Jane Allen, Junior Part 24

Shirley was powerful and forceful, with that unruly aggressiveness conspicuous in young children, when the weakness is cla.s.sified as "having their own way" before twelve years, and as "being capable"

after that--the latter faculty true fruit of the former germ. So it was with this country girl; her very crimes were molding into virtues, and that again proves a world old philosophy.

"Your hair is very becoming that way," ventured the blonde Sally, whose own hair was always a most exacting halo--Sally had to live up to it. "And you don't mind being called Bobbie?"

"I like it," answered Shirley. "I suppose you know what a time I had to get the wig back to hair after the treatment. I am positive that east side French woman was trying an experiment on my poor head. But among other things the accident did for me, it gave my hair a chance to shoot." She ran her long fingers through the rather stubby growth that had taken on a decided unruliness in splendid imitation of curl. "You see it was rubbed every day, and that charitable nurse rubbed curl right in it. I just love it and wouldn't interfere with it for anything. Curling hair artificially, I know, simply makes it cranky."

"Yes, spoils its temper and breaks its character. Just like twisting a tender vine and forcing it to turn away from its chosen paths. How are you getting on with your cramming? Can I help you?" asked Sally, diverging suddenly.

"Hopeless," replied the other. "I don't believe I'll wait to face the music."

"Oh, you must, Miss Allen is so interested----"

"That's the hard part of it now. I can't face Miss Allen. She's such a good sport." The bobbed brown head was suddenly dropped into her cupped hands reflectively. "You see, at first, Kitten, I was just a rebel; satisfied to get in here and to have the name of it. Then, these girls whom I so despised were so fine to me," again the look of dejection, "and, girlie, when I lay on my back at the foot of that hill and Jane Allen whispered 'Shirley' into my buzzing ears-- it did something to me." Her companion allowed the pause to act without venturing to interrupt it. It was the working of the miracle! "Yes, and she meant it, too," went on Shirley reflectively. "No silly stuff just because she feared I was done for. She and big, brown-freckled Dozia just seemed to drag me back to earth, while the other!" her eyes blazed. "Do you know why I have never spoken of my companion on that hateful ride?"

"No--I've wondered?"

"I've been ashamed to," declared Shirley, "and thankful the juniors who helped me did not torture me with questions. Well--she was that foreign element with a name like a crocheted alphabet and a face like a week old Easter egg--running its colors, you know. Dol has her down from New York to practice for the stage," this thought revived Shirley's spirits and she gave a gay howl. "I can see why she needs the woods to practice the yells she's cultivating," a foot was kicked out at the thought. "But I'm through with them, Kitten, but please don't think I've reformed," she gasped. "I despise turncoats and--traitors."

Shirley wore an angora tarn, leaf green sweater and big plaid golf skirt just then. No one in Wellington could have criticised her outfit. Even her attire seemed benefited by the miracle.

"Bye-by, little sister," she addressed Sally. "This experience has done something else for me other than opening my stupid eyes--it has given me a real chum."

And she got away before Sally could answer.

CHAPTER XX

TOUCHSTONE

"Have you noticed, Judy," asked Jane, "what a miraculous improvement is manifest in our two pet freshies? To wit: Sally and Shirley."

"Yes," snapped Judith, "and I've noticed something else. You are apt to fall in love with the rebel."

Jane laughed. She was looking so lovely after a wild time in the pool, and a girl who can look well after a swim is surely very pretty. But Jane's hair loved the water, and a flash of sunshine after it just whipped the little ringlets into flossy tangles. Then her eyes always danced from excitement, and her agile form just vibrated energy. Don't blame Jane for this description--it is given through Judy's eyes, whose hair went stringy, whose eyes went blinky, and who actually turned "goose flesh" from a pool swim in December.

"No," said Jane, "I couldn't really love a girl who has been so temperamental, but I could tolerate her, and that's a concession."

"If I don't rub down quickly I'm afraid these goose fleshings will freeze into pebbles. I fee like a big stone as it is," said Judith, shivering, chattering and turning bluer. "Wait for me in the run; I want to talk to you."

The "run" was that part of the gym kept clear for free exercise and was used especially by such students as demanded a subst.i.tute for the "beach run in the sand" after swimming. Also, it gave s.p.a.ce for track work, although the open season for cross country runs was rarely closed at Wellington.

Jane was dressed and out before Judith appeared. It was Sat.u.r.day again, a free day; free from study but simply crowded with other contingencies. Students were knotted together, ready for basketball, golf, handball and all other forms of exercise, not to omit the dress rehearsal at dancing already well under way in a corner clear of apparatus and ropes. Here girls were dreamily dancing who knew how to dance well, while others were showing steps to companions and comparing notes on new dances, as applied from various sections of the country. What Boston had last year, Chicago was disclaiming as too old; and again there was Maud Leslie from Jersey actually teaching Nellie Saunders from Buffalo the Drop Step.

Inez Wilson was endangering her life and limb "toeing" and each time she pirouetted on those toes, without the usual padding of the oriental shaped supports, a perfect flock of other dancers slid from danger of her avalanche.

"You'll skid, Ina!" yelled Nellie Brocton. "Besides, this dance isn't going to be for soloists," and Nettie swung away with Janet, crooning and humming to the imaginary orchestra.

Judith came out from the lockers, a challenge now to the effects of her long swim. True, her hair was wispy, and every snap on her blouse had not joined its partner, but taking her all in all Judith Stearns "looked dandy" and said she felt just like that.

"I'm too lazy to run," she told Jane, "besides, my shoe laces would trip me. I'm plenty warm and proof positive against getting cold.

Sit down while I tie my shoes."

"See Shirley and Sally practicing," remarked Jane indifferently.

"I don't want to!" retorted Judith. "Jane, I'm alarmed and I know your sinister motive. You have heard Teddy is coming to the dance!"

"No!" gasped Jane, unable to hide her surprise.

"There, I knew you would take it that way. But be warned! Teddy is to be my partner for as many dances as his sister can spare," and Judith tucked a wad of shoestring in at her ankles as if the pocket were in a commodious knitting bag instead of a tennis shoe.

"I hope he's fat and awkward and red headed and clumsy," snapped Jane, tearing off the qualifications like coupons.

"And I know he's tall and graceful and has chestnut hair," fawned Judith. "I've loved Ted from the moment I saw how he curls his cross letters like a riding crop. That's always a sign of originality and genius." There was a hint of strut in Judith's ordinarily graceful motion, and tiny drops of pool water flicked her eyelashes unnoticed. When Judith Stearns professed to "love a boy" she did so heroically, though he be myth or just an ordinary "full back."

Jane made her way over to the dancers' corner. Shirley was howling over her own failure at the Drop Step. She choked back her uproariousness as Jane came along.

"Can't do it," she confessed. "Guess I shall have to stick to 'One Steps.'"

"Every fault is an art at the big dance," said Jane. "It's the one chance we have to stand by our home towns; we all seem to dance so differently. But that's very good, Shirley. I wouldn't give it up if you really want to get it. There's just a queer little knack this way." She threw her arm around the novice and led her off. Judith had condescended to follow Jane up and was now talking to Sally.

For the length of the "arena" Jane and Shirley struggled along, chatting and smiling without restraint or self-consciousness. Girls "made eyes" in criticism, but none ventured to shape their criticism into words, for the rebel Shirley was doing pretty well in everything these days, and why should not a junior take her up if she wished to?

At the turn Shirley drew Jane aside from the dancers and said in an undertone:

"Miss Allen, I do wish you could persuade little Kitten--I mean Sally, to come to the dance. First, I was determined not to go and she persuaded me. Then I found she herself had no idea of attending.

Of course it's always a question of clothes!"

"Surely we must insist on her coming," said Jane decisively. "But it is awkward to get around clothes. You know her so well, can you suggest a way?" Jane dared not hint that she would ask nothing better than providing the dance dress for little Sally herself.

"She is so proud, and then lately she has had reverses," said Shirley gently. "But if she doesn't go I simply won't. Nothing could induce me to," and she flashed through with her old time defiance.

"But this one dance is counted the real get-together of the whole year," argued Jane. "When a girl absents herself it usually sort of disqualifies her for all the other affairs. Besides, it is really a benefit and we do so need a new dormitory."

"If we could smuggle a box to her and pretend---Here she comes! I'll think it over and come for advice if I may," said Shirley quickly.

Jane stepped back to the dancers' whirling rim. She was almost deciding that the country girl was charming! But like the country girl herself, Jane detested "reformers" and was unwilling to admit that a change of heart is something wholesome and even commendable.

She knew naught of the miracle.

More puzzled than ever at Shirley's proposal that they "smuggle a box to Sally," Jane became anxious lest Shirley might be getting funds from some unusual, if not unlawful, source. The malicious influence of Dol Vin was ever a disturbing factor to be reckoned with, and as yet Jane had no way of knowing that the confidential relation between the two freshmen and the beauty parlor proprietor had been broken off.

Later that day Jane confided in Judith.

"What would I do if I had no Judy to tell my troubles to," she said with a show of sincerity. "You may talk about new loves, but there is, and only will be, one darling Judy."

"Don't kiss me," protested Judy, although Jane was on the other side of the room and gave no hint of any such intention. "I can't bear being babied--makes me homesick." Then she laughed and blew a subst.i.tute over to Jane. "Have you seen my dance frock? I know Ted will adore it. Even the box is pretty and has violets on the cover,"

she sniffed. "I'll try it on tonight--not the box--and make believe you're Teddy."