Molly Brown's Sophomore Days Part 9

"What a charming place!" thought Molly, and that night she went to bed with the "Chalet of the West Wind" so deeply photographed in her mind that she almost felt as if she had been there herself. She could see it perched on the side of the mountain, looking across the valley. It was at the very edge of the forest. The picture showed that, and in her imagination she scented the wild flowers that must grow at its feet in the springtime. No doubt the west wind, which symbolized health and happiness, fair weather and sunshine, blew softly through its open cas.e.m.e.nts and across its s.p.a.cious galleries.

She went to sleep dreaming of the "Chalet of the West Wind," and in the morning something throbbed in her pulses. It was a kind of m.u.f.fled pounding at first, like the beginning of a long distance call, "lumpty-tum-tum; lumpty-tum-tum." But gradually a poem took shape in her mind, and as the fragments came to her she wrote them down on sc.r.a.ps of paper and hid them carefully in her desk.

CHAPTER VII.

THE GLEE CLUB CONCERT.

"If a cross-section could be made of this house, it would be rather amusing," exclaimed Judy Kean. "In every room there would be one girl b.u.t.toning up another girl."

It was the evening of the Glee Club concert, and nearly everybody not a freshman was going to dine somewhere before the concert. Judy and Nance were invited to the McLeans', and Molly was to have dinner with Mary Stewart and her guests in the Quadrangle apartment. During the process of dressing there was a great deal of "cross-talk" going on at Queen's that night. Through the open doors along the corridors voices could be heard calling:

"Has anyone a piece of narrow black velvet?"

"Margaret, don't you dare go without hooking me up!"

"Who thinks white shoes and stockings are too dressy?"

"Oh my, but you look scrumptious!"

Molly had saved her most prized dress for this occasion. It was the one she had purchased the Christmas before in New York and was made of old blue chiffon cloth over a "slimsy" satin lining, with two big old rose velvet poppies at the belt. It was cut out in the neck and the sleeves were short. Just before coming back to college, she had indulged in long ecru suede gloves, which she now drew on silently. She had received a letter from her mother that morning and her heart was heavy within her.

The letter said:

"The investment I made last summer has not turned out well. The young son has a.s.sured me that the family intends to pay back all the creditors, and I am trying not to worry. In the meantime, my precious daughter, you must not think of giving up college, as you offered in your last letter; that is, until this term is over. Then we will see what can be done, although I am obliged to tell you that things do not look very hopeful about any present funds. Jane is to take a position in town as librarian and Minnie intends to start a dancing cla.s.s. Your brothers and sisters and I will get on, but oh, I did so want you to have the advantages of a good education."

"But so much else goes with the education," Molly protested to herself.

"So many pleasures and enjoyments. Somehow, it doesn't seem fair for me to be going to glee club concerts when all my family are working so hard."

"Have you any stamps, Judy?" she asked suddenly, as she hooked that young woman into her dress.

"As many as you want up to a dozen," answered Judy. "They are in the pill box on my desk."

Molly made her way through Judy's tumbled apartment and helped herself to the stamps.

"I'll return them to-morrow," she said absently, drawing a letter from her portfolio, slipping one stamp into the envelope, and sticking the other on the back.

"What in the world are you writing to a real estate firm for, Molly?"

demanded Judy, looking over Molly's shoulder.

"Oh, just answering an ad."

"Are you so rich that you are going to buy a farm?"

"I wish I were."

Judy's curiosity never gave her any peace, and she now desired earnestly to know why Molly was corresponding with this strange firm.

"If it turns out well, I'll tell you," said Molly; "but if it doesn't, you'll never, never know."

"You mean thing, and I thought you loved me," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Judy.

"I do. That's why I won't tell you. If I did, I would have to inflict something worse on you, and you wouldn't be so thankful for that part."

"I shall burst if I don't know," cried Judy in despair.

"Burst into a million little pieces then, like the Snow Queen's looking gla.s.s and get into people's eyes and make them see queer Judy pictures and think queerer Judy thoughts."

"Meany, meany," called Judy after her friend, who had seized her gray eider-down cape and was fleeing down the hall.

"I love all this," thought Molly, as she hastened up the campus to the Quadrangle. "I adore the gay talk and the jokes--oh, heavens, but it will be hard to leave it! I understand now how Mary Stewart felt when she almost decided not to come back this year and then gave up and came after all."

Molly felt she would enjoy the sensation of being waited on at table that night instead of waiting herself, as she had done about this time last year at Judith Blount's dinner. She wondered if there would be a poor little trembly freshman to pa.s.s the food. But Mary was too kind-hearted for such things and had engaged two women in the village to cook and serve her dinner.

The other guests had not arrived when Molly let herself into the beautiful living room of the apartment, which was now turned into a dining room. The drop-leaf mahogany table had been drawn into the middle of the floor and was set with dazzling linen and silver for eight persons.

"I wonder who the other two are," thought Molly.

"Is that you, Molly, dear?" called Mary from the bedroom. "Well, come and hook my dress--" how many yards of hooks and eyes had Molly joined together that evening! "And here's something for you. Willie, when he found out you were taking him, sent you some violets."

"Heavens!" cried the young girl, after she had finished Mary and opened the large purple box. "Oh, Mary, this bunch is big enough for three people."

"It's only intended for one, and that's you," laughed the other.

The bouquet was indeed as large as a soup plate.

"I don't think I'd better wear them to dinner. I couldn't see over them.

I should feel as if I were carrying a violet bed on my chest."

"And so you are. No doubt it took all the violets from one large double bed for that bunch. But you had better wear them at first, and take them off at the table. Brother Willie is one of the touchiest young persons imaginable. Father and I have always called him 'the sensitive plant.'"

Hastily Molly pinned on the enormous bunch, which covered the entire front of her dress.

"They are coming now," she said, hearing steps in the next room; and, peeping through the door, she beheld "Brother Willie" himself, resplendent in his evening clothes, in company with two other equally resplendent beings, all wearing white gardenias in their b.u.t.tonholes.

"My goodness, they look like a wedding!" Molly whispered to her friend.

"Aren't they grand?" laughed Mary. "And here I am as plain as an old shoe, and never will be anything else."

"You are the finest thing I know," exclaimed Molly, tucking her arm through her friend's and allowing herself to be led rather timidly into the living room.

The third girl at this fine affair was another post-grad., and presently Molly rejoiced to see Miss Grace Green enter with her brother, Edwin.

Miss Green looked very pretty and young. She kissed Molly and told her she was a dear, and smelt the violets and pinched her cheek, glancing slyly at the three young men, any one of whom might have burdened her with that huge bouquet. And did not such bouquets argue something more than ordinary friendship?

As for the Professor, he glanced at the bouquet almost before he looked at Molly. Then he shook her stiffly by the hand and, turning away, devoted himself to the post-grad.

"Do they know that my mother has lost all her money in their cousin's mine?" Molly thought. "Perhaps that's the reason why Professor Green is so cold tonight. He's embarra.s.sed."