Betty Wales, Senior

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  CHAPTER II

  A SENIOR CLASS-MEETING

  It was great fun exercising all the new senior privileges. One of thefirst and most exciting was occupying the front seats at morning chapel.

  "Although," complained Betty Wales sadly, "you don't get much good outof that, if your name begins with a W. Of course I am glad there are somany of 19--, but they do take up a lot of room. Nobody could tell thatEleanor and I were seniors, unless they knew it beforehand."

  "And then they wouldn't believe it about you," retorted Madeline, thetease.

  Madeline, being an A, was one of the favored front row, who were nearenough "to catch Prexy's littlest smiles," as Helen Adams put it, andwho were the observed of all observers as they marched, two and two,down the middle aisle, just behind the faculty. Madeline, being tall andgraceful and always perfectly self-possessed, looked very impressive,but little Helen Adams was dreadfully frightened and blushed to theroots of her smooth brown hair every morning.

  "And yet I wouldn't give it up for anything," she confided to Betty. "Imean--I'll exchange with you any time, but I do just love to sit there,although I dread walking out so. It's just the same when I am talking toMiss Raymond or Miss Mills. I wish I weren't such a goose."

  "You're a very dear little goose," Betty reassured her, wondering why inthe world the clever Helen Adams was afraid of people, while she, whowas only little Betty Wales, without much brains and with no big talent,felt perfectly at home with Dr. Hinsdale, Miss Raymond, and even thegreat "Prexy" himself.

  "I suppose that is my talent," she decided at last,--"not being afraid,and just plunging right in. Well, I suppose I ought to be glad that Ihave anything."

  Another senior privilege is the holding of the first class-meeting.Fresh indeed is the freshman class which neglects this order ofprecedence, and in deference to their childish impatience the seniorsalways hold their meeting as early in the term as possible. Of course19--'s came on a lovely afternoon,--the first after an unusually longand violent "freshman rain."

  "Coming, Madeline?" asked Betty, passing Madeline's single on her wayout.

  "Where?" inquired Madeline lazily from the depths of her Morris chair.

  "To the class-meeting of course," explained Betty. "Now don't pretendyou've forgotten and made another engagement. I just heard Georgia Amestelling you that she couldn't go walking because of an unexpectedwritten lesson."

  Madeline wriggled uneasily. "What's the use?" she objected. "It's toonice a day to waste indoors. There'll be nothing doing for us. Weelected Rachel last year, and none of the rest of the crowd will do forclass officers."

  "What an idea!" said Betty loftily. "I'm thinking of nominating Babe fortreasurer. Besides Rachel is going to wear a cap and gown--it's a newidea that the council thought of, for the senior president to wearone--and Christy and Alice Waite are going to make speeches about thecandidates. And I think they're going to vote about our ten thousanddollars."

  Madeline rose despondently. "All right then, for this once. By the way,whom are they going to have for toastmistress at class-supper? Theyelect her to-day, don't they?"

  "I suppose so. I know the last year's class chose Laurie at their firstmeeting. But I haven't heard any one mentioned."

  "Then I'm going to nominate Eleanor Watson," declared Madeline. "She'snever had a thing from the class, and she's by far the best speaker wehave except Emily Davis."

  "And Emily will be class-day orator of course," added Betty. "Oh,Madeline, I'm so glad you thought of Eleanor. Won't it be splendid tohave a 'Merry Heart' for toastmistress?"

  Madeline nodded carelessly. She was thinking more about a letter fromhome, with news that her father and mother were to sail at once forItaly, than about matters of class policy. She loved the Italian sea andthe warm southern sunshine; and the dear old "out-at-elbows" villa onthe heights above Sorrento was the nearest thing she had known to ahome. Father had told her to come along if she liked--ever since shecould remember she had been allowed to make her own decisions. But then,as Babbie had said, there was only one 19--, and with plenty of "passedup" courses to her credit she could work as little as she pleased thisyear and never go to a class-meeting after to-day.

  "Let's stop for the B's," she suggested, as they went out into theSeptember sunshine. "Bob hates meetings as much as I do. I'm not goingto be the only one to be disciplined."

  Before they had reached the Westcott, the B's shouted to them from theirhammocks in the apple-orchard, which they reluctantly abandoned to go tothe meeting. Bob had just had an exciting runaway--her annual spillswere a source of great amusement to her friends and of greater terror toher doting parents--and she was so eager to recount her adventures anddisplay her bruises, that nothing more was said about Madeline's planfor Eleanor.

  The class-meeting was large and exciting. The election of a seniorpresident is as thrilling an event at Harding as the coronation of aCzar of all the Russias to the world at large. It was a foregoneconclusion that Marie Howard would be the unanimous choice of the class,but until the act was fairly consummated--and indeed until Marie hadbeen dined at Cuyler's and overwhelmed with violets to the satisfactionof her many friends--the excitement would not abate. There was apleasant uncertainty about the other class officers. Six avowedcandidates for the treasurership quarreled good naturedly over theirrespective qualifications for the position, each one in her secret soulintending to withdraw in favor of her dearest friend among the otherfive. In another corner of the room an agitated group discussed the bestdisposition of the ten thousand dollar fund.

  "I don't think we ought to dispose of it hastily," Christy Mason wassaying. "It's a lot of money and we ought to consider very carefullybefore we decide."

  "Besides," added Emily Davis flippantly, "as long as we delay ourdecision, we shall continue to be persons of importance in the eyes ofthe faculty. It's comical to see how deferential they all are. I tookdinner at the Burton Sunday, and afterward Miss Raymond invited a few ofus into her room for coffee. She didn't mention the money,--she's tooclever for that,--but she talked a lot about the constant need for newbooks in her department. 'You can't run an English department properlyunless you can give your pupils access to the newest books'--that wasthe burden of her refrain. Marion Lustig was quite impressed. I thinkshe means to propose endowing an English department library fund."

  "Dr. Hinsdale wants books for his department, and a lot of psychologicaljournals--all about ghosts and mediums--that college professors look upabout, you know," Nita Reese ended somewhat vaguely.

  "And Miss Kent is hoping we'll give the whole sum to her to spend foranother telescope," added Babe, whose specialty, if one might dignifyher unscholarly enthusiasms by that name, was astronomy.

  "Every one of the faculty wants it for something," said Christy.

  "Naturally. They're all human, aren't they?" laughed Emily Davis, justas Rachel appeared in the doorway, looking very dignified andimpressive in a cap and gown.

  "Is the tassel right?" she whispered anxiously, as she passed a group ofgirls seated near the platform steps.

  "No, put it the other side--unless you're a Ph. D.," returned RobertaLewis in a sepulchral whisper. "Father has one. He lectures at JohnsHopkins," she added, in answer to nudges from her neighbors andawestruck inquiries as to "how she knew."

  Then Rachel called the meeting to order. She thanked the class for thehonor they had done her, and hoped she had not disappointed them.

  "I've tried not to consider any clique or crowd," she said--"not tothink anything about the small groups in our class, but to find out whatthe whole big, glorious class of 19-- wanted"--Rachel's voice rang outproudly--"and then to carry out its wishes. I believe in publicsentiment--in the big generous feeling that makes you willing to give upyour own little plans because they are not big and fine enough to suitthe whole class. I hope the elections to-day may be conducted in thatspirit. We each want what we all want, I am sure. We know one anotherpretty well by this time, but perhaps it will help us in choosing
theright persons for senior officers if some of the candidates' friendsmake brief nominating speeches. It is now in order to nominate some onefor the office of senior president."

  Christy was on her feet in an instant, nominating Marie Howard, in agraceful little speech that mentioned her tact and energy and classspirit, recalled some of the things she had done to make the class of19-- proud of her, and called attention to the fact that she had neverhad an important office before.

  "And she wouldn't be having one now if we hadn't succeeded in throwingoff the rule of a certain person named Eastman and her friends,"muttered Bob sotto voce.

  Alice Waite seconded the nomination.

  "I can't make a real speech like Christy's," she stammered, blushingprettily, "but I want to call attention to Marie's--I mean to MissHoward's sparkling sense of humor and strong personal magnetism.And--and--I am sure she'll do splendidly," ended little Alice,forgetting her set phrases and sitting down amidst a burst of amusedapplause.

  Rachel called for other nominations but there were none, so Marie waselected unanimously, and with tremendous enthusiasm.

  After she had assumed the cap and gown, taken the chair, and thanked herclassmates, Barbara Gordon, one of Christy's best friends, was madevice-president. Babe, to her infinite annoyance, found herself thevictor in the treasurer's contest, and Nita Reese was ensconced besideMarie in the secretary's chair.

  "And you said none of 'The Merry Hearts' would do for officers," Bettywhispered reproachfully to Madeline.

  "Well, will they think we are office-grabbers, if I put up Eleanor?"asked Madeline.

  "Oh, no," declared Betty eagerly. "You see Babe's such a generalfavorite--she's counted into half a dozen crowds; and Nita is really aHill girl, only she never would go to class-meetings when she was afreshman and so she was never identified with that set. You will proposeEleanor, won't you?"

  "Honor bright," promised Madeline, and returned once more to the pagesof a new magazine which she had insisted upon bringing, "in case thingsare too deadly slow."

  "The next business," said Marie, consulting the notes that Rachel hadhanded her with the cap and gown, "the next business is to dispose ofour ten thousand dollars."

  Instantly a dozen girls were on their feet, clamoring for recognition.Marion Lustig urged the need of books for the English department. ClaraMadison, who after two years of amazement at Harding College in generaland hatred of the bed-making it involved in particular, had suddenlyawakened to a tremendous enthusiasm for microscopic botany, made a funnylittle drawling speech about the needs of her pet department. Two orthree of Miss Ferris's admirers declared that zooelogy was the mostimportant subject in the college curriculum, and urged that the moneyshould be used as a nest egg for endowing the chair occupied by thatpopular lady. The Spanish and Italian departments, being newlyestablished, were suggested as particularly suitable objects forbenevolence. Dr. Hinsdale's department, the history and the Greekdepartments were exploited. 19-- was a versatile class; there wassomebody to plead for every subject in the curriculum, and at least halfa dozen prominent members of the faculty were declared by their specialadmirers to stand first in 19--'s affections.

  "Though that has really nothing to do with it," said Jean Eastmantestily, conscious that her plea for the modern language departments hadfallen on deaf ears. "We're not giving presents to the faculty, but tothe college. I like Miss Raymond as well as any one----"

  "Oh, no, you don't," muttered Bob, who had caught Jean in the act ofreading an English condition at the end of Junior year.

  Jean heard, understood, and flashed back an acrimonious retort aboutMiss Ferris's partiality for Bob's work.

  The newly elected president, whose tact had been extolled by EmilyDavis, found it speedily put to the test. "Don't you think," she began,"that we ought to hear from the girl who had most to do with our gettingthis money? Before we act upon the motion to refer the matter to acommittee who shall interview the president and the faculty and find outhow the rest of the money is to be spent and where ours seems to be mostneeded, I want to ask Miss Betty Wales for an expression of heropinion."

  Betty gave a little gasp. Parliamentary law was Hebrew to her, andspeech-making a fearful and wonderful art, which she never essayedexcept in an emergency. But she recognized Marie's distress, and rosehesitatingly, to pour oil on the troubled waters if possible.

  "I certainly think there ought to be a committee," she began slowly."And I'm sure I know less than any one who has spoken about the needs ofthe different courses. I'm--well, I'm not a star in anything, you see. Iagree with Jean that we ought not to make this a personal matter, andyet I am sure that the head of whatever department we give the money towill be pleased, and I don't see why we shouldn't consider that andchoose somebody who has done a lot for 19--. But there are so many whohave done a lot for us." Betty frowned a perplexed little frown. "I wishtoo," she went on very earnestly, "that we could do something that islike us. You know what I mean. We stand for fair play and a good timefor everybody--that was why we had the dresses simple, you know." Thefrown vanished suddenly and Betty's fascinating little smile came intoview instead. "I wonder--of course Prexy is always saying the college ispoor, and the faculty are always talking about not having books enough,but I haven't noticed but that they find enough to keep us busy lookingup references." ("Hear, hear!" chanted the B's.) "It seems to me thatHarding College is good enough as it is," went on Betty, lookingreproachfully at the disturbers. "The thing is to let as many girls aspossible come here and enjoy it. Do you suppose the man who gave themoney would be willing that we should use our share of it forscholarships? Four one hundred dollar scholarships would help four girlsalong splendidly. Of course that isn't a department exactly,--andperhaps it's a silly suggestion." Betty slipped into her seat besideMadeline, blushing furiously, and looking blankly amazed when her speechbrought forth a round of vigorous applause, and, as soon asparliamentary order would permit, a motion that 19-- should, with theconsent of the unknown benefactor of the college, establish four annualscholarships.

  "I name Miss Wales as chairman of the committee to interview thepresident," said Marie, beaming delightedly on her once more harmoniousconstituents. "The other two members of the committee I will appointlater. The next and last business of this meeting is to elect atoastmistress for our class-supper. She is always chosen early, youknow, so that she can be thinking of toasts and getting material forthem out of all the events of the year. Nominations are now in order."

  "I nominate Eleanor Watson," said Madeline promptly, reluctantly closingher magazine and getting to her feet. "I needn't tell any of you howclever she is nor how well she speaks. Next to one or two persons whoseduties at commencement time are obvious and likely to bearduous"--Madeline grinned at Emily Davis, who was sure to beclass-orator, and Babe leaned forward to pat Marion Lustig, who wasequally sure to be class-poet, on the shoulder--"next to these one ortwo geniuses, Eleanor is our wittiest member. Of course ourclass-supper will be the finest ever,--it can't help being--but withEleanor Watson at the head of the table, it will eclipse itself. Toquote the great Dr. Hinsdale, do you get my point?"

  Kate Denise seconded the nomination with a heartiness that made Eleanorflush with pleasure. Betty watched her happily, half afraid she wouldrefuse the nomination, as she had refused the Dramatic Club's election;but she only sat quite still, her great eyes shining like stars. She wasthinking, though Betty could not know that, of little Helen Adams andher "one big day" when she was elected to the "Argus" board.

  "I know just how she felt," Eleanor considered swiftly. "It's afteryou've been left out and snubbed and not wanted that things like thisreally count. Oh, I'm so glad they want me now."

  "Are there any other nominations?" asked Marie. There was a littlesilence, broken by a voice saying: "Let's make it unanimous. Ballotstake so long, and everybody wants her."

  Then a girl got up from the back row,--a girl to whom KatherineKittredge had once given the title of "Harding's champion blunderbuss.
"She could no more help doing the wrong thing than she could helpbreathing. She had begun her freshman year by opening the door into Dr.Hinsdale's recitation-room, while a popular senior course was insession. "I beg your pardon, but are you Miss Stuart?" she had asked,looking full at the amazed professor, and upon receiving a gaspingdenial she had withdrawn, famous, to reappear now and then during hercourse always in similar roles. It happened that she had never heard ofEleanor Watson's stolen story until a week before the class-meeting,when some one had told her the unvarnished facts, with no palliation andno reference to Eleanor's subsequent change of heart or renunciation ofone honor after another. Virtuous indignation and pained surprisestruggled for expression upon her pasty, immobile face.

  "Madam president," she began, and waited formally for recognition.

  "Oh, I say, it's awfully late," said somebody. "I've got fiverecitations to-morrow."

  This speech and the laugh that followed it put new vigor into theChampion's purpose. "I hope I am not trespassing on any one's timeunduly," she said, "by stating that--I dislike to say it here, but ithas been forced upon me. I don't think Miss Watson is the girl to hold19--'s offices. Miss Wales said that we stood for fair play." TheChampion took her seat ponderously.

  The room was very still. Marie sat, nonplused, staring at the Champion'sdefiant figure. Madeline's hands were clenched angrily. "I'd like toknock her down, the coward," she muttered to Betty, who was lookingstraight ahead and did not seem to hear.

  Hardly a minute had gone by, but more slowly than a minute ever wentbefore, when Eleanor was on her feet. She had grown suddenly white, andher eyes had a hunted, strained look. "I quite agree with MissHarrison," she said in clear, ringing tones, her head held high. "I amnot worthy of this honor. I withdraw my name, and I ask Miss Ayres, as apersonal favor, to substitute some one's else."

  Eleanor sat down, and Marie wet her lips nervously and looked atMadeline. "Please, Miss Ayres," she begged.

  "As a personal favor," returned Madeline slowly, "because Eleanor Watsonasks me, I substitute"--she paused--"Christy Mason's name. I am surethat Miss Mason will allow it to be used, as a personal favor to everyone concerned."

  "Indeed I----" began Christy impetuously. Then she met Eleanor'sbeseeching eyes. "Very well," she said, "but every one here except MissHarrison knows that Miss Watson would be far better."

  It took only a minute to elect Christy and adjourn the ill-fatedmeeting.

  "I thought she'd feel like hurrying home," said Katherine sardonically,as the Champion, very red and militant, rushed past her toward the door.

  Betty looked wistfully after the retreating figure. "I would rather haveleft college than had her say that. It doesn't seem fair--aftereverything."

  "Serves me right, anyhow," broke in Madeline despondently. "I wasdreaming about castles in Italy instead of tackling the business inhand. If I had thought more I should have known that some freak wouldseize the opportunity to rake up old scores. Don't feel so bad, Betty.It was my fault, and I'll make it up to her somehow. Come and help metell Christy that she's a trump, and that I truly wanted her, next toEleanor."

  When they had pushed their way through to Christy's side, Eleanor, stillwhite but smiling bravely, was shaking hands. "It was awfully good ofyou not to mind the little awkwardness," she was saying. "The girlsalways want you--you know that." She turned to find Betty standingbeside her, looking as if her heart was broken.

  "Why, Betty Wales," she laughed, "cheer up. You've made the speech ofthe day, and three of your best friends are waiting to be congratulated.Tell Christy how pleased you are that she's toastmistress and then comedown town with me."

  Once out of the crowded room Eleanor grew silent, and Betty, too hurtand angry to know what to offer in the way of comfort, left her to herown thoughts. They had crossed the campus and were half way down thehill when Eleanor spoke.

  "Betty," she said, "please don't care so. If you are going to feel thisway, I don't think I can bear it."

  Betty stared at her in astonishment. "Why Eleanor, it's you that I careabout. I can't bear to have you treated so."

  Eleanor smiled sadly. "And can't you see--no, of course you can't, foryou never did a mean or dishonorable thing in your life. If you had, youwould know that the worst part of the disgrace, is that you have toshare it with your friends. I don't mind for myself, because what MissHarrison said is true."

  "No, it's not," cried Betty hotly. "Not another girl in the whole classfeels so."

  "That," Eleanor went on, "is only because they are kind enough to bewilling to forget. But to drag you in, and dear old Madeline, and all'The Merry Hearts'! You'll be sorry you ever took me in."

  "Nonsense!" cried Betty positively. "Everybody knows that you'vechanged--everybody, that is, except that hateful Miss Harrison, and someday perhaps she'll see it."

  That evening Betty explained to Helen, who had never heard a word of the"Argus" matter, why Eleanor had not been made an editor.

  "Do you think there were any others to-day who didn't want her?" sheasked anxiously.

  Helen hesitated. "Ye-es," she admitted finally. "I think that MissHarrison has some friends who feel as she does. I heard them whisperingtogether. And one girl spoke to me. But I am sure they were about theonly ones. Most of the girls feel dreadfully about it."

  "Of course no one who didn't would say anything to me," sighed Betty."Oh, Helen, I am so disappointed."

  "Well," returned Helen judicially, "it can't be helped now, and in a wayit may be a good thing. Eleanor will feel now that everybody who countsfor much in the class understands, and perhaps there will be somethingelse to elect her for, before the year is out."

  Betty shook her head. "No, it's the last chance. She wouldn't takeanything after this, and anyway no one would dare to propose her, andrisk having her insulted again."

  "I guess we shan't any of us be tempted to do anything dishonest," saidHelen primly. "Doesn't it seem to you as if the girls were getting moreparticular lately about saying whether they got their ideas from booksand giving their authorities at the end of their papers?"

  "Yes," said Betty, "it does, and I think it's a splendid thing. I wentto a literary club meeting with Nan last Christmas and one of the paperswas copied straight out of a book I'd just been reading, almost word forword. I told Nan and she laughed and said it was a very common way ofdoing. I think Harding girls will do a good deal if they help put a stopto that kind of thing. But that won't be much comfort to Eleanor."

  When Helen had gone, Betty curled up on her couch to consider the day."Mixed," she told the little green lizard, "part very nice and partperfectly horrid, like most days in this world, I suppose, even in yourbest beloved senior year. I wonder if Prexy will like the scholarshipidea. I straightened out one snarl, and then I helped make a worse one.And I shall be in another if I don't set to work this very minute,"ended Betty, reaching for her Stout's Psychology.