Betty Wales, Freshman

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  CHAPTER II

  BEGINNINGS

  The next morning it poured.

  "Of course," said Eleanor Watson impressively at breakfast. "It alwaysdoes the first day of college. They call it the freshman rain."

  "Let's all go down to chapel together," suggested Rachel Morrison.

  "You're going to order carriages, of course?" inquired Roberta Lewisstiffly.

  "Hurrah! Another joke for the grind-book," shrieked Mary Brooks. Thenshe noticed Roberta's expression of abject terror. "Never mind, MissLewis," she said kindly. "It's really an honor to be in the grind-book,but I promise not to tell if you'd rather I wouldn't. Won't you showthat you forgive me by coming down to college under my umbrella?"

  "She can't. She's coming with me," answered Nan promptly. "I demand theright to first choice."

  "Very well, I yield," said Mary, "because when you go my sovereigntywill be undisputed. You'll have to hurry, children."

  So the little procession of rain-coats flapping out from under drippingumbrellas started briskly off to join the longer procession that wasconverging from every direction toward College Hall. Roberta and Nanwere ahead under one umbrella, chatting like old friends.

  "I suppose she doesn't think we're worth talking to," said RachelMorrison, who came next with Betty.

  "Probably she's one of the kind that's always been around with grownpeople and isn't used to girls," suggested Betty.

  "Perhaps," agreed Rachel. "Anyhow, I can't get a word out of her. Shejust sits by her window and reads magazines and looks bored to deathwhen Katherine or I go in to speak to her. Isn't Katherine jolly? I'm soglad I don't room alone."

  "Are you?" asked Betty. "I can tell better after my roommate comes. Hername sounds quite nice. It's Helen Chase Adams, and she lives somewhereup in New Hampshire. Did you ever see so many girls?"

  There seemed to be no end to them. They jostled one anothergood-naturedly in the narrow halls, swarmed, chattering, up the stairs,and filled the chapel to overflowing. It was very exciting to see thewhole college together. Even Roberta Lewis condescended to lookinterested when Mary Brooks showed her the faculty rows, and pointed outthe college beauty, the captain of the sophomore basket-ball team, andother local celebrities.

  "That's evidently a freshman," declared Eleanor Watson, who was in therow behind with Katherine and the Riches. "Doesn't she look lost andunhappy?" And she pointed out a tall, near-sighted girl who was stalkingdejectedly down the middle aisle.

  A vivacious little brunette was sitting next Eleanor. "Pardon me," shesaid sweetly, "but did you mean the girl who's gone around to the sideand is now being received with open arms by most of the faculty? She's asenior, the brightest girl in the class, we think, and she's sad becauseshe's lost her trunk and broken her glasses. You're a freshman, Ijudge?"

  "Thank you, yes," gasped Eleanor with as much dignity as she couldmuster, and resolved to keep her guesses to herself in future.

  The chapel service was short but very beautiful. The president's kindlywelcome to the entering class, "which bids fair to be the largest in thehistory of the institution," completely upset the composure of some ofthe aforesaid class, and a good many moist handkerchiefs grew moister,and red eyes redder during the prayer. But on the whole the class of190- conducted itself with commendable propriety and discretion on thisits first official appearance in the college world.

  "I'm glad I don't have that French exam.," said Katherine, as she andBetty picked out their umbrellas from a great, moist heap in the cornerof the hall. "Come down with me and have a soda."

  Betty shook her head. "I can't. Nan asked me to go with her and Eth--Imean Miss Hale, but I simply must study." And she hurried off to begin.

  At the entrance to the campus Eleanor Watson overtook her. "Let's gohome and study together," she proposed. "I can't see why they left thisFrench till so late in the week, when everybody has it. What did youcome to college for?" she asked abruptly.

  Betty thought a minute. "Why, for the fun of it, I guess," she said.

  "So did I. I think we've stumbled into a pretty serious-minded crowd atMrs. Chapin's, don't you?"

  "I like Miss Morrison awfully well," objected Betty, "and I shouldn'tcall Katherine Kittredge of Kankakee serious-minded, but----"

  "Oh, perhaps not," interrupted Eleanor. "Anyhow I know a lot of finegirls outside, and you must meet them. It's very important to have a lotof friends up here. If you want to amount to anything, you can't juststick with the girls in your own house."

  "Oh, no," said Betty meekly, awed by the display of worldly wisdom. "Itwill be lovely to meet your friends. Let's study on the piazza. I'll getmy books."

  "Wait a minute," said Eleanor quickly. "I want to tell you something. Ihave at least two conditions already, and if I don't pass this French Idon't suppose I can possibly stay."

  "But you don't act frightened a bit," protested Betty in awestrucktones.

  "I am," returned Eleanor in a queer, husky voice. "I could never show myface again if I failed." She brushed the tears out of her eyes. "Now goand get your books," she said calmly, "and don't ever mention thesubject again. I had to tell somebody."

  Betty was back in a moment, looking as if she had seen a ghost. "She'scome," she gasped, "and she's crying like everything."

  "Who?" inquired Eleanor coolly.

  "My roommate--Helen Chase Adams."

  "What did you do?"

  "I didn't say a word--just grabbed up my books and ran. Let's study tillNan comes and then she'll settle it."

  It was almost one o'clock before Nan appeared. She tossed a box of candyto the weary students, and gave a lively account of her morning, whichhad included a second breakfast, three strawberry-ices, a walk to thebridge, half a dozen calls on the campus, and a plunge in theswimming-tank.

  "I didn't dream I knew so many people here," she said. "But now I'veseen them all and they've promised to call on you, Betty, and I must goto-night."

  "Not unless she stops crying," said Betty firmly, and told her story.

  "Go up and ask her to come down-town with us and have a lunch atHolmes's," suggested Nan.

  "Oh you come too," begged Betty, and Nan, amused at the distress of herusually self-reliant sister, obediently led the way up-stairs.

  "Come in," called a tremulous voice.

  Helen Chase Adams had stopped crying, at least temporarily, and wassitting in a pale and forlorn heap on one of the beds. She jumped upwhen she saw her visitors. "I thought it was the man with my trunk," shesaid. "Is one of you my roommate? Which one?"

  "What a nice speech, Miss Adams!" said Nan heartily. "I've been hopingever since I came that somebody would take me for a freshman. But thisis Betty, who's to room with you. Now will you come down-town to lunchwith us?"

  Betty was very quiet on the way down-town. Her roommate was a bitterdisappointment. She had imagined a pretty girl like Eleanor Watson, or ajolly one like Katherine and Rachel; and here was this homely littlething with an awkward walk, a piping voice, and short skirts. "She'lljust spoil everything," thought Betty resentfully, "and it's a mean,hateful shame." Over the creamed chicken, which Nan ordered because itwas Holmes's "specialty," just as strawberry-ice was Cuyler's, thesituation began to look a little more cheerful. Helen Chase Adams wouldcertainly be an obliging roommate.

  "Oh, I wouldn't think of touching the room till you get back from yourFrench," she said eagerly. "Won't it be fun to fix it? Have you a lot ofpretty things? I haven't much, I'm afraid. Oh, no, I don't care a bitwhich bed I have." Her shy, appealing manner and her evident desire toplease would have disarmed a far more critical person than Betty, who,in spite of her love of "fine feathers" and a sort of superficialsnobbishness, was at heart absolutely unworldly, and who took a naiveinterest in all badly dressed people because it was such fun to "planthem over." She applied this process immediately to her roommate.

  "Her hat's on crooked," she reflected, "and her pug's in just the wrongplace. Her shirt-waist needs pulling down in front and she sticks herh
ead out when she talks. Otherwise she'd be rather cute. I hope she'sthe kind that will take suggestions without getting mad." And shehurried off to her French in a very amiable frame of mind.

  Helen Chase Adams thanked Nan shyly for the luncheon, escaped from theterrors of a tete-a-tete with an unfamiliar grown-up on the plea ofhaving to unpack, and curled up on the couch that Betty had not chosen,to think it over. The day had been full of surprises, but Betty was theculmination. Why had she come to college? She was distinctly pretty, shedressed well, and evidently liked what pretty girls call "a good time."In Helen Chase Adams's limited experience all pretty girls were stupid.The idea of seeing crowds of them in the college chapel, much less ofrooming with one, had never entered her head. A college was a place forstudents. Would Miss Wales pass her examination? Would she learn herlessons? What would it be like to live with her day in and day out?Helen could not imagine--but she did not feel in the least like crying.

  Just as the dinner-bell rang, Betty appeared, looking rather tired andpale. "Nan's gone," she announced. "She found she couldn't makeconnections except by leaving at half past five, so she met me down atthe college. And just at the last minute she gave me the money to buy achafing-dish. Wasn't that lovely? I know I should have cried and made agoose of myself, but after tha--I beg your pardon--I haven't any sense."She stopped in confusion.

  But Helen only laughed. "Go on," she said. "I don't mind now. I don'tbelieve I'm going to be homesick any more, and if I am I'll do my bestnot to cry."

  How the rest of that first week flew! Next day the freshman class listwas read, and fortunately it included all the girls at Mrs. Chapin's.Then there were electives to choose, complicated schedules to seethrough, first recitations to find, books to buy or rent, rooms toarrange, and all sorts of bewildering odds and ends to attend to.Saturday came before any one was ready for it, bringing in its wake thefreshman frolic, a jolly, informal dance in the gymnasium, at which thewhole college appears, tagged with its name, and tries to get accustomedto the size of the entering class, preparatory to becoming acquaintedwith parts of it later on. To Betty's great delight Dorothy King met herin the hall of the Administration Building the day before and askedpermission to take her to the frolic. At the gymnasium Miss King turnedher over to a bewildering succession of partners, who asked her thestereotyped questions about liking college, having a pleasantboarding-place, and so on, tried more or less effectively to lead herthrough the crowd to the rather erratic music of one piano, and assuredher that the freshman frolic was not at all like the other collegedances. They all seemed very pleasant, but Betty felt sure she shouldnever know them again. Nevertheless she enjoyed it all immensely and wasalmost sorry when the frolic was over and they adjourned to Dorothy'spretty single room in the Hilton House, where a few other upper-classgirls had been invited to bring their freshmen for refreshments.

  "Wasn't it fun?" said Betty to a fluffy-haired, dainty little girl whosat next her on Dorothy's couch.

  "I don't think I should call it exactly fun," said the girl critically.

  "Oh, I like meeting new people, and getting into a crowd of girls, andtrying to dance with them," explained Betty.

  "Yes, I liked it too," said the girl. She had an odd trick of lingeringover the word she wished to distinguish. "I liked it because it was soqueer. Everything's queer here, particularly roommates. Do you haveone?"

  Betty nodded. "Well, mine never made up her bed in her life before, andfirst she thought she couldn't, but her mother told her to take hold andsee what a Madison could do with a bed--they're awfully proud of theirold family--so she did; but it looks dreadfully messy yet, and it makesher late for chapel every single morning. Is yours anything like that?"

  Betty laughed. "Oh, no," she said. "She's very orderly. Won't you comeand see us?"

  The little freshman promised. By that time the "plowed field" wasready--an obliging friend had stayed at home from the frolic to give itan early start--and they ate the creamy brown squares of candy with amarshmallow stuffed into each, and praised the cook and her wares untila bell rang and everybody jumped up and began saying good-bye at onceexcept Betty, who had to be enlightened by the campus girls as to thedire meaning of the twenty-minutes-to-ten bell.

  "Don't you keep the ten o'clock rule?" asked the fluffy-haired freshmancuriously.

  "Oh, yes," said Betty. "Why, we couldn't come to college if we didn't,could we?" And she wondered why some of the girls laughed.

  "I've had a beautiful time," she said, when Miss King, who had come partway home with her, explained that she must turn back. "I hope that whenI'm a junior I can do half as much for some little freshman as you havefor me."

  "That's a nice way to put it, Miss Wales," said Dorothy. "But don't waittill you're a junior to begin."

  As Betty ran home, she reflected that she had not seen Helen dancingthat evening. "Oh, Helen," she called, as she dashed into the room,"wasn't it fun? How many minutes before our light goes out? Do you knowhow to dance?"

  Helen hesitated. "I--well--I know how, but I can't do it in a crowd.It's ten minutes of ten."

  "Teach you before the sophomore reception," said Betty laconically,throwing a slipper into the closet with one hand and pulling outhairpins with the other. "What a pity that to-morrow's Sunday. We shallhave to wait a whole day to begin."