Azzie was at the piano when Elizabeth found her. “It depends,” she replied. “If Smiles will allow me to do overtime this evening, I won’t be able to come. I’ll be too tired. If she’s cranky and locks up the music room, I’ll come.”
“Then I hope she’ll be cranky. We want you,” was the response.
“I don’t. Professor Van Buren gave me the sweetest thing to-day—a little German composition. I want to work on it. It isn’t hard, but the runs need practice.” She turned back to her music.
Elizabeth went on to find Miss O’Day. Their acquaintance had not gone beyond that of class-room meetings and hall chats. She had never visited the girl’s rooms. She was surprised at their beauty and elegance. All the Exeter girls had comfortable apartments, but this surpassed anything else at the Hall. The draperies between the doors were of imported India material; her tea-table showed many pieces of Royal Worcester; her extra chairs were of fine cabinet woods. The occupant of the room was seated in a low chair by the fire. She was already dressed for dinner. Since the evening Dr. Morgan had sent her to her room because she had appeared in a low-necked gown, her dressing had been less elaborate, yet by no means could it be called simple.
Her hands were covered with rings. Her hair was piled high in quite the fashion of a grown-up woman. It was more noticeable, perhaps, because the younger students at Exeter wore their hair in girlish fashion.
She arose to greet Elizabeth, shaking her by the hand and leading her to a chair. She was pleased that Elizabeth had called, yet her manner had a certain icy courtesy about it which made her guest ill at ease.
“This is the first time you have come to see me,” she said. “But I am glad you have come at last. Sit here. This low chair is the most comfortable.”
“I haven’t time,” said Elizabeth. Nevertheless she took the proffered chair. “Your rooms are beautiful, Miss O’Day,” she said. “As you say, this is the first time I have been in them, but I had caught glimpses from the hall of your pretty draperies and chairs. Your tea-table is a dream.”
“Why haven’t you come in before and seen it close at hand?” she asked.
Elizabeth knew no polite way of evading the question. She was not skilled in the little methods of saying much and meaning little.