CHAPTER XX--STEMMING THE TIDE
One reaction after another made up the program of Wellington, anddirectly after the big practice game, at which Judith turned her ankle,Jane was confronted again with Helen's plea that she be allowed towithdraw from college. All the minor anxieties of the little Polishgirl cemented now into the one great obstacle of terror--that a girlshould have called her mad!
"Mad! Mad!" Helen kept repeating, and so great was her distress thatJane actually feared for a collapse of nerves, if not for some realmental disturbance.
"We must go to Mrs. Weatherbee," Jane insisted, as Helen sobbed andsighed in her room, declining to be comforted and refusing to go outfor any exercise. "I must talk it over with her. She is motherly andkind, and will know best what to do."
"But please no!" begged Helen. "I would not that you ask Mrs.Weatherbee. It would mean so much trouble, and I cannot stand more."
"But, Helen dear, it is our only way of bringing those hateful girls totheir senses. I will not agree that they go along unpunished, when theydeliberately take every occasion to cause you fear and anxiety. Wecannot stop them if----"
"Oh, but my dearest friend!" begged Helen. "You will not do that! Icould not stay at Wellington if you ask for any action by the faculty."
Jane was baffled. Why did Helen always insist upon secrecy? Why couldshe not go to Mrs. Weatherbee and demand that Marian and her followersbe compelled to desist? For a moment or two she pondered: then decidedto ask Helen outright.
"Helen dear, can you not tell Jane, why you do not want any assistancefrom the faculty? Why do you always--seem to fear--something?"
It was extremely difficult for Jane to express herself so directly tothe very much alarmed little Helen, but the time had come, Jane felt,when the question should be put straightforward and frankly.
Helen looked like someone about to be executed--or as one might imaginesuch an unfortunate looking. Her big dark eyes fairly blazed, and sheput her two hands up in a most tragic pose.
"My friend! My benefactress!" she exclaimed. "You will not ask me--allnow. I will tell you with gladness soon--I hope, but for a little timewait--till poor Helka can speak," and she fell in a heap, crumpled andmiserable at Jane's feet. Never had Jane seen anything so like tragedyenacted in a school girl's room. Never before had she witnessed such ascene as this, so wrought with dark and mysterious foreboding. Shepressed a kind hand on the black head that lay upon her knee, thenraised the tear-stained face.
"Helen dear, I believe you!" she whispered. "Whatever may be the realmotive, I know it is an honest one, and I shall do as you ask. Ofcourse, I feel helpless to assist you, as I should like, as I amprevented from asking the aid of those empowered to help us all atWellington, nevertheless, I guess we can do something. We girls are asstrong at least as our opponents, and we have right on our side. Socheer up, Helen dear! Come out, try to pretend you are over yournervous spell, so that they will have less chance to criticise. Youmust promise me something, too, little girl! See, I have promised you!"
"Oh, yes, Jane dear, ask and I promise!"
"That you will not ask to leave Wellington!"
From a look of fear and horror, gradually there stole into the darkmisty eyes an expression of determination. With it the proud head againassumed its poise, Jane had so often thought to be almost regal, andthe flaming cheeks composed now into a mold of beauty and dignity.
"I shall agree to the wish!" declared Helen, taking Jane's hand, andpressing it to her lips. "As you ask it I shall give it. I will not goaway from the dear Wellington."
"There, that's the spirit, Helen. If you take that attitude you willconquer all comers," she said rather irreverently, considering Helen'smeager store of paraphrased English.
"Yes, I will try! It is more noble to stand up than to--fall!" answeredHelen, thus betraying her actual knowledge of Jane's argument. "I willnot be a coward--I will fight as my--father--my brother. They did not laydown at Warsaw! They fought to death!"
Again Jane was conscious of the atmosphere of tragedy. Somehow Helenwas very unusual, and Jane confessed to herself just now, ratherdifficult. Notwithstanding these drawbacks, however, Jane was stillfirm as ever in her belief that Helka Podonsky was a persecuted girl,an artist, and probably a born aristocrat. Surely all this wasguarantee of her worth and reliability.
The tapping at Jane's door, for some moments left unanswered, becamemore insistent, and satisfying herself that Helen had regained hercomposure, Jane now proceeded to answer the summons.
As the door opened two blue eyes blazed in.
"Jane Allen!" sang out Clarisse Cummings, she known as the prettiestfreshie. "We are having an awful time; and I have been appointed acommittee of one to come to your highness (this with a jerk of acurtsy) to beg arbitration."
"Come in, Clarisse," Jane interrupted. "I have not much time beforeclass, but I shall be glad to help you if I can."
"Oh, you surely can. Hello, Nellie!" to Helen. "Where ever have youbeen? Sick?"
"Just nerves," assisted Jane, as Helen smiled a "non vult" to thecharge. "Helen has been working very hard with her violin, andsometimes out of doors at that. Strange we have so little understandingof the artistic temperament."
"Oh, yes--of course," faltered Clarisse, and her manner gave clue toJane that the "arbitration" requested might have something to do withHelen.
"I knew you must be sick, Nell," purred the pretty one, "and I insistedyou should not be put out until we had heard your side."
"Put out?" asked Helen, awakening at last to a sign of interest.
"Yes, you know you have not been to drill for days, and we have to havethe show before the sophs get ahead of us. They always have their showright in the glories of Hallowe'en, and the witches get all playedout----"
"And tangled up in their broom sticks, until the very best hairdressers among us cannot untangle the wigs," finished Jane. "You areperfectly right, Clarisse. You youngsters have been working hard atyour show for weeks, and you cannot allow the sophs to get the barnfirst. What's the real difficulty?"
Clarisse squatted down on the big floor cushion, her skirt justtouching her knees by the scantest rim. She doubled her feet backwardin regular style of the Jap-Turk-Indian, etc. Pencil threatening herred lips with poisonous smudges and "eyes right" as her squad wouldhave described it, the pretty one attempted to impart to Janeinformation certainly not intended for Helen's ears. Seeing herconfusion Jane mercifully attempted to relieve it.
"Suppose you rest this afternoon, Helen," she said. "I shall take yourexcuse in, if you wish."
"Oh, thank you, but I am sure I feel all right now," replied Helen,taking the cue signalling her departure. "I always feel refreshed whenI have talked with my very good friend."
"That's nice of you, dear," Jane accepted, opening the door. "Run inagain after two thirty. I shall be at leisure and glad to see youagain. By that time you will know exactly how you feel about taking afurlough."
The military term was one with which the Polish girl was entirelyfamiliar, and she guessed rightly that Jane had used it to convey theidea of a possible "furlough" from class work. Helen was still veryshaky, still far from being convinced that her persecutors would besilenced with their insidious gossip, and until all this could besatisfactorily straightened out, Helen might find it necessary toremain away from the general assemblages.
Smiling, she withdrew. Then Clarissa untwined her ankles and assumedthe aggressive.
"Oh, Jane--Miss Allen!"
"Jane is better, Clara. What can I do for the prettiest little freshieof them all?"
"Now don't tease, please," and blue eyes vied with dimples as starattractions. "I am so excited----"
"I see you are!"
"Miss Allen!" quite severely. "Are you really laughing at me?"
"Why, Clara, my dear, cannot an old friend tease just a little bit toshow her love for the Babes? You know, Clara, sometimes I am so sorry Ihave to grow up."
Reassured, and again smiling, Clarisse took
on still another attitude,determined to emphatically emphasize the seriousness of her mission.She could not guess that Jane's apparent joking had a motive, if notsinister, then deeply planned. Jane was stalling. She was using up timeto kill time, and she played against time for time. All of whichcollege girls are supposed to understand as within the ethics of schoolgirl diplomacy.
"Well, Janie, it is this way," again attempted the persistent freshman."We have our show all planned. It is entirely original--we wrote everyword of it and Nellie composed the music. Did you know that?"
"No, I did not!" admitted Jane, now showing interest.
"Of course you didn't. It was all a deep secret. But just when we wereready to drop the girls down the chimney--oh, that was another secret----"
"Trust me. I shall never disclose the dark, dire secret," Jane assuredher.
"No, I am sure you will not. You see, the story called for two girls tocome down the barn chimney----"
"Barn swallows," suggested Jane.
"No, chimney sweeps," corrected Clarisse. "The story was laid inLondon, and we had Mad Madge of Moscow. Of course that was Nelliebecause she had to play the violin--just fiddle away all the time." Janewas beginning to see light. Mad Madge for Helen in the face of theperfidious gossip declaring her really mad!
"It all went perfectly beautiful," Clarisse declared, "until some girlssaid--well, they said it was so easy for Nellie to act the mad part shemust be--what the other girls said she was." Little Clarisse was toochildlike, and too well bred to bolt out with the accusation that Helenhad been called mad. But Jane sensed the story as clearly as if it hadbeen actually screened before her eyes. Yes, in all Helen's schoolaffairs, this gossip was now injecting its poison. Even so absurd astory gained credence with action like rolling a snowball, growing asit turns.
"But why let such foolish talk influence you?" asked Jane.
"Oh, we didn't! Indeed we didn't!" This with wide-eyed consternation."But the trouble was with the tickets. When we went to the campus houseall along the other side not a girl would accept a ticket----"
"Don't you think that was just a case of boycott?" suggested Jane.
"Well, maybe so. But we had to have the Flip-Flops. You know we callthose girls who are always changing quarters the Flip-Flops. Isn't thata dreadful name? But Dickey Ripple stuck it on."
"They are changeable, to say the least, and they do stunts very likethe Flip-Flop," Jane agreed, "still it is not a pretty title to sailunder."
"No, I realize that," apologized the gullible Clarisse, "and I didn'tmean to use the horrid word again. First thing we know it will slip outin faculty hearing, then we will be disciplined. Well, anyway, wherewas I at?"
"At distributing your invitations. You said they were refused. On whatgrounds, Clara?"
"First, because we had Nellie in the cast, and second, because theysaid she might get--flighty and land knows only what. I am sure theycould not have meant she might get dangerous."
Rare sense for a freshman, Jane decided. All the other flings athelpless little Helen could not include that of being "dangerous atlarge." Jane considered for a moment. Clarisse waited, eager andhopeful.
"And just what was it you wanted me to do?" asked Jane finally.
"Why, to call a meeting, and announce our play, and put Helen down as aspecial attraction. Her violin is wonderful, and you know it is thevery first time she has consented to play in public."
Clarisse was quite breathless now, and Jane fell back bewildered. Afterall, the little girls demanded nothing extraordinary, but simple as therequest was, Jane could not promise to grant it.
"I fear Helen would not like that," she replied carefully. "You knowartists are very queer about any publicity previous to their granddebut. And Helen has such a wonderful concert planned for her realcoming out," said Jane.
"Oh, but just here in school couldn't matter. Really, Miss Allen, wewill be completely lost if you do not assist us," and again the dimplesmelted into little leaks, that threatened to overflow at the mouthends.
"All right, dear. I will see if I can arrange it," assented Jane, "butyou know I have to consult the executive committee about calling ameeting. We might do it more simply, and more effectively, some otherway. At any rate, you may count on us. We won't see our little freshmanoutclassed by such underhand methods."
"That's just it. Why don't you tell Mrs. Weatherbee?"
"Oh, it seems too silly! And besides you recall our pledge not to carrytales to the faculty! You wouldn't have your president be the first tobreak the very rule she was most insistent upon adopting?"
"Oh, no, that's so," agreed Clarisse. "I remember now, you did say wewere not to carry tales. Very well, I am satisfied. I think, as acommittee of one I have been quite a success, thanks to our president,"and she made a perky bow.
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