CHAPTER XVIII
BEARDING THE LIONS
Ruth had shown a very cheerful face before Rebecca Frayne, but when shewas once out of the room the girl of the Red Mill did not show such asuperabundance of cheerfulness.
She knew well enough that Rebecca had become so unpopular that publicopinion could not be changed regarding her in a moment.
Besides, there were the two upper classes to be considered. Their orderregarding the freshmen's head-covering had been flagrantly disobeyed,and would have to be disobeyed for some time to come. A girl cannotcrochet a tam-o'-shanter in a minute.
Having undertaken to straighten out Rebecca Frayne's troubles, however,Ruth did not publicly shrink from the task. She was one who made up hermind quickly, and having made it up, set to work immediately to carrythe matter through.
Merry Dexter, the first senior she had met upon coming to Ardmore, waskindly disposed toward her, and Ruth knew that Miss Dexter was aninfluential member of her class. Therefore, Ruth took her trouble--andRebecca's--directly to Miss Dexter.
Yet, she did not feel that she had a right to explain, even to this onesenior, all that Rebecca Frayne had confided to her. She realized thatthe girl, with her false standards of respectability and socialstanding, would never be able to hold up her head at college if her realfinancial situation were known to the girls in general. Ruth was bound,however, to take Miss Dexter somewhat into her confidence to obtain ahearing. She put the matter before the senior as nicely as possible,saying in conclusion:
"And she will knit herself a tam of the proper color just as soon aspossible. No girl, you know, Miss Dexter, likes to admit that she ispoor. It is dreadfully embarrassing. So I hope that this matter will beadjusted without her situation being discussed."
"Goodness! _I_ can't change things," the senior declared. "Not unlessthat girl agrees to do as she is told--like the rest of you freshies."
"Then my opinion of your class, Miss Dexter," Ruth said firmly, "must beentirely wrong. I did not believe that they ordered us to wear baby bluetams just out of an arbitrary desire to make us obey. Had I believed_that_ I would not have bought a new tam myself!"
"You wouldn't?"
"No, Miss Dexter. Nor would a great many of us freshmen. We believed theorder had a deeper significance--and it _had_. It helped our class gettogether. We are combined now, we are a social body. And I believe thatif I took this matter up with Rebecca's class, and explained just hersituation to them (which, of course, I do not want to do), the freshmenas a whole would back me in a revolt against the upper classes."
"You're pretty sure of that, Ruth Fielding, are you?" demanded thesenior.
"Yes, I am. We'd all refuse to wear the new tams. You seniors andjuniors would have a nice time sending us all to Coventry, wouldn't you?If you didn't want to eat with us, you'd all go hungry for a long timebefore the freshmen would do as Rebecca foolishly did."
Miss Dexter laughed at that. And then she hugged Ruth.
"I believe you are a dear girl, with a lot of good sense in your head,"she said. "But you must come before our executive committee and talk tothem."
"Oh, dear! Beard the lions in their den?" cried Ruth.
"Yes, my dear. I cannot be your spokesman."
Ruth found this a harder task than she had bargained for; but she wentthat same evening to a hastily called meeting of the senior committee.Perhaps Miss Dexter had done more for her than she agreed, however, forRuth found these older girls very kind and she seemingly made themeasily understand Rebecca's situation without being obliged to say injust so many words that the girl was actually poverty-stricken.
And it was probable, too, that Ruth Fielding helped herself in thisincident as much as she did her classmate. The members of the olderclasses thereafter gave the girl of the Red Mill considerably moreattention than she had previously received. Ruth began to feel surprisedthat she had so many warm friends and pleasant acquaintances in thecollege, even among the sophomores of Edith Phelps' stamp. Edith Phelpsfound her tart jokes about the "canned-drama authoress" falling ratherflat, so she dropped the matter.
Older girls stopped on the walks to talk to Ruth. They sat beside her inchapel and at other assemblies, and seemed to like to talk with her.Although Ruth did not hold an office in her own class organization, yetshe bade fair to become soon the most popular freshman at Ardmore.
Ruth was perfectly unconscious of this fact, for she had not a spark ofvanity in her make-up. Her mind was so filled with other and moreimportant things that her social conquests impressed her but little. Shedid, however, think a good bit about poor Rebecca Frayne's situation.She warned her personal friends among the freshmen, especially those atDare Hall, to say nothing to Rebecca about the unfortunate affair.
Rebecca came into the dining-room again. Ruth knew that she had actuallybegun to crochet a baby blue tam-o'-shanter. But it was a question inRuth's mind if the odd girl would be able to "keep up appearances" onthe little money she had left and that which her brother could send herfrom time to time. It was quite tragic, after all. Rebecca was sure ofgood and sufficient food as long as she could pay her board; but thegirl undoubtedly needed other things which she could not purchase.
Naturally, youth cannot give its entire attention to even so tragic amatter as this. Ruth's gay friends acted as counterweights in her mindto Rebecca's troubles.
The girls were out on the lake very frequently as the cold weathercontinued; but Ruth never saw again the strange girl whom she and Helenhad interviewed at night on Bliss Island.
Hearing from Aunt Alvirah as she did with more or less frequency, thegirl of the Red Mill was assured that Maggie seemed content and wasproving a great help to the crippled old housekeeper. Maggie seemedquite settled in her situation.
"Just because that queer girl looked like Maggie doesn't prove thatMaggie knows her," Ruth told herself. "Still--it's odd."
Stormy weather kept the college girls indoors a good deal; and thegeneral sitting-room on Ruth's corridor became the most social spot inthe whole college.
The girls whose dormitory rooms were there, irrespective of class, allshared in the furnishing of the sitting-room. Second-hand furniture isalways to be had of dealers near an institution like Ardmore. Besides,the girls all owned little things they could spare for the generalcomfort, like Rebecca Frayne's alcohol lamp.
Helen had a tea set; somebody else furnished trays. In fact, all the"comforts of home" were supplied to that sitting-room; and the girlswere considered very fortunate by their mates in other parts of thehall, and, indeed, in the other three dormitory buildings.
But during the holiday recess something happened that bade fair todeprive Ruth and her friends of their special perquisite. Dr. McCurdy'swife's sister came to Ardmore. The McCurdys did not keep house,preferring to board. They could find no room for Mrs. Jaynes, until itwas remembered that there was an unassigned dormitory room at Dare Hall.
Many of the girls had gone home over the brief holidays; but our threefriends from Briarwood had remained at Ardmore.
So Ruth and Helen and Jennie Stone chanced to be among the girls presentwhen the housekeeper of Dare Hall came into the sitting-room and, toquote Jennie, informed them that they must "vamoose the ranch."
"That is what Ann Hicks would call it," Jennie said, defending herlanguage when taken to task for it. "We've just got to get out--and it'sa mean shame."
Dr. McCurdy was one of the important members of the faculty. Of course,the girls on that corridor had no real right to the extra room. All theycould do was to voice their disappointment--and they did that, one maybe sure, with vociferation.
"And just when we had come to be so comfortably fixed here," groanedone, when the housekeeper had departed. "I know I shall dis-_like_ thatMrs. Jaynes extremely."
"We won't speak to her!" cried Helen, in a somewhat vixenish tone.
"Maybe she won't care if we don't," laughed Ruth.
But it was no laughing matter, as they all felt. They made a gloomyparty in
the pretty sitting-room that last evening of its occupancy as acommunity resort.
"There's Clara Mayberry in her rocker again on that squeaky board,"Rebecca Frayne remarked. "I hope she rocks on that board every eveningover this woman's head who has turned us out."
"Let's all hope so," murmured Helen.
Jennie Stone suddenly sat upright in the rocker she was occupying, butcontinued to glare at the ceiling. A board in the floor of the roomabove had frequently annoyed them before. Clara Mayberry sometimesforgot and placed her rocker on that particular spot.
"If--if she had to listen to that long," gasped Jennie suddenly, "shewould go crazy. She's just that kind of nervous female. I saw her atchapel this morning."
"But even Clara couldn't stand the squeak of that board long," Ruthobserved, smiling.
Without another word Jennie left the room. She came back later, so fullof mystery, as Helen declared, that she seemed on the verge of bursting.
However, Jennie refused to explain herself in any particular; but theboard in Clara Mayberry's room did not squeak again that evening.