“What is it some philosopher said?” Beth asked her chum, laughingly. “If a man does some one thing better than anybody else, the world will beat a path to his door?”
“Yes,” grunted Molly. “But how about the man who goes in for raising skunks? Guess the world will beat it the other way from his door, won’t it?”
It was not that Beth deprived herself of all social intercourse with her fellows, but she would not be tempted to put herself forward or be led into situations where girls of Maude Grimshaw’s type could snub her. Since that unlucky night of the first red masque of the term, Beth had been able to escape Maude’s particular notice.
Yet Maude sat directly opposite Beth at table. The meals at Rivercliff School were social to a degree. The girls filed into the dining-room in perfect order and were seated. At once a hum of conversation arose. The big dining-room sounded like a hive of bees. There was no attempt by the teachers or monitors to quench cheerful talk and moderate laughter; but even the primes in their corner could not be boisterous.
Maude Grimshaw gave many exhibitions of her boorishness; but usually such occurrences escaped the notice of the teachers. Having put Beth in what the rich girl considered “her place,” Maude did not trouble herself further about the girl from Hudsonvale.
Sometimes the waitresses came in for a taste of Miss Grimshaw’s sharp tongue. She seemed to have taken a special dislike to Cynthia Fogg, possibly because she believed Beth to be a friend of the freckled girl’s, or because the latter had a perfectly detached and untroubled way of receiving Miss Grimshaw’s strictures.
Beth once heard Maude say to Laura Hedden:
“I even dislike the face of that Fogg girl—‘Cynthie,’ do they call her? Do you know, she has the impudence to look like a very dear friend of mine.”
“It can’t be!” drawled Laura. “That waitress?”
“Yes. She really does look something like Miss Freylinghausen. You’ve heard of the Freylinghausens, of course. Emeline is an heiress half a dozen times over. She is traveling in Europe just now. Oh! we are very good friends. An old Philadelphia family, you know, the Freylinghausens. One of the very oldest.”