CHAPTER XXVI
A SURPRISE IN RECORDS
Holidays, holidays! The air was full of them, and it seemed all the girls in Jane's group were to spend the big Christmas event away from Wellington.
Jane's letter from her father, that which suggested she bring "the little country girl" back to Montana with her for the holidays, seemed like an answer to her own secret wish. She wanted to bring Bobbie home with her, but very much preferred the invitation would come from headquarters. Jane, like Bobbie, did not wish to appear too ingratiating, also she did not want to make the girl feel she was in any way patronizing her.
The bulletin boards in all "dorms" bore the notice of special assembly in the study hall, and thither the students were now progressing.
"This is where we get all that is coming to us," said Bobbie more literally than elegantly. "I believe the idea is, we are to know before we leave, where we will be put when we come back." She was talking to Sally as they walked out from Lenox.
"Yes, and I wish, Bobbie, we might have escaped it. Think of hearing all the reports read and not being able to take up our exams?"
"If only we didn't have to take them I would feel better. Of course you are safe," said Bobbie ruefully.
"Perhaps it is better to have this one last spasm of courage," replied Sally, although her whimsical expression did not register anything "better"; it bespoke the condition as "worse."
The assembly was well filled up when the two conspiring freshmen took their places as near the door as seats could be found. The biting wintry air permeated the big auditorium, and when the restless shuffling of feet had finally come down to a murmur of soft sporadic shiftings—some girls never could keep their feet still— then the dean, Miss Rutledge, made her annual announcement.
No girl was ever dropped from Wellington without having first received due warning, she told the classes; also she announced that ratings given at this time would afford students opportunity to make the next half year's plans while at home with their families.
It is easy to guess that many hearts fluttered wildly in anxious anticipation during this trying moment. But Wellington was always fair, and no one would be denied a chance to "pull up" if native ability seemed equal to the trial.
The seniors, almost all self-reliant and assured of their standing, had little to speculate upon, and their report was quickly disposed of. In the juniors were many whose standing held interest, but almost all got off favorably. Ted Guthrie had worked off "conditions," as had Inez and Janet, one in math and the other in Greek, but the first half year was pronounced satisfactory for almost all the students whose names have figured in this little tale. Jane and Judith were always counted among the lucky number.
It was in the freshmen's ranks that things were sure to happen. Here were girls just trying out college; some sure to be found unsuitable for pursuing the higher branches of education, others evidently capable as to intellect but poorly prepared, and were thus handicapped with too heavy a burden of "conditions." Again there were those who had drifted through "High" without much effort, and relying on this pace had mistaken the very serious work of college for that of the rather indifferent preparatory work.
Much of this explanation was embodied in Miss Rutledge's statement to the assembled pupils.
"There is also this to be considered," she said. "Some pupils show remarkable aptitude in certain studies, and when this is found in the exact science of mathematics we have reason to feel that the student will eventually make up other deficiencies, and so keep up with her class."
"That's for you," whispered Sally to Bobbie with a very broad nudge, but Bobbie's eyes answered with that look pet animals throw out when in doubt of a master's exact meaning.
Then, there were cited the highest averages, and the first name called was that of Miss Sarah Howland! As Miss Rutledge read the name she looked up from her reports.
"I feel I should add," she said gently, "that Miss Howland has covered more than the work required, and has the peculiarly well balanced intellect that seems to feed from one subject to another. I must congratulate Miss Howland upon her splendid record as a first- year student."
Jane Allen's hands led the applause that followed this, but it was not ended until the ranks of the freshmen had paid ample tribute to their star member. Sally was dreadfully embarrassed. She shook her head in continual protest, but her objection had only the effect of increasing the acclamation. Finally the dean proceeded.
Bobbie was all but biting her nails in sheer nervousness. After all, this had required an amount of courage. Her nails pressed into her palms fiercely. Perhaps it would have been simpler to have avoided the final reckoning? The girls' names being read gave to her tingling ears merely a blurred murmur. Yes, Dolly Lloyd would pass: and there was Margie Winters—Margie was a star in English. Next—
"Miss Shirley Duncan," came the dean's voice, and then she paused.
"Here is a student who has shown exceptional work in mathematics," she continued, "and while her preparation for college has been undoubtedly faulty, her teachers recommend that she continue her work and apply herself with special tutors for those studies in which she has been especially deficient."
Shirley was all but gasping, when again from Jane Allen's seat came the approval of applause.
"She made it," the girls were whispering. "I always knew she was a wizard at math," insisted Nellie Saunders.
"Bobbie is perfectly all right," declared the wise little Margie
Winters. "It was all on account of her country ideas—"
"Hush," whispered Dolly Lloyd. "We are all more or less from the country. Do you want to claim the Grand Central Station?"
This set Margie back in her seat—and presently all the "freshies" had been given their ratings. A few very sharp warnings were administered, and that a great deal of cramming would have to be done by some before the mid-year exams, to take place early in January, was made especially plain by the dean. No one would be dropped without warning, but the standards of Wellington would have to be maintained, she concluded.
Little reader, if you expect to get to college begin your "cramming" now in high school, and let each day's record be such as will surely make a satisfactory total in preparation. If more students could only realize this in time!
Assembly was dismissed and the girls surrounded Bobbie and Sally. Jane and Judith seemed personally responsible for these two freshmen, and no one could discount the gleam in Jane's eyes when she squeezed Bobbie's clammy hand.
"Why so—frightened?" she demanded. "Isn't it just wonderful to know you couldn't break away even though you tried so flagrantly?" There was a twinkle thrown in with this, and Jane next piled compliments on Sally.
Never were there two "satisfactory" students so manifestly unhappy. No one could miss the nervous manner Sally tried so hard to hide, nor yet the heightened color in Bobbie's cheeks when she flatly refused to comment on the surprise.
"Queer," observed Dolly Lloyd. "If I turned out satisfactory when I just waited for my little return home notice, it seems to me I would at least emit a smile."
Freed from the scrutiny of their companions at last, Sally and Bobbie bolted for Lenox. It had been a trying ordeal and both felt its effects too keenly to throw it off at once.
"It's over," eulogized Bobbie, slamming down her hat on Sally's camp chair and promptly sitting on it.
"Yes, and you ought to be the happiest girl in all Wellington," declared Sally, standing limp before the dresser that reflected a sad little face unobserved.
"I ought to be happy!" repeated Bobbie. "How about you? Ted knew his guess when he called you King Pin of the Freshies. Sallylun, why don't you try to finish? Couldn't I help you?"
"You know the conditions, Bob? We went into this together and together we quit—" said Sally, rather crudely for her.
"It's a shame," grumbled Bobbie. "I just love it all now."
"But you can remain! Even your conditions are assured."
"And as you said we went in together, etc.," said Bobbie.
Jane Allen was at the door before they heard her step.
"Now," she called out in announcement of her presence, "Bobbie, you have no excuse. Even dad will be delighted, but he couldn't feel as I do about it. Bobbie, I'm just proud of you!" The dry lips moved but did not answer.
"Why don't you trust me?" asked Jane flatly. "I know you are planning something, of course."
"Oh, we do trust you, indeed," declared Sally with quivering lips, "and we both are too grateful to frame words in expression."
"But you are not quite—confidential," pressed Jane. Her eye was checking up the hat boxes and other evidences of "house cleaning" scattered around.
They had positively decided to write her a full explanation to be delivered after they left. This was finally agreed upon as the one practical plan and neither would attempt to violate it now. But this moment, with Jane's affectionate manner as a lure, was indeed a strong temptation! What might have happened did not happen, however, for a team of girls burst in at that very minute and put an abrupt end to the developing confidences.
They descended upon the serious ones with such exhilaration that even the neatly tied-up boxes were threatened with violence.
"We are going to give a 'Dingus' tonight," shouted Betty, "and you are not going to spoil it as you did our ghost party. Sally, this time you two will be left off the committee, then perhaps we can have our fun without your interference. Not that we wouldn't love to have you," she hastened to temporize, "but we know how you do duck our sports, and this time we are bound to put one through. We merely dropped in to invite you, and if you are not on hand be warned!"
"Be warned that we will drag you from your lair!" threatened Nellie Saunders. "This is going to be one grand final rally, and we want above all the two famous members of the clan."
"You may wear your kilts and whitewash brushes," conceded Nellie.
"You should wear a laurel crown, Sally. I suppose next half you will jump right in junior and skip us poor little sophs, at least I hope we'll be sophs," said Margie Winters.
Jane managed to hide her impatience, but she was disappointed. She had expected to draw out the confidence of Sally and Bobbie, realizing she might help them if she but understood the mysterious predicament. But there was no chance of further pressing that point, so she turned and fled, to leave the freshies to their own particular little affairs.
Judith was anxiously waiting to hear the outcome of her visit, as it had been planned between them.
"No wiser than when I left you," confessed Jane. "Whatever those two youngsters are up to I can't sense it nor get them to own up. But, Judy, just keep a sharp watch out. If they run off it shall be our joyful ju-ty to run them back. Some of the old Dol Vin nonsense is still brewing in their childish brains I fear, and it behooves us to eliminate it."
"But why should they want to go now?" puzzled Judith.
"I have admitted I cannot even guess," replied Jane, "but whatever it is it began long ago and it just ripened now. Keep a watch on Lenox, that is all I can advise. I hardly know now which of the two fascinating little creatures I am most in love with. Sally is as dear as ever, and Bobbie more—compelling. If I had a brother I should imagine him just about as deliciously rebellious as Bobbie."
Which was saying a good deal for Bobbie when it came from Jane.
"Do you really think they will attempt to run away?" queried Judith, deeply perplexed.
"There is every evidence of it."
"After everything turning out so beautifully—"
"That's just it. There is some secret behind it all," reasoned Jane.
"I am just as much in the dark as ever."
"Didn't you—couldn't you ask them outright Janie? How dreadful if they should spoil everything, by acting so horrid! To run away!"
"But we must not allow them to do so," argued Jane. "Surely now that we are both warned, we ought to be able to forestall any such attempt."
"You know now how hard it is to keep track of things over at Lenox," faltered Judith. "Not that I wouldn't be willing to sit up nights to watch those babes, but even at that they could slip off," she reasoned.
"The freshies are having an affair tonight, that will mean we must be doubly watchful during the excitement."
"Why not tell some of the other girls, and get them to help us?"
"I should hate to do that," replied Jane. "After all we have only suspicion; it would never do to start a story like that."
"I suppose you are right," sighed Judith, "but if I thought Dol Vin- -"
"There is nothing you can't think about Dol Vin, if that helps you any. But just the same, she still acts the adroit meddler. When I recall how she tried all last year to spoil our time here—yours and mine—and now when I see she is making tools of these two innocents- -" Jane paused from sheer indignation.
"I don't believe the girl is fully civilized," blurted out Judith.
"Of course she isn't, if you mean by 'civilized' being human and kind and American. I would rather be hot headed and fiery, and have all the other bad traits I plead guilty of, than to be as smart and business-like as she is, but have no heart. I honestly believe Dol Vin has a human motor in place of a flesh and blood heart." Jane was getting excited now, and she paced up and down quite like a regular stage person.
"My poor noodle just thumps with the thinking," confessed Judith.
"Of course I am not willing to take the responsibility of policing
Lenox Hall all night Jane. There must be some other way."
"I positively decline, Judy, to tell the office or ask for official help. That would be too silly if we have made a mistake," decided Jane falling into a convenient seat.
Judith did not speak directly. She was loath to cross Jane further, yet unwilling to shoulder this rather serious responsibility.
"Why not invite both Bobbie and Sally over here and have them remain all night?" she suggested. "That would be a treat for the—"
"You forget the Lenox girls are having a party," Jane interrupted.
"Then let us break in on the party," followed Judith quickly.
"I agree, Judy, we must keep as close to them for a day at least, as it is possible to do without actually locking them up. Dear me, Jude! Look at the time! And I've got to get in some gym practice. My joints are as stiff as sticks, and I had congested headaches just from laziness. Coming to the gym?"
"No, not today. My head aches from activity. You have me all swirled up. Don't mind if I take a rest, do you? Suppose we have to go on picket duty?"
Jane laughed, defying her fears for Sally and Bobbie.
"When I have anything important to do I must be alert," explained Jane. "Go to sleep if you like Judy, but be ready if you hear me whistle. It may be a race between the freshies and juniors you know."
"Oh—hum!" groaned Judith as Jane raced off.