Beatrice Leigh at College

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER IX

  THIS VAIN SHOW

  It was the first evening at college in their junior year. Upon coming outof the dining-room Lila caught sight of Bea waiting at the elevator door.Dodging three seniors, a maid with a tray, and a man with a truck full oftrunks, she made a dash for the new arrival who in a sudden freak ofperversity danced tantalizingly just beyond reach.

  "You imp! And I haven't seen you for three months. Help me!" she beckonedto Berta who that moment emerged from dinner, "run around that side andcatch her."

  But Bea, swiftly subsiding from her mischievous agility, stood still andregarded them with an air of surprised, sad dignity as the two flungthemselves upon her.

  "Young ladies, I am astonished at such behavior. Leading juniors--real,live, brand-new juniors--and to display such lack of self-restraint, suchdisdain of gracefulness and repose! Oh!" her voice changed magically,"oh, you, dear sweet, darling girls, I love you pretty well."

  "Then why," queried Berta, gasping as she released herself, "then why, Irepeat, do you endeavor to choke us to death?"

  "Because," answered Bea, as she meekly allowed Lila to straighten her hatwhile Berta rescued her satchel from the middle of the corridor, "becauseyou are so nice and noble and haven't any false feeling about littletokens of affection like that. In fact, you haven't any false pride oranything false, and I have a tale of woe to tell you by and by. HereafterI intend to be a typical college girl, not an exception."

  The promised by and by proved to be the hour of unpacking after chapelservices. While Bea was emptying her satchel that night she snatched up alittle fringed napkin and shook it vigorously before the other girls.

  "See the crumbs! Thereby hangs the tale. Now, listen.

  This summer we have been feeling rather poor at home, you know. Myfather's firm was forced to make an assignment. It wasn't his fault, youunderstand; it was because of the hard times. Every few days we wouldhear of a bank closing its doors or a factory shutting down. People havebeen cutting off expenses in all directions. Of course my family has toeconomize. I am thankful enough to be able to come back to college. Abouta dozen girls in the class have dropped out this year of the panic. Iknew that I could earn fifty dollars or more by tutoring and carryingmail, if I once got here. That will help quite a lot toward books andpostage and ordinary personal expenses. Father said he could manage thefive hundred for board and tuition. You had better believe that I do notintend to be needlessly extravagant, when my mother is keeping housewithout a maid, and my father is riding to his office on a bicycle.

  Now I rather suspect that this explanation is no excuse for the foolishway I behaved on the journey to college that September. But the summerhas been so horrid, and two or three acquaintances changed around afterthe failure and treated us as if we had ceased to be worth noticing. Ofcourse I know that such persons are not worth noticing themselves, stillit did hurt a little. I guess the reason why I pretended to have plentyof money while traveling with Celia was because I was afraid of beinghurt again. And then too I remembered how she had said one evening theyear before when we were playing Truth that she despised stinginessbeyond any other vice. That had made an impression on me because I wasjust going to say the very same thing myself.

  Celia is a new student who is to join our class this year. We met herlast spring when she came up from a boarding-school in New York to visita senior. You remember her? It was at a fudge party in her honor that weplayed the game of Truth, to which I have already alluded. She is thekind of person who is generally asked to be an usher at a hall play or onFounder's Day. She is tall, holds her head high, has an air. The doctorherself said when she saw her in chapel the evening of her visit, "Who isthat striking girl?" She dresses beautifully too; and I think I shall askher to let me put down her name for two dances next month, if my cousinand his roommate come from Yale for the reception.

  Being new to the college atmosphere, she had an excuse for the way sheacted on the journey. An excuse that I did not have, you know--and I knowtoo. But as for that, more anon, anon! At present I start in and continueby stating that on a certain September day I was sitting by myself in theUnion Station at Chicago, while I waited for my train. I had arrived twohours before, and I was hungry, and I was also, as explained above,strongly inclined to be economical. And therefore I was eating myluncheon out of a pasteboard box, instead of going to a restaurant.

  On my lap was a fringed napkin upon which reposed one slice of chocolatecake with frosting, one big peach, and seven large white grapes eachcontaining at least three seeds. Just at the very moment when I took abite of the peach, hoping that none of the weary passengers around me wastaking notes, for that peach was certainly juicy,--just at that exactmoment, I happened to glance across to the door. There was Celia Lane,with her head higher than ever, looking up and down for an empty seat.And the only empty seat in the whole waiting-room was next to mine. Andmy lap was strewn with an economical luncheon.

  It was silly of me. I admit that once and forever, and shall not repeatit again. But like lightning her remark about stinginess flashed into mymind. Before she had taken the second step in my direction, I had crammedall those seven grapes into my mouth, bundled the napkin with crumbs,cake and pit into my satchel, shoved it under the bench, and rosenonchalantly swallowing the grapes whole as I haughtily lifted my chin inorder to survey my worthless companions. Then of course my eyes fell uponher, and I started forward in vivacious greeting.

  I don't believe she had recognized me before, for she said, "Oh!" with aqueer little gasp. Then she put out her hand in that cordial way of hers.It made me think that I was the person she had been longing to find. Sheinquired what road I was going on, and said, "Ah, yes, what a charmingcoincidence!" But honestly it seemed to me that there was a worriedexpression in her eyes.

  And there I sat miserably shaking in my old shoes. It may appear funny toyou, but it was an awful feeling. Even now months afterward I never wantto smile at the memory. You see, it costs five dollars to ride in aPullman car from Chicago to New York. I had planned to go into the commonpassenger coach until nightfall, and thus save two dollars and a halftoward books for the new semester. That sounds a bit mean and sordid,doesn't it? And I know my family would have objected if I had told them,because the sleeping-cars are much safer in case of accidents. Oh, how Ihated to say anything about it! You can't imagine. I wonder how Bertawould express it with literary vividness. Maybe she might say that she"shrank in every fibre." But it was worse than that--I just didn't wantto, I simply couldn't.

  WE HANDED OVER FIVE DOLLARS APIECE]

  The hand of the clock kept moving around--oh, lots faster than it haddone before Celia appeared. When it was nearly time for the train to beready, I began to mutter and mumble and finally managed to remark that Ithought I had better see about engaging my berth. What do you suppose?She gave a sort of astonished jump and exclaimed, "Why, I must too." Sowe both marched over to the agent's window and handed over five dollarsapiece. I was dying to ask her to go shares with me, because one berth isplenty--or, I mean almost plenty--large enough for two. But though Iopened my mouth a few times and coughed once, I absolutely did not dareto propose such a penurious plan. She might have thought me close-fisted,and perhaps she would not have slept very well either.

  No sooner had we settled ourselves in the sleeper, than I began to worryabout the meals. Naturally she would assume that I intended to go intothe dining-car every time. Most of the girls do as a matter of course. Infact I remember feeling condescending whenever I saw anybody eating froma box while the other passengers were filing down the aisle, or up,whichever it happened to be. This year I was to be one of the braveunfortunates left behind in their seats.

  Well, very likely you understand that people while traveling really oughtnot to eat so heartily as usual. Much food in a dining-car clogs thesystem and ventilates the pocketbook, so to speak. I appreciated myselfhard for being right and noble and abstemious and foresighted--withrespect to the semester's expenses,
you perceive, and also self-denyingand self-reliant. There are a number of selfs in that sentence, likewisein the idea and in my mind at the time. I don't believe honestly thatpoverty is good for the character, though Berta says that she knows itisn't good for anything else.

  Celia and I went out to sit on the rear platform of the observation-car.The scenery was not particularly interesting in comparison with Colorado;and consequently I had spare energy for meditating on Emerson's essaysand his observation that "What I must do is all that concerns me, notwhat the people think." I wish I were strong-minded. To reflectsincerely, however, I don't believe it is so much a question of a strongmind as of a weak imagination. If I had been unable to imagine what Celiamight think, doubtless I wouldn't have bothered about it.

  But I was bothered. The sensation of botheration deepened and swelled andwidened as supper time drew nearer and nearer, and every moment Iexpected to hear the waiter's voice intoning behind me, "Supper is nowready in the dining-car." What made this state of affairs all the sadderwas the memory of springing gladness inspired by the same sound onprevious journeys. I sat there dreading and dreading and dreading. Andthen, what do you think? Celia was asking me about Lila and Berta andRobbie Belle and the fun we have and incidentally something about thework. I was talking so fast that I forgot all about being poor. When thewaiter's voice suddenly rang out at the end of the car, I jumped upinstantly just as I had always done on former occasions of the samenature. And I exclaimed, "I am simply starved to death."

  Then I remembered and sat down so quickly that my camp-chair tippedagainst Celia and knocked her over so that she might have fallen off theplatform if there had not been a railing around it. That catastrophecreated such a flurry of anxieties, apologies, and so forth, that Isucceeded in letting the crisis slip past unmolested. At least, thatfirst crisis did. The second crisis arrived a little later when the voicebehind us rang out again with, "Second call to supper in the dining-car."I glanced sidewise at Celia just in time to catch her glancing sidewiseat me. That made me spring lightly to my feet, I can tell you. Was shegetting suspicious? Was she too courteous to suggest an extravagance therefusal of which might hurt my pride? Was she wondering why I seemed tohave forgotten that I was starving to death, if not already starved?

  So I said in a tone of patient consideration, "Shall we wait any longer,Miss Lane?" She jumped up like a flash, and her face was quite red.

  "No, indeed! Not on my account certainly." She emphasized the my sodistinctly that I was sure she suspected. That dreadful thought caused meto stiffen my manner, and as hers had been strangely stiff all theafternoon, we were awfully polite to each other during supper. Each of usinsisted upon paying the bill and feeing the waiter. It was terrible. Icouldn't afford to pay it all, and yet I was too silly to give ingracefully, especially as some other passengers were listening, and thewaiter hovered near. Finally it resulted in his receiving twice the sum,half for the bill, and half for a fee. I hope he appreciated it.

  Then we talked politely to each other for an hour or two before going tobed. And in the morning, there was the problem of breakfast confrontingme.

  The problem woke me early. Being poor is bad for the health as well asbad for the character, I think. Probably it is bad for the soul also. Ormaybe it is not the poverty so much as being ashamed of it that pervertsa person's life. Well, actually I almost cherished the deceitful plot ofgetting up so early that I should be already dressed before Celia wouldappear, and then I could tell her that I had been so hungry that I hadeaten my breakfast alone. It would have been true too, because I intendedto nibble my malted milk tablets behind a magazine. But this plan came tonaught; for when I poked my head out between the curtains I saw Celiaherself staggering toward the dressing-room with her satchel. Thereupon Ilay down again and nibbled the tablets in the berth. That would enable meto assert truthfully that I was not hungry and did not care for breakfastin the diner.

  Oh, dear! Wasn't it awful! I did tell her that very thing, and she saidshe didn't believe she was hungry either. Then we were polite to eachother till noon. When the waiter's dreaded voice once more rang out, Imade my little speech that I had been composing all the morning. It wasas follows:

  "Don't wait for me, Miss Lane. I consider that over-eating is a heinousfault among Americans, and so I have decided to omit the dining-car forthe remainder of this journey. Pray, do not let me keep you."

  She said, "Why, that's exactly what I think, too."

  Just fancy! And there I was almost famished. I thought she would leave meat once, and I could have a chance to eat the luncheon spoiling in mybox. Chicken sandwiches and jelly and olives and salted almonds and fruitand cake and everything good. I had been thinking of it for hours.

  What could I do? There she sat, and there I sat in plain sight of eachother, being in the same seat for the sake of sociability, though hersection was the one in front of mine. She seemed rather quiet andformal--not so much stiff as limp, so to speak. Still there was nocordiality about it. Just as I felt I could not stand starvation anotherminute, she rose and said she believed she would go into theobservation-car for a while. She did not invite me to accompany her, andI made no offer to go. I simply sat and smiled and watched her fumble inher bag for a few minutes before extricating what was apparently a rolledup magazine. Then she marched down the aisle. The instant she hadvanished into the vestibule, I made a dive for my box. In just thirtyseconds I had consumed half a sandwich and a slice of cake. I kept myeyes on the spot where she had disappeared, you had better believe. Oh,wasn't I silly? But then, I promised not to allude to that obvious factagain. That lunch tasted good. And I had plenty of time to eat all Iwanted, though I cut short the chewing process.

  When it was all down to the very last olive, I brushed off all the crumbsI could see, and decided to walk into the observation car and be politeagain. So I did. And what do you suppose? Through the glass at the rear Isaw her sitting sort of sidewise so that one eye could watch the doorwhere I was entering. It seemed to me that she gave a little quiver as Icame within view, and then actually she threw something overboard. Peoplealways see more than you think they do. At least I saw that, and shethought I didn't, for when I emerged upon the platform she looked up witha surprised smile of welcome and said, "Isn't the river beautiful!"

  I said, "Oh, isn't it!" and then I gazed at it very hard and attentivelyso as to give her a chance to wipe the spot of jelly from her shirtwaist.She had been eating her luncheon too. She had carried it wrapped up inthe funneled magazine. She had been ashamed to acknowledge that sheneeded to be economical, too. I saw it all in a flash. She had intendedto ride in the common coach and save pullman fare, just like me. Andthere we had been racing, neck and neck, trying to keep up with eachother.

  "Oh, dear!" I said at last, "I wish we had taken a berth together andsaved our two dollars and a half apiece."

  I heard her give a little gasp and I felt her staring at me. The nextminute she said, "There are crumbs on your necktie too." And then shebent down her head and laughed and laughed and laughed till I had tolaugh too.

  "I hope it'll be a lesson to us," I said at last.

  She wiped the tears from her lashes. "It will be. I expect to berepenting for weeks ahead,--at least, until my next allowance comes in.But, you! Why, Miss Leigh, it seems so queer. I thought the college girlwas different as a rule--independent and frank and--oh, pardonme--and--and so forth."

  "She is," I assured her sadly, "as a rule. But I am an exception. I provethe rule."