The class in Domestic Science was proving of tremendous interest both to Molly and Melissa. Melissa had much to learn and Molly much to un-learn. It was a special course, and for that reason girls from all classes were mixed in it. There were quite a number of Juniors, and Molly was sorry to see Anne White among them, as she had been on the platform at Wellington when Melissa arrived, and, in the quiet way for which she was famous in making trouble, had been the one to start the titter that had grown, as that seemingly unconscious young goddess made her way down the platform, into a wave of laughter. Melissa had been fully aware of the amusement she had caused, but she had borne no malice against the thoughtless girls.
“I reckon I was a figure of fun to these rich girls,” Melissa said to Molly, “but I know they did not mean to be unkind; and if they knew what it means to me to come to college perhaps they would look at me differently. Anyhow, you were so nice to me from the very minute I spoke to you; and even before I spoke, Molly, dear, because I saw your sweet eyes taking me in as I came up the platform between the rows of grinning students. And I said to myself, ‘All these are just second-growth timber and don’t count for much. That girl with the blue eyes and the pretty red hair looking at me so kindly is the only tree here that is worth much.’ And somehow I have been resting in the shade of your branches ever since.”
This little conversation was held one morning as the girls were getting their materials ready for some experimental bread-making. A tremendously interesting lecture on yeast had preceded it, and now was to be followed by various chemical experiments. The lecturer had not arrived, but had appointed certain students to get the materials in order.
Anne White was one of the monitors, and was moving around in a demure way, daintily setting out the little bowls of flour and portions of yeast. Anne White was a small, mousy-looking, brown-haired young woman who looked as though butter would not melt in her mouth, but who was in reality often the ring-leader in many foolish escapades. She was a great practical joker, and when all is told a practical joker is a very trying person, and very often a person lacking in true humor. As she placed the bowls of yeast, she sang the following song with many sly looks at Molly and her friend:
“The first time I saw Melissa,
She was sitting in the cellar,
Sitting in the cellar shelling peas.
And when I stooped to kiss her,
She said she’d tell her mother,
For she was such an awful little tease.
Oh, wasn’t she sweet? You bet she was,
She couldn’t have been any sweeter.
Oh, wasn’t she cute? You bet she was,
She couldn’t have been any cuter.
For when I stooped to kiss her,
She said she’d tell her mother,
For she was such an awful little tease.”
The singing was so evidently done for Melissa’s benefit that Molly felt indignant.
“I can’t stand teasing, and certainly not such silly teasing as Anne White delights in. She is a slippery little thing, and I have an idea means mischief for my Melissa. I wish Judy were here to circumvent her, but since she is not I shall have to keep my eye open.” So thought Molly, and accordingly opened her eyes just in time to see Anne White raise the cover of Melissa’s bowl of flour and drop in something. The instructor came in just then and the class came to order.
“It can’t do any real harm,” thought Molly, “because we don’t have to eat our messes, but if it is something to embarrass Melissa I shall have a talk with Anne White that she will remember all her days. She knows Melissa and I are not the kind to blab on her, the reason she is presuming in this way.”