CHAPTER X
A RUMOR
After Christmas there were goodies from home to eat and Christmas-giftsto arrange in their new quarters. Betty's piece de resistance was agorgeous leather sofa pillow stamped with the head of a ferocious Indianchief. Eleanor had a great brass bowl, which in some mysterious fashionwas kept constantly full of fresh roses, a shelf full of new books, andmore dresses than her closet would hold. Katherine had a chafing-dish,Rachel a Persian rug, and Roberta an illustrated "Alice in Wonderland"of her own. To Betty's great relief Helen had brought back two smallpillows for her couch, all her skirts were lengthened, and the Christmasstock of black silk with its white linen turnovers replaced the clumsywoolen collars that she had worn with her winter shirt-waists. And--shewas certainly learning to do her hair more becomingly. There wasn't avery marked improvement to be sure, but if Betty could have watchedHelen's patient efforts to turn her vacation to account in the matter ofhair-dressing, she would have realized how much the little changesmeant, and would have been more hopeful about her pupil's progress. Notuntil the end of her junior year did Helen Adams reach the point whereshe could be sure that one's personal appearance is quite as important amatter as one's knowledge of calculus or Kantian philosophies; but,thanks largely to Betty, she was beginning to want to look her best, andthat was the first step toward the things that she coveted. The next,and one for which Betty, with her open-hearted, free-and-easy fashion offacing life, was not likely to see the need, must be to break down thebarriers that Helen's sensitive shyness had erected between herself andthe world around her. The self-confidence that Caroline Barnes hadcruelly, if unintentionally wounded, must be restored before Helen couldfind the place she longed for in the little college world.
No one had had any very exciting vacation adventures except Rachel, whowas delayed on her way home by a freight wreck and obliged to spendChristmas eve on a windswept siding with only a ham sandwich between herand starvation, and Eleanor, whose vacation had been one mad whirl ofmetropolitan gaiety. Her young aunt, who sympathized with her niece'sdistaste for college life, and couldn't imagine why on earth JudgeWatson had insisted upon his only daughter's trying it for a year atleast, did her utmost to make Eleanor enjoy her visit. So she had dinedat the Waldorf, sat in a box at the theatre and the opera, danced andshopped to her heart's content, and had seen all the sights of New York.And at all the festivities Paul West, a friend of the family and also ofEleanor's, was present as Eleanor's special escort and avowed admirer.Naturally she had come back in an ill humor. Between late hours andexcitement she was completely worn out. She wanted to be in New York,and failing that she wanted Paul West to come and talk New York to her,and bring her roses for the big brass bowl that she had found in a dingylittle shop in the Russian quarter. She threw her good resolutions tothe winds, received Miss Hale's thanks for the violets very coldly, andbegged Betty to forget the sentimental letter that she had writtenbefore Christmas.
"But I thought it was a nice letter," said Betty. "Eleanor, why won'tyou give yourself a chance? Go and see Ethel this afternoon, and--andthen set to work to show her what you said you would," she ended lamely.
Eleanor only laughed. "Sorry, Betty, but I'm going to Winsted thisafternoon. Paul has taken pity on me; there's a sleighing party. Ithought perhaps you were invited too."
"No, but I'm going skating with Mary and Katherine," said Bettycheerfully, "and then at four Rachel and I are going to do Latin."
"Oh, Latin," said Eleanor significantly. "Let me think. Is it two orthree weeks to mid-years?"
"Two, just."
"Well, I suppose I shall have to do a little something then myself,"said Eleanor, "but I shan't bother yet awhile. Here comes the sleigh,"she added, looking out of the window. "Paul's driving, and your Mr.Parsons has asked Georgie Arnold. What do you think of that?"
"I should certainly hope he wouldn't ask the same girl to everything, ifthat's what you mean," said Betty calmly, helping Eleanor into her newcoat.
Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. "Good-bye," she said. "For my part, Iprefer to be the one and only--while I last," and snatching up her fursshe was off.
Betty found Mary and Katherine in possession of her room and engaged inan animated discussion about the rules of hockey.
"I tell you that when the thing-um-bob is in play," began Katherine.
"Not a bit of it," cut in Mary.
"Come along, girls," interrupted Betty, fishing her skates from underher couch, and pulling on her "pussy" mittens. "Never mind those rules.You can't play hockey to-day. You promised to skate with me."
It was an ideal winter's afternoon, clear, cold and still. The ice onParadise was smooth and hard, and the little pond was fairly alive withskaters, most of them Harding girls. Betty was a novice, with one weakankle that had an annoying habit of turning over suddenly and trippingher up; so she was timid about skating alone. But between Mary andKatherine she got on famously, and thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. Atfour Mary had a committee meeting, Katherine an engagement to playbasket-ball, and Betty had agreed to meet Rachel. So with greatreluctance they took off their skates and started up the steep path thatled past the boat-house to the back gate of the campus.
"Goodness, but I'm stiff," groaned Mary, stopping to rest a minute halfway up. "I'd have skated until dinner time though, if it hadn't been forthis bothering committee. Never be on committees, children."
"Why don't you apply your own rules?" inquired Katherine saucily.
"Oh, because I'm a vain peacock like the rest of the world. The classpresident comes to me and says, 'Now Mary, nobody but you knows everygirl in the class. You can find out the sentiments of all sorts andconditions on this matter. And then you have such fine executiveability. I know you hate committees, but----' Of course I feel pleasedby her base flattery, and I don't come to my senses until it's too lateto escape. Is to-day the sixteenth?"
"No, it's Saturday, the twentieth," said Katherine. "Two weeks nextMonday to mid-years."
"The twentieth!" repeated Mary in tones of alarm. "Then, my psychologypaper is due a week from Tuesday. I haven't done a thing to it, and Ishall be so busy next week that I can't touch it till Friday orSaturday. How time does fly!"
"Don't you even know what you're going to write on or anything thatyou're going to say?" asked Betty, who always wrote her papers as soonas they were assigned, to get them off her mind, and who longed to knowthe secret of waiting serenely until the eleventh hour.
"Why, I had a plan," answered Mary absently, "but I've waited so longthat I hardly know if I can use it."
Just then Alice Waite and her roommate came panting up the hill, andMary, who seldom took much exercise and was very tired, fell back to therear of the procession. But when the freshmen stopped in front of theHilton House she trilled and waved her hand to attract their attention.
"Oh. Betty, please take my skates home," she said as she limped up tothe group. Then she smiled what Roberta had named her "beamish" smile."I know what you girls are talking about," she said. "Will you give me asupper at Holmes's if I'm right?"
"Yes," said Katherine recklessly, "for you couldn't possibly guess. Whatwas it?"
"You're wondering about those fifty freshmen," answered Mary promptly.
"What freshmen?" demanded the four girls in a chorus, utterly ignoringthe lost wager.
"Why, those fifty who, according to a perfectly baseless rumor, aregoing to be sent home after mid-years."
"What do you mean?" gasped Betty.
"Hadn't you heard?" asked Mary soothingly. "Well, I'm sure it will beall over the college by this afternoon. Now understand, I don't believeit's true. If it were ten or even twenty it might be, but fifty--why,girls, it's preposterous!"
"But I don't understand you," said Miss Madison excitedly. She had grownvery pale and was hanging on to Katherine's arm. "Do you mean that thereis such a story--that fifty freshmen are to be sent home aftermid-years?"
"Yes," said Mary sadly, "there is, and that's what I meant. I'm s
orrythat I should have been the one to tell you, but you'd have heard itfrom some one else, I'm sure. A thing like that is always repeated so.Remember, I assure you I don't believe a word of it. Somebody probablystarted it on purpose to frighten you little freshmen. If you would takemy skates, Betty. I hate to lug them around till dinner time. Nowgood-bye, and do cheer up."
Left to themselves the four freshmen stared blankly at one another.Finally Katherine broke the mournful silence.
"Girls," she said solemnly, "it's utter foolishness to worry about thisreport. Mary didn't believe it herself, and why should we?"
"She's not a freshman," suggested Alice gloomily.
"There are almost four hundred freshmen. Perhaps the fifty wouldn't beany of us," put in Betty.
Miss Madison maintained a despairing silence.
"Well," said Katherine at last, "if it is true there's nothing to bedone about it now, I suppose; and if it isn't true, why it isn't; so Ithink I'll go to basket-ball," and she detached Miss Madison and startedoff.
Betty gave a prolonged sigh. "I must go too," she said. "I've promisedto study Latin. I presume it isn't any use, but I can't disappointRachel. I wish I was a fine student like Rachel. She won't be one of thefifty."
Alice, who had been in a brown study, emerged, just as Betty turnedaway.
"Wait a minute," she commanded. "Of course it's awfully queer up here,but still, if they have exams. I don't see the use of cooking it all upbeforehand. I mean I don't see the use of exams. if it is all decided."
Her two friends brightened perceptibly.
"That's a good idea," declared Betty. "Every one says the mid-years areso important. Let's do our best from now on, and perhaps the facultywill change their minds."
As she walked home, Betty thought of Eleanor. "She'll be dreadfullyworried. I shan't tell her a word about it," she resolved. Then sheremembered Mary Brooks's remark. Yes, no doubt some one else wouldenlighten Eleanor. It was just too bad. But perhaps Mary was right andthe story was only a story.
It is hard for freshmen on the eve of their mid-year examinations to beperfectly calm and philosophical. The story of the fifty unfortunatesran like wild-fire through the college, and while upper-class girlssniffed at it as absurd and even freshmen, particularly the clever ones,pooh-poohed it in public, it was the cause of many anxious, and sometearful moments. Betty, after her first fright, had accepted thesituation with her usual cheerfulness, and so had Alice and Rachel, whocould not help knowing that her work was of exceptionally high grade,while Helen irritated her house-mates by affecting an anxiety which, asKatherine put it, "No dig, who gets 'good' on all her written work, canpossibly feel." Katherine was worried about her mathematics, in whichshe had been warned before Thanksgiving, but she confided to Betty thatshe had counted them up, and without being a bit conceited she reallythought there were fifty stupider girls in the class of 19--. Robertaand the Riches, however, were utterly miserable, and Eleanor wrote toPaul West that she was busy--she had written "ill" first, and then tornup the note--and indulged in another frantic fit of industry, even moreviolent than its predecessors had been.
"But I thought you wanted to go home," said Betty curiously oneafternoon when Eleanor had come in to borrow a lexicon. "You say youhate it here, and you hate to study. So why do you take so much troubleabout staying?"
Eleanor straightened proudly. "Haven't you observed yet that I have abad case of the Watson pride?" she asked. "Do you think I'd ever show myface again if I failed?"
"Then why----" began Betty.
"Oh, that's the unutterable laziness that I get from my--from the otherside of the house," interrupted Eleanor. "It's an uncomfortablecombination, I assure you," and taking the book she had come for, sheabruptly departed.
Betty realized suddenly that in all the year Eleanor had never oncespoken of her mother.
After that she couldn't help being sorry for Eleanor, but she pitiedMiss Madison more. Miss Madison was dull at books and she knew it, andhad actually made herself ill with work and worry. Going to see herHilton House friends on the Friday afternoon after the skating party,Betty found Miss Madison alone and undisguisedly crying.
"I know I'm foolish," she apologized. "Most people just laugh at thatstory, but I notice they study harder since they heard it. And I'm sucha stupid."
Betty, who hated tears, had a sudden inspiration. "Why don't you askabout it at the registrar's office?" she suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't," wailed Miss Madison.
"Then I shall," returned Betty. "That is, I shall ask one of thefaculty."
"Would you dare?"
"Yes, indeed. They're human, like other people," said Betty, quotingNan. "I don't see why some one didn't think of it sooner."
That night at dinner Betty announced her plan. The freshmen lookedrelieved and Mary Brooks showed uncalled-for enthusiasm.
"Do go," she urged. "It's high time such an absurd story was shown up atits real value. It's absurd. The way we talk and talk about a reportlike that, and never dare to ask the faculty if it's true."
"Do you take any freshman courses?" inquired Eleanor sarcastically.
Mary smiled her "beamish" smile. "No," she said, "but I'm an interestedparty nevertheless--quite as much so as any of the famous fifty."
"Whom shall you ask, Betty?" pursued Katherine, ignoring the digression.
"Miss Mansfield. I have her the first hour, and besides, since she'sbeen engaged she's so nice and sympathetic."
Next day the geometry class dragged unmercifully for three persons.Eleanor beat a nervous tattoo on the seat-arm, Miss Madison staredfixedly at the clock, and Betty blushed and twisted and wished she couldhave seen Miss Mansfield before class. The delayed interview wasbeginning to seem very formidable. But it wasn't, after the firstplunge.
"What an absurd story!" laughed Miss Mansfield. "Not a word of truth init, of course. Why I don't believe the girl who started it thought itwas true. How long has it been in circulation?"
Betty counted the days. "I didn't really believe it," she added shyly.
"But you worried," said Miss Mansfield, smiling down at her. "Next timedon't be taken in one little bit,--or else come to headquarters sooner."
Eleanor and Miss Madison were waiting outside the door when Betty dashedat them with a little squeal of ecstasy. There was a moment of rapturouscongratulation; then Miss Madison picked up the note-book she haddropped and held out her hand solemnly to Betty.
"You've--why I think you've saved my life," she said, "and now I must goto my next class."
"You're a little hero," added Eleanor, catching Betty's arm and rushingher off to a recitation in Science Hall.
Roberta received the joyful news more calmly. "We may any of us flunkour mid-years yet," she said.
"But we can study for them in peace and comfort," said Adelaide Rich.
Mary Brooks asked endless questions at luncheon. Did the girls allaccept Miss Mansfield's denial as authoritative? Did it travel as fastas the original story had done? How did people think the rumor hadstarted?
"Why, nobody mentioned that," said Rachel in surprise. "How odd that weshouldn't have wondered!"
"Shows your sheep-like natures," said Mary, rising abruptly. "Well, nowI can finish my psychology paper."
"Haven't you worked on it any?" inquired Betty.
"Oh, yes, I made an outline and developed some topics last night. But Icouldn't finish until to-day. I was so worried about you children."
Toward the end of the next week Rachel came in to dinner late and inhigh spirits. "I've had such a fine walk!" she exclaimed. "Hester Gulickand I went to the bridge, and on the way back we overtook a senior namedJanet Andrews. She is such fun. She'd walked down-town with ProfessorHinsdale. He teaches psychology, doesn't he? They seem to be very goodfriends, and he told her such a funny thing about the fifty-freshmenstory. How do you suppose it started?"
"Oh, please tell us," cried everybody at once.
"Why, an awfully clever girl in his sophomore class sta
rted it as anexperiment, to see how it would take. She told it to some freshmen,saying explicitly that it wasn't true, and they told their friends, andso it went all over the college until last Saturday Betty got MissMansfield to deny it. But no one knew how it started until yesterdaywhen Professor Hinsdale looked over a paper in which the girl hadwritten it all up, as a study in the way rumors spread and grow. Thisone was so big to begin with that it couldn't grow much, though itseems, according to the paper, that some people had added to it thathalf the freshmen would be conditioned in math."
"How awfully funny!" gurgled Betty. Then she jumped almost out of herchair. "Why, Mary Brooks!" she said.
Everybody looked at Mary, who blushed guiltily and remarked with greatdignity that Professor Hinsdale was an old telltale. But when she hadassured herself that the freshmen, with the possible exception ofEleanor, were disposed to regard the psychological experiment which hadvictimized them with perfect good-nature, and herself with considerableadmiration, she condescended to accept congratulations and answerquestions.
"Seriously, girls," she said at last, "I hope no one got really scared.I wanted to explain when I heard Betty tell how unhappy Miss Madisonwas, but I really thought Miss Mansfield's denial would cheer her upmore and reach her almost as quickly, and at the same time it would helpme out so beautifully. It made such a grand conclusion!
"You see," she went on, "Professor Hinsdale put the idea into my headwhen he assigned the subjects away back last month. He said he wasgiving them out early so we would have time to make originalobservations. When he mentioned 'Rumor,' he spoke of village gossip, andthe faked stories that are circulated on Wall Street to make stocks goup or down, and then of the wild way we girls take up absurd reports.The last suggestion appealed to me, but I couldn't remember anythingdefinite enough, so I decided to invent a rumor. Then I forgot all aboutit till that Saturday that I went skating, and 'you know the rest,' asour friend Mr. Longfellow aptly remarks. When I get my chef-d'oeuvreback you may have a private view, in return for which I hope you'llencourage your friends not to hate me."
"Isn't she fun?" said Betty a little later, when she and Helen werealone together. "Do you know, I think this rumor business has been agood thing. It's made a lot of us work hard, and only seriouslyfrightened three or four."
"Yes," said Helen primly. "I think so too. The girls here are inclinedto be very frivolous."
"Who?" demanded Betty.
Helen hesitated. "Oh, the girls as a whole."
"That doesn't count," objected Betty. "Give me a name."
"Well, Barbara Gordon."
"Takes sixteen hours, has her themes read in Mary's class, and in herspare moments paints water colors that are exhibited in Boston," saidBetty promptly.
"Really?" gasped Helen.
"Really," repeated Betty. "Of course she was very well prepared, and soher work here seems easy to her. Next year I hope that you and I won'thave to plod along so."
Helen said nothing, but she was deeply grateful to Betty for that lastsentence. "You and I"--as if there was something in common between them.The other girls set her apart in a class by herself and labeled her"dig." If one was born slow and conscientious and plodding, was thereany hope for one,--any place among these pretty girls who worked soeasily and idled so gracefully? Helen shut her lips firmly and resolvedto keep on hunting.
Betty Wales, Freshman Page 10
