CHAPTER XII
A TRIUMPH FOR DEMOCRACY
By Wednesday Betty was well enough to go to classes, though she feltvery conspicuous with her scratched face and her wrist in a sling. Andso when early Wednesday afternoon Eleanor pounced on her and Katherineand demanded why they were not starting to class-meeting, she repliedthat she at least was not going.
"Nor I," said Katherine decidedly. "It's sure to be stupid."
"I'm sorry," said Eleanor. "We may need you badly; every one is so busythis week. Perhaps you'll change your minds before two-thirty, and ifyou do, please bring all the other girls that you can along. You knowthe notice was marked important."
"Evidently all arranged beforehand," sniffed Katherine, as Eleanordeparted, explaining that she had promised to be on hand early, ready todrum up a quorum if necessary.
Betty looked out at the clear winter sunshine. "I wanted a little walk,"she said. "Let's go. If it's long and stupid we can leave; and we oughtto be loyal to our class."
"All right," agreed Katherine. "I'll go if you will. I should ratherlike to see what they have on hand this time."
"They" meant the Hill-School contingent, who from the initial meetinghad continued to run the affairs of the class of 19--. Some of the girlswere indignant, and a few openly rebellious, but the majority wereeither indifferent or satisfied that the Hill clique was as good as anyother that might get control in its stead. So the active opposition hadbeen able to accomplish nothing, and Hill's machine, as a cynicalsophomore had dubbed it, had elected its candidates for three classofficers and the freshman representative on the Students' Commission,while the various class committees were largely made up of JeanEastman's intimate friends.
"I hope that some of the crowd have nicer manners than our dear Eleanorand are better students," Mary Brooks had said to Betty. "Otherwise I'mafraid your ship of state will run into a snag of faculty prejudicessome fine day."
Betty belonged to the indifferent faction of the class. She was greatlyinterested in all its activities, and prepared to be proud of itsachievements, but she possessed none of the instincts of a wire-puller.So long as the class offices were creditably filled she cared not whoheld them, and comparing her ignorance of parliamentary procedure withthe glib self-confidence of Jean, Eleanor and their friends, she evenfelt grateful to them for rescuing the class from the pitfalls thatbeset inexperience.
Katherine, on the other hand, was a bitter opponent of what she called"ring rule," and Adelaide Rich, who was the only recruit that they couldsucceed in adding to their party, had never forgotten the depths ofiniquity which her pessimistic acquaintance had revealed in theseemingly innocent and well conducted first meeting, and was prepared todistrust everything, down to the reading of the minutes.
The three were vigorously applauded when they appeared in the door ofNo. 19, the biggest recitation room in the main building and so the oneinvariably appropriated to freshman assemblies. Katherine whispered toMary that she had not known Betty was quite so popular as all that; buta girl on the row behind the one in which they found seats explainedmatters by whispering that three had been the exact number needed tomake up a quorum.
The secretary's report was hastily read and accepted, and then MissEastman stated that the business of the meeting was to elect a classrepresentative for the Washington's Birthday debate.
"Some of you know," she continued, "that the Students' Commission hasdecided to make a humorous debate the main feature of the morning rally.We and the juniors are to take one side, and the senior and sophomorerepresentatives the other. Now I suppose the first thing to decide ishow our representative shall be chosen."
A buzz of talk spread over the room. "Why didn't they let us knowbeforehand--give us time to think who we'd have?" inquired the talkativegirl on the row behind.
The president rapped for order as Kate Denise, her roommate, rose tomake a motion.
"Madame president, I move that the freshman representative aforesaid bechosen by the chair. Of course," she went on less formally, turning tothe girls, "that is by far the quickest way, and Jean knows the girls asa whole so well--much better than any of us, I'm sure. I think that alot depends on choosing just the right person for our debater, and weought not to trust to a haphazard election."
"Haphazard is good," muttered the loquacious freshman, in tones plainlyaudible at the front of the room.
"Of course that means a great responsibility for me," murmured thepresident modestly.
"Put it to vote," commanded a voice from the front row, which was alwaysoccupied by the ruling faction. "And remember, all of you, that if weballot for representative we don't get out of here till four o'clock."
The motion was summarily put to vote, and the ayes had it at once, asthe ayes are likely to do unless a matter has been thoroughly discussed.
"I name Eleanor Watson, then," said Miss Eastman with suspiciouspromptness. "Will somebody move to adjourn?"
"Well, of all ridiculous appointments!" exclaimed the loquacious girlunder cover of the applause and the noise of moving chairs.
"Right you are!" responded Katherine, laughing at Adelaide Rich'sdisgusted expression.
But Betty was smiling happily with her eyes on the merry group aroundEleanor. "Aren't you glad, girls?" she said. "Won't she do well, andwon't the house be proud of her?"
"I for one never noticed that she was a single bit humorous," began Maryindignantly.
Katherine pinched her arm vigorously. "Don't! What's the use?" shewhispered.
"Nor I, but I suppose Miss Eastman knows that she can be funny,"answered Betty confidently, as she hurried off to congratulate Eleanor.
She was invited to the supper to be given at Cuyler's that night inEleanor's honor, and went home blissfully unconscious that half theclass was talking itself hoarse over Jean Eastman's bad taste inappointing a notorious "cutter" and "flunker" to represent them on soimportant an occasion, just because she happened to be the best dressedand prettiest girl in the Hill crowd.
The next afternoon most of the girls were at gym or the library, andBetty, who was still necessarily excused from her daily exercise, wasworking away on her Latin, when some one knocked imperatively on herdoor. It was Jean Eastman.
"Good-afternoon, Miss Wales," she said hurriedly. "Will you lend me apencil and paper? Eleanor has such a habit of keeping her desk locked,and I want to leave her a note."
She scribbled rapidly for a moment, frowned as she read through what shehad written, and looked doubtfully from it to Betty. Then she rose togo. "Will you call her attention to this, please?" she said. "It's veryimportant. And, Miss Wales,--if she should consult you, do advise her toresign quietly and leave it to me to smooth things over."
"Resign?" repeated Betty vaguely.
"Yes," said Jean. "You see--well, I might as well tell you now, thatI've said so much. The faculty object to her taking the debate. Perhapsyou know that she's very much in their black books but I didn't. And Inever dreamed that they would think it any of their business who was ourdebater, but I assure you they do. At least half a dozen of them havespoken to me about her poor work and her cutting. They say that she isjust as much ineligible for this as she would be for the musical clubsor the basket-ball team. Now what I want is for Eleanor to write a sweetlittle note of resignation to-night, so that I can appoint some one elsebright and early in the morning."
Betty's eyes grew big with anxiety. "But won't the girls guess thereason?" she cried. "Think how proud Eleanor is, Miss Eastman. It wouldhurt her terribly if any one found out that she had been conditioned.You shouldn't have told me--indeed you shouldn't!"
Jean laughed carelessly. "Well, you know now, and there's no use cryingover spilt milk. I used that argument about the publicity of the affairto the faculty, but it was no go. So the only thing for you to do is tohelp Eleanor write a nice, convincing note of resignation that I canread at the next meeting, when I announce my second appointment."
"But Eleanor won't ask my help," said Betty decidedly
, "and, besides,what can she say, after accepting all the congratulations, and havingthe supper?"
Jean laughed again. "I'm afraid you're not a bit ingenious, Miss Wales,"she said rising to go, "but fortunately Eleanor is. Good-bye."
When Betty handed Eleanor the note she read it through unconcernedly,unconcernedly tore it into bits as she talked, and spent the entireevening, apparently, in perfect contentment and utter idleness,strumming softly on her guitar.
The next morning Betty met Jean on the campus. "Did she tell you?" askedJean.
Betty shook her head.
"I thought likely she hadn't. Well, what do you suppose? She won'tresign. She says that there's no real reason she can give, and thatshe's now making it a rule to tell the truth; that I'm in a box, notshe, and I may climb out of it as best as I can."
"Did she really say that?" demanded Betty, a note of pleasure in hervoice.
"Yes," snapped Jean, "and since you're so extremely cheerful over it,perhaps you can tell me what to do next."
Betty stared at her blankly. "I forgot," she said. "The girls mustn'tknow. We must cover it up somehow."
"Exactly," agreed Jean crossly, "but what I want to know is--how."
"Why not ask the class to choose its speaker? All the other classesdid."
Jean looked doubtful. "I know they did. That would make it very awkwardfor me, but I suppose I might say there had been dissatisfaction--that'strue enough,--and we could have it all arranged----Well, when I call ameeting, be sure to come and help us out."
The meeting was posted for Saturday, and all the Chapin house girls,except Helen, who never had time for such things, and Eleanor, attendedit. Eleanor was expecting a caller, she said. Besides, as she hadn'tbeen to classes in the morning there was no sense in emphasizing thefact by parading through the campus in the afternoon.
At the last minute she called Betty back. "Paul may not get overto-day," she said. "Won't you come home right off to tell me about it?I--well, you'll see later why I want to know--if you haven't guessedalready."
The class of 19-- had an inkling that something unusual was in the windand had turned out in full force. There was no need of waiting for aquorum this time. After the usual preliminaries Jean Eastman rose andbegan a halting, nervous little speech.
"I have heard," she began, "that is--a great many people in and out ofthe class have spoken to me about the matter of the Washington'sBirthday debate. I mean, about the way in which our debater wasappointed. I understand there is a great deal of dissatisfaction--thatsome of the class say they did not understand which way they werevoting, and so on. So I thought you might like to reconsider your vote.I certainly, considering position in the matter, want you to have thechance to do so. Now, can we have this point thoroughly discussed?"Then, as no one rose, "Miss Wales, won't you tell us what you think?"
Betty stared helplessly at Jean for a moment and then, assisted byvigorous pushes from Katherine and Rachel, who sat on either side ofher, rose hesitatingly to her feet. "Miss Eastman,--I mean, madamepresident," she began. She stopped for an instant to look at heraudience. Apparently the class of 19-- was merely astonished and puzzledby Jean's suggestion; there was no indication that any one--exceptpossibly a few of the Hill girls--had any idea of her motive. "Madamepresident," repeated Betty, forcing back the lump that had risen in herthroat when she realized that the keeping of Eleanor's secret laylargely with her, "Miss Watson is my friend, and I was very much pleasedto have her for our representative. But I do feel, and I believe theother girls do, as they come to think it over, that it would have beenbetter to elect our representative. Then we should every one of us havehad a direct interest in the result of the debate. Besides, all theother classes elected theirs, and so I think, if Miss Watson iswilling----"
"Miss Watson is perfectly willing," broke in Jean. "A positiveengagement unfortunately prevents her being here to say so, but sheauthorized me to state that she preferred the elective choice herself,and to tell you to do just as you think best in the matter. She----Goon, Miss Wales."
"Oh, that was all," said Betty hastily slipping back into her seat.
A group of girls in the farthest corner of the room clapped vigorously.
"Nothing cut-and-dried about that," whispered Katherine to AdelaideRich.
"Are there any more remarks?" inquired the president. No one seemedanxious to speak, and she went on rather aimlessly. "Miss Wales hasreally covered the ground, I think. The other classes all elected theirdebaters, and I fancy they want us to do the same. As for thefaculty--well, I may as well say that they almost insist upon a change."
"Good crawl," whispered Katherine, who was quick to put two and twotogether, to Adelaide Rich, who never got the point of any but the mostobvious remarks, and who now looked much perplexed.
Meanwhile Betty had been holding whispered consultations with some ofthe girls around her, and now she rose again. Her "madame president" wasso obviously prior to Kate Denise's that when Kate was recognized therewas an ominous murmur of discontent and Jean apologized and promptlyreversed her decision.
"Perhaps I oughtn't to speak twice," said Betty blushing at thecommotion she had caused, "but if we are to change our vote, some of usthink it would be fun to hold a preliminary debate now, and choose ourspeaker on her merits. We did that once at school----"
"Good stunt," called some one.
"I move that Miss Wales as chairman select a committee of arrangements,and that we have a five minute recess while the committee meets."
"I move that there be two committees, one for nominating speakers andthe other for choosing a subject."
"I move that we reconsider our other vote first."
The motions were coming in helter-skelter from all quarters, instead ofdecorously from the front row as usual. The president was trying vainlyto restore order and to remember whose motion should have precedence,and to make way somehow for the prearranged nomination, which so far hadbeen entirely crowded out, when three girls in one corner of the roombegan thumping on their seat-arms and chanting in rhythmic, insistentchorus, "We--want--Emily--Davis. We--want--Emily--Davis.We--want--Emily--Davis."
Hardly any one in the room had ever heard of Emily Davis, but the threegirls constituted an original and very popular little coterie knownindividually as Babe, Babbie, and Bob, or collectively as "the threeB's." They roomed on the top floor of the Westcott House and were famousin the house for being at the same time prime favorites of the matronand the ringleaders in every plot against her peace of mind, and outsidefor their unique and diverting methods of recreation. It was they whohad successfully gulled Mary Brooks with a rumor as absurd as her own;and accounts of the "spread" they had handed out to the night-watchmanin a tin pail, and dangled just out of his reach, in the hope ofextracting a promise from that incorruptible worthy not to report theirlights, until the string incontinently broke and the ice cream andlobster salad descended as a flood, were reported to have made even theaugust president of the college laugh. Ergo, if they "wanted" EmilyDavis, she must be worth "wanting." So their friends took up the cry,and it quickly spread and gathered volume, until nearly everybody in theroom was shouting the same thing. Finally the president stepped forwardand made one determined demand for order.
"Is Miss Emily Davis present?" she called, when the tumult had slightlysubsided.
"Yes," shouted the Three and the few others who knew Miss Davis bysight.
"Then will she please--why, exactly what is it that you want of her?"questioned the president, a trifle haughtily.
"Speech!" chorused the Three.
"Will Miss Davis please speak to us?" asked the president.
At that a very tall girl who was ineffectually attempting to hide behindlittle Alice Waite was pulled and pushed to her feet, and amid a suddensilence began the funniest speech that most of the class of 19-- hadever listened to; but it was not so much what she said as her inimitabledrawling delivery and her lunging, awkward gestures that brought downthe house. When she took her seat again,
resolutely ignoring persistentcries of "More!" the class applauded her to the echo and elected herfreshman debater by acclamation.
It was wonderful what a change those twenty riotous minutes had made inthe spirit of the class of 19--. For the first time in its history itwas an enthusiastic, single-hearted unit, and to the credit of the Hillgirls be it said that no one was more enthusiastic or joined in theapplause with greater vigor than they. They had not meant to beautocratic--except three of them; they had simply acted according totheir lights, or rather, their leaders' lights. Now they understood howaffairs could be conducted at Harding, and during the rest of the coursethey never entirely forgot or ignored the new method.
To Betty's utter astonishment and consternation the lion's share ofcredit for the sudden triumph of democracy was laid at her door. Thegroup around her after the meeting was almost as large and quite asnoisy as the one that was struggling to shake hands with Miss Davis.
"Don't! You mustn't. Why, it was the B's who got her, not I," protestedBetty vigorously.
"No, you began it," said Babe.
"You bet you did," declared Bob.
"Yes, indeed. We were too scared to speak of her until you proposedsomething like it," added Babbie in her sweet, lilting treble.
"You can't get out of it. You are the real founder of this democracy,"ended Christy Mason decidedly. Betty was proud of Christy's approval. Itwas fun, too, to have the Hill girls crowding around and saying pleasantthings to her.
"I almost think I'm somebody at last. Won't Nan be pleased!" shereflected as she hurried home to keep her promise to Eleanor. Then shelaughed merrily all to herself. "Those silly girls! I really didn't do athing," she thought. And then she sighed. "I never get a chance to be abit vain. I wish I could--one little wee bit. I wonder if Mr. Westcame."
It did not occur to Betty as at all significant that Jean Eastman andKate Denise had not spoken to her after the meeting, until, when sheknocked on Eleanor's door, Eleanor came formally to open it. "Jean andKate are here," she said coldly, "so unless you care to stop----"
Jean and Kate nodded silently from the couch where they were eatingcandy.
"Oh, no," said Betty in quick astonishment. "I'll come some other time."
"You needn't bother," answered Eleanor rudely. "They've told me allabout it," and she shut the door, leaving Betty standing alone in thehall.
Betty winked hard to keep back the tears as she hurried to her own room.What could it all mean? She had done her best for Eleanor, and nobodyhad guessed--they had been too busy laughing at that ridiculous EmilyDavis--and now Eleanor treated her like this. And Jean Eastman, too,when she had done exactly what Jean wanted of her. Jean's curtness waseven less explainable than Eleanor's, though it mattered less. It wasall--queer. Betty smiled faintly as she applied Alice Waite's favoriteadjective. Well, there was nothing more to be done until she could seeEleanor after dinner. So she wiped her eyes, smoothed her hair, and wentresolutely off to find Roberta, whose heavy shoes--another of Roberta'scountless fads--had just clumped past her door.
"I'm writing my definitions for to-morrow's English," announced Roberta."For the one we could choose ourselves I'm going to invent a word andthen make up a meaning for it. Isn't that a nice idea?"
"Very," said Betty listlessly.
Roberta looked at her keenly. "I believe you're homesick," she said."How funny after such a jubilant afternoon."
Betty smiled wearily. "Perhaps I am. Anyway, I wish I were at home."
Meanwhile in Eleanor's room an acrimonious discussion was in progress.
"The more I think of it," Kate Denise was saying emphatically, "thesurer I am that she didn't do a thing against us this afternoon. Sheisn't to blame for having started a landslide by accident, Jean. Did yousee her face when Eleanor turned her down just now? She lookedabsolutely nonplussed."
"Most people do when the lady Eleanor turns and rends them," returnedJean, with a reminiscent smile.
"Just the same," continued Kate Denise, "I say you have a lot to thankher for this afternoon, Jean Eastman. She got you out of a tight hole insplendid shape. None of us could have done it without stamping the wholething a put-up job, and most of the outsiders who could have helped youout, wouldn't have cared to oblige you. It was irritating to see herrallying the multitudes, I'll admit; but I insist that it wasn't herfault. We ought to have managed better."
"Say I ought to have managed better and be done with it," muttered Jeancrossly.
"You certainly ought," retorted Eleanor. "You've made me thelaughing-stock of the whole college."
"No, Eleanor," broke in Kate Denise pacifically. "Truly, your dignity isintact, thanks to Miss Wales and those absurd B's who followed herlead."
"Never mind them. I'm talking about Betty Wales. She was a friend ofmine--she was at the supper the other night. Why couldn't she leave itto some one else to object to your appointing me?"
"Oh, if that's all you care about," said Jean irritably, "don't blameMiss Wales. The thing had to be done you know. I didn't see that itmattered who did it, and so I--well, I practically asked her. What I'mtalking about is her way of going at it--her having pushed herselfforward so, and really thrown us out of power by using what I--" Jeancaught herself suddenly, remembering that Eleanor did not know aboutBetty's having been let into the secret.
"By using what you told her," finished Kate innocently. "Well, why didyou tell her all about it, if you didn't expect--"
Eleanor stood up suddenly, her face white with anger. "How dared you,"she challenged. "As if it wasn't insulting enough to get me into ascrape like this, and give any one with two eyes a chance to see throughyour flimsy little excuses, but you have to go round telling people----"
"Eleanor, stop," begged Jean. "She was the only one I told. I let it outquite by accident the day I came up here to see you. Not another soulknows it but Kate, and you told her yourself. You'd have told BettyWales, too,--you know you would--if we hadn't seen you first thisafternoon."
"Suppose I should," Eleanor retorted hotly. "What I do is my own affair.Please go home."
Jean stalked out in silence, but Kate, hesitating between Scylla andCharybdis, lingered to say consolingly, "Cheer up, Eleanor. When youcome to think it over, it won't seem so----"
"Please go home," repeated Eleanor, and Kate hurried after her roommate.