CHAPTER VII
There was at Dickinson a Doctor Wilbur who had charge of the mathematics. He was a man of brilliant mind, sharp tongue, and a poor opinion of the mental ability of girls in general. He had been at Dickinson two years, not because he loved the class of students, but the financial consideration had been the best ever offered to him.
The girls feared him and yet respected him for the power he exercised over a class.
He did not hesitate to use sarcastic speech. Scarcely a day passed, but some girl came from Class-room C with her feelings deeply wounded.
Hester, who had a way of "speaking up," had borne her share of Doctor Wilbur's humor. But she forgot and forgave the instant she left his recitation.
One day he had been particularly trying, and the sting of his words had lingered. She had it in mind to tell Helen of the bitter words Doctor Wilbur had hurled at her, simply because she could not explain the projection of a perpendicular upon a plane. So far in their school life—two months had passed—Hester and Helen had spoken to each other only of the agreeable things. But now Hester meant to express herself and be sympathized with.
But when she reached Sixty-two, she found Edna Bucher awaiting her. Edna was tall and slender; long and lank, perhaps would be more nearly her description. She was colorless and lifeless. Her one desire seemed to be to be ladylike and to go with the best people. In her lexicon, best meant those with money or influence. Her hands were always cold, and her face expressionless. She posed as being the leader in classes. She was literary and musical, if one might believe her own judgment of herself. She never played, however, for the practice tired her. When she failed to respond to an invitation to recite—sometimes the invitation was quite urgent—it was not that she was not prepared to recite, but she was so nervous that she could not control her voice.
"I've been waiting for you for half an hour," she began as Hester entered the room. Her tones implied, that although the responsibility be on Hester's head, she would be good enough to overlook it.
"Were you?" replied Hester. "You surely knew that the freshies were busy until this hour."
"I presume I did so; but it passed entirely from my mind. I was so absorbed in my work. I am editor-in-chief of the 'Dickinson Mirror.'"