They walked home through the apple orchard that occupied one corner of the back campus.
“It’s not a very big campus, and not a bit dignified or imposing, but I like it,” said Betty, as they came out on to the main drive again, and started toward the gateway.
“Nice and cozy to live with every day,” added Katherine. Helen was too busy comparing the red-brick, homely reality with the shaded marble cloisters of her dreams, to say what she thought.
Betty’s dancing class was a great success. With characteristic energy she organized it Monday morning. It appeared that while all the Chapin house girls could dance except Helen and Adelaide Rich, none of them could “lead” but Eleanor.
“And Miss King’s friends said we freshmen ought to learn before the sophomore reception, particularly the tall ones; and most of us are tall,” explained Betty.
“That’s all right,” interposed Eleanor, “but take my advice and don’t learn. If you can’t lead, the other girl always will; and the men say it ruins a girl’s dancing.”
“Who cares?” demanded Katherine boldly. “Imagine Betty or Miss Brooks trying to see over me and pull me around! I want to learn, for one–men or no men.”
“So do I,” said Rachel and Mary Rich together. “And I,” drawled Roberta languidly.
“Oh well, if you’re all set upon it, I’ll play for you,” said Eleanor graciously. She was secretly ashamed of the speech that Katherine had overheard the day before and bitterly regretted having antagonized the girls in the house, when she had meant only to keep them–all but Betty–at a respectful distance. She liked most of them personally, but she wished her friends to be of another type–girls from large schools like her own, who would have influence and a following from the first; girls with the qualities of leadership, who could control votes in class-meetings and push their little set to first place in all the organized activities of the college. Eleanor had said that she came to college for “fun,” but “fun” to her meant power and prominence. She was a born politician, with a keen love of manœuvring and considerable tact and insight when she chose to exercise it. But inexperience and the ease with which she had “run” boarding-school affairs had made her over-confident. She saw now that she had indulged her fondness for sarcasm too far, and was ready to do a good deal to win back the admiration which she was sure the Chapin house girls had felt for her at first. She was particularly anxious to do this, as the freshman class-meeting was only a week off, and she wanted the votes of the house for the Hill School candidate for class-president.
So three evenings that week, in spite of her distaste for minor parts and bad pianos, she meekly drummed out waltzes and two-steps on Mrs. Chapin’s rickety instrument for a long half hour after dinner, while Betty and Roberta–who danced beautifully and showed an unexpected aptitude in imparting her accomplishment–acted as head-masters, and the rest of the girls furnished the novices with the necessary variety of partners, practiced “leading,” and incidentally got better acquainted. On Friday evening, as they sat in the parlor resting and discussing the progress of their pupils and the appalling length of the Livy lesson for the next day, Eleanor broached the subject of the class-meeting.