Beatrice Leigh at College Read online

  CHAPTER II

  ENTER ROBBIE BELLE

  Now it happened one evening in the early fall, while Bea and Lila werelearning to live together, that the Students' Association held a meetingto appoint corridor wardens for the year.

  In the throng that came pouring out of chapel afterward, Bea, who had aneel-like rapidity in gliding through crowds, found herself at the doorssome yards in advance of Lila. Halting to wait in the vestibule, sheoverheard a junior instructing a new freshman officer in her duties.

  "It is very simple. Oh, no, Miss Sanders, no, indeed! There is nothingmeddlesome about it. You're not expected to spy upon the girls in yourneighborhood. The aim is merely to preserve a certain degree of quiet.Girls are often thoughtless about being noisy in the corridors. Simplyremind them now and then in flagrant cases that they are disturbing thosewho wish to study. Of course you must be tactful, though it is rarelythat a student wilfully disregards the rights of others."

  Bea peered around the edge of her particular door in order to catch aglimpse of this freshman so distinguished. It was the tall, fair-facedchild with the splendid long braid, who lived at the end of Berta'stransverse. Now the sweet mouth was drooping disconsolately, and the bigeyes looked dewy with anxious tears.

  "I--I don't think I'd like to," she said.

  "Oh, but it is something that must be done, and you have been selected asthe one in that vicinity who strikes us as best fitted for the duties ofthe position. It is really, you know, a case of public service. Every oneat some time or other ought to be willing to make sacrifices of personaldesires for the good of the community, don't you think? But forgive mefor preaching. I didn't mean to. By the way, how do you like college,Miss Sanders?"

  "It isn't so much fun as I had expected," said she. Bea's head poppedaround the door again. The junior was smiling with an air of amusedsuperiority.

  "Ah, yes, I understand. Probably you used to have a sister or cousin atcollege, and from her letters you supposed that the life was composedchiefly of dancing, fudges and basket-ball with a little work sandwichedin between. Is it not so? And now----"

  "I don't mind the work," here Bea's head popped out a third time tocontemplate this interesting classmate, "but----"

  "Beatrice," called Lila at her other ear, "Berta says to hurry or we'llmiss the best of the fun. It's to be a sheet-and-pillow-case partyto-morrow, and a lot of the girls are coming in to learn how to do thedraping. Berta has an idea. Come along quick!"

  Robbie Belle Sanders stared after them wistfully. "Those girls live nearme," she said, "they have fun all the time."

  The junior's keen glance spied in the open countenance something thatkept her lingering a moment longer. "This is a democratic place," shesaid in a more sympathetic tone, "every girl finds her own level sooneror later. The basis is not money or social rank of the families at home.It is not brains or clothes or stuff like that. It is simply that thesame kind of girls drift together. They're congenial. It seems to be alaw. A general law, you understand. Of course," she hesitated for aninstant before being spurred on by her sense of scrupulous honesty,"there are exceptions. Once in a while a girl fails to find her specialniche. Maybe she rooms off the campus and is not thrown in contact withher own kind. She may be abnormally shy--that hinders her from makingfriends. Or perhaps she does something that queers herself first thing."

  "Queers herself?" echoed Robbie Belle, "how does a person queer herself?"

  "Oh, I don't know." She paused to reflect. "She does outlandish things.And still it isn't what she does so much as what she is. Her acts expressher character. If her character is queer, she behaves queerly, and theothers fight shy of her. After all, I dare say she does find her ownlevel, and there is nobody else there. So she goes along solitary throughthe four years."

  Robbie Belle looked frightened. "I wish I knew what things are queer,"she said.

  "Oh, being different from the other girls, for instance, awfullydifferent, so different that everybody notices it. Not just original, youknow, but actually queer. Watch the girls, particularly those who alwaysgo around alone, and you'll learn. Good-night, Miss Sanders. I mustcongratulate you again on the honor of being appointed freshman warden.Good-night."

  Robbie Belle walked slowly down the corridor to her room. "I wonder if Iam queer," she thought. "I am almost always alone." She halted before adoor that displayed a small square of white paper pinned in the middle ofits upper half. Robbie Belle, her hand on the knob, regarded the signhopelessly. "If you have a roommate who never takes down her ENGAGED, andshe doesn't like company and she won't go anywhere with you herself,maybe you can't help being queer."

  Robbie Belle entered softly. It was a large room and seemed quite barebecause of the absence of curtains, rugs, and cushions. The unsociableroommate was sitting beside the centre table, her elbows propped on itsshiny surface that was innocent of any cover and ignorant of the duster.A green shade over her eyes connected a blur of nondescript hair with arather long nose beneath which a pair of pale lips in the glow of thedrop-light was rapidly gabbling over some lines in Greek scansion.

  Without looking up, she waved one hand forbiddingly; and Robbie Belleobediently shut her mouth over the few words that were ready to beuttered in greeting. She stood waiting in her tracks, so to speak, untilthe final hexameter had wailed out its drawling length, and Miss Cutterpushed back the green shade.

  "Well," she demanded, "what was the important business before themeeting? I could not spare valuable time for self-government foolishnessto-night."

  "They appointed corridor wardens," answered Robbie Belle.

  "Oh, indeed! It is certainly time, I must say. In theory it is all verywell to make the rules a matter of honor, but when you happen to live ina nest of girls who behave as if they were six years old, I insist thatsomething more forcible than chapel admonitions is required. Who is thewarden for this neighborhood?"

  "I am," said Robbie Belle.

  "You are!" Miss Cutter pushed the green shade farther up on her highforehead. "Well, I must say!" She surveyed her roommate with newinterest. "How exceedingly extraordinary!"

  Robbie shifted her weight to the other foot. "I didn't want to be," shesaid.

  "No, of course not, and you nothing but a child yourself. It must be yourheight and that grave way you have of staring. With that baby-face,couldn't they see that your dignity is all on the outside?"

  Robbie said nothing, but if Miss Cutter had not been quite sonear-sighted she might have spied deep in the violet eyes a glint ofblack remotely resembling anger.

  "Think of appealing to a sixteen-year-old infant--really you areliterally in-fans, which is to say, one without the power of speech!Fancy me applying to you to compel quiet in the halls! Imagine thatboisterous crowd trailing after Miss Abbott and Miss Leigh et al.--Hist!"She lifted her head like a warhorse sniffing battle near. "There they arenow."

  Robbie Belle lifted her head too and listened, although indeed the noisewould have penetrated to the most inattentive ears. A multitude of feetwere marching lock-step past the door to a chorus of giggling, stifledsqueals and groans, while at intervals a voice choking with emotion rosein shrill accents: "There was an old woman all skin and bones, o-o-oh!"When it faltered and collapsed on the o-o-oh, the other voices joined inand dragged out the syllable to lugubrious and harrowing length. Thensome one giggled hysterically and another squealed. The soloist took upthe verse: "She went to the church to pray, o-o-oh!" The chorus wailedand moaned and croaked and whimpered and groaned in concert. Miss Cutterregarded Robbie Belle sternly.

  Robbie Belle's shoulders rose and fell over a deep breath. She steppedacross to the door and closed the transom softly just as the next weirdline hissed out above the tumult and then sank into its smothering welterand moan of vowels. Robbie spoke more loudly.

  "One of them said that they were going to dress up in sheets andpillow-cases to-night. They are practicing for the Hallowe'en party. It'sonly fun."

  Berta's voice--it was Berta who did the solo
--here rose in a quaveringshriek that halted not for keys in their holes or transoms in theirsockets: "The worms crawled in and the worms crawled out, o-o-o-oh!"

  Miss Cutter rose to her indignant feet. "Roberta Sanders, as you are thecorridor warden for this neighborhood, I appeal to you. I make formalcomplaint----"

  "They've gone." Robbie Belle smiled in relief and sat down ratherquickly. The lock-step had receded into the muffled distance and theear-splitting wail wafted back in tones that grew steadily fainter.

  Miss Cutter took off her glasses, rubbed them bright, put them on again,and contemplated Robbie Belle.

  "I do believe that you would rather I suffered than that they becameoffended with you. You are afraid to rebuke them."

  Robbie's eyes fell and the guilty color rose slowly through the delicateskin of throat and brow. But Miss Cutter did not see it. She had pulleddown the green shade and propping her elbows in their former position hadreturned to her scansion. She had wasted too much time already.

  Conscience-smitten Robbie Belle slid silently through the door and stoodat loss for a minute in the deserted corridor. It was Friday night.Nobody studied on Friday night except girls who were queer or who roomedwith superior special students like Miss Cutter. On her first day atcollege Miss Cutter had remarked that there might be a vacant seat ofcongenial minds for Robbie at her table. Somehow the grave young freshmanwho was hoping for fun failed to find them satisfying. She had not won areal friend yet, and here it was the end of October.

  Robbie Belle was not conceited enough to feel sorry for herself, or elseshe might have perceived a certain pathos in that listless journey of alonely child from her worse than solitary room to the deadly quiet of thelibrary. One of the hilarious ghosts who were weaving spells under theevergreens happened to glance in through a great softly shining windowand recognized the drooping head above a long deserted table between theshelves of books.

  "There's our noble warden," whispered Bea, "studying on Friday night!Looks like a dig as well as a prig, n'est-ce-pas?"

  Berta's eager dark face grew sober under the swathing folds of herpillow-case. "Maybe it isn't her fault," she said.

  But Robbie Belle unaware of this precious drop of sympathy ploddedthrough an essay on Intellect, wrote out a laborious analysis, and at thestroke of the nine-thirty gong crept reluctantly back to her room. Thenext morning she translated her Latin, committed a geometricaldemonstration to a faithful memory, consumed a silent luncheon amid adizzying cross-fire of psychological arguments, walked around the garden,through the pines and over the orchard hill for a scrupulously full hourof exercise, read her physiology notes, and composed one page of herweekly theme before dinner time. After dinner she stood in a corner ofParlor J and watched the dancing. Then she went to chapel with MissCutter, returned alone in haste to dress in the concealing sheet andpillow case. It was rather difficult to manage the drapery without aid,especially in the back and at the sides. The strange junior who hadchosen Robbie's name from the class list and undertaken to escort her tothe party found awaiting her a rumpled young ghost with raiment thatsagged and bagged quite distressingly in unexpected places. But the eyesthat shone from between the crooked bands of white were joyous withexcitement. In this disguise she was sure that no one would recognizeher; and so of course they would not know that she was queer, and perhapsshe would have fun at last.

  And at first it really seemed as if she would. Imagine a big gymnasiumwith jack-o'-lanterns on the rafters and a blazing wood-fire in the widefireplace, and five hundred figures in white circling and mingling amongthe shadows, and at least a thousand sticks of candy, and three bigdish-pans full of peanuts, and gallons and gallons of red lemonade. Whenher escort proposed that they should go up-stairs to look in upon theseniors and sophomores who were having a country dance, Robbie Bellemoistened her lips and said, "If you please, don't wait for me. I enjoyit so much here." Then at the junior's formal, "Oh, certainly, MissSanders!" she remembered that often people did not understand her unlessshe used a bothersome number of words. So she added hastily, "I mean thatyou must go with your own friends and leave me here, because I amwatching some girls I know, and I want to speak to them. Please don'ttrouble any more about me, thank you."

  "I do know them," she assured herself as her escort disappeared, "and Ido want to speak to them even if they don't know me. I think"--shehesitated and turned quite pale at the prospect of such daring, "I thinkI shall go and play with them. They will suppose I am one of them. Nobodywill know."

  At this point the file of impudent ghosts, headed by Berta, who lookedunusually tall and still angular under her flowing sheet, paraded pastRobbie Belle's corner, their elbows flapping like wings. With a gasp forcourage she took one step forward and found herself prancing along at theend of the line.

  It was such fun! Robbie Belle had shot up to an annoying stature socomparatively early in life that her romping days seemed to have brokenshort off in the middle. She had never had enough of tag andhide-and-seek and coasting. She hated long skirts. Indeed that was onereason why she longed to join the enviable circle of freshmen aroundBerta: they wore golf skirts all day long, except when hockey called forthe gymnasium costume or bicycling demanded its appropriate array. Thereason why she liked Miss Abbott best of course was because her name wasRoberta, too.

  On this Hallowe'en, in joyous faith in her disguise, she forgot herheight and breadth and the dignity imposed thereby. And anyhow BertaAbbott was just as tall, if not of such stately proportions. So RobbieBelle with exulting zest in the frolic raced up-stairs and down with themischievous band of freshmen. They skipped saucily around members of thefaculty, chased appreciative juniors, frightened the smallest forms intoscuttling flight, and gave their great performance of "There was an oldwoman all skin and bones," in the middle of the upper hall, where theseniors were entertaining the sophomores.

  It was fun to howl. It was so long since Robbie Belle had grown up thatshe had almost forgotten the joy of using her lungs to their fullcapacity. With her spirits dancing in the afterglow of such vocalexercise, she marched after the others down to the hall below. There inthe vestibule Berta halted her followers for final instructions.

  "Now, girls, fall into line according to height. We are going toastonish----Why!" She fixed two amazed dark eyes upon the tallest, "whoare you?"

  Robbie Belle heard; she felt her heart shriveling within her; hershoulders seemed to shrink together; her head drooped. Then turning awayslowly she moved toward the gymnasium apartment, a loose corner of herrobe trailing at her abashed heels. But she did not escape swiftly enoughto avoid catching the sound of hisses.

  "Ha! an interloper!"

  "Hist! ye false intruder!"

  "Seize him! To the shambles!"

  "To the guillotine! Ho, brothers! pursue!"

  That made Robbie Belle flee so fast that she was able to take refugebehind Prexie himself while the vengeful furies withdrew to a respectfuldistance. That night when she was shaking her pillow back into its caseRobbie noticed some damp spots amid its creases. A few minutes later shelaid her head down on it and proceeded to create some more. There wasonly one comfort in the throng of scorching reflections: this was that ithad not been Berta's voice that had called her an intruder. Perhaps Bertadid not think she had done something so awfully wicked after all.

  This faint hope infused more dreadful bitterness into the incident thathappened in mathematics C on Monday. Anybody would have believed thatBerta was offended past forgiveness. She sat next to Robbie. She was notvery well prepared that morning, possibly in consequence of Saturday'sexcitement. The instructor was more than usually curt and crisp with anunsmiling sternness that struck terror to palpitating freshman hearts. Inthe middle of the hour Berta became aware that a problem was travelingrapidly down the row toward her; and she had not been paying attention.She had not even noticed the statement of it, for it had started at anapparently safe distance from her seat. Turning with a swift motion ofthe lips she asked Robbie Belle to tell her. An
d Robbie Belle--how shelonged to tell it! It had almost leaped from her lips while consciencereasoned wildly against it as deceit. It would not be honest. Andyet--and yet--the girls would think she was queer. They would say she wasmean and priggish, for she might have told Berta as easily as not.

  There! the third girl from Berta was trying to explain her own ignoranceand failing brilliantly. Now the second was stammering through atransparent bluff. Berta had settled back, coolly resigned to fate. Howshe must suffer, after having stooped to ask for aid! Poor Robbie Belle!Poor, lonely, disappointed Robbie Belle! For strange to say she flunkedtoo and the question journeyed on triumphantly to the mathematicalprodigy at the end of the row.

  In the corridor outside Berta exerted her nimble self to overtake MissSanders, who was sidling away in a strikingly unprincesslike manner, hereyes shifting guiltily.

  "So you didn't know the answer either? Wasn't that the biggest joke onme! And really, Miss Sanders, I beg your pardon for asking. It popped outbefore I could gather my wits. I am scared to death in that class, thoughof course that is no excuse for sponging. I'm glad you didn't know itenough to tell me after all."

  Robbie Belle lifted the lashes from her flushed cheeks. "I--I did knowit," she said with a gulp.

  "Oh!" said Berta, and stared, "how--how peculiar!"

  Robbie Belle held back the tears till she had reached her room, seizedher hat and snatched her thickest veil. Then she fled to the loneliestwalk among the pines. Her veil was a rarity that rendered her an objectof curiosity to everybody she passed on the way. But she hurried on,somewhat comforted by the conviction that no one could mark her reddenedeyelids. In truth she had good need of comfort, for Berta Abbott herselfhad said that she was peculiar. And peculiar meant queer!

  That evening Robbie sat down to study for the Latin test announced forthe next day. Miss Cutter was studying, too, harder than ever. The greenshade was pulled so fiercely forward that a fringe of hair stood up in acrown where the elastic had rumpled it. Her grammar, lexicon andtext-book occupied most of the table, but Robbie did not complain. Shecould manage very well by laying her books, one on the open face ofanother, in her lap. For once she was grateful that an ENGAGED signshielded them from interruptions, for Latin was her shakiest subject,especially the rules of indirect discourse. The instructor had warned theclass that this weak spot was to be the point of attack. If Robbie Belleshould not succeed in drumming the rules into her head before the ideasin it began to spin around and around in their usual dizzy fashion whenshe waxed sleepy, she might just as well stay away from the recitationroom. Or better perhaps, for in absence there was a possibility of bothdoubt and hope: hope on Robbie Belle's part that she might have been ableto answer the questions if she had been there, on the teacher's partdoubt concerning the exact extent of the pupil's knowledge.

  At the end of the corridor just outside their door a narrow stairway ledto the north tower rooms on the floor above. Beatrice Leigh and LilaAllan and a number of their liveliest friends lived up there on thefifth, with Berta Abbott at the foot of the stairs near Robbie's place ofabode.

  Just as Robbie's usually serene brow was puckering its hardest over thesequence of tenses, a door banged open in the tower and the stairscreaked under swift clatter of feet--a dozen at the very least.

  Miss Cutter scowled beneath the green shade; Robbie Belle could tell thatfrom the way the fringe of upright hair vibrated.

  "Savages!" she muttered, "they'll tear the building to pieces. No wonderthe newspapers report that the college girl's favorite mode of locomotionis sliding down the banisters."

  "No," said Robbie Belle, "not that. They take hold of the railing andjump several steps at a time. I've seen them. Miss Leigh says she does itfor exercise."

  "And this also is exercise!" Miss Cutter clutched her ears as a tornadoswept past their threshold.

  Robbie bent to listen anxiously. "They're going to the ice-cooler," shesaid, "pretty soon they will go back again."

  "Yes," said Miss Cutter as she rose and moved toward the door, "they willdoubtless go back, and doubtless also they shall go in a differentmanner."

  Then she went out and remonstrated briefly but to the point. Whereuponthe culprits apologized with noble profusion and tiptoed their way to thestairs. This would have been an admirable proof of repentance if theirheels had not persisted in coming down on the bare boards in very loudclicks at very short intervals. And every click was greeted by areproving chorus of "Sh-sh-sh!"

  The instant they reached the hall above, pandemonium broke loose. Tojudge from the sounds, they were playing blindman's buff with scamperingof heavy shoes, scraping of chairs, banging against walls, flopping onmattresses. Even reluctant Robbie Belle looked upward in fear that theceiling might fall. When a deputation of wild eyed sophomores from anadjacent study arrived to protest against a continuation of the outrage,the shrinking corridor-warden had no loophole for escape from her duty.Outwardly calm, inwardly quivering, she mounted the stairs to expostulateon behalf of the Students' Association for Self-Government.

  When the peace officer reached the foot of the flight, the noise sankabruptly into a silent scurrying--on unadulterated tiptoes this time.When she appeared at the top, she beheld the tower hall deserted, everydoor shut and a suspiciously profound stillness reigning in the dimlylighted Paradise of fun. Ah! she drew a breath of relief from away downin her boots. Surely now she had performed her duty. Nobody could expecther to find fault after the disturbance had ceased. Now the girls belowwould be at liberty to study in peace.

  Barely had she completed her hurried descent before the strange silenceabove was shattered suddenly by the simultaneous banging of seven doors.Seven full-lunged voices burst forth into a howling song, while twice asmany feet thumped and tapped and pranced and pounded in the mazes of anextemporaneous jig.

  Robbie Belle halted instantly, with a quick lift of her head. Hernostrils quivered. Her violet eyes snapped black. Her hands clenched.Turning swiftly she mounted the stairs once more. But this time she wasangry. The uproar was an insult to the authority of the Students'Association. She forgot for the minute all about shy Robbie Belle.

  And the mischievous freshmen above--the flippant fun-loving irresponsiblesix-year-old freshmen--they waited ready to meet the warden with animpudent burst of revelry, and thus to dash her official dignity from itsexasperating estate. When they saw Robbie Belle's face they simplystared. They listened in silence to the few rapid words that stung andburned and smarted. They watched her depart, her head still held at itsangle of wrathful justice. Then they looked at one another.

  They could not see how, when once safely in the haven of her room, shebroke down utterly and lay trembling and sobbing in Miss Cutter'sastonished arms. Now at last she had surely committed an unpardonableoffense against the only girls for whom she cared in the wholecollegeful--especially Berta. Now Berta would be certain she was queer.

  Meanwhile in the tower, Berta drew a long breath and glanced around ather dismayed and sobered companions.

  "The more I see of that girl," she said, "the better I like her. And wehave been awfully silly--that's a fact. The next time I see her I shalltell her so too. Now suppose we go and do a little studying our ownselves."

  Somehow or other before Thanksgiving Day, Robbie Belle Sanders had ceasedto be disappointed in college. With Berta for a dearest friend and MissCutter withdrawn to a more congenial neighborhood, she was finding iteven more fun than she had expected.