BETTY WALES

  FRESHMAN

  by

  MARGARET WARDE

  Author of

  Betty Wales, Sophomore Betty Wales, Junior Betty Wales, Senior Betty Wales, B. A. Betty Wales & Co. Betty Wales on the Campus Betty Wales Decides

  "I'M IN A DREADFUL FIX"]

  The Penn PublishingCompany Philadelphia1921

  Copyright 1904byThe Penn Publishing Company

  Betty Wales, Freshman

  Contents

  I First Impressions 7 II Beginnings 21 III Dancing Lessons and a Class-Meeting 35 IV Whose Photograph? 50 V Up Hill--and Down 63 VI Letters Home 80 VII A Dramatic Chapter 95 VIII After the Play 112 IX Paying the Piper 128 X A Rumor 146 XI Mid-years and a Dust-Pan 166 XII A Triumph for Democracy 185 XIII Saint Valentine's Assistants 208 XIV A Beginning and a Sequel 233 XV At the Great Game 255 XVI A Chance to Help 279 XVII An Ounce of Prevention 299 XVIII Into Paradise--and Out 321 XIX A Last Chance 337 XX Loose Threads 355

  BETTY WALES

  CHAPTER I

  FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  "Oh, dear, what if she shouldn't meet me!" sighed Betty Wales for thehundredth time at least, as she gathered up her bags and umbrella, andfollowed the crowd of noisy, chattering girls off the train.

  "So long, Mary. See you to-morrow."

  "Get a carriage, Nellie, that's a dear. You're so little you can alwaysbreak through the crowd."

  "Hello, Susanna! Did you get on the campus too?"

  "Thanks awfully, but I can't to-night. My freshman cousin's up, youknow, and homesick and----"

  "Oh, girls, isn't it fun to be back?"

  It all sounded so jolly and familiar. Weren't any of them freshmen? Didthey guess that she was a freshman "and homesick"? Betty straightenedproudly and resolved that they should not. If only the registrar had gotfather's telegram. As she stood hesitating on the station platform,amazed at the wilderness of trunks and certain that no one couldpossibly find her until that shouting, rushing mob in front of her haddispersed, a pretty girl in immaculate white duck hurried up to her.

  "Pardon me," she said, reaching out a hand for Betty's golf clubs, "butaren't you a stranger here? Could I help you, perhaps, about gettingyour luggage up?"

  Betty looked at her doubtfully. "I don't know," she said. "Yes, I'mgoing to enter college, and my elder sister couldn't get here until alater train. But father telegraphed the registrar to meet me. Do youknow her? Could you point her out?"

  The pretty girl's lips curved into the faint suggestion of a smile."Yes," she said, "I know her--only too well for my peace of mindoccasionally. But I'm afraid she hasn't come to meet you. You see she'svery busy these first days--there are a great many of you freshman, allwanting different things. So she sends us down instead."

  "Oh, I see." Betty's face brightened. "Then if you would tell me how toget to Mrs. Chapin's on Meriden Place."

  "Mrs. Chapin's!" exclaimed the pretty girl. "That's easy. Most of youwant such outlandish streets. But that's close to the campus, where I'mgoing myself. My time is just up, I'm happy to say. Give me your checksand your house number, and then we'll take a car, unless you wouldn'tmind walking. It's not far."

  On the way to Mrs. Chapin's Betty learned that her new friend's name wasDorothy King, that she was a junior and roomed in the Hilton House, thatshe went in for science, but was fond of music and was a member of theGlee Club; that she was back a day early for the express purpose ofmeeting freshmen at the trains. In return Betty explained how she hadbeen obliged at the last moment to come east alone; how sister Nan, whowas nine years older than she and five years out of college, was comingdown from a house party at Kittery Point, but couldn't get in till eightthat night; and father had insisted that Betty be sure to arrive bydaylight.

  "Wales--Wales----" repeated the pretty junior. "Why, your sister musthave been the clever Miss Wales in '9-, the one who wrote so well andall. She is? How fine! I'm sorry, but I leave you here. Mrs. Chapin's isthat big yellow house, the second on the left side--yes. I know you'lllike it there. And Miss Wales, you mustn't mind if the sophomores gethold of that joke about your asking the registrar to meet you. I won'ttell, but it will be sure to leak out somehow. You see it's reallyawfully funny. The registrar is almost as important as the president,and a lot more dignified and unapproachable, until you get to knowher. She'll think it too good to keep, and the sophomores will besure to get hold of it and put it in the book of grinds for theirreception--souvenirs they give you, you know. Now good-bye. May I calllater? Thank you so much. Good-bye."

  Betty was blushing hotly as she climbed Mrs. Chapin's steps. But herchagrin at having proved herself so "verdant" a freshman was temperedwith elation at the junior's cordiality. "Nan said I wasn't to run intofriendships," she reflected. "But she must be nice. She knows the Clays.Oh, I hope she won't forget to come!"

  Betty Wales had come to college without any particular enthusiasm forit, though she was naturally an enthusiastic person. She loved Nandearly, but didn't approve of her scheme of life, and wasn't at allprepared to like college just because Nan had. Being so much youngerthan her sister, she had never visited her at Harding, but she had met agood many of her friends; and comparing their stories of life at Hardingwith the experiences of one or two of her own mates who were at theboarding-school, she had decided that of two evils she should prefercollege, because there seemed to be more freedom and variety about it.Being of a philosophical turn of mind, she was now determined to enjoyherself, if possible. She pinned her faith to a remark that her favoriteamong all Nan's friends had made to her that summer. "Oh, you'll likecollege, Betty," she had said. "Not just as Nan or I did, of course.Every girl has her own reasons for liking college--but every nice girllikes it."

  Betty decided that she had already found two of her reasons: the prettyMiss King and Mrs. Chapin's piazza, which was exceedingly attractive fora boarding-house. A girl was lounging in a hammock behind the vines, andanother in a big piazza chair was reading aloud to her. "They must beold girls," thought Betty, "to seem so much at home." Then sheremembered that Mrs. Chapin had said hers would probably be an "allfreshman house," and decided that they were friends from the same town.

  Mrs. Chapin presently appeared, to show Betty to her room and explainthat her roommate would not arrive till the next morning. Betty dressedand then sat down to study for her French examination, which came nextday; but before she had finished deciding which couch she preferred orwhere they could possibly put two desks and a tea-table, the bell rangfor dinner.

  This bid fair to be a silent and dismal meal. All the girls had comeexcept Betty's roommate, and most of them, being freshmen, were in thedepths of examinations and homesickness. But there was one shiningexception, a very lively sophomore, who had waited till the last momenthoping to get an assignment on the campus, and then had come to Mrs.Chapin's in the place of a freshman who had failed in her examinations.

  "She had six, poor thing!" explained the sophomore to Betty, who satbeside her. "And just think! She'd had a riding horse and a mahoganydesk w
ith a secret drawer sent on from home. Wish I could inherit themalong with her room. Now, my name is Mary Brooks. Tell me yours, andI'll ask the girl on the other side and introduce you; and that willstart the ball rolling."

  These energetic measures succeeded much better than Mrs. Chapin'ssomewhat perfunctory remarks about the dry weather, and the whole tablewas soon talking busily. The two piazza girls proved to be sisters, Maryand Adelaide Rich, from Haddam, Connecticut. Betty decided that theywere rather stupid and too inclined to stick together to be much fun. Atall, homely girl at the end of the table created a laugh by introducingherself as Miss Katherine Kittredge of Kankakee.

  "The state is Illinois," she added, "but that spoils the alliteration."

  "The what?" whispered Betty to the sophomore.

  But Miss Brooks only laughed and said, "Wait till you've finishedfreshman English."

  Betty's other neighbor was a pale, quiet little girl, with short hairand a drawl. Betty couldn't decide whether she meant to be "snippy" orwas only shy and offish. After she had said that her name was RobertaLewis and her home Philadelphia, Betty inquired politely whether sheexpected to like college.

  "I expect to detest it," replied Miss Lewis slowly and distinctly, andspoke not another word during dinner. But though she ate busily and kepther eyes on her plate, Betty was sure that she heard all that was said,and would have liked to join in, only she didn't know how.

  The one really beautiful girl at the table was Miss Eleanor Watson. Hercomplexion was the daintiest pink and white, her black hair waved softlyunder the big hat which she had not stopped to take off, and her hazeleyes were plaintive one moment and sparkling the next, as her moodchanged. She talked a good deal and very well, and it was hard torealize that she was only sixteen and a freshman. She had fitted forcollege at a big preparatory school in the east, and so, although shehappened to be the only Denver girl in college, she had a great manyfriends in the upper classes and appeared to know quite as much aboutcollege customs as Miss Brooks. All this impressed Betty, who admiredbeauty and pretty clothes immensely. She resolved to have Eleanor Watsonfor a friend if she could, and was pleased when Miss Watson inquired howmany examinations she had, and suggested that they would probably be inthe same divisions, since their names both began with W.

  The remaining girl at Mrs. Chapin's table was not particularly striking.She had a great mass of golden brown hair, which she wore coiled looselyin her neck. Her keen grey eyes looked the world straight in the face,and her turned-up nose and the dimple in her chin gave her a merry,cheerful air. She did not talk much, and not at all about herself, butshe gave the impression of being a thoroughly nice, bright, capablegirl. Her name was Rachel Morrison.

  After dinner Betty was starting up-stairs when Mary Brooks called herback. "Won't you walk over to the campus with me, little girl?" sheasked. "I have one or two errands. Oh no, you don't need a hat. Younever do here."

  So they wandered off bareheaded in the moonlight, which made theelm-shaded streets look prettier than ever. On the dusky campus girlsstrolled about in devoted pairs and sociable quartettes. On the piazzaof one of the dwelling-houses somebody was singing a fascinating littleScotch ballad with a tinkling mandolin accompaniment.

  "Must be Dorothy King," said the sophomore. "I thought she wouldn't cometill eight. Most people don't."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Betty, "I know her!" And she related her adventure atthe station.

  "That's so," said Miss Brooks. "I'd forgotten. She's awfully popular,you know, and very prominent,--belongs to no end of societies. Butwhatever the Young Women's Christian Association wants of her she does.You know they appoint girls to meet freshmen and help them findboarding-places and so on. She's evidently on that committee. Let's stopand say hello to her."

  Betty, hanging behind, was amazed to see the commotion caused by MissBrooks's arrival. The song stopped abruptly, the mandolin slammed to thefloor, and performers and audience fell as one woman upon the newcomer.

  "Why, Mary Brooks! When did you come?"

  "Did you get a room, honey?"

  "Oh, Mary, where did you put on that lovely tan?"

  "Mary, is Sarah coming back, do you know?"

  "Hush up, girls, and let her tell us!"

  It was like the station, only more so, and oh, it was nice--if you werein it. Mary answered some of their questions and then looked around forBetty. "I've lost a freshman," she said, "Here, Miss Wales, come up andsit on the railing. She knows you, Dottie, and she wants to hear yousing. These others are some of the Hilton House, Miss Wales. Pleaseconsider yourselves introduced. Now, Dottie."

  So the little Scotch ballad began again. Presently some one else cameup, there were more effusive greetings, and then another song or two,after which Miss King and "some of the Hilton House" declared that theysimply must go and unpack. Betty, suddenly remembering her trunk and hersister, decided to let Miss Brooks do her other "errands" alone, andfound her way back to Mrs. Chapin's. Sure enough, Nan was sitting on thepiazza.

  "Hello, little sister," she called gaily as Betty hurried up the walk."Don't say you're sorry to be late. It's the worst possible thing forlittle freshmen to mope round waiting for people, and I'm glad you hadthe sense not to. Your trunk's come, but if you're not too tired let'sgo up and see Ethel Hale before we unpack it."

  Ethel Hale had spent a whole summer with Nan, and Betty beat her attennis and called her Ethel, and she called Betty little sister, just asNan did. But here she was a member of the faculty. "I shall never darecome near her after you leave," said Betty. Just as she said it the doorof the room opened--Nan had explained that it was a freshman trick toring front door-bells--and Ethel rushed out and dragged them in.

  "Miss Blaine and Miss Mills are here," she said.

  Betty gathered from the subsequent conversation that Miss Blaine andMiss Mills were also members of the faculty; and they were. But they hadjust come in from a horseback ride, and they sat in rather disheveledattitudes, eating taffy out of a paper bag, and their conversation wasvery amusing and perfectly intelligible, even to a freshman who hadstill an examination to pass.

  "I didn't suppose the faculty ever acted like that. Why, they're justlike other people," declared Betty, as she tumbled into bed a littlelater.

  "They're exactly like other people," returned Nan sagely, from thecloset where she was hanging up skirts. "Just remember that and you'llhave a lot nicer time with them."

  So ended Betty's first day at college. Nan finished unpacking, and thensat for a long time by the window. Betty loved Nan, but Nan in returnworshiped Betty. They might call her the clever Miss Wales if theyliked; she would gladly have given all her vaunted brains for thefascinating little ways that made Betty friends so quickly and for thepower to take life in Betty's free-and-easy fashion. "Oh, I hope she'lllike it!" she thought. "I hope she'll be popular with the girls. I don'twant her to have to work so hard for all she gets. I wouldn't exchangemy course for hers, but I want hers to be the other kind."

  Betty was sound asleep.