to be high, and the skirt ridiculously short. "But it might havebeen a lot worse," reflected Betty. "If she'll only fix it!"

  "Wait a minute," she said after she had duly admired it. "I'll put mineon, and we'll see how we both look dressed up."

  "You look like a regular princess out of a story-book," said Helensolemnly, when Betty turned to her for inspection.

  Betty laughed. "Oh, wait till to-morrow night," she said. "My hair's allmussed now. I wonder how you'd look with your hair low, Helen."

  Helen flushed and bit her lip. "I shan't look anyhow in this horridshort dress," she said.

  "Then why don't you make it longer, and lower in the neck?" inquiredBetty impatiently. Helen was as conscientiously slow about making up hermind as she was about learning her Livy. "It's hemmed, isn't it? Anyhowyou could piece it under the ruffle."

  "Do you suppose mamma would care?" said Helen dubiously. "Anyway I don'tbelieve I have time--only till to-morrow night."

  "Oh I'll show you how," Betty broke in eagerly. "And if your mothershould object you could put it back, you know. You begin ripping out thehem, and then we'll hang it."

  Helen Chase Adams proved to be a pains-taking and extremely slow sewer.Besides, she insisted on taking time off to learn her history andgeometry, instead of "risking" them as Betty did and urged her to do.The result was that Betty had to refuse Mary Brooks's invitation to"come down to the gym and dance the wax into that blooming floor" thenext afternoon, and was tired and cross by the time she had done Helen'shair low, hooked her into the transformed dress, and finished her owntoilette. She had never thought to ask the name of Helen's junior, andwas surprised and pleased when Dorothy King appeared at their door.Dorothy's amazement was undisguised.

  "You'll have to be costumer for our house plays next year, Miss Wales,"she said, while Betty blushed and contradicted all Helen's explanations."You're coming on the campus, of course."

  "So virtue isn't its only reward after all," said Eleanor Watson, whohad come in just in time to hear Miss King's remark. "Helen Chase Adamsisn't exactly a vision of loveliness yet. She won't be mistaken for thecollege beauty, but she's vastly improved. I only wish anybody cared totake as much trouble for me."

  "Oh, Eleanor!" said Betty reproachfully. "As if any one could improveyou!"

  Eleanor's evening dress was a pale yellow satin that brought out thebrown lights in her hair and eyes and the gleaming whiteness of hershoulders. There were violets in her hair, which was piled high on herhead, and more violets at her waist; and as she stood full in the light,smiling at Betty's earnestness, Betty was sure she had never seen anyone half so lovely.

  "But I wish you wouldn't be so sarcastic over Helen," she went onstoutly. "She can't help being such a freak."

  Eleanor yawned. "I was born sarcastic," she said. "I wish Lil Day wouldhurry. Did you happen to notice that I cut three classes straight thismorning?"

  "No," said Betty aghast. "Oh, Eleanor, how dare you when--" She stoppedsuddenly, remembering that Eleanor had asked her not to speak of theentrance conditions.

  "When I have so much to make up already, you mean," Eleanor went oncomplacently. "Oh, I shall manage somehow. Here they come."

  A few moments later the freshman and sophomore classes, with asprinkling of juniors to make the numbers even, were gathered _enmasse_ in the big gymnasium. All the afternoon loyal sophomores hadtoiled thither from the various campus houses, lugging palms, screens,portieres and pillows. Inside another contingent had arranged thesecontributions, festooned the running-track with red and green bunting,risked their lives to fasten Japanese lanterns to the cross-beams, anddisguised the apparatus against the walls with great branches of spruceand cedar, which still other merry, wind-blown damsels, driving along-suffering horse, had deposited at intervals near the back door. Byfive o'clock it was finished and everybody, having assured
everybodyelse that the gym never looked so well before, had gone home to dressfor the evening. Now the lights softened what Mary Brooks called the"hidjous" greens of the freshman bunting, a band played sweet musicbehind the palms, and pretty girls in pretty gowns sat in couples on thedivans that lined the walls, or waited in line to speak to the receivingparty. This consisted of Jean Eastman and the sophomore president, whostood in front of the fireplace, where a line of ropes intended to beused in gym practice had been looped back and made the best sort offoundation for a green canopy over their heads. Ten of the prettiestsophomores acted as ushers, and four popular and much envied seniorspresided at the frappe bowls in the four corners of the room.

  "There's not much excitement about a manless dance, but it's afascinating thing to watch," said Eleanor to her partner, as they stoodin the running-track looking down at the dancers.

  "I'm afraid you're blase, Miss Watson," returned the sophomore. "Onlyseniors are allowed to dislike girl dances."

  Eleanor laughed. "Well, I seem to be the only heretic present," shesaid. "They're certainly having a good time down there."

  They certainly were. The novelty of the occasion appealed to thefreshmen, and the more sophisticated sophomores were bound to make areputation as gallant beaux. So although only half the freshman coulddance at once and even then the floor was dreadfully crowded, and inspite of the fact that the only refreshment was the rather watery frappewhich gave out early in the evening, 190-'s reception to 190- was voteda great success.

  At nine o'clock the sophomore ushers began arranging the couples in along line leading to the grind table, and Betty knew that her hour hadcome. The orchestra played a march, and as the girls walked past thetable the sophomore officers presented each freshman with a smallbooklet bound in the freshman green, on the front cover of which, inletters of sophomore scarlet, was the cryptic legend: "Puzzle--name thegirl." This was explained, however, by the inside, where appeared asmall and rather cloudy blue-print, showing the back view of a girl inshirt-waist and short skirt, with a pile of books under her arm, and theinevitable "tam" on her head. On the opposite page was a facsimiletelegraph blank, filled out to the registrar,

  "Please meet my dear young daughter, who will arrive on Thursday by the6:15, and oblige,

  "Thomas ----."

  Everybody laughed, pushed her neighbors around for a back view, andasked the sophomores if the telegram had truly been sent, and if thiswas the real girl's picture. So no one noticed Betty's blushes exceptMary Brooks, upon whom she vowed eternal vengeance. For she rememberedhow one afternoon the week before, she and Mary had started from thehouse together, and Mary, who said she was taking her camera down-townfor a new film, had dropped behind on some pretext. Betty had been sureshe heard the camera click, but Mary had grinned and told her not to beso vain of her back.

  However, nobody recognized the picture. The few sophomores who knewanything about it were pledged to secrecy, as the grinds were neverallowed to become too personal, and the freshmen treated the telegram asan amusing myth. In a few minutes every one was dancing again, and onlytoo soon it was ten o'clock.

  "Wasn't it fun?" said Betty enthusiastically, as she and Helenundressed.

  "Oh yes," agreed Helen. "I never had such a good time in my life. But,do you know, Miss Watson says she was bored, and Roberta thought it wastiresome and the grind-book silly and impossible."

  "Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes," said Betty sagely,smothering a laugh in the pillows.

  She was asleep in five minutes, but Helen lay for a long while thinkingover the exciting events of the evening. How she had dreaded it! At homeshe hated dances and never went if she could help it, because she wassuch a wall-flower. She had been afraid it would be the same here, butit wasn't. What a lovely time she had had! She could dance so well now,and Miss King's friends were so nice, and college was such a beautifulplace, though it was so different from what she had expected.

  Across the hall Roberta had lighted her student lamp and was sitting upto write an appreciative and very clever account of the evening to hercousin, who was reporter on a Boston paper and had made her promise tosend him an occasional college item.

  And Eleanor, still in the yellow satin, sat at her desk scribblingaimlessly on a pad of paper or staring at a clean sheet, which began,"My dear father." She had meant to write him that she was tired ofcollege and wanted to come home at once; but somehow she couldn't begin.For she thought, "I can see him raise his eyebrows and smile and say,'so you want to throw up the sponge, do you? I was under the impressionthat you had promised to stay out the year,' as he did to the privatesecretary who wouldn't sit up with him till three in the morning towrite letters."

  Finally she tore up "My dear father," and went to bed in the dark.