“Indeed, they are not for sale!” exclaimed Miss Hamilton. “Those houses belong to me. Uncle Brooke once owned the other block. He sold it to John Saxe’s father.”
“Then we need never hope to build our dormitory where your houses now stand.” Marjorie could not resist saying this. She smiled, looking her hostess squarely in the eyes as she uttered the pointed remark.
It appeared to amuse Miss Susanna immensely. She laughed and said: “You are a straightforward child, aren’t you? To please you I would be glad to part with those properties for a small sum. I can’t consider the situation from that standpoint, unfortunately. I am done with Hamilton College. That settles the matter. Suppose we talk about something else.”
Quite accustomed to the old lady’s moods, Marjorie obligingly complied with the preemptory request. Neither did she allow it to intrude upon her mind until she had left Miss Susanna that evening. She carried with her a basket of be-ribboned packages to be distributed among the eight girls of Miss Susanna’s acquaintance. The old lady’s emphatic order had been: “These are to be opened on Christmas morning; not a minute before.”
As she hurried lightly along over the frozen ground, Marjorie wondered mightily what dire calamity had been precipitated to incur such implacable hatred against Hamilton College as Miss Susanna plainly harbored. She could never think of it rather than sorrowfully. It seemed so sad, that, after all the time and labor and love Brooke Hamilton had lavished upon the college, one of his own kin should be its most unrelenting enemy.
Meanwhile Miss Hamilton had rung for Jonas and was repeating to him all that Marjorie had said to her. Jonas occupied in her household the position of manager, servitor and valued friend. He was close to eighty years of age and had been at Hamilton Arms even longer than had Miss Susanna. He had, as a young man, served Brooke Hamilton faithfully during the latter’s declining years.
“By right, Jonas, I ought to turn over that property to those energetic youngsters,” she asserted in her quick, matter-of-fact fashion. “Their object is really a worthy one.”
“They are trying to carry on his work,” Jonas rejoined solemnly. “He would have wanted it to be so, Miss Susanna.”
“Oh, I know it, Jonas; I know it.” There was more than a shade of regret in the admission. “I can’t overlook some things. The college doesn’t deserve it from me; not after the way I was treated by the Board. No; they can’t have it. If there was any good way to get hold of that strip of open ground of Cardens, I’d do it. Cutler could be trusted to sell it to Marjorie, and her friend Robin, without mentioning me in the transaction. I’d do it only to please the child, though; only to please her.”