CHAPTER III
MRS. ELWOOD TO THE RESCUE
As Grace approached the curtained archway that divided the living-roomfrom the hall she could not help wishing that she might have settled theaffair without Mrs. Elwood's assistance. She was not afraid to approachMrs. Elwood, who was the soul of good nature, but Grace disliked theidea of the scene that she felt sure would follow. The young woman nowoccupying the room that she and Anne had re-engaged for their sophomoreyear would contest their right to occupy it. Mrs. Elwood would beobliged to set her foot down firmly. It would all be extremelydisagreeable. Grace reflected. Then the memory of the Anarchist'sglaring incivility returned, and without further hesitation Grace walkedinto the living-room, followed by her companions.
Mrs. Elwood, who was sitting in her favorite chair reading a magazine,looked up absently, then, staring incredulously at the newcomers,trotted across the room, both hands outstretched in welcome. "Why, MissHarlowe and Miss Nesbit, I had given you up for to-night. Here are MissPierson and Miss Briggs, too. I'm so glad to see you. When did youarrive? I thought there was no train from the north before nineo'clock."
"Didn't Miss Dean tell you we had arrived?" asked Grace, as Mrs. Elwoodshook hands in turn with each girl.
"I haven't seen Miss Dean. She went out before I came home," repliedMrs. Elwood.
"Wait until we catch the faithless Emma," threatened Anne. "She promisedto be our herald. We arrived here at a little after five o'clock. We didnot stay here long, for Miss Thayer, of Morton House, invited us todinner at Vinton's."
"How do you like the way I fixed your room this year?" asked Mrs.Elwood.
"We haven't been in it yet," answered Grace. "That is, we went only asfar as the door."
"Oh, then you must see it at once," said Mrs. Elwood briskly. "I havehad it repapered. There is a new rug on the floor, too, and I have put anew Morris chair in and taken out one of the cane-seated chairs."
"No wonder the Anarchist refuses to vacate," muttered Elfreda.
"What did you say, my dear?" remarked Mrs. Elwood amiably.
"Oh, I was just talking nonsense," averred Elfreda solemnly.
"I won't keep you girls out of your rooms any longer. I know you must betired from your long journey. Come upstairs at once."
Mrs. Elwood had already crossed the room and was out in the hall, herfoot on the first step of the stairs. The girls exchanged glances. Therewas a half smothered chuckle from Elfreda, then Grace hurried aftertheir good-natured landlady. "Wait a minute, Mrs. Elwood," began Grace,"I have something to tell you before you go upstairs. This afternoon,when we arrived, we went directly to our rooms. The door of our room waslocked, however. We knocked repeatedly, and it was at last opened by ayoung woman who said the room was hers and refused to allow us to enterit."
During this brief recital Mrs. Elwood looked first amazed, thenincredulous. Her final expression was one of lively displeasure, andwith the exclamation, "I might have known it!" she marched upstairs withthe air of a grenadier, the girls filing in her wake. Pausing before thedoor she listened intently. The sound of some one moving within could beheard distinctly. Mrs. Elwood rapped sharply on the door. The footstepshalted; after a few seconds the sound began again.
"She thinks we have come back," whispered Elfreda.
"So we have," smiled Grace, "with reinforcements."
Her smile was reflected on the faces of her friends. Mrs. Elwood,however, did not smile. Two red spots burned high on her cheeks, herlittle blue eyes snapped. Again she knocked, this time accompanying theaction with: "Open this door, instantly. Mrs. Elwood wishes to speakwith you."
"Do not imagine that you can gain entrance to this room through any suchpretense," announced a contemptuous voice from the other side of thedoor. "I believe I stated that I did not wish to be disturbed."
"And I state that you must open the door," commanded Mrs. Elwood. "Youare not addressing one of the students. This is Mrs. Elwood."
A grating of the key in the lock followed, then the door was cautiouslyopened far enough to allow a scowling head to be thrust out. The instantthe Anarchist's narrowed eyes rested on Mrs. Elwood her belligerentmanner changed. She swung the door wide, remarking in cold apology;"Pray, pardon me, Mrs. Elwood. I believed that a number of rude,ill-bred young women whom I had the misfortune to encounter earlier inthe day were renewing their attempts to annoy me."
"There are no such young women at Wayne Hall," retorted Mrs. Elwood, whowas thoroughly angry. "The majority of the young women here were with melast year, and not one of them answers your description. Really, MissAtkins, you must know that you are trespassing. This room belongs toMiss Harlowe and Miss Pierson. It was theirs last year and they arrangedwith me last June to occupy it again during their sophomore year. Howyou happened to be here is more than I can say. I believe I gave you theroom at the end of the hall."
"The room to which you assigned me did not meet with my approval," wasthe calm reply. "I prefer this room."
"You can't have it," returned Mrs. Elwood decisively.
"But I insist upon remaining where I am," persisted the intruder. "Ifnecessary, I will allow Miss Harlowe or her roommate to occupy the otherhalf of the room."
"I have told you that you can not have the room," exclaimed Mrs. Elwood,eyeing her obstinate antagonist with growing disfavor. "If you do notwish to take the room at the end of the hall, then I have nothing elsein the house to offer you. No doubt you can find board to suit you insome other house."
"I wish to stay here," returned the Anarchist stubbornly. "Let MissHarlowe have the room at the end of the hall."
Sheer exasperation held Mrs. Elwood silent for a moment. The Anarchistpeered defiantly at her from under her bushy eyebrows. She made no movetoward vacating the room of which she had so coolly taken possession.
"We'll go for our bags and suit cases, Mrs. Elwood," suggested Gracewickedly. "We left them in Miriam's room."
"Very well," returned the intrepid landlady. "Your room will be readyfor you when you return."
"That is what I call a stroke of genius on your part, Grace," remarkedMiriam, as they entered her room. "Mrs. Elwood can deal with theAnarchist more summarily without an audience."
"It must be very humiliating for that Miss Atkins," mused Anne, "butit's her own fault."
"Of course it's her own fault," emphasized Elfreda. "She doesn't appearto know when the pleasure of her company is requested elsewhere."
"Shall we go now?" asked Anne, lifting her heavy suit case preparatoryto moving.
"Not yet," counseled Grace. "We must give her time enough to get out ofsight before we appear."
Elfreda boldly took up her station at the door and reported faithfullythe enemy's movements. After a twenty minutes' wait, the stout girlclosed the door with a bang, exclaiming triumphantly: "She's gone! Shejust paraded down the hall carrying her goods and chattels. Mrs. Elwoodstalked behind carrying a hat box. She looked like an avenging angel.Hurry up, now, and move in before the Anarchist changes her mind andcomes back to take possession all over again."
Grace and Anne lost no time in taking Elfreda's advice. Five minuteslater they were back in their old room. "Stay here a while, girls,"invited Grace. Miriam and Elfreda had assisted their friends with theirluggage.
"How nice your room looks," praised Miriam. "I like that wall paper. Itis so dainty. Your favorite blue, too, Grace. I wonder if Mrs. Elwoodknew that blue was your color?"
"I suppose so," returned Grace. "Two-thirds of my clothes are blue, youknow. I must run downstairs and thank her for championing our cause. Iwon't be gone five minutes."
"We must go," declared Miriam. "We are going to begin unpackingto-night."
Running lightly down the stairs, Grace thrust her head between theportieres that separated the living-room from the hall. Mrs. Elwood satreading her magazine as placidly as though nothing had happened withinthe last hour to disturb her equanimity.
"Thank you ever so much, Mrs. Elwood," said Grace gratefully, walking upto t
he dignified matron and shyly offering her hand.
"Nonsense, child!" was the reply. "You have nothing for which to thankme. You don't suppose I would allow a new boarder to infringe upon therights of my old girls, do you?"
"No," admitted Grace. "I'm sorry that things had to happen that way,"she added regretfully.
"Don't you worry about it any more, Miss Harlowe," comforted the olderwoman. "It's nothing you are to blame for. You had the first right tothe room. I gave this girl Miss Gaines's old room. Her roommate is to bea freshman, too. She hasn't arrived yet. Miss Atkins decided to pick outher own room, I imagine. Evidently she took a fancy to yours. As soon asyou girls had gone, she gave me one awful look, gathered up herbelongings, and went to the other room without another word. I picked uptwo or three things she dropped and carried them down for her. Iwouldn't be sorry if she went to some other house to board. She lookslike a trouble maker."
Grace was of the same opinion, but did not say so. Always eager toexcuse other people's shortcomings, she found it hard to account for thefeeling of strong dislike that had risen within her during her firstencounter with the young woman Elfreda had laughingly named theAnarchist. She had hoped that the four freshmen at Wayne Hall would begirls whom it would be a pleasure to know. She had looked forward tomeeting these newcomers and to assisting them in whatever way she couldbest give help. Now at least one of her castles in the air had beenbuilt in vain.
"Perhaps we may like Miss Atkins after we know her better," she said,trying hard to keep the doubt she felt out of her voice.
Mrs. Elwood shook her head. "I hope she will improve on acquaintance,but I doubt it. It isn't my principle, my dear, to speak slightingly ofany student in my house, but I am certain that this is not the last timeI shall have to lay down the law of Wayne Hall to Miss Atkins."
At this plain speaking Grace flushed but said nothing. She understoodthat Mrs. Elwood's words had been spoken in confidence.
"I'm so glad to see you again, Mrs. Elwood," she smiled, bent onchanging the subject.
"And I to see you, my dear," was the hearty response. "I have missed myOakdale girls this summer."
After a few moments' conversation Grace said good night and went slowlyupstairs. In spite of her satisfaction at being back at Overton shecould not repress a sigh of regret over the recent unpleasantness.
"The unforeseen always happens," she reflected, pausing for a moment onthe top step. "I hope the Anarchist will 'stay put' this time." Shelaughed softly at the idea of the Anarchist standing stiff andstationary in her new room. Then the ridiculous side of the encounterdawning on her, she sat down on the stairs and gave way to sudden silentlaughter.
"What did Mrs. Elwood say?" asked Anne as Grace entered the room.
"I am afraid Mrs. Elwood is not, and never will be, an admirer of theAnarchist," said Grace. "Seriously speaking, she is half inclined to askher to leave Wayne Hall. She believes she will have further trouble withher. Perhaps we should have waited. We might have tried, later, to gainpossession of our room," added Grace doubtfully.
Anne shook her head. "We would be waiting still, if we had attempted tosettle matters without Mrs. Elwood."
"But it seems too bad to begin one's sophomore year so unpleasantly. Allsummer I had been planning how helpful I would try to be to enteringfreshmen, and this is the way my splendid visions have materialized."Grace eyed Anne rather dejectedly.
"Never mind," soothed Anne. "By to-morrow this little unpleasantnesswill have completely blown over. Perhaps the Anarchist," Anne smiledover the title Elfreda had bestowed upon the disturbing freshman, "willdiscover that she can make friends more quickly by being pleasant. Shemay reform over night. Stranger things have happened."
"But nothing of that sort will happen in her case," declared Grace. "Yousaid just a moment ago if it hadn't been for Mrs. Elwood we would stillbe out in the hall clamoring for a room, didn't you!"
"I did," smiled Anne.
"That was equivalent to accusing the Anarchist of stubbornness, wasn'tit?"
"It was."
"Very well. If she is half as stubborn as I believe her to be, she won'tbe different to-night, to-morrow or for a long time afterward."
Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College Page 3