Marjorie Dean, College Sophomore Part 7

Marjorie felt an imperative tug at her arm. "Who are those girls? They came from that private car. They are so much like my dear pals at Welden." Elizabeth Walbert's babyish features were alive with animation.

"They are juniors. I have met a few of them. I can't really say that I have an acquaintance with any of them." Marjorie could think of nothing else to say of the Sans. She did not care to go into detail regarding them.

"We go down those steps over there to reach the yard where two of my friends have parked their cars," she continued, with intended change of subject. Her companions were already moving toward the flight of stone steps. Miss Walbert still stood watching the approaching company of smartly-dressed girls.

"Pardon me. What did you say?" The absorbed freshman spoke without looking at Marjorie. "I think I have met one or two of those girls.

Summer before last, at Newport, I met a Miss Myers and a Miss Stephens.

We had quite a lot of fun together one afternoon at a tennis tournament.

Yes, I am sure those are the same girls. I met them afterward at a dinner dance."

By this time the party had come within a few feet of where Marjorie and her annoying freshman find were standing. Marjorie felt the warm color flood her cheeks as a battery of unfriendly eyes was turned upon her.

Her chums had already disappeared down the stairway, unaware that she had been left behind. She could hardly have conceived of a more disagreeable situation. Miss Walbert, however, was quite in her element.

She had done precisely what she had intended to do.

"Excuse me, I must really speak to my friends. I'll probably go on to the college with them. Thank you so much."

With this Miss Walbert stepped hurriedly forward and addressed Joan Myers. "How do you do? You are Miss Myers whom I met at the Newport tennis tournament, I believe. So surprised to see you here and so pleased."

Joan Myers stared hard at the speaker before replying. She recognized her as the girl she had met at Newport on the occasion mentioned. She also recalled the second meeting at the dance and acted accordingly.

"How are you?" she returned affably, extending her hand. "Of course I remember you. Strange I can't recall your name. I met you at the Newport tournament and afterward at Mrs. Barry Symonds' dance. Are you going to enter Hamilton? So pleased, I am sure. Won't you join our party? You seem to be--er--well out of your proper element." Joan added this with insulting intent.

Marjorie had stepped back as Miss Walbert had stepped forward. Her first impulse, in consideration of the cavalier dismissal she had received, had been to turn and walk away. Courtesy prompted her to wait a moment, thus making sure the freshman was accepted as an acquaintance by Joan Myers and Harriet Stephens. She had barely turned away as she heard Joan Myers say, "Won't you join our party?" She could, therefore, hardly help hearing the remark which followed.

She went without attempting even a farewell nod. She was not hurt over the ill-bred manner in which she had been treated. She was disgusted with the other girl's utter shallowness. She was also visited by a sense of dull disappointment. Hurrying to overtake her own party, she discovered she was still carrying the freshman's golf bag. In the annoyance of the moment she had forgotten all about it. Bravely she decided to return it at once and have it off her hands immediately. She was half way down the steps when she made this resolve. She quickly remounted the stairs. From the top step she could see the Sans, standing where she had left them. Four or five juniors whom she had seen on the platform before the train came in, were with them now.

"Is this the way to the station yard?" inquired a soft little voice at her elbow. "Can I get a taxi there that will take me to Hamilton College?"

Marjorie turned quickly to meet the questioning gaze of two velvety black eyes. The owner of the soft voice and black eyes was a girl no taller than Vera. She had a small, straight nose and a red bud of a mouth. Her hair, under the gray sports hat which matched her suit, was a blue black, so soft as to be almost feathery. As she surveyed the pretty stranger, Marjorie's recent pang of disappointment left her. Here, at least, was a freshman more after her own heart.

CHAPTER VII.

THE SANS' NEW RECRUIT.

"If you will wait just a moment or two I will show you the way to the station yard. I am Marjorie Dean, of the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s. I am down here today purposely to help incoming freshmen. I had one in tow a few minutes ago, but she met some acquaintances of hers and joined them. I carried off her golf bag and must return it. She is over there."

Marjorie nodded toward the group. "Pardon me. I'll return instantly."

"Thank you, ever so much. I shall be glad to wait for you," sweetly responded the newcomer. "I am Barbara Severn, of Baltimore."

Marjorie stopped to acknowledge the introduction, then onerous as was the task, she went staunchly to it. Luckily for her, Miss Walbert stood at the edge of the group, momentarily neglected by her chosen acquaintances. They were busily engaged with their junior cla.s.smates.

"Here is your golf bag, Miss Walbert. I forgot to give it to you when I left you." Her tone evenly impersonal, it carried a note of reserve which the other caught.

"Oh, thank you. I--that is--I forgot about it, too." She attempted a smile as she reached out to take it from Marjorie's hands.

"You are welcome." A slight inclination of the head and Marjorie was gone.

Elizabeth Walbert watched the graceful figure in white across the platform. Certainly this Dean girl was awfully good style, she reflected.

"What did mamma's precious pet want with you?" For the first time, since acknowledging an introduction to Elizabeth, Leslie Cairns had condescended to address her.

"Nothing, except to return this. She carried it and forgot to give it to me when I shook her. I am glad she didn't wait and bring it over to Alston Terrace. I don't care much for that type of girl. She's priggish and goody-goody, isn't she?" Miss Walbert promptly took her cue from Leslie.

While the babyish-looking freshman regarded Leslie with a perfectly innocent expression, there was lurking malice in her wide blue eyes. She had not liked the dignity Marjorie had shown when returning her property. It rankled in her petty soul. With the grat.i.tude of the proverbial serpent, she was quite ready to sting the hand which had befriended her.

"I'll say she is," returned Leslie. "I can't endure the sight of her and she knows it. You noticed she did not stay long. Lucky you knew Joan and Harriet. I'd be sorry for you if you had been roped in by that crowd of m.u.f.fs." She laughed disagreeably.

"It would take more than that crowd of m.u.f.fs, as you call them, to rope me in," boasted the other girl. "I saw at once they were not the kind that make good pals. Not enough to them, you know. Besides, I prefer not to be too friendly with a stranger until I know her social position."

Leslie Cairns regarded her meditatively, then held out her hand. "Shake hands on that," she invited. "You seem to have some sense. I hope you will stick to what you have said. If you do, you may count yourself a friend of mine. You will find, after you have been at Hamilton a while, that my friendship amounts to a good deal."

"Oh, I am _sure_ of that," emphasized the freshman. She was not sure at all. What she had shrewdly taken stock of was the cut and material of the English tweed sports suit Leslie was wearing. It was a marvel of expense. It was conspicuous, even among the smart traveling suits of her companions. So were her sports hat and English ties. Leslie's a.s.sured manner also impressed her. She decided that this exceedingly ugly but very "swagger" girl must be a person of importance at Hamilton.

Unmistakable gratification looked out from Leslie Cairns'

roughly-chiseled features at the freshman's flattering response. Like the majority of the unworthy, she craved flattery. Since she had been denied physical beauty, she built her hopes on attracting admiration by her daring personality. During her freshman year at Hamilton she had acquired a certain kind of popularity by her high-handed methods.

Possessed of an immense fortune, and in her own right, she had acquired tremendous power over her particular clique by reason of her money.

Leslie never "went broke." The majority of the Sans received liberal allowances from home and spent them even more liberally. Leslie was a good port in time of storm--when she chose to be. Once under obligation to her, she was quite likely, if crossed, to let her debtor feel the weight of her displeasure.

"Did that Miss Dean have anything to say about us?" Leslie casually inquired. Finding herself admired, she preferred to cultivate her new acquaintance rather than devote her attention to those of her cla.s.s who had come down to the train.

"She said--let me see." Miss Walbert knitted her light eyebrows in an elaborate effort at recollection. "She said she had never met any of you girls and she didn't care for an acquaintance with you. I had asked who you were because I wanted so much to know you. I recognized you girls at once as my kind. Just to see your dandy crowd coming along made me homesick for dear old Welden. I palled with a crowd like that at prep."

"Our little angel, Miss Bean,--I always call her Bean instead of Dean,--doesn't care what she does with the truth," sneered Leslie. "Last fall we came down to the train to meet her crowd. We knew they were greenies from a little one-horse town called Sanford. They were to be at the same campus house as we. A few of us thought we would try to help them. We took my friend, Miss Weyman's, car and went to the station.

Missed 'em by about two minutes. They hired a taxi. We felt mortified and went around to this Miss Dean's room to apologize. We were almost frost-bitten. They were so rude I felt ashamed for them. Afterward they started a lot of lies about us that made trouble for us at the Hall."

"My goodness!" fluttered Miss Walbert. "I had a narrow escape, didn't I?

I will take pains to steer clear of that whole crowd. I don't know whether I would recognize most of them if I happened to meet them on the campus. I would certainly know Miss Dean."

"Where are you going to live?" Leslie dropped back into her usual indifferent drawl.

"Alston Terrace. I have an exam. in math. to try. I'm pretty sure of staying, though. Is Alston Terrace as nice as the house where you are?

What did you say the name of your house was? Could I change and get in there?" There was suppressed eagerness in the last question.

"You could not." Leslie regarded the questioner with a superior smile.

"I live at Wayland Hall. Our crowd live there, too. It's the best house on the campus, and hard to get into. It has two drawbacks; an idiot of a manager, and dear Miss Bean and her crowd. We have made complaint against the manager and she may have to go. She's a hateful old fossil and shows partiality. We can't do much about this crowd of which I've been telling you, unless they do something very malicious against us.

Just let them start anything, though----" Her small black eyes narrowed unpleasantly.

At this juncture Natalie Weyman appealed to her to corroborate a statement she had just made to one of the juniors who had come down to the train to meet the Sans. Natalie had not been too busy with her friends to note that Leslie had condescended to show interest in the freshman. She, therefore, decided to break up the conversation going on between them. It was bad enough to have Lola Elster to contend with.

She did not propose to allow this forward little snip, as she mentally characterized Miss Walbert, any leeway toward Leslie's favor which she could prevent.

"She doesn't like me and I don't like her," was the freshman's conclusion. When speaking to Leslie, Natalie had regarded her out of two very cold gray-blue eyes. The polite smile which had touched her lips was suggestive of frost.

It was the last thing needed to fire Elizabeth Walbert's ambition toward an intimate friendship with Leslie Cairns. She resolved that she would not only be chums with Leslie. Sooner or later she would take up her residence at Wayland Hall. She had always been clever at obtaining whatever she desired. To attain a residence at the Hall might not be so very difficult. At least it was worth the effort. She did not care who might be shoved out in order to make room for her.

Meanwhile Marjorie had safely conducted her second venture in freshmen to the spot where a knot of girls stood patiently awaiting her tardy appearance. Helen alone was missing, having gone into the town on an errand.