The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jean Cabot at Ashton, by Gertrude Fisher Scott, Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott

"Well, I never, a freshman asleep at the switch!"—Page 23.

JEAN CABOT AT ASHTON

BY

GERTRUDE FISHER SCOTT

ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR O. SCOTT

BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Published, August, 1912

Copyright, 1912, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.

All rights reserved

Jean Cabot at Ashton

Norwood Press
BERWICK & SMITH CO.
NORWOOD MASS.
U. S. A.

Contents

Illustrations

Jean Cabot at Ashton

CHAPTER I
THE DAY BEFORE

"Now, Tom dear, don't you do another single thing for me; I'm sure I shall be all right, and Cousin Anna will meet me at the train in Boston and then everything will be smooth sailing. You'll miss your train if you wait another moment and blame me for it ever after, so good-by; I'll write you as soon as I'm comfortably settled with Elizabeth Frances Fairfax, in 45 Merton Hall."

"Well, so long, little sister; let me know if there's anything I can do for you and we'll spend Thanksgiving together surely at Aunt Sarah's, and may be, if you're very good, I'll come up and take you to the Harvard-Yale the week before. You wouldn't mind going with that good-looking room-mate of mine if I could persuade Connie Huntington to accompany me, would you? It's only a few hours' run up to Boston, but here are some chocolates and magazines in case you tire of the scenery. Be game, little girl, and above every thing else, make good."

With these words Thomas Cabot swung off the train just in time to catch a near-by accommodation train to convey him to Littleton Center, where he was to join a merry house-party of young people. Jean quietly arose from her seat and watched from the car window until her brother had entirely disappeared from view, and then somewhat reluctantly turned and resumed her former seat.

Brother and sister had come from Los Angeles to New York together, he to enter upon his senior year at Yale and she to become a freshman at Ashton College. Jean was the only daughter and youngest child of a family of six. The four older brothers had been educated in the West and were determined that the two youngest children should see something of the life and culture of the East. Mrs. Cabot had died when Jean was six, and although she had had governesses and accommodating aunts and cousins galore to consider her welfare, still most of her life had been spent in the company of her father and brothers, and when they decided that she should go East to Ashton, a small college of about five hundred strong, within twenty-five miles of Boston, she had never for one moment doubted the wisdom of their choice, and acquiesced as willingly as though Brother Will had said, "Jean, go get your racket for a set of tennis."

From Los Angeles to New York, Tom and she had kept up a continuous conversation on the "do's and don'ts" of college life, and at the end of the journey Jean felt that she had a great advantage over the other green freshmen, for she had been too carefully coached by her brother to make any serious errors. Then, too, Cousin Anna Maitlandt, a graduate of Ashton 1911, was to meet her at Boston and take her out to college to see that she made a good beginning amid the strange new surroundings.

Now Tom was gone, and for the first time that she could remember, Jean was alone, face to face with the first big thing in her life. She tried to read, but thoughts of home would persist in rushing in upon her, and between the lines danced little pictures of life away out in California. She wondered why she had come to college. Was it simply to please her father and brothers or did she mean to make a success of it for her own sake? She was fond of books and of study, but fond of so many other things as well. What would there be in college to take the place of her horseback rides over the ranch with the boys, her evenings with her father in his den, her tennis, her weeks in camp in the mountains, her whole free outdoor life? She knew little of girls and cared less, for up to this time they had played a small part in her life. To be sure, she had known them at St. Margaret's, her fitting school, but she had spent as little time as possible there in order to be at the call of the boys when they needed her, and you may be sure some one of the five needed her most of the time. She was their true confidante and they told her their little business worries and successes, their love affairs, and their hopes and ambitions, for each felt that his secret was safe with her. In spite of her tender years and lack of real experience she seemed to be able to advise where many an older person would have failed. And now she was leaving them all behind and was wondering what they could do without her. The more she thought, the more the longing came over her to give it all up and go back to those she loved best.

Before she realized it two great tears were rolling down her cheeks and as she was about to wipe them away a tall, handsome girl stood before her, smiling down at her. "Isn't this Jean Cabot?" she asked, giving her hand a cordial shake. "May I sit down here and talk a little? You're going to Ashton College, aren't you? So am I. My name is Allison, Marguerite Allison, 1914. Of course you're wondering how I knew it was you. Well, I was sitting in the last chair of this car and saw your brother as he bade you good-by. I met Tom last year at the Yale Prom and I am sure he is going now to a house-party at Littleton Center. I've just come from there and know all about it. I was terribly disappointed not to stay over the week-end, but I'm on the House Committee and just have to be back to-morrow. You know Student Government just makes you do things. Belle Thurston, an old Ashton girl, who is giving the house-party, told me she expected Tom this evening, but he was stopping off in New York long enough to get his sister Jean started for her year at Ashton. So that's how I knew it was you. But tell me, dear, where are you going to live?"

By this time Jean's tears had dried and she had regained her usual composure and quite firmly replied, "Oh, Miss Allison, I'm so glad to know you; I was just beginning to get homesick, but you've saved my life. I'm to live in Merton, 45, with Elizabeth Frances Fairfax. I got my assignment just the day before we started."

"Merton; why, that's my house. Isn't it grand? 'Forty-five' is fourth floor and mine is 27, second floor. As for Elizabeth Frances Fairfax, she's probably another freshman from Massachusetts; name sounds like one of those good old New England families. Massachusetts girls are all right in spite of their strict old Puritan ancestors. I'm from Cherokee, Iowa, but I haven't been home all summer. Really I haven't any home to go to, for my father is interested in mines and is down in Mexico most of the time. I stay with my aunt when I'm in Cherokee, but this summer I've been visiting some of the college girls in New York State and ended up at Littleton Center. And you've come all the way from Los Angeles? I thought I'd come some distance, but it's nothing in comparison with your trip. Most of the girls at college are Easterners, but I'm sure you'll like them after you get used to their ways.

"What studies are you going to take? Can I help you with your program? Come right into 27 as soon as we land and I'll fix things up for you. Speaking of Massachusetts girls, you'll fall in love with my room-mate, Natalie Lawton, just the minute you see her. She's from Boston; lived there all her short life, not fifteen minutes' walk from the Boston Public Library and Copley Square. Excuse me, of course you don't know anything about Boston yet, but you will before you've been a month at Ashton. Miss Emerson, she's college president, you know, thinks there's no place on the whole earth quite like Boston, and it's her especial delight to impress upon freshmen the advantages of being so near to this wonderful city. The first time you hear her say, 'Now, girls, remember the great advantages offered to you by being in such close proximity to Boston,' you will think it rather significant, but by the time you've heard it 576 times it will begin to grow a little monotonous.

"Why, Miss Cabot, we're actually passing through Hyde Park, and we'll be in the South Station in a few minutes. Hasn't the time gone quickly? How many trunks have you and where are your checks? Let's be getting our things together. I left my luggage up in the other end of the car, so I'll go up and collect it and be back in a minute."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Allison, but my cousin, Miss Anna Maitlandt, has promised to meet me at the train and I am sure she will help me with my trunks."

"What! Anna Maitlandt, 1911, your cousin! Why, she lived in East Hall her senior year when I was a freshman. I haven't seen her for perfect ages, but she was my crush freshman year. How good it will seem to see her again! And to think she's your cousin! How small the world is after all! Here we are—follow me and I'll keep my eye open for Anna."

The long express train was crowded, but the two girls were quickly out upon the platform and well up the track before a word was said. Marguerite was well in the lead, when all at once Jean saw her drop her bags and vigorously seize a rather petite girl, trim in her immaculate white linen suit. By the time their greetings were over, Jean had arrived on the scene and found herself as effusively greeted.

"So this is little Jean! Well, I never should have known you. Why, you're as big as Tom, and look more like a senior than a green freshie! No hazing you, my lady. Oh, what a prize for Ashton Athletic Association! What is your specialty, Jean, tennis, basket-ball or rowing? You'll make all three without half trying.

"Now, where are your trunk checks? We'll send the trunks out to Ashton at once to have them waiting for us when we arrive. I'm going to take you girls up town with me for dinner and a good talk, and Jean must go out home with me for the night. To-morrow will be plenty early enough for her to arrive. What say'st thou, Peggy?"

"Oh, Nan, you're a perfect dear to invite me, but really I can't accept. You see I'm due out at Merton for a meeting of the House Committee to-night. I stayed down at Littleton Center till the last minute and now I've got to hustle back, for we've loads of work to plan out. Drop into 27 to-morrow as soon as you arrive and make it your headquarters until Jean's room is settled. Come down to the Inn for lunch with me at noon. All of the old girls will be there and it will be a good opportunity to introduce Jean to them. You know there's nothing like knowing the right girls at the start.

"By the way, did you know that Bess McNeil was married last week? Oh, I'm just brim-full of news to tell you, but it will have to wait till later, for I must leave you now or I'll never catch the 5:09. So glad to have met you, Nan; seems like old times, and I think your cousin is a perfect dear. So long till to-morrow," and with this she dashed across the station to a waiting taxicab which would convey her and her bags across the city to the North Station.

Jean's trunks were soon re-checked and the two girls left the station and took an uptown electric. Before long they alighted and entered a quiet hotel where a good dinner was quickly served. Since Jean's arrival the two girls had talked a steady stream, but the conversation had centered almost entirely upon the families and home life of the two. Now, however, it changed to the more important subject of college. Anna did most of the talking, for it took a long time to answer Jean's many questions. How much there was to be said. In fact, Anna might have sat there all night discoursing on the joys and sorrows of a college girl's life if a sweet-sounding clock had not reminded her that in a very few moments the last suburban train departed for Framington. Quickly she paid her bill and they were on their way again.

Although it was rather late when they arrived home, they found Mr. and Mrs. Maitlandt waiting for them. After a most cordial greeting, Mrs. Maitlandt suggested that they all retire, as it had been a hard day for Jean and she must be fresh and rested for her first day at college.

After the good-nights had been said, Jean found herself alone in her room a little bewildered in her new surroundings. Her poor body and head ached as she had never known them to do before. To be sure, everybody had been so good to her, but now they had all left her and for the first time since she had left home she was alone. Quickly undressing she put out her electric light and went over to the window. It was a bright, starry night and as she gazed out upon its splendor a wave of homesickness swept over her and she sobbed, "Oh, father and the boys, why did I leave you? I wish I'd never promised to go to college."

CHAPTER II
HOW IT LOOKED ON WEDNESDAY

Bright and early Wednesday morning, Jean was up and dressed, for the two girls had planned an early start in order to reach Ashton before noon. Mr. Maitlandt, whose business took him into Boston every day, accompanied them to the South Station and saw them safely on a North Bound elevated. They easily caught the 10:17 train for Ashton and in twelve minutes had arrived at the little station, where they found "confusion worse confounded." Girls and trunks everywhere, irate and tired expressmen trying to settle difficulties, small boys by the dozens begging to carry suit-cases, wagons piled high with trunks and packing-boxes.

They waded through the crowd and, as Anna spied Mr. Chapin, the express agent, she hastened up to where he stood and said, "Good morning, Mr. Chapin. Of course you remember me, Anna Maitlandt. No, I'm not back for post graduate; I have only come out for a few days to see that my cousin gets started properly as a freshman. Here are her trunk checks and when you have time will you please see that they are taken up to Merton, 45. Any time to-day will do, but of course we should like them as soon as possible. Thank you." And he was off again before she could say more had she wished to do so.

Just then they heard, "Why, Nan Maitlandt, what on earth are you doing out here to-day?" and a tall girl darted round a pile of trunks. "I've brought my young sister Bess to college and we're having a terrible time. Only one of her trunks has come, and not a thing in it that she really wants. We've been arguing with old Chapie for an hour, but it doesn't do one bit of good."

"Nell, how like old times it seems. You always were in some kind of trouble all our four years and it wouldn't be you if something wasn't wrong. How many times do you suppose you lost one of your trunks, or books, or hats, or themes, or tennis rackets? But you always found them sooner or later and I'm confident your sister's trunk will turn up all right. I want you to know my cousin, Jean Cabot, from Los Angeles. She and your sister will be in the same class. Jean is to live in Merton. Where is Bess assigned?"

"Poor child, she didn't make the campus this year and is to room first semester at Mrs. McAllister's, but I hope second half she will get in East or Wellington, for you know so many drop out at midyear's that there's always a chance. How long will you be here? Can't you come down to the Cottage with your cousin?"

"Thanks, Nell, but I expect to be very busy and I'm only here for a few days. You know I begin hospital work at the Massachusetts General the first of October and I need every minute at home. But I'll try to see you somewhere if it's only for a few minutes. I want to hear all about yourself and the other girls."

It took but a few moments to leave the little station and its confusion behind them and Jean said, "Why, Anna, are we the last ones to arrive? Everybody seems to be at the station."

"No, child, they're mostly freshmen. The upper-class girls won't arrive until to-night or early in the morning. You know to-morrow is registration day and classes won't meet until Friday and Saturday. Now look straight ahead of you up the hill and you will get your first view of the campus. Let me tell you some of the buildings even if you don't remember them all. That tower is the chapel; the trees hide the building itself, but we shall see it better as we climb the hill. The white building is the new library, not quite finished as yet; to the right is East, next to that College Hall; opposite is Wellington; those dark-red buildings are the laboratories and away over beyond is Merton. We will walk slowly up Faculty Row and get a closer view. The rest of the dormitories are on the other side of the hill. Don't you love the hill already? Aren't the trees wonderful? The leaves are just beginning to turn and soon will be at their best. Wait till you see the ivy on the chapel in its brilliant autumn coloring. Before long you'll be racking your poor brain to sing its praises, for every one in Lit. I has to write a sonnet on the glory of the ivy on the chapel tower. Miss Whiting, 'prof' in Lit. I, is daffy on the subject and you'll find her any time in the fall lingering in the shadows of the tower and rhapsodizing on its beauty.

"Here's 'Prexy's' house. Isn't it dear? It was finished only last year and modeled after a little English house in Stratford-on-Avon where Miss Emerson spent several summers. Miss Thurston, the dean, lives there with her. Be sure you get on the right side of Miss Thurston, freshman year, Jean, and then you'll be safe for the other three."

"Other three! Why, Anna Maitlandt, I've only come to college for this one year. Nothing on earth could make me stay any longer. I've made up my mind on that subject, and when a Cabot once makes up his mind he never changes it. I'll do the best I can this year, but when June comes you can be sure I'll start for home on the very first train and stay there the rest of my life."

"Oh, Jean, college hasn't begun yet. Wait till midyear's and I'll wager by that time you'll be the most enthusiastic freshman on the hill, with room-mate chosen and plans all made for sophomore year. College life grows on you, and once it has made a start you can't stop it. I'm not going to give you a bit of advice now, but just before I leave I've a word or two for you.

"Here we are at old Merton. We have talked so much I forgot to point out the other buildings. How do you like the looks of your new home? I tried four of the dormitories and liked this the best of them all and Mrs. Thompson is a gem of a matron. Let's go right in and see her now."

Mrs. Thompson's rooms were on the first floor opposite the parlors and reading-room. She was a large, cheery woman who welcomed the girls in a way that made them feel at home instantly.

"We haven't begun our regular meals yet for so few of the girls are here, but I should be pleased to have you both lunch with me in my sitting-room."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, but we have promised to go down to the Inn. Has Miss Fairfax, who is to be Miss Cabot's room-mate, arrived yet?"

"No; we received word this morning that owing to sickness in her family she may be delayed several days. So if you like, Miss Maitlandt, you may be Miss Cabot's room-mate until the real one arrives."

"Thanks; it will be quite like old days to be rooming again in Merton. We'll go up directly, Jean," and they darted up the stairs. "Let's stop in Peggy's room on second for a minute."

Stopping before 27, Anna gave a vigorous knock and receiving no response opened the door and entered the room, followed by Jean. Evidently both of the occupants had arrived, for the room was in perfect order and presented a most attractive appearance. Anna walked over to one of the desks and found a note addressed to herself. Opening it she read aloud:

"Dear Nan: Natalie and I couldn't resist the call of the game and we're up on the courts for a set of tennis. Meet us at the Inn at one o'clock sharp. Hastily, Peg."

"Those two are fiends at tennis and Natalie won the college championship last year and she was only a sophomore. Generally it goes to a senior; in fact, Natalie is the first under-class girl to win the honor. Wait till she's up against you, Jean. Oh, I have it, there's something for you to work for. Why not be the first and only Ashton freshman to win the Tennis Championship? You can do it if you try. Why, Tom says you are the speediest girl player he ever saw, and for a fellow to admit that a girl can play tennis means more than anything else I know of.

"Well, what do you think of their rooms? The bedroom is just off at this side. Evidently their enthusiasm waned when they finished the study, for clothes are piled mountain high on their beds. It isn't fair to criticize first day, though, so let's up to fourth."

As they walked slowly up the stairs, Jean said a little hesitatingly, "Why, cousin, our rooms will never look like that unless my room-mate has all those pretty things. I haven't any pictures except father's and the boys' and they had pictures everywhere. And I haven't any flags or tea-table or chafing-dish or pillows or anything attractive."

"Never mind that, Jean; it's easy enough to get such things. We'll put the necessary things in order and then make a list of the other things you want, and a trip in town to-morrow will purchase them all. Most girls are not as fortunate as you in the matter of money, for I know you can have anything money will buy. So don't worry about it at all. Take my word for it, don't have too much in your room. The simpler the arrangement, the better. First-year girls are apt to fill every inch of space with pictures and souvenirs that senior year they would be ashamed to own. You can always tell an upper-class girl's room at first glance. You notice for yourself and see what it is that makes a room attractive to you, and I think in the end you will agree with me.

"Why, 45 is locked and we haven't the key. You wait a minute here and I'll run down and see Mrs. Thompson. Sit down on the suit-cases and I'll be back before you can count ten."

But it was a good ten minutes before Anna returned, for she evidently had some difficulty in finding the matron. For about five minutes Jean sat alone and thought of everything but college, then she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, for excitement had tired her a bit. Suddenly a loud laugh aroused her and she heard, "Well, I never, a freshman asleep at the switch! What's the matter, stranger, can I help you?"

"No, thank you; I'm waiting for some one to come and unlock my door. We couldn't find the key. My cousin has gone to find Mrs. Thompson."

"Well, in the meantime, come right over into my room. I'm to live just opposite. My name's Remington, Midge, or, more properly speaking, Marjorie Remington, 1915. Of course I'm a sophomore and your hated enemy, but that needn't make any difference yet. Leave your bags right there. Now sit down wherever you can find room. Looks pretty bad round here, doesn't it, but you see I only arrived this morning. I've a single this year. Couldn't stand another room-mate. Nearly died last year with the three I had. First girl flunked out at Thanksgiving, second's mother died and she left at midyear's, and the rest of the time I had the greasiest grind in the class to live with. I never studied and she always wanted to, so there was trouble from the start. How are you on the study question?"

Before Jean could answer she heard Anna hurrying up the hall and she excused herself quickly. The door of 45 was soon opened and the room indeed presented a desolate appearance. To be sure, it was clean and large and had plenty of windows, but the pieces of furniture were merely stacked up in the center in one huge pile.

Jean simply gasped "Oh!" but before she could finish, Anna said, "Put everything down in the corner and come over here and see the view." Indeed, from the southeast corner window there was a wonderful view of the surrounding country, and as here and there Anna pointed out interesting places, Jean's attention was drawn from the bareness and unattractiveness of the room to the beauty of the landscape.

"Now we'll not do a thing here until after lunch and then we'll work like Trojans and get the place livable. How's your appetite? I'm nearly starved. It's almost one o'clock, so we'll have to hustle to meet the girls on time."

When they arrived at the Inn they found it thronged with girls, but Marguerite was waiting for them and said that she had reserved a table and that Natalie was waiting inside. They entered the dining-room and were immediately seated in an extreme corner near a large window. Introductions were soon over and Jean thought Natalie the most attractive girl she had yet seen. She was her exact opposite in every way, small, dark, with large dancing brown eyes and an abundance of wavy brown hair. Her face and arms were brown as berries and just now, when violent exercise had flushed her cheeks, the heightened color came and went as she talked. Immediately she and Jean found a common subject of conversation in tennis and Jean talked as she had not done before with any one. Girls came up to their table with pleasant words of greeting and passed on and before Jean was quite aware of it lunch was over and they were on their way back to Merton.

Natalie and Jean walked together and soon Jean was telling her all about the ranch and her early life there. When they reached the dormitory the two juniors insisted upon going up to 45 to help put things in order. "You know we juniors are your staunchest friends, even-year classes against the odd years," said Natalie.

So up the stairs went the four and took possession of 45. They first chose the bedroom furniture and placed it in the small adjoining room. There were two white beds, two chiffoniers and two small chairs. To tell the truth, the room could hardly have held any more, and it required some care to place this amount so that there was any walking space. "We can't make up the beds until your trunks are unpacked, so let's tackle the study," said Peggy.

Out in the other room there was one large study-table, two small book-cases, two desks, a large couch, and two comfortable rockers. Just as they were moving some of these into place there was a knock at the door, and Joe, the colored janitor, announced the arrival of Jean's trunks. These he put in the middle of the room and unstrapped them.

"What! Three trunks? Aren't you the lucky girl to have enough to put in them? It's all I can do to fill one," said Peggy Allison, whose love of clothes was her greatest failing.

"Father insisted upon Aunt Molly's superintending my wardrobe, and all summer long I've done nothing but try on clothes until I don't care whether I ever see any more or not. That largest trunk has the few things I brought for my room." From the top of the trunk she lifted one box very carefully and showed the three girls the pictures of "her family" as she called the five. Surely they were splendid examples of American manhood, and one could not blame any girl for being loath to leave them.

"Sometime soon I'm coming up to visit you, Miss Cabot, and I want you to tell me all about your family and especially this member of it," and Peggy held up the picture of the second son, Nelson Cabot, a somewhat serious-looking fellow.

"Oh, Nels? Why, he's coming east on business in the winter and he has promised to spend a week in Boston and give me the time of my young life, as he says. Of course he'll come out here, and then you can see him and judge for yourself. We all call him our 'serious brother,' but he's got fun in him just the same when he gets started.

"Now let's make out a list of the things you really think I need for my room. I'll do my share before my room-mate appears and she'll find such a comfortable room that she'll be glad I arrived first. Now I want a tea-table and 'fixings' like yours, Peggy, and a chafing-dish, some ferns, rugs, curtains, pictures, a couch-cover, chairs"—and the girls added one thing and another to the list until it was a very long one. Jean detested shopping, and Anna made a most welcome promise to help her out with the difficulties the following afternoon.

The two juniors were to be busy in the evening, so, left to themselves, Jean and Anna enjoyed a long walk after supper. As they returned across the campus, lights twinkled in the windows of the dormitories, happy voices and the occasional burst of music floated out on the still evening air. Once Anna stood perfectly still for several moments and then exclaimed almost to herself, "Oh, how I love it all! How I wish I were just beginning college! Oh, Ashton, how much you have done for me!"

Then with scarcely a word they approached old Merton and climbed slowly to 45. "I told you, Jean, that before I left I was going to give you a little advice. It's only this, Go slowly, choose the best of everything, make the best of everything and love old Ashton better than anything else in the world."

CHAPTER III
FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Jean awoke with a start and sat straight up in bed. "Don't be alarmed, Jean," said Anna; "it isn't a fire; just the rising bell which rings every morning at ten minutes before seven. There's another one at seven and the breakfast bell at half-past. Of course no one needs forty minutes to dress for breakfast, and before long you will be able to do it in five, or ten at the most. Meals are served promptly here and Mrs. Thompson is very particular about having every one on time. So if you do oversleep I warn you that you'll get no breakfast unless you keep a good supply of food in your room. And there's danger in that, too, for mice fairly haunt these rooms, especially the closets and behind the radiators, for that's a favorite dumping place for crumbs. I remember the winter that our room seemed to be a regular gathering-place for them, and once when I had one of the girls from home out here over night we had a merry chase with five from under our beds before we could get any sleep. One morning not long after that my room-mate found one in her bed when she was making it up. She never knew whether it had been there all night or not, but she very carefully examined her bed ever after that before she got into it.

"Well, suppose we arise and take plenty of time to dress this morning and make our best appearance at the breakfast table. You know first impressions are often lasting and as most of the girls here are upper-class girls I want them to see you at your best. Of course, dear, you always look well; you can't help it any more than you can help breathing, but this is a special occasion. Wear one of those good-looking white linens I saw you hang up in the closet last night. I must say I admire your Aunt Molly's choice of materials and dressmaker, judging from the clothes I've seen so far. You must open the other trunk and show me your best gowns before I depart. And by the way, Jean, that must be to-night. We'll start in town early and have a good afternoon of it and I'll leave you at the North Station on the right train for Ashton. You won't mind the short ride out here alone, will you? I'd love to stay the rest of the week, but you know how little time I have left to finish my preparations for the hospital, and I wouldn't be found deficient for anything.

"Of course you take a cold bath every morning; any one could tell that just to look at you. Well, hustle into the bath-room now, for I just heard some one leave it. When you're finished, please draw the water for me."

As the two girls entered the long dining-room they found most of the seats at table occupied, for they were a bit late in spite of their thirty minutes. However, Mrs. Thompson was always lenient first mornings and greeted them with a pleasant smile. "You will sit at the end of the second table, Miss Cabot, and your cousin may sit beside you this morning, as Miss White, who will have that seat permanently, has not yet arrived."

"Oh, I had hoped that would be my room-mate's seat. Where will she sit?"

"Why, of course you didn't know that Miss Fairfax is to wait on table here and so will not have a regular table seat."

At these words Jean's expression changed and she looked so astonished that Anna said softly, "You know, dear, some of the girls who haven't much money pay their board by waiting on table. Lots of girls do it, and it's perfectly all right. Some of the best girls I ever knew worked their way through college." Jean said nothing, but she was bitterly disappointed. Why couldn't her room-mate have been Miss Remington or some one equally attractive? She was already beginning to wish that she'd been fortunate enough to draw a single room.

If Nan Maitlandt had wished to have her cousin make a favorable impression on the other girls in Merton she certainly succeeded in doing so. Jean was tall and broad-shouldered, with a splendidly developed figure, a perfect picture of health and strength. She had masses of yellow hair which she wore this morning coiled in thick braids round her well-shaped head. Her eyes were dark and her skin, naturally fair, was now somewhat tanned from her out-of-door life. She wore a severe white linen dress with a turned down collar and a bow of black which set off her style of beauty to perfection. She carried herself well and with head held high in the air she had entered the room almost unconscious of its occupants. The girls stared for a moment and then whispered comments on her beauty and wondered who she could be. Mrs. Thompson soon went the rounds of the tables introducing the new girls until at length everybody knew everybody else.

There were about a hundred girls seated at the three long tables and only here and there appeared a vacant seat. At Jean's table there were five freshmen besides herself, and much to her satisfaction she soon discovered her acquaintance of the day before, Miss Remington, half way down the other side of the table. Peggy Allison and her room-mate were at the first table at the opposite end from Jean, but they waved her a hearty welcome, even at that distance. She looked at the girls around her laughing and talking and seeming so perfectly at home and she had to admit to herself that they were a happy lot and if so many girls found college such good fun there ought to be something in it for her. Most of the conversation at her end of the table seemed to be on summer vacations and proposed studies for the coming year. Just beyond Nan sat a freshman named Miss Samson, who after some deliberation found the courage to lean forward a little and ask Jean if she had decided what studies to take. Jean answered cordially in the negative and added that her cousin was to help her choose them later on. She was conditioned in French, so she supposed she'd have to take that, although she hated it thoroughly.

After breakfast the girls collected here and there about the reading-room and halls in little groups. Miss Remington came up at once to where Jean was standing and talked casually about her room and trunks and then asked her how long her cousin would remain with her. Upon hearing that she was to leave that evening she promised to spend the night with Jean, so she wouldn't get lonesome. Jean was delighted, for to herself she admitted that Marjorie appealed much more to her than any of the other girls she had met, excepting, perhaps, Natalie Lawton. She hoped they were going to be good friends even if they were not in the same class.

Registration was to be at ten o'clock and Nan suggested that they go up to 45 and talk over studies before Jean made out her programme. She had arranged some tennis with Peggy and Natalie at ten-thirty and then after lunch they would take the first train for Boston. Nan had been a good, all-around girl in college, but had maintained a high standard in her studies and was anxious to have Jean do the same, but she was discovering that Jean cared very little for her books. Every freshman was required to take English and mathematics and had the choice of the other subjects. As Jean had been conditioned in French her cousin suggested that she begin at once to remove the condition. By satisfactorily completing a course in French at the end of the year this could be done. Jean agreed to this and then after much discussion she decided to add German, oratory and music to the list, with gymnasium work twice a week. Mathematics and German were to come Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings; French and English, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings; oratory once a week on a day to be announced later; "gym" two hours each on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and music two hours a week when she could arrange it with the instructor.

"That looks like a pretty stiff programme to me, Nan," said Jean; "I don't see any time in the week for anything but studying. A girl can't study all the time, you know. I want to do other things, too."

"You will find plenty of time for other things, dear, for this isn't a very hard programme. You will find any number of girls taking more than you have. You'll have every Saturday afternoon free, and generally the girls go in town to the theater that day. Boston always has all the best plays and music and there are Wednesday matinées, too. I don't advise cutting recitations, but once in a while when there's something worth while it won't do any harm. Then, Friday afternoon is Symphony rehearsal, which you must hear once in a while. The faculty very often advise the girls to attend certain performances and are very willing to chaperon them. Speaking of the faculty, I think you are going to enjoy all of yours, for I had them all with the exception of Miss Whittemore, the gym instructor, who is new this year, and I can vouch for them. My advice is to work hard at the beginning of the year, get the principles of the study and a good foundation and the second half-year will come easy. Don't let things slide, for it's awfully hard to make up a lot of work in a short time. If you must cut classes or chapel, cut consistently. To-morrow morning you will meet some of the instructors and have lessons assigned for next week. Things will hardly be in running order before a week, so you can take your own time for a few days. Now we'll start for the office and get registration off our hands. Is your programme written out carefully; ready to pass in to the clerk? Let's stop for the other freshmen on our way downstairs so we can all go together."

Nan and her six charges hurried up the hill as the college clock rang out its ten strokes. The office was crowded and each girl had to pass in single file before the registrar. It took some time for Jean to reach the desk and when at length it was her turn to sign her name to the great book and pass her programme to the waiting clerk she gave a sigh of relief. Now she was a freshman and the year had actually begun, and there was no turning back. Hurriedly the six girls were shown over College Hall and Nan pointed out the mathematics room and then the French room and so on until they all knew where to go on the following days. In one of the rooms on the third floor they met Miss Whiting, and as Nan had always enjoyed her courses in spite of some rather marked peculiarities, she was glad to stop and talk with her and have her know her charges. They talked a few moments, long enough to have her ask the girls if they had yet seen the ivy on the chapel tower. Nan had to admit that as yet they had not, pleading as her excuse that she wished them to see the chapel for the first time the following day at chapel exercises. Remembering her tennis appointment, Nan invited the other freshmen to accompany Jean and herself to the courts, but as they had their rooms to settle and letters to write they returned to the hall.

Soon the two reached the courts and found plenty of girls enjoying the game. They had time for two sets in which Jean showed her skill and she and Nan easily defeated their opponents, causing Peggy to exclaim, "You see, Nat, it's as I said, you'll have to work hard for championship next year."

The afternoon passed all too quickly for Jean. Nan knew just what stores to shop in and just what to buy and before she realized it the long list had been bought and ordered to be sent out to Merton. They had time for tea in a quiet little English tea room which Nan often frequented, and here she told Jean some of her own plans for the future and how she had decided to take up hospital work. Her conversation revealed quite another girl from the light-hearted one of the last two days, and Jean found herself admiring her cousin more than ever.

"You must come in to see me whenever I have time off and you can arrange it. I shall feel the greatest interest in your life at college, for in a way I feel responsible for it. There are many things I might have told you, but I am going to let you meet problems and solve them by yourself. Now we must start for the station or we'll miss the train."

When they reached the station Nan said that she knew they would find friends on the train, but Jean pleaded to be left alone, for she wanted to think things over by herself. Nan stayed until the train pulled out of sight and then gayly started homeward, saying to herself, "I'll bet on Jean every time. She'll have no end of trouble, but she'll come out all right in the end."

When the train drew into the Ashton Station Jean alighted with the others and as she stepped off the train she found Marjorie Remington waiting for her.

"I thought you'd be out on this train, so I came down to meet you." So saying, she put her arm through Jean's in a friendly manner and they started up the hill.

"Supper isn't for half an hour yet; let's take a walk and see the sunset from the hill. I never stay in the 'dorm' when there's any possible excuse for being out of doors. Thank goodness there's no lessons until next week. Have you promised to do anything Saturday afternoon?"

"No," said Jean.

"Well, I want you to spend it with me then in town. I'll get tickets for 'The Spring Maid'; everybody's wild about it. Are you fond of the theater?"

"Yes, but I've never been very often except once in a while with father or one of my brothers. We live some distance out of the city and it's pretty hard getting home after the theater."

"Oh, I'm just crazy over it, and never miss a Saturday afternoon if I can help it."

"I'm going to ask Mrs. Thompson if I can change seats with Miss White and sit next to you at table. I've no use for the girls who sit on either side of me and I'd much rather sit beside you. Let's go to supper now, this walk has made me hungry as a bear. Wait a minute in the hall while I speak to Mrs. Thompson about changing."

When Marjorie returned she looked anything but pleased and exclaimed, "Just like her, says she has assigned the seats and doesn't want to change them even for one meal. Well, I sha'n't tell her that we're going to room together to-night, for I suppose she'd put her foot down on that, too. She's certainly the crankiest individual I ever ran up against."

As the two girls entered the dining-room, arm in arm, several of the older girls smiled and looked knowingly at each other. Peggy Allison seemed a bit worried, as she whispered to Natalie, "Midge Remington's up to her old game again, always appropriating the best-looking girl in the place. We'd better look out or we'll lose this Jean Cabot."

After supper, one of the girls went over to the piano and began playing a dreamy waltz. The chairs were moved to one side and several of the girls began to dance. Natalie came up to Jean and asked her for the waltz. "You'll have to lead, Miss Cabot, you're so tall. Why, it will be almost as good as dancing with a man, you're so big and strong."

"I don't know how to lead, Miss Lawton. I never have danced with girls before."

"Well, I'll show you over here at one side. You'll have to content yourself here dancing with girls, for we only have men on state occasions, which are few and far between." And the two left the others for a little lesson in leading. It did not take Jean long to learn, and soon they were swinging over the floor with the others.

"Why, Miss Lawton," exclaimed Jean as the music stopped, "I wouldn't have believed it could be such fun to dance with girls and lead. Won't she play some more music?"

"Yes, we generally dance half an hour after supper every evening and the girls take turns playing. Will you play for us some times? Nan says you play beautifully. In Merton we believe in making every girl do all she can for the good of the rest. If I don't see you again while you're dancing I want to invite you down to 27 Saturday evening to meet some of my friends and a few of the freshmen. I hope your room-mate will have arrived by that time; if so, please invite her for me, although I shall try to see her myself. Thanks for this splendid dance." And she hastened on to another freshman.

Jean had plenty of opportunities to dance and at the last dance Marjorie Remington came up to her and said, "Now for my turn. I've been waiting patiently all the evening. You seem to be in great demand."

After the dance was finished the two girls went up to Marjorie's room; several of the other girls dropped in and made themselves comfortable in the rather close quarters.

"Have some chocolates, girls," said Marjorie as she passed them a large five-pound Huyler's box. "Wasn't it good of Jack to leave this with me at the train?" Everybody but Jean seemed to know who Jack was, but she asked no questions and the conversation changed from one subject to another. Suddenly there came a knock at the door. As Marjorie opened it the girls saw Mrs. Thompson standing in the hall with a shy, timid girl behind her.

"Is Miss Cabot in your room, Miss Remington? I saw you go up the stairs together. I should like her to meet her room-mate, Miss Fairfax, who has just arrived."

Jean left the room and the merry group assembled there and went somewhat reluctantly into 45. Introductions were soon over and Mrs. Thompson left the two girls together. Jean soon learned that it was Elizabeth's brother who had been ill with typhoid fever, but his condition was so much improved that she was no longer needed at home. She was very tired, for it had been five long weeks that she had helped to care for him, but she felt she must leave for college as soon as possible in order not to miss any more than was absolutely necessary. Could she go to bed at once, she asked, and leave all her unpacking until the next day? Jean helped her as best she could and before long she was sound asleep in the little white bed and Jean stole softly back into Marjorie's room.

The girls had left and she found Marjorie propped up on the couch writing a letter.

"Come right in. I'm only writing to Jack to thank him for the chocolates. Well, isn't it a shame to have our plans for to-night spoiled? What do you think of your room-mate? Isn't she awful? Worse than any of mine. Did you notice her hat? Where do you suppose she hails from? Hard luck for you, that's all I've got to say. Well, make yourself at home in my room any time you want to, whether I'm here or not."

"Yes, she is a disappointment, but perhaps things will look different in the morning. Good night, I guess I'm tired, too," and Jean left the room and was soon sleeping quietly in the other white bed in 45.

CHAPTER IV
THE FRESHMAN RECEPTION

Although Elizabeth was as careful as possible, her moving to and fro between the two rooms awakened Jean, who, after wishing her good-morning, offered to arise and help unpack.

"No, Miss Cabot," replied Elizabeth, "it's only five o'clock; please don't think of getting up yet. I am used to rising early, for I've been up every morning all summer at five. I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Can't you get to sleep again? You know I'm to wait on table this year and Mrs. Thompson wishes me to be in the dining-room at seven to help in setting the table. I thought I would unpack my trunk and suit-case before breakfast, for there will be so much for me to do to-day I probably won't have another opportunity. If you will tell me where to put things I can get right at work now. Would you mind if I called you by your first name, it seems so strange to say 'Miss' to the girl I'm to live with all the year? My name is Elizabeth."

Instantly Jean arose and put on a white silk kimona, splashed with great pink roses, slipped her feet into some dainty pink silk quilted slippers and then led the way into the study, where she sat down in the only empty chair. "Why, of course I want you to call me by my first name, Elizabeth; it's Jean. How do you like the arrangement of the rooms so far? My cousin and two of the juniors helped me with it. It looks very bare, but we bought a lot of things in town yesterday and as soon as they are sent out we can finish settling. That is your desk and bookcase and here is your clothes closet. I borrowed one or two of your hooks, for I couldn't seem to find room enough in my own closet. I'll take the dresses down now and put them back in the trunk."

"Oh, please don't, Jean; all my dresses together won't fill the hooks on one side of the closet. You're welcome to this whole side."

"Thank you. Now you can put your pictures and banners anywhere you choose. We want to make our room as attractive as possible so our friends will be glad to come and see us."

"I'm afraid I haven't many attractive things for the room. I didn't know much about college girls' rooms, and besides if I had known I couldn't have brought them. Father is only a country doctor and could hardly afford to send me to college at all. It will be a struggle to go through the four years, but I mean to do it if hard work counts.

"I've never known a real mother, for two years after mother's death my father married again when I was six and Brother four. Since then we've had a home and that's about all as far as a mother's concerned. Father is away most of the time and doesn't know all that happens during his absence, but we know and never can forget. Fathers don't seem to understand children very well. Perhaps Brother and I have been more to each other than most brothers and sisters, for we had to make up for all that we missed in others. That's the hardest thing for me in coming to Ashton—to leave Brother at home sick with the fever. He means to go to college, too, sometime, and after two years here I hope to be able to teach at home and help him with his education. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, for I guess it doesn't interest you at all."

"Yes, it does, Elizabeth, for my mother is dead, too, and I have five brothers and the best father in all the world, and I'm here to please them, but you can believe I'm going back to them after one year of it."

"What! You could go four years and graduate if you wanted to, and instead you're only going freshman year? Why, I'd give everything in the world if I could go through the four years. I've thought of asking permission to take extra work this year and next, and then if anything should happen that I could come back a third year I could do the four years' work in three and graduate. I want a college diploma so much I'll do anything to get it. But if it's a question of Brother's giving up a year or of my doing so, it will not be he, for it seems as though he were always the one to make the sacrifice.

"Have you decided what you are to take this year? There are so many things I want to take I hardly know what to choose. Tell me your programme. Wouldn't it be fine if we had the same courses, then we could study together?"

"I'm going to take as little as I can, for I hate studying. I think my cousin Nan has made me out too stiff a programme and I'll have to drop something before I flunk out. I want to keep up my music, anyway, and practising does take a lot of time. Besides, I have English and mathematics and German and French and of course oratory and gym, because they're snap courses."

"I shall take Latin instead of your French, but the other subjects are what I want, too. In place of your music I'd like some history, for that's my favorite study. I've read everything I could lay my hands on in the history line and never could get half enough. I've longed for the college library with its rows upon rows of books. If ever I'm missing, be sure to look for me in the library. Do you suppose my being a day late will make any difference with my work?"

"No, child, for all we did yesterday was to register and pass in our programmes. You sent them word that you were delayed at home by sickness in the family and won't be fined, but ordinarily when we fail to register on time we are fined five dollars. To-day we are to go to the classes which usually meet on Friday. I have mathematics at nine and German at ten, and probably you will be in the same divisions. It's mighty hard to think of studying these glorious days. How I'd enjoy a twenty-mile horseback ride over the hills this morning! I wonder where I could hire a horse and if any of the other girls ride."

"Why! you wouldn't cut your recitations the very first day, would you, Jean?"

"No, I suppose not, but I'd like to mighty well. Don't be surprised at anything I ever do. Sometimes I fear I can't stand this living by rules and regulations. I've always done just what I wanted to and when I wanted to, and I shall probably forget to ask permission to do things, especially of other girls. I'm not so sure that I approve of student government."

"Why, it seems to me the fairest way, and I'm sure you will like it after you become used to it. Now that I've finished unpacking I think I'll just write a few lines to Brother, for he'll be waiting very impatiently for my first letter. Can't you go to sleep again?"

"No, I think I'll write letters, too. I haven't had a minute before, and I promised Tom and father faithfully that I'd write to them." And soon the two girls were writing as though their life depended upon it, and did not stop until the rising bell sounded. Elizabeth was as startled as Jean had been on the previous morning, but it did not take long to explain it to her. Soon she started downstairs for her duties in the dining-room, but hesitated a little and said, "Jean, may I go to chapel with you this morning?"

"Yes, we freshmen in the house agreed last night to go together; our seats are to be in the right aisle directly back of the sophs. They say ours is the largest entering class on record, so some of us may have to sit in the annex. Let's go by a quarter-past eight, anyway, so as to be in the main chapel. After chapel exercises I'll take you to the office and help you with your registration."

When the seven freshmen from Merton walked up to chapel, six of them felt very green indeed, but Jean held her head high and displayed her usual composure. But when they took their places with the other three classes and at a given signal rose while the hundred or so seniors in cap and gown marched slowly down the center aisle to their seats on the left, Jean felt for the first time the insignificance of a freshman and wondered just how it would seem to be a senior.

Miss Emerson welcomed the incoming class in such a way that Jean felt drawn to her at once. She was not at all what she had pictured a college president to be, and there was something so sweet and lovable about her that Jean thought she came nearer to the mother she had always pictured to herself than anybody else she had ever seen. Most of the faculty seats were occupied, and Jean noticed that many of the professors were young and good-looking in spite of their degrees and reputed knowledge.

After chapel Jean and Elizabeth hastened to the registrar's office and Elizabeth was enrolled as a freshman. Just as they were leaving the building two seniors in cap and gown stopped them and one of them said, "This is Miss Cabot and her room-mate, Miss Fairfax, is it not? I am Miss Wright and this is Miss Farnsworth. We would like to invite you to be our special guests at the senior reception to the freshmen and faculty on a week from Monday evening in the Gym. You live in Merton, I believe? We will call for you there at about half-past eight."

The two freshmen were glad to accept the invitation, and after a few general remarks about recitations the seniors hurried away.

"Jean, did you notice the little star-shaped pins both of those seniors wore on their shirtwaists? What are they for?"

"I suppose they must be their society pins. Societies are like fraternities in the men's colleges. They are secret organizations, and about twenty-five girls belong to each one. I don't know much about them except what Tom told me."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, "I should like to join one, wouldn't you?"

"I guess it isn't for us to say, Elizabeth. You see, the girls are very particular whom they ask, and only a few are chosen from each class."

"Oh, you'll be chosen, Jean; you needn't worry about that."

"I'm not so sure about it. I suppose it will soon be time for mathematics. O dear, how I dread it! Your division doesn't meet to-day, does it? You ought to be thankful for that. I'm going upstairs now to see where Room 21 is. Good-by; see you later."

At the top of the stairs she met Marjorie Remington, who stopped her. "Oh, Miss Cabot, have you received your invitation to the freshman reception yet?"

"Yes, Miss Wright and Miss Farnsworth just stopped Elizabeth and me downstairs and invited us to go with them."

"Oh, you should feel much honored, for they are two of the most popular girls in the senior class, and Miss Wright is class president. But I think the reception is an awful bore, just standing around and meeting a lot of girls and faculty you don't care anything about, and dancing in between times. Still a freshman makes a big mistake to cut it, and I advise you to go.

"What's your first recitation—can I take you to the class room? There's the bell now. But wait a minute. Here comes a girl I want you to meet. It's Lill Spalding, sophomore basket-ball captain and one of the nicest girls in North Hall. I've invited her in town with us to-morrow."

The three girls became so interested in their plans for the following day that Mathematics I. was almost forgotten, and when Marjorie remembered she was to show Jean the room it was fully five minutes after the hour.

Stopping before a door marked "21" Marjorie said, "Here it is, and Miss Hooper is in charge. Oh, she's fierce; I pity you. I had Miss Baldwin, who's a regular cinch. I'll meet you here at the end of the hour if you like."

As Jean entered the room Miss Hooper was just reading the class list and she heard "Miss Cabot" ring out distinctly in the stillness of the large room.

"Here," said Jean, and she sank into the only vacant chair in the front row directly in front of the desk.

Miss Hooper paused, looked up quickly from her class book and said sharply, "Five minutes late. A very bad beginning, Miss Cabot; remember hereafter, please, that this class meets promptly at nine o'clock."

It was on Jean's tongue to say that she had lost her way, but something restrained her. Miss Hooper explained that the work of the year would be divided into three parts, algebra the first third of the year, geometry the second, and trigonometry the last. The class were to use Wells's College Algebra, which they could buy at the college book-store. The first lesson would be the problems on page 47.

"And now, class, let us spend the rest of the hour reviewing a little. Miss Cabot, you may explain what is meant by the 'binomial theorem.'"

Poor Jean tried to collect her scattered senses enough to answer the question. She remembered there was such a thing as this binomial theorem, but what it was she could not have told had her life depended upon it. After waiting as long as she dared she answered in a low voice, "I do not know." Miss Hooper looked annoyed and repeated the question to Miss Caldow, next on the list, who, to Jean's disgust, jumped on her feet and recited glibly and entirely to Miss Hooper's satisfaction.

"Very well done, Miss Caldow. I see no reason why the entire class should not be perfectly familiar with the theorem. No one can expect to do any kind of work in advanced algebra unless she has a thorough foundation in the elementary work. Miss Cabot, you will please look up the binomial theorem and be prepared to recite it at the next meeting of the class."

Jean thought the hour would never end, but when at last the class was excused she rushed from the room almost into the arms of Marjorie Remington who was waiting for her just outside the door. "Well, honey, how did Mathematics I. go?"

"Terribly. I never want to see Miss Hooper again and I'll not take her old mathematics course another day. I don't know anything about algebra, and she pounced on me first one to explain the binomial theorem, and because I didn't know it she insulted me before the whole class."

"Just like her. Isn't she the most sarcastic person you ever knew? She can say more hateful things in fifteen minutes than any one I know. Why don't you drop mathematics and take something else in its place? You can take it up again next year."

"Next year, indeed; thank goodness I'll be far away from Ashton College by that time! One year's enough for me. But tell me, can I really drop mathematics?"

"Sure you can. I dropped Latin the first day last year and I'm just beginning it again, but I doubt if I ever pass it. All you've got to do is to go down to the office and give some reasonable excuse for dropping mathematics and offer something else in its place. They don't care when you take the required subjects as long as you finish them before senior year."

"But what can I take instead of mathematics?"

"Miss Cushing has a fine course in philosophy first half-year, and psychology second half. It's a lecture course, only her exams are stiff, but if you read up in her book in the library you'll get by all right. If you're only going to be here one year you don't care much for making records, do you?"

"No. Leave that to my room-mate, she's out for real study and nothing else. Aren't we the great combination? But still there's something about her I like; and I pity her, too, for she's had a hard time all her life. I nearly forgot, I have a German recitation now, so I'll have to leave the mathematics proposition until later."

German was delightful, as Fräulein Weimer in her broken English explained the work of the year and then talked to the class in German, telling them stories and quoting poems. Jean felt a little calmer as she left the room, but with the memory of her first recitation still burning in her mind she hurried to the office. She explained to the secretary that she felt so poorly prepared in mathematics that she wished to leave that work until another year and take philosophy in its place. She understood that mathematics, although a required subject, could be taken any one of the first three years. She was given permission to do as she wished, and hastened to Miss Cushing's room to make further arrangements. In the hall she met Miss Hooper, who stopped her and said, "Am I right in understanding that Miss Anna Maitlandt is your cousin? Do tell me where she is and what she is going to do this year. I have wanted to know very much, but have not heard from her all summer."

"Yes," replied Jean, "Miss Maitlandt is my cousin and she was out here on Wednesday and Thursday, but was obliged to return to Framington early because she is to enter the Massachusetts General Hospital the first of October to begin a three-years' training course. She was abroad all summer and only returned last week, so she has a great deal to do in a short time."

"Oh, I am so sorry not to have seen her, for I always enjoyed her so much. What does she mean by burying herself in a hospital? She's altogether too brilliant for that." Just then some one came up to ask Miss Hooper a question and as she excused herself Jean passed on, muttering to herself, "Horrid old thing! I suppose she wants to impress upon me how brilliant my cousin was here. Wait till she misses me in mathematics on Monday and perhaps she'll realize she can't make her cutting, sarcastic remarks to every freshman in college."

The days were full and happy ones, and Monday night arrived with the annual freshman reception. After supper Marjorie Remington went upstairs with Jean and offered to help her dress. "What shall I wear, Marjorie?" said Jean.

"All your dresses are such perfect dreams I don't know which one I like the best. But let me have another look at them. Dangerous business, though, letting me see them, for I may be tempted to borrow some of them one of these days. Now, after all, I think this figured chiffon is the best for to-night, it's so different from anything I have ever seen. I'm crazy to see you in it."

It did not take long for Jean to do her hair and get into the chiffon dress. It was a peculiar chiffon, a light pink background shot with black and pink roses made up over a soft pink silk lining. The dress was low and showed off to advantage Jean's firm white throat and neck, and the sleeves came just above her elbows. The skirt reached only to her ankles and her stockings and slippers were of a delicate pink. Around her neck on a narrow band of black velvet was a small diamond star which sparkled with wonderful brilliancy. "There, will I do?" and she danced over gayly to Marjorie, who lay on the couch as though exhausted after her labors.

"Do? Why you are the most wonderful creature I've ever seen! You'll take everybody by storm. Wait till Jack sees you. I'm going to make him invite us out to his frat's first dance. You see, Jack's at Harvard and knows all the big men in his class. I have the best times in the world whenever I can get out there for anything. The only trouble is it's such awful hard work getting off the hill for the night. One of my aunts lives in Newton and she's perfectly willing to chaperon me or let me stay at her house all night, but she travels so much of the time that she's always away when I want her most. I hate taking one of the faculty with me, for they're such awful sticks. I don't see any need of chaperons anyway, but they'd make an awful fuss out here if a girl went anywhere without them."

Just then the door opened and a cheery voice began, "Have you started dressing yet?" but when the eyes of the speaker fell on the vision of loveliness before her she stopped short and just gazed.

Miss Remington arose, saying, "I guess it's time for me to go, I'm not needed any longer. Hope you'll have a good time, Miss Cabot," and she brushed by Elizabeth and banged the door after her.

"Oh, Jean, have I interrupted you? I didn't mean to. Miss Remington seems to have taken a violent dislike to me. What have I done to her?"

"Nothing, Elizabeth; she doesn't mean anything, but she's rather brusque at times, I guess."

"How beautiful you look, Jean, but I can't go with you. I haven't anything except my graduation dress and you'll be ashamed of me in that."

"Nonsense, child; let me help you dress. You'll be too sweet for words in that dainty white muslin I saw hanging in your closet. Let me do your hair low and tuck this rose at one side; it will bring out the color in your cheeks. And I've a coral pink sash I'm going to drape around your waist and with those coral pink beads father gave me just before I started you'll be a symphony in white and pink."

Indeed she did look sweet in her simple white gown and excitement made her big eyes sparkle more than was their wont. "Do you know, Jean, I've never been to a real big reception like this before. I can't dance, but I shall enjoy just sitting and watching the others. Sometime I hope to learn if I ever have the time. It's only eight now, we have half an hour before the girls will come for us. Let's read over some German. I haven't quite finished the assignment."

"Not to-night, Elizabeth. I'm not in the mood for studying. Perhaps I'll get up early in the morning and read over a little with you. I made a good recitation to-day and that ought to do for a while. I'm going over in Marjorie's room; you can call me when the girls arrive." Elizabeth sat down at her desk to study alone, a little disappointed in Jean, for she knew she had been playing tennis all the afternoon and had made no preparation for the next day. After she had read about three pages a maid announced the arrival of their escorts, so she called Jean and the two girls hastened down the stairs.

It did not take long to reach the Gymnasium, which was ablaze with lights. As they entered the main hall they paused to survey the scene of beauty before them. The massive building was transformed into a vast autumn out-of-doors, for golden rod and purple asters and bright-colored leaves were everywhere. The orchestra was concealed at one end of the hall, and played softly as the seniors introduced their guests to each other and to the faculty.

Jean and Elizabeth were given dance-orders, but Elizabeth timidly said, "I don't dance, Miss Farnsworth."

"That doesn't make a particle of difference, dear; lots of the girls don't, and perhaps you'd like to keep the dance-order as a souvenir for your memorabilia, for of course you will have one; all freshmen do. You will have partners just the same for all the dances and get acquainted just as quickly as though you were on the floor dancing. You must learn to dance as soon as possible, though, for it means so many good times here. Now let us meet the faculty."

Jean felt a little dismayed at the thought of meeting Miss Hooper, but she soon found herself shaking hands with her and heard her say, "Later in the evening, Miss Cabot, I hope I may have the pleasure of eating an ice with you in the faculty alcove. Can you spare me a few moments?"

Jean answered that she would be very pleased to, although she felt she was in for an explanation of her non-appearance in the mathematics class, and dreaded it.

Every member of the faculty seemed to be particularly interested in every freshman who was introduced to her and had something pleasant to say to them all. They seemed to have entirely forgotten their mannerisms and the severity of the class rooms. Jean looked long and earnestly at Miss Emerson and wished she might stand and talk to her indefinitely, but the long line of waiting freshmen pushed her quickly along, and she determined to find time later in the evening to ask her a few questions.

Before long the dancing began and Jean found herself passed on from one girl to another; some who danced well and some who did not; some who did nothing but ask questions; some who persisted in telling their whole family history in five minutes; some tall, some short, some handsome, some homely, but all college girls filled with the spirit of good fellowship. Once or twice she rushed over to where Elizabeth was sitting with whom she had deposited her gloves, fan, handkerchief and dance-order, and usually found her silently listening to the pearls of wisdom which fell from the lips of the senior sitting beside her.

About half-past ten Elizabeth said to her, "Jean, I have just been talking with Miss Hooper and she wishes to know if you will look for her in the faculty alcove after the next dance."

Jean was tempted to ignore the invitation and all through the next two-step turned the matter over and over in her mind and was so absorbed that her partner wondered what the other girls had found so attractive in this good-looking freshman who apparently could not talk. However, when the music stopped Jean said very casually, "Will you please tell me where the faculty alcove is?" and on being shown she very slowly approached the corner. The dim lights revealed Miss Hooper among a pile of cushions. She wondered how she could ever talk to her and what she should say. When Miss Hooper perceived her she called out, "Oh, Miss Cabot, come right in. I have been waiting for you and hoping Miss Fairfax would not forget to deliver my message. Make yourself comfortable here while we enjoy these delicious ices. First, I want to talk to you about your charming cousin. We were interrupted the other day before you had told me half I wanted to know."

Just then every light in the Gymnasium went out and left the place in total darkness and a strong chorus burst into song.

"Oh, you green freshmen, green freshmen, green freshmen;
Oh, you green freshmen, come list to our song.
We're going to haze you, to haze you, to haze you;
We're going to haze you before very long."

Over and over again they sang the lines, louder and louder each time. Red-fire burned outside the building and groups of girls with their hands joined danced wildly around the red lights.

"It's the sophomores," said Miss Hooper; "every year they try to break up the freshman reception. It has become a tradition, but one I believe should be abolished," and she slipped out into the main hall. The seniors found it was impossible to turn on the electricity, but hurried here and there and borrowed enough lanterns from obliging janitors to light the Gymnasium dimly. The music continued and the girls danced as though nothing had happened and thought it all the more fun to disappoint the sophs, who imagined the dance would be given up when the lights gave out. Partners had claimed Jean, and the dreaded interview with Miss Hooper ended almost where it had begun. At length the dancing stopped and after the good nights had been said Jean and Elizabeth and the two seniors wended their way homeward.

"What a mean thing it was to break up your reception," said Elizabeth to Miss Farnsworth.

"Oh, it wasn't wholly unexpected," she replied; "there is always great rivalry between the two lower classes and one never can tell when it will break out. You'll find this is only the beginning. Be on the watch, but take everything that's done in good spirit, for you must remember you'll be sophs next year and can pay it all back on the next entering class."

Soon they reached Merton Hall and found other freshmen saying good night to their escorts. Soon the great outer door was closed and the weary freshmen started upstairs. When Elizabeth and Jean reached 45 they found the door locked and on it a piece of paper which they tore down and carried over to the hall light to read. These words met their astonished gaze:

"Oh, you green freshmen, green freshmen, green freshmen,
Oh, you green freshmen, pray don't try your door.
We'll give you a mattress, a mattress, a mattress,
We'll give you a mattress, to sleep on the floor."

"Well, I must say I think this is carrying things altogether too far," said Jean indignantly. "Who ever heard of sleeping on the hall floor?"

By this time the other freshmen had joined them, reporting similar experiences at their rooms. One girl came down from the fifth floor, whispering, "Isn't this the limit! In front of my door is a double mattress spread on the floor with a blanket or two over it. Come upstairs, all of you and let's make ourselves as comfortable as we can and to-morrow we'll begin to plan our revenge on the sophs."

Jean was the most reluctant to go, and as she followed the others down the hall she cast one look over at 47 and said, "And to think she pretended to be my friend!" Then an idea seemed to come to her and she said, "Wait a minute girls; of course some of the seniors are up, so we can put our good clothes in their rooms and borrow some kimonas. But even if they want us to sleep in their rooms let's not accept their invitations. Let's drag that mattress down from fifth and put in front of some soph's room, say Marjorie Remington's, as close as possible to the door and give her a big surprise when she tries to walk out to-morrow morning."

The girls laughed at the thought of the joke and hurried to the rooms of the seniors to tell them what the sophs had done and to ask them for help in carrying out Jean's bright suggestions. Before long they had carried down everything the sophs had left them on fifth floor to 47 and worked so carefully that no one heard them. Then the seven girls lay down on the mattress very near together to be sure, and were soon asleep forgetting the cares of their little world.

CHAPTER V
INITIATION

It did not take very long for Jean and Elizabeth to find out a great deal about the secret societies at Ashton, much to the satisfaction of one and the keen disappointment of the other. There were five in all, the Beta Mu, the Kappa Alpha, the Sigma Delta, the Phi Beta, and the Gamma Chi. Each had from twenty to twenty-five members, chosen from the four classes; each had its club room and its society pin, which was always in evidence on the left side of the girls' waists. The first days of college the society was in the background as college came first and then class, but as matters became adjusted and the girls settled down to the routine of regular life, this factor came into evidence.

It was pretty generally conceded that the two most desirable societies were the Gamma Chi and the Sigma Delta, and both were eager to obtain Jean Cabot as one of their members. However, the membership of the two was entirely different; to the former belonged Peggy Allison, Natalie Lawton, Dorothy Wright and Frances Farnsworth, girls with a serious purpose in college but still finding time for plenty of fun; to the latter belonged Midge Remington, Lill Spalding, Lena Jameson and Gerry Fairbanks, girls with plenty of money and clothes and a desire for athletic honors and good times foremost, with scholastic efforts in the background.

Rushing had begun early, and although at first Jean had not realized why so many girls had been so kind to her, it flashed over her all of a sudden that it had all been with the purpose of finally winning her to their particular society. Nothing definite had been said, and she had not been invited to join one or the other but she felt that it was only a matter of time. She had been to walk, to drive, to the theater, to lunch, rowing on the lake; had played tennis with the best players college afforded, had been to "hoodangs," first in one girl's room and then in another's, to tea at the Inn, home for week-ends with the girls who lived near by—one pleasant thing after another until she began to tire of so much attention and decided to accept no more invitations until she had had a breathing spell. One thing had troubled her at first, but she soon became used to the fact that Elizabeth had not been invited to many of the good times and often watched her depart with a look upon her face which seemed to say, "Why does she have everything and I nothing?"

One Saturday towards the end of October both girls had been invited down to Peggy Allison's room to a Gamma Chi "hoodang" or rushing-party. It was one of the few invitations in which Elizabeth was included and she had counted on it for many days. At noon she said to Jean, "What time shall we go to Miss Allison's room to-night?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Elizabeth, but you'll have to go with one of the other girls for I've promised to walk with Marjorie and Lill Spalding to Tramp's Rock this afternoon and have tea at the Inn on our return. I'll be back about eight or thereabouts and go directly to Peggy's room so I'll see you there surely. What are you going to do this afternoon?"

"I don't know now, I had hoped that you and I could do something; we haven't had a single Saturday afternoon together yet. Isn't the college library open Saturday afternoons and evenings? Perhaps I'll go over and read a little while the last part of the afternoon."

Jean and her friends enjoyed every minute of the afternoon and just before they were ready to start back home Marjorie said to Lill, "I'm going to take Jean round the other side of the Rock for a few moments; you can sit and gaze at the clouds until we come back again if you want to."

After they had walked a few moments Marjorie said, "Jean, I've been appointed a committee of one to invite you to become a member of Sigma Delta society. We have some of the best girls in college among our members as you have had an opportunity to see for yourself. You know what our girls have done in athletics and in social activities and we want you to be one of us. Here is a bow of blue ribbon and if you decide to become a member of Sigma Delt you will wear this ribbon Monday to chapel and to all your recitations during the day. Then all the other girls will see what you have chosen and from then on you will be ours and they will let you alone. I'm pretty sure you've made up your mind already, but I can't ask you to commit yourself until Monday. Now we'll go back for Lill and then start for the Inn."

It was considerably after eight when Jean knocked upon Peggy Allison's door and at the pleasant "Come in" entered the room and found herself the last arrival, for some twenty upper-class girls with ten or twelve freshmen were packed closely in the room and the one adjoining which had been loaned by an accommodating sophomore.

"Why, where's your room-mate, Miss Cabot?" sang out one of the girls.

"Oh, isn't she here? She said she was coming, but I haven't seen her since dinner for I was away all the afternoon and had supper at the Inn. Didn't she wait on table? I'll run upstairs and see if she's forgotten to come. That hardly seems possible, though, for she has been counting on this so long."

When Jean returned she reported that Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen, although her hat and coat were on the couch where they had evidently been thrown in haste and her white party dress still hung in the closet in its accustomed place. "I'm going downstairs to ask Mrs. Thompson if she knows whether Elizabeth was at supper, or excused for some reason." But Mrs. Thompson said that she had been at supper as usual and she knew nothing further of her whereabouts. Next, Jean hastened to the register in the reading-room and found no record of Elizabeth's leaving the dormitory. Perhaps Mary Boynton, the general proctor of Merton for student government, would have some explanation for her, so she hurried to 34, but Miss Boynton knew nothing about the girl and in despair she returned to 27.

"Oh, hasn't she come yet? I've been everywhere I can think of and nobody knows anything about her. Where can she be?"

"Now, Jean, calm yourself," said Natalie, "perhaps she's visiting some of the girls in another house and has forgotten all about us. We'll wait until nine o'clock and then if she hasn't put in an appearance we'll organize a searching-party. Come, girls, pass those candies to Jean before they're all eaten up. Can't you see she's waiting for them?"

But Jean didn't seem to enjoy the candies or the other things which circulated round about her. She seemed, somehow, above the happiness of the occasion to see the disappointed look on Elizabeth's face when at noon she had told her she could not go to the party with her, and above the voices of the others she seemed to hear Elizabeth's trembling voice saying that she would spend the half-holiday in the library. It had seemed so ridiculous to Jean then to think of spending unnecessary time in the library among dry old books. But perhaps Elizabeth had gone to the library; they could ask the librarian.

It seemed to Jean as though nine o'clock would never strike, every step in the hall must be Elizabeth's but still she did not come and at last Jean burst out, "Girls, I'm sorry to break up your little party but I can't stand it another minute. I've just got to do something. Will two or three of you come with me while I get Mary Boynton and Mrs. Thompson and with them we can go to all the dormitories and ask if she is in any of the girls' rooms? It doesn't seem probable, for she has hardly any friends outside of Merton, but I think it's the best thing to do. Each of us can take a dormitory and report at College Hall. I'll go to Wellington, Peggy can take East, Natalie, West, Miss Boynton, North, and Emily Sanderson, South. Mrs. Thompson can wait at College Hall so in case any of you girls here at Merton see Elizabeth or hear anything about her you can tell her. I'm going down now for Mrs. Thompson; and, Natalie, will you get Mary Boynton? Don't stop to change your gowns, for we mustn't lose a minute's time. Put on your sweaters and let's start at once."

It was after ten o'clock when the little group finally met again at College Hall and the matter began to look so serious that the girls hardly knew what to do. Although they had searched the dormitories very carefully not a trace could they find of the missing girl. Finally Jean said, "Where does Miss Clarkson, the librarian, live?"

"Somewhere off the hill, Jean," answered Peggy. "We could find out from some of the faculty."

"No," said Jean, "if she isn't on the hill it won't do any good to try to find her. I wanted to ask her if she remembered seeing Elizabeth in the library to-day. I wonder how we could get into the library? What time does it close on Saturdays?"

Mary Boynton replied that Saturday evening was the only one of the week when it was open. She thought this was until half-past eight, and suggested that probably if they could find the janitor he would let them into the building.

"But why should you think Elizabeth is in the library? Wouldn't she go out with the others when it closed?" asked Mary.

"Yes, I should think so," said Jean, "but there's nowhere else to look and if she isn't there I give up the search. I'm going to run over to Miss Emerson's a moment to ask her how we can get into the library. You people start in that direction and I'll be with you in a few moments."

Jean fairly tore over the campus and gave Miss Emerson's bell a vigorous pressing. There were no lights at the front of the house but after a little while Miss Emerson herself appeared at the door. "Why! good evening, Miss Cabot, what can I do for you so late at night? Come right into my study for it's a little chilly here. My maid has retired but I was looking over an address I am to give next week in Chicago."

"Oh, no, thank you, Miss Emerson, I can't sit down. My room-mate, Elizabeth Fairfax, is missing and we have looked everywhere for her but can't find her. I want to look in the library before we give up the search for the last time I saw her, this noon, she told me that she might go down to the library to read. How can I get into the library to-night?"

"Now, my dear child, do calm yourself. It is rather late to disturb the janitor but I will take my keys and go with you and probably we can find the night-watchman and he will assist us. Just step into the hall while I get my coat and hat."

It seemed an interminable time to Jean before Miss Emerson returned, but at last they started out. Miss Emerson talked constantly on subjects entirely foreign to the matter of the lost girl, and Jean wondered how she could possibly think of such trivial things, much less talk about them. When they reached the little group in front of the library Miss Emerson was the only calm one among them and she quietly wished each one a good-evening and then started up the library steps. With a small electric bulb which she held in her hand she easily fitted the key into the lock and opened the great outer doors. Then it was an easy matter to spring open the inner doors and press the electric button which flooded the foyer with brilliant light. Calling the girls to her she said, "We will take different sections of the building to explore, and if one of us discovers Miss Fairfax we will let the others know." Each girl then took an alcove and began the search. Jean went straight to the alcoves belonging to the history department. Here she called softly, "Oh, Elizabeth, are you there?" but no response came, and she went away down into the last alcove calling again and again softly, "Oh, Elizabeth, Elizabeth." At last she heard the sleepy reply, "What is it, Jean? Here I am." And Jean switched on another light and saw her room-mate lying on the floor with her head on a great book apparently as comfortable as she would have been in her own bed in Merton.

Jean went out into the main corridor and shouted, "Oh, girls—Miss Emerson—come here! I've found her." And then returning to Elizabeth she said, "Why, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you all over college, and I've been nearly frightened to death about you."

When Elizabeth saw Miss Emerson and Mrs. Thompson and all the girls, she looked anxiously from one to the other and said, "Oh, I am very sorry to have caused so much trouble, I didn't think I was of enough account ever to be missed by any one, least of all by you, Jean."

"Oh, Elizabeth, how can you say that?" said Jean as she helped her to arise. "Now sit down here on this chair and tell us how you happened to be here. You didn't do it on purpose did you, Elizabeth, because I—"

"Why, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you all over college."—Page 90.

But Elizabeth interrupted her with, "Oh, Jean, thank you so much for wanting to find me! It's worth all the rest. I don't see how it could have happened—unless when I get to reading history I forget everything else in the world. About four o'clock I went into the history alcove and took down a volume on Queen Elizabeth's reign and began to read. When I was about half way through the third chapter, Betty Winship, who went down with me, told me it was a quarter of six. I knew I was due at Merton at six but I had reached the most interesting account of Elizabeth's education. I slipped a corner of my handkerchief into the book and put it carefully back on the shelf, deciding to go back after supper and just finish the chapter before I got ready for Peggy's party.

"I hurried back as soon as I had eaten my supper and began reading again about Elizabeth. I suppose I must have forgotten everything else in the world, for the first thing I knew every light in the building went out. I called as loud as I could but no one answered me, and for a moment I was frightened. It was so dark I could not find the electric light switches and the windows were too high even to hope to reach. I made up my mind there was nothing to do but stay here until morning when perhaps I could hail a passer-by."

"But Elizabeth, didn't you know it was Saturday night and the library wouldn't be opened again till Monday morning?" said Jean. "Just think what might have happened if you couldn't have found some one to open the door. You'd have almost starved in there alone. I guess very few of the girls ever go by the library on Sundays. Isn't it lucky we came here to-night?"

"I didn't think about that. I forgot it was Saturday and thought of course it would open early the next morning. I was tired and as I could find nothing else for a pillow I took the book in my lap and laid my head on that. Of course floors aren't the softest beds in the world, but I must have fallen asleep, for I don't remember anything else until I heard Jean calling to me. I'm so sorry to have caused so much worry and trouble. I didn't dream any one would ever miss me," and the tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Miss Emerson put her arm around Elizabeth and led her out into the foyer, followed by the rest of the little procession. "Miss Cabot," she said, "will you please put off the lights and after we are all out, close the door; it locks itself. Thank you very much."

Soon Elizabeth had regained her usual good spirits and walked up the Row with Mary Boynton and Peggy Allison, followed by the others, with Jean and Miss Emerson in the rear. "Thank you so much, Miss Emerson, for coming with me and helping us to-night," said Jean, but Miss Emerson replied, "I think it is you who ought to be thanked. Without your good work Miss Fairfax would have remained all night in the library and doubtless would have caught a severe cold, to say nothing of a nervous shock. She does not look very strong, but what an interesting little room-mate she must be!"

Jean was thankful that they reached Miss Emerson's house just then in time to save her the humiliation of having to reply that as yet she really hadn't had much time to find out anything interesting about her room-mate.

It did not take long to reach Merton and disperse for the night. As they were going upstairs Peggy Allison said, "Oh, Jean, after you have taken Elizabeth upstairs would you mind coming down in my room for just a moment?" Jean replied that she would, although she was so tired that it seemed as though she could not wait another moment to get into bed. She threw her things on the couch, stumbled over her waste-basket, groped her way down the stairs and knocked timidly at Peggy's door.

"Come in, Jean," said Peggy. "Sit down just for a moment. It's too bad our party wasn't the success we hoped it would be but I want to tell you that I think what you have done was splendid. We never would have found her if it hadn't been for you. But there's something else I want to tell you to-night. I had intended to earlier in the evening but really I couldn't find an opportunity until now. We, that is, the Gamma Chis, want you to become one of our members. Monday is pledging day and here is a bow of green ribbon; if you decide to join us you will wear this little bow pinned on the left side of your shirt-waist and that will show the other girls that you belong to us. Wear it to chapel in the morning and to recitations all day. You will not be the only girl with a bow of colored ribbon on, for every society will have invited girls to do the same as I have you. You know our girls; you've met them all, and by this time know whether you like us or not. I've wanted you for one of our members since the first day I saw you on the train at New York, but I realize others have desired you, too. We do have good times together, and you won't make a mistake if you join Gamma Chi. I'll be watching to see you enter chapel Monday morning and I hope we win. There, I won't keep you another minute to-night. Good night, dear. Remember, whichever way you choose, it can't make a particle of difference in our friendship. We can always be good friends even if we're not sisters. Can you see your way upstairs? The lights have been out for hours."

When Jean reached her room she switched on the light and walked over to her somewhat disordered desk. She swept the books and papers off and placed the two bows of ribbon, the green and the blue, side by side on the cleared space and contemplated them for a moment. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door and she found Marjorie Remington just outside.

"Let me in for just a moment," whispered Marjorie; "put out your lights for it's late. Tell me what all this excitement's about. I didn't get back from Lill's room till almost ten and every one was talking about Elizabeth's being lost and all you people out hunting for her. Where did you find her?"

Jean related the incident as briefly as possible, and when she had finished Marjorie said, "And you did all that for that insignificant little freshman? I thought you never bothered your head about her except for German translations? You're easy, that's all I've got to say. I'm dead for sleep, so good night," and she stole quietly back to her room. As Jean went over to her desk and put on the lights again she looked at the two bows on the desk and smiled down at them without saying a word.

Monday morning Jean arose before Elizabeth and went out to the desk to do a little studying before breakfast. She had been translating her French for about a half-hour when two telegrams were brought to her room. Frightened, she tore open the envelopes and read first,

"Is it to be cousin or sister?
"Anna Maitlandt."

And then,

"I bet on the 'Wearing of the Green.'
"Thomas Cabot."

She smiled as she read them a second time, and then wondered how Tom and Anna had ever guessed.

Jean purposely avoided Elizabeth that morning and hurried to chapel alone. When she took her usual seat she felt as if every eye was upon her. She tried not to look conscious, but she felt that she failed in the attempt. It took only a moment to see that she wore the bow of green, and joy reigned among the Gamma Chis and sorrow among the Sigma Delts.

It was about two weeks after Pledging Monday that Jean was told to be ready on Wednesday, November twelfth, for her initiation into Gamma Chi. At half-past eight she reported at Peggy Allison's room where she was blindfolded and wrapped in a long black cape. It seemed to her that she was led miles and miles by a guard on either side who spoke never a word. Finally they reached what appeared to be a subterranean passage which led into a cold, damp cave. Jean was commanded to fall upon her knees and raise her right hand and swear by all the sacred spirits of the past to be true forever to Gamma Chi. Then there arose a most dismal wail from the spirits of the past, and Jean in fear and trembling promised all that was asked of her.

"Will you wear for evermore the insignia of Gamma Chi?" said a sepulchral voice.

"I will," said poor Jean.

"Then stretch forth thy good right arm that we may bare it to the elbow. Here let us imprint our emblem," and Jean shuddered as the red-hot brand traced out the figures on her arm. She wondered why she did not scream out, and although she had never fainted in her life she felt at this moment as though she were about to fall to the floor.

Just then the handkerchief was torn from her eyes, a hearty laugh came from the girls and Jean found herself in the cellar of the dormitory which the girls had borrowed for the occasion. She looked down at her bared arm and then at Peggy, who stood before her with a pointed piece of ice still in her hands.

"You're a brick, Jean. It's no fun trying to haze you; why didn't you scream or do something exciting? Well, you have been so good about this part that we'll take you up to society rooms without any more delay."

When they reached the rooms which were on the upper floor of a private residence a little distance from the college buildings they found all the girls chatting merrily and laughing over the evening's adventures. Soon, however, they proceeded to serious matters, and the five freshmen and one sophomore were initiated into the noble society of Gamma Chi. As it was then, and still is, a secret society, it would not be fitting to divulge the mysteries which were revealed to the wondering six. Suffice it to say that in due time the serious business ended, the eating began, and such quantities of food as those thirty girls consumed! At length, however, they were satisfied and arose and forming a circle they joined hands and sang: