The Girl from the Big Horn Country

by Mary Ellen Chase

  CHAPTER XI

  THE DISCIPLINING OF MISS VAN RENSAELAR

  "On, of course, Dorothy, do as you like! If you'd rather play tenniswith the Wyoming Novelty than go down to the village with me, goahead. Don't think for a moment that I care!"

  Imogene leaned idly back among the pillows, while Dorothy studied therug with a flushed face.

  "You know it isn't that I'd rather, Imogene; but Virginia and I madean agreement that I'd teach her some tennis serves, and she'd teach meto ride. She's given me two lessons already, and now that the indoorcourts are fixed I thought we'd play this afternoon, that's all."

  "Go and play then. Don't mind me. I'm comfortable!"

  Dorothy was silent for a moment. "I don't see why you dislike Virginiaso, Imogene," she said at last.

  "Dislike her? I don't dislike her, or like her either for that matter.I don't care one way or the other. My friends have never been broughtup in the backwoods, and don't weep over dead cow-boys; but, ofcourse, you're at liberty to choose yours wherever you like."

  The sarcasm in Imogene's tone was biting. Dorothy struggled with astrong desire to defend Virginia, and another as strong to keep inImogene's favor. Completely ashamed of herself, she said nothing, andImogene mercifully changed the subject.

  "Has our Dutch aristocrat returned your penknife?"

  "Not yet. How about your hammer?"

  "I haven't seen it since she borrowed it, and I've ruined my nail-filetrying to open the box of cake mother sent. She has her nerve! I foundthis on my desk this afternoon."

  She showed Dorothy a slip of paper on which was written in a heavyblack hand:

  "Have borrowed your ink for the afternoon.

  "K. van R."

  "You don't mean to say she came in when there was no one here, andjust took it!" gasped Dorothy.

  "Oh, Vivian was here, I guess, but Viv hasn't the nerve of a rabbit.If Her Highness had chosen to take the room, Viv would have gonealong. But I'm going to do something very soon. I'm sick of this!"

  An imperious knock sounded on the door, and without waiting to bebidden, the knocker entered. It was Miss Van Rensaelar herself, who,late in coming to St. Helen's, had arrived two weeks before. She wasdressed in dark blue velvet with ermine furs, and looked undeniablyhandsome, with her blue eyes and faultless complexion. In onewhite-gloved hand she gingerly held an ink-bottle, which she extended.

  "Here is your ink," she announced somewhat haughtily. "I'm sure I'mobliged. I forgot the hammer, but you can get it from my room if youneed it. I go to the city for dinner. Good-by."

  Imogene did not rise. "Good-by," she said in a tone which quitematched Miss Van Rensaelar's. "You might have the goodness to placethe ink on my desk. It belongs there."

  "Indeed!" Miss Van Rensaelar sniffed the air, but crossed the roomwith the ink-bottle, which she deposited upon the desk. Then shecrossed again, her head a trifle higher if possible, and went out thedoor, which she left wide open.

  Imogene was furious. She rose from the couch to give vent to herfeelings by slamming the door, but encountered Priscilla and Virginiajust about to enter. Had she not wished to share her rage, she mightnot have been so gracious.

  "Come in," she said, "and hear the latest!"

  "What's she done now?" Priscilla whispered. "We met her in the hall,but she didn't deign to speak. Is she going to town to dine with theHolland ambassador, or what?"

  "I don't know or care whom she's going to see," stormed Imogene, "butI know one thing! I'm not going to stand this sort of thing anylonger. Borrowing everything is bad enough; but when it comes tolording it over the whole house, it's time to do something! Besides,she's a Freshman!"

  "She isn't exactly a Freshman," said Virginia, not noting Imogene'sdispleasure. "Miss Wallace says she's been to several girls' schoolson the Hudson already, but she doesn't stay. She's sort of a special,I guess. She's nearly eighteen, you know."

  "I wasn't favored with a knowledge of her age," Imogene continuedfrigidly. "But I repeat, it's time to do something!"

  "But what can we do?" asked Priscilla. "Of course we can refuse tolend our things, but that--"

  "That isn't what I mean. I mean we ought to show her that she isn'teverything in The Hermitage, or in all St. Helen's. She thinks she is!But she isn't! In college she'd be made to black boots, or runerrands. I have a friend at Harvard and he told me all about thethings they make fresh Freshmen do."

  The thought of the haughty, velvet-clad Miss Van Rensaelar blackingboots was too much for Virginia and she laughed, thereby increasingImogene's displeasure. Vivian arrived just at this point of theconversation, falling over the rug as she entered, which awkwardproceeding greatly disturbed her room-mate.

  "For mercy's sake, Viv, save the furniture, and do close the door!This isn't open house!"

  Poor Vivian, a little uncertain as to whether or not she was welcome,straightened the rug and closed the door. Then she sat besideVirginia, who had made room for her on the couch.

  "We might ask Mary. Maybe she'd have an idea," Priscilla suggested alittle timidly, but Imogene did not receive the suggestion verykindly.

  "Oh, I'm sick of this monitor business! Don't say a word to Mary.Whatever is done can be done without her first assistance. I'm goingto think of something before I go to bed to-night."

  "She makes me think of Dick when he first came to the ranch," saidVirginia. "He acted as though he were better than the other men, andknew a lot more, though he was only eighteen. He used to like to dressup and go to town at night, as though he were above them all. The mengrew tired of his overbearing ways, and Jim and Alex decided he neededsome discipline. So, one night when he had gone to town in his bestclothes, they placed a big bucket of water over the bunk-house door,and arranged it so that when any one opened the door from the outsideit would fall and drench him. Dick came home about midnight; and themen all lay in bed, waiting for him to open the door. He opened it,and down came all the water. Jim told father the next day that Dickjust stood there wet through, and never said a word. But heunderstood, and after that he wasn't snobbish any more, but just oneof the men, and they liked him a great deal better. I know I thought'twas mean when Jim told father, but father said it was just what Dickneeded to help make a man of him."

  They had all listened to Virginia's story. Somehow they always didlisten when Virginia told a story for it was sure to be interesting.Imogene, though she stared out of the window while Virginia told it,was really listening most attentively of all; for, as Virginia talked,into her scheming mind flashed an idea, by the carrying out of whichshe might attain a two-fold purpose--namely, the desired discipliningof Miss Van Rensaelar, and the revenging of certain wrongs for whichshe held Virginia responsible.

  Imogene did dislike Virginia, for no other reasons in the world thanthat the other girls liked her, and that their friendliness gaveVirginia prominence at St. Helen's. Virginia did not seek popularityor influence, therefore she had both; but Imogene for two years hadsought for both, and moreover had used every means to attain them.This year she saw her popularity waning. Even Dorothy did not seem tocare so much for her. Instead she liked Virginia--a bitter pill forImogene to swallow. As for influence, Imogene Meredith did possess astrong influence over her associates, but its strength did not lie inits goodness. Moreover, Imogene remembered a certain talk with MissWallace on the occasion of Virginia's trouble with Miss Green; and thememory of that talk still rankled bitterly. She _would_ get even withVirginia, and show St. Helen's that this Wyoming girl was not such awonder after all. So as Virginia told her story and the otherslistened, Imogene smiled to herself and planned her revenge, Miss VanRensaelar for the moment almost forgotten.

  "Aren't you going to play tennis, Dorothy?" Virginia asked as shefinished.

  Dorothy hesitated. "Can't we play to-morrow, Virginia?" she asked,embarrassed. "I promised Imogene I'd walk to the village with her."

  "Of course. It doesn't matter. Come on, Vivian. Priscilla and you andI'll pla
y; and if Lucile doesn't want to make a fourth, we'll get BessShepard from Overlook. She said this morning that she'd like to play."

  So while the others crossed the campus toward the gymnasium, Imogeneand Dorothy started for Hillcrest, and upon arriving went to the"Forget-me-not," while the sallow-faced youth before mentioned servedthem hot chocolate, and lingered unnecessarily in Imogene'sneighborhood. On the way home, peace having been restored betweenthem, Imogene divulged her secret plan to Dorothy, or at least thehalf of it which she cared to divulge,--namely that upon their arrivalhome while every one was preparing for dinner, a pail of water besuspended over Miss Van Rensaelar's door, so that upon her return shemight be surprised into a more docile manner toward her housemates.

  Dorothy giggled at the picture of the soaked Katrina, but obstaclespresented themselves to her mind.

  "It will be funny, but I think you'll get the worst of it instead ofKatrina."

  "How, I'd like to know?"

  "Well, you're sure to be found out, because you can't fib about it,and there's so few of us in The Hermitage that all of us will beasked. Then, besides, it's funny, but I'm not so sure it's a joke. Ithink it's sort of mean." Dorothy said the last somewhat hesitatingly,noting the expression coming over Imogene's face.

  "Don't be such a wet-blanket, Dot! Besides, I don't see how you're sosure I'll be found out. You certainly won't tell, and Viv won't dareto; and you know how St. Helen's feels about telling tales anyway.Besides, it's not my plan. You know who suggested it just thisafternoon." And into Imogene's eyes crept a crafty expression, whichtold Dorothy more than her words.

  "Oh, Imogene!" she cried, really indignant. "You know that isn't true!Virginia didn't propose it at all! She was just telling a story! Youdon't mean you'd do it yourself, and then lay the blame on Virginia!"

  Imogene saw that she had made a mistake.

  "Who's talking about blaming anybody? I guess I'm willing to take theblame for my own actions. Don't get so excited! I didn't exactly meanshe proposed it. I just meant that I'd never have thought of such agood plan if it hadn't been for her."

  Dorothy was not convinced. She never felt quite sure of Imogene,though she couldn't seem to help being fascinated by her.

  "You see," she said hesitatingly, "if you had meant that Virginiasuggested it, I'd think--"

  "Well, think what?"

  "I'd think that--? that maybe you laughed on purpose that nightdown-stairs."

  Imogene shrugged her shoulders, and looked, for her, ratheruncomfortable.

  "Isn't any one allowed to laugh, if anything strikes her funny? You'resuspicious, Dorothy!"

  But quarreling would not do if Dorothy's help were to be relied upon.Besides, the subject was distasteful, not to say dangerous. Imogenechanged it hurriedly, and, by the time they reached The Hermitage, theplan had once more assumed at least an honest aspect, and Dorothy wasonce more laughing at the thought of the drenched Katrina.

  Meanwhile Miss Van Rensaelar was being entertained in the city, andregaling her friends with tales of the hopelessness of St. Helen's ingeneral, and The Hermitage in particular. Such regulations as tohours! Such babyish girls! No style! No callers! No amusements, excepttennis and basketball, and riding on impossible horses!

  The truth was the trouble lay in Katrina Van Rensaelar, and not in St.Helen's. Katrina, "on account of having been detained by illness at aLong Island house-party," had not arrived at St. Helen's until afterThanksgiving. She was too late to enter any of the regular classes,and had been ranked as a "Special." The term really suited Katrina,for she was a special type of girl to which St. Helen's had not oftenbeen accustomed. She had too little desire for study and too muchmoney--too little friendliness and too many ancestors.

  Now, the possession of too many ancestors is difficult property tohandle, especially in boarding-school, unless you are very expert inconcealing your ownership. Katrina was not expert. On the contrary,disdaining concealment, she openly avowed her ownership, and on thefew occasions in which she had been known to engage in conversation,had announced that she was of the only original Dutch patroon stock ofNew York. There were girls at St. Helen's who were every bit assnobbish as Katrina with perhaps less to be snobbish about--Imogene wasone--but somehow they had learned that if one wished to be popular, sheconcealed as far as possible her personal prejudices toward family andfortune.

  Katrina, glad to be away from St. Helen's and to see some "life," asshe termed it, accepted with thanks an invitation to remain over nightin the city. Her friends telegraphed her intention to Miss King,promising to bring her in by machine early in the morning. Miss Greenand Miss Wallace were accordingly informed of the fact that she wouldnot return, but, as such irregularities were not encouraged, saidnothing of her absence to the girls.

  That night Vivian was a trifle late for supper, for truth to tell ithad been Vivian whom Imogene had delegated to creep up-stairs with thewater-filled pail, and hang it on a nail already provided above thedoor.

  "You're lighter on your feet than I am, Viv," she had explained, "andno one will hear you. Just because you hang it there doesn't mean thatyou're to blame at all. And remember, if to-night Miss Green questionsyou, you're to say, 'That's the way they discipline snobbish cow-boysin Wyoming.'"

  Poor, short-sighted little Vivian, glad to be again in the favor ofher adored Imogene, obediently hung the pail upon the nail, anddescended to the dining-room, looking embarrassed as she took herseat. Miss Wallace's keen eyes noted the embarrassment, and caughtalso a shade of disapproval cross Imogene's face.

  "You must have washed in a hurry, Vivian," whispered the unconsciousVirginia, who sat next her. "There are drops all over your collar."

  Vivian, more embarrassed than ever, raised her napkin to wipe thedrops. Supper proceeded, but Miss Wallace had her clew.

  All through study-hours, while the others worked, unconscious of anyexcitement, Dorothy, Imogene, and Vivian waited with bated breath forthe return of Miss Van Rensaelar. But she did not come. At nine-thirtyshe had not returned, and there was nothing to do but go to bed andlie awake listening. The clock struck ten, and stealthy steps wereheard in the corridor. Could that be Katrina returning? No, for shewould never soften her tread for fear of disturbing the sleepers. Whocould it be? Whoever it was was going up the stairs, for they creakeda little. The girls held their breaths for one long moment. Then--afrightful splash, followed immediately by a crash and an unearthlyshriek, rent The Hermitage. Those awake and those who had beensleeping rushed into the hall, in which the light was still burning.Down the-stairs came a person in a gray flannel wrapper, which clungin wet folds about her shivering figure, and from every fold of whichran rivulets of water. The person's scant locks were plastered to herhead, save in front, where from every curl-paper dripped drops as froman icicle. It was Miss Green! Frightened, furious, forbidding MissGreen!

  Simultaneously the girls laughed--innocent and guilty alike. No onecould have helped it--at least not they, who were, for the most part,completely surprised. And Miss Green, it must be admitted, wasexcruciatingly funny. She stood in the middle of the hall, dripped andglared. When she could command her trembling voice:

  "Mary Williams, you are a Senior monitor, and do you laugh at suchoutrageous conduct?"

  "I--I beg your pardon, Miss Green," stammered Mary. "I really couldn'thelp it. I'm sorry."

  "Will you explain this occurrence?"

  "I really can't, Miss Green. I don't know anything about it."

  At this juncture, hurried steps were heard on the stairs, and MissWallace mercifully appeared. When she saw Miss Green, her own lipsquivered, but she restrained them. The shivering Miss Green explainedthe situation in a voice quivering with cold and anger. Then, as ifher own conduct needed explanation:

  "I went up-stairs merely to--to see if the windows were lowered, andthis is what I received. Let us probe this disgusting matter to thebottom, Miss Wallace."

  "I think you should first get into dry things," Miss Wallace suggestedgently. "Then we will
talk matters over. Girls, please go to yourrooms."

  The girls obeyed.

  "One moment, please," Miss Green called imperiously. "Vivian, you werelate at supper. Can you explain this matter. Answer me, can you?"

  Poor frightened Vivian tried to look into Miss Green's glaring eyes,but failed miserably. She stammered, hesitated, was silent.

  "Answer me, Vivian. What sort of a method of procedure is this?"

  "Please--please, Miss Green, it's--it's--"

  "Well, it's what?"

  "It's the way they discipline sn-snobbish c-cow-boys in Wyoming."

  Utter silence reigned for a few long seconds. Miss Green stared ateach of the mystified girls, until her eye fell upon Virginia, mostmystified of all.

  "For the present, Virginia," she said in measured tones, each onedistinct, "I will inform you that methods which are in vogue upon aWyoming ranch are not suitable in a young ladies' boarding-school. Iwill see you later."

  She turned to go with Miss Wallace, still dripping, still glaring.Miss Wallace's face had become stern.

  "Go to your rooms, girls. There will be no talking to-night. Pleaseremember, Mary."

  "Yes, Miss Wallace," promised the Senior monitor.

  But the mystified Virginia and her wholly indignant room-mate couldnot resist some whispers.

  "It's Imogene," whispered Priscilla, on Virginia's bed. "She madeVivian do it; and now she means to put the blame on you, just becauseyou told that story about Dick."

  "Oh, she couldn't be so mean, Priscilla!"

  "Yes, she could. She's just that kind. And if Miss Green blames you,I'm going to tell. I am!"

  This, and much more, went on in whispers in their room, and, for thatmatter, in every other. No one could sleep, and a half hour laterevery girl heard Miss Wallace's voice at Imogene's door.

  "Imogene, you are to come to my room at once. No, I don't wish you,Vivian. At once, please, Imogene."

  It was fully an hour later when they heard Imogene reenter her room,but no one ventured either that night or in the morning to ask anyquestions. As for Virginia, she was summoned to no interview, andsuffered no unjust reprimand, save Miss Green's piercing words, whichshe wrote, with a half-smile, in the chapter, "Pertaining Especiallyto Decorum":

  "I will inform you that methods in vogue upon a Wyoming ranch are notsuitable in a young ladies' boarding-school."

  Miss Van Rensaelar, who returned the next morning, never knew whatdeluge she escaped. Imogene's manner forbade any interferences, butapparently Vivian's life with her room-mate for the next few days wasanything but a happy one. Secret discussions were held in TheHermitage, and likewise in the other cottages, for the news hadspread; but Imogene and Vivian never attended, and Dorothy, ifpresent, was silent and strangely embarrassed.

  A week later when the newness of the affair had passed away, and whenother topics occasionally came up for conversation, some newsannounced by Miss Green to her classes swept through St. Helen's likewild-fire. In recognition of years of faithful service, St. Helen'shad presented Miss Green with a fund, with the request that she go toAthens for two years' study at the Classical School.

  "Another vocation thrust upon her! Horrors! What will she do?"exclaimed Dorothy, at a meeting held in The Hermitage to discuss thisunexpected, and, I am forced to say, welcome piece of information.

  "Three cheers for St. Helen's!" cried one Blackmore twin.

  "And groans for Athens!" cried the other.

  So just before Christmas, Miss Green departed for Athens; and at thesame time, Katrina Van Rensaelar, deciding to seek educationelsewhere, left for a place in which her ancestors would be moreappreciated.

  "And to be perfectly frank, daddy dear," wrote Virginia, "it's awelcome exodus!"