So the day progressed in doing a score of little odds and ends of work which have the effect of making boarding-school quarters suggestive of home.
Several weeks later Elizabeth had one lesson in what the girls could teach her, something which was not found between the covers of books. At home, there had always been her mother to pick up after her. She might drop hat, gloves and coat anywhere about the house, and when she needed them, find them in their proper places, dusted, mended and ready for use.
During the first week at Exeter, Mary Wilson unconsciously dropped into her mother’s place in this particular, perhaps because she was a year older than Elizabeth, and had learned this lesson in her own time. Certain it was, when they dressed for dinner, she looked about the bedroom and put in order each article which was out of place, or called Elizabeth’s shortcomings to notice with, “Your dress will muss lying on that chair,” or “Is that your slipper in the study, or did I leave mine there?”
During the month of October, the girls at Exeter gave their first reception. Guests came from all the little towns about, and the Hall was filled with flowers, lights and bright music.
Elizabeth and Mary had hurried from the dinner-table to get into their party gowns. Miss Wilson, as a Senior, was one of the reception-committee. Elizabeth was but half-way through with her dressing when Mary had finished.
“There, Elizabeth, I’m done. Look me over and see if my waist is together all right.”
Elizabeth was standing before the mirror, pins between her lips, trying to reduce a refractory bow to submission. She turned to look at her roommate. “Sweet—your dress is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” was the response with a characteristic toss of her head. “With those pins in your mouth you talk like a dialect story. I’m off now. Dr. Morgan wishes the committee to meet in her parlor. I suppose she wants to get our mouths into the ‘papa, potatoes, prunes and prisms’ shape before we meet the guests. I’m sorry I can’t go down with you, Elizabeth. A first reception is so trying. Nancy won’t go down until late. Suppose I ask her to wait for you?”
“That may put her to trouble. I thought of asking Miss O’Day to go with me. She’s just across the hall, and has no one special to go with her since she rooms alone.”
Miss Wilson hesitated a moment, standing in the middle of the doorway. She looked quite serious at the mention of Miss O’Day.