CHAPTER III

  DANCING LESSONS AND A CLASS-MEETING

  The next morning Helen had gone for a walk with Katherine, and Betty wasdressing for church, when Eleanor Watson knocked at the door. She lookedprettier than ever in her long silk kimono, with its ruffles of softlace and the great knot of pink ribbon at her throat.

  "So you're going to church too," she said, dropping down among Betty'spillows. "I was hoping you'd stay and talk to me. Did you enjoy yourfrolic?"

  "Yes, didn't you?" inquired Betty.

  "I didn't go," returned Eleanor shortly.

  "Oh, why not?" asked Betty so seriously that Eleanor laughed.

  "Because the girl who asked me first was ill; and I wouldn't tag alongwith the little Brooks and the Riches and your fascinating roommate. Nowdon't say 'why not?' again, or I may hurt your feelings. Do you reallylike Miss Brooks?"

  Betty hesitated. As a matter of fact she liked Mary Brooks very much,but she also admired Eleanor Watson and coveted her approval. "I likeher well enough," she said slowly, and disappeared into the closet toget something she did not want and change the subject.

  Eleanor laughed. "You're so polite," she said. "I wish I were. That is,I wish I could make people think I was, without my taking the trouble.Don't go to church."

  "Helen and Katherine are coming back for me. You'd better go with us,"urged Betty.

  "Now that Kankakee person----" began Eleanor. The door opened suddenlyand Katherine and Helen came in. Katherine, who had heard Eleanor's lastremark, flushed but said nothing. Eleanor rose deliberately, smoothedthe pillows she had been lying on, and walked slowly off, remarking overher shoulder, "In common politeness, knock before you come in."

  "Or you may hear what I think of you," added Katherine wickedly, asEleanor shut the door.

  Helen looked perplexed. "Should I, Betty?" she asked, "when it's my ownroom."

  "It's nicer," said Betty. "Nan and I do. How do you like our room,Katherine?"

  "It's a beaut," said Katherine, taking the hint promptly. "I don't seehow you ever fixed your desks and couches, and left so much space in themiddle. Our room is like the aisle in a Chicago theatre. That Japanesescreen is a peach and the water-color over your desk is another. Did youbuy back the chafing-dish?"

  Betty laughed. She had amused the house by getting up before breakfaston the day after Nan left, in her haste to buy a chafing-dish. In theafternoon Rachel had suggested that a teakettle was really moreessential to a college establishment, and they had gone down together tochange it. But then had come Miss King's invitation to eat "plowedfield" after the frolic; and the chafing-dish, appearing once more thebe-all and end-all of existence, had finally replaced the teakettle.

  "But we're going to have both," ventured Helen shyly.

  "Oh yes," broke in Betty. "Isn't it fine of Helen to get it and make ourtea-table so complete?" As a matter of fact Betty much preferred thatthe tea-table should be all her own; but Helen was so delighted with theidea of having a part in it, and so sure that she wanted a teakettlemore than pillows for her couch, that Betty resolved not to mind thebare-looking bed, which marred the cozy effect of the room, and aboveall never to let Helen guess how she felt about the tea-table. "But nextyear you better believe I'm hoping for a single room," she confided tothe little green lizard who sat on her inkstand and ogled her while sheworked.

  When church was over Katherine proposed a stroll around the campusbefore dinner. "I haven't found my bearings at all yet," she said. "Nowwhich building is which?"

  Betty pointed out the Hilton House proudly. "That's all I know," shesaid, "except these up here in front of course--the Main Building andChapel, and Science and Music Halls."

  "We know the gymnasium," suggested Helen, "and the Belden House, wherewe bought our screen, is one of the four in that row."

  They found the Belden House, and picked out the Westcott by itsname-plate, which, being new and shiny, was easy to read from adistance. Then Helen made a discovery. "Girls, there's water downthere," she cried. Sure enough, behind the back fence and across a roadwas a pretty pond, with wooded banks and an island, which hid itsfurther side from view.

  "That must be the place they call Paradise," said Betty. "I've heard Nanspeak of it. I thought it was this," and she pointed to a slimy poolabout four yards across, below them on the back campus. "That's the onlypond I'd noticed."

  "Oh, no," declared Katherine. "I've heard my scientific roommate speakof that. It's called the Frog Pond and 'of it more anon,' as my alreadybeloved Latin teacher occasionally remarks. To speak plainly, she haspromised to let me help her catch her first frog."

  They walked home through the apple orchard that occupied one corner ofthe back campus.

  "It's not a very big campus, and not a bit dignified or imposing, but Ilike it," said Betty, as they came out on to the main drive again, andstarted toward the gateway.

  "Nice and cozy to live with every day," added Katherine. Helen was toobusy comparing the red-brick, homely reality with the shaded marblecloisters of her dreams, to say what she thought.

  Betty's dancing class was a great success. With characteristic energyshe organized it Monday morning. It appeared that while all the Chapinhouse girls could dance except Helen and Adelaide Rich, none of themcould "lead" but Eleanor.

  "And Miss King's friends said we freshmen ought to learn before thesophomore reception, particularly the tall ones; and most of us aretall," explained Betty.

  "That's all right," interposed Eleanor, "but take my advice and don'tlearn. If you can't lead, the other girl always will; and the men say itruins a girl's dancing."

  "Who cares?" demanded Katherine boldly. "Imagine Betty or Miss Brookstrying to see over me and pull me around! I want to learn, for one--menor no men."

  "So do I," said Rachel and Mary Rich together. "And I," drawled Robertalanguidly.

  "Oh well, if you're all set upon it, I'll play for you," said Eleanorgraciously. She was secretly ashamed of the speech that Katherine hadoverheard the day before and bitterly regretted having antagonized thegirls in the house, when she had meant only to keep them--all butBetty--at a respectful distance. She liked most of them personally, butshe wished her friends to be of another type--girls from large schoolslike her own, who would have influence and a following from the first;girls with the qualities of leadership, who could control votes inclass-meetings and push their little set to first place in all theorganized activities of the college. Eleanor had said that she came tocollege for "fun," but "fun" to her meant power and prominence. She wasa born politician, with a keen love of manoeuvring and considerabletact and insight when she chose to exercise it. But inexperience and theease with which she had "run" boarding-school affairs had made herover-confident. She saw now that she had indulged her fondness forsarcasm too far, and was ready to do a good deal to win back theadmiration which she was sure the Chapin house girls had felt for her atfirst. She was particularly anxious to do this, as the freshmanclass-meeting was only a week off, and she wanted the votes of the housefor the Hill School candidate for class-president.

  So three evenings that week, in spite of her distaste for minor partsand bad pianos, she meekly drummed out waltzes and two-steps on Mrs.Chapin's rickety instrument for a long half hour after dinner, whileBetty and Roberta--who danced beautifully and showed an unexpectedaptitude in imparting her accomplishment--acted as head-masters, and therest of the girls furnished the novices with the necessary variety ofpartners, practiced "leading," and incidentally got better acquainted.On Friday evening, as they sat in the parlor resting and discussing theprogress of their pupils and the appalling length of the Livy lesson forthe next day, Eleanor broached the subject of the class-meeting.

  "You know it's to-morrow at two," she said. "Aren't you excited?"

  "It will be fun to see our class together," said Rachel. Nobody elseseemed to take much interest in the subject.

  "Well, of course," pursued Eleanor, "I'm particularly anxious about itbecause a dear friend of mine is g
oing to be proposed for classpresident--Jean Eastman--you know her, Betty."

  "Oh yes," cried Betty, enthusiastically. "She's that tall, dark girl whowas with you yesterday at Cuyler's. She seemed lovely."

  Eleanor nodded and got up from the piano stool. "I must go to work," shesaid, smiling cordially round the little group. "Tell them what a goodpresident Jean will make, Betty. And don't one of you forget to come."

  "She can be very nice when she wants to," said Katherine bluntly whenEleanor was well out of hearing.

  "I think she's trying to make up for Sunday," said Betty. "Let's allvote for her friend."

  The first class-meeting of 190- passed off with unwonted smoothness. Theclass before had forgotten that it is considered necessary for acorporate body to have a constitution; and the class before that hadmade itself famous by suggesting the addition of the "Woman's HomeMonthly" to the magazines in the college reading-room. 190- avoidedthese and other absurdities. A constitution mysteriously appeared, drawnup in good and regular form, and was read and promptly adopted. ThenEleanor Watson nominated Jean Eastman for president. After she and theother nominees had stood in a blushing row on the platform to beinspected by their class, the voting began. Miss Eastman was declaredelected on the first ballot, with exactly four votes more than thenumber necessary for a choice.

  "I hope she'll remember that we did that," Katherine Kittredge leanedforward to say to Betty, who sat in the row ahead of her with thefluffy-haired freshman from the Hilton and her "queer" roommate.

  That night there was a supper in Jean's honor at Holmes's, so Eleanordid not appear at Mrs. Chapin's dinner-table to be duly impressed with asense of her obligations. "How did you like the class-meeting?" inquiredRachel, who had been for a long walk with a girl from her home town, andso had not seen the others.

  "I thought it was all right myself," said Adelaide Rich, "but I walkedhome with a girl named Alford who was dreadfully disgusted. She said itwas all cut and dried, and wanted to know who asked Eleanor Watson towrite us a constitution. She said she hoped that hereafter we wouldn'tsit around tamely and be run by any clique."

  "Well, somebody must run us," said Betty consolingly. "Those girls knowone another and the rest of us don't know any one well. I think it willall work around in time. They will have their turns first, that's all."

  "Perhaps," admitted Adelaide doubtfully. Her pessimistic acquaintancehad obtained a strong hold on her.

  "And the next thing is the sophomore reception," said Rachel.

  "And Mountain Day right after that," added Betty.

  "What?" asked Helen and Roberta together.

  "Is it possible that you don't know about Mountain Day, children?" askedMary Brooks soberly. "Well, you've heard about the physical tests forthe army and navy, haven't you? This is like those. If you pass yourentrance examinations you are allowed a few weeks to recuperate, andthen if you can climb the required mountain you can stay on in college."

  "How very interesting!" drawled Roberta, who had some idea now how totake Mary's jibes. "Now, Betty, please tell us about it."

  Betty explained that the day after the sophomore reception was aholiday, and that most of the girls seized the opportunity to take anall-day walk or drive into the country around Harding.

  "Let's all ask our junior and senior friends about the nicest places togo," said Rachel, emphasizing "junior and senior" and looking at Mary."Then we can make our plans, and engage a carriage if we want one. Ishould think there might be quite a rush."

  "You should, should you?" jeered Mary. "My dear, every horse that canstand alone and every respectable vehicle was engaged weeks ago."

  "No one has engaged our lower appendages," returned Katherine. "So ifworse comes to worst, we are quite independent of liveries. Which of usare you going to take to the sophomore reception?"

  "Roberta, of course," said Mary. "Didn't you know that Roberta and Ihave a crush on each other? A crush, my dears, in case you are wantingto know, is a warm and adoring friendship. Sorry, but I'm going out thisevening."

  "Has she really asked you, Roberta?" asked Betty.

  "Yes," said Roberta.

  "How nice! I'm going with a sophomore whose sister is a friend ofNan's."

  "And Hester Gulick is going to take me--she's my friend from home,"volunteered Rachel.

  "I was asked to-day," added Helen. "After the class-meeting an awfullynice girl, a junior, came up here. She said there were so many of usthat some of the juniors were going to help take us. Isn't it nice ofthem?"

  Nobody spoke for a moment; then Katherine went on gaily. "And we otherthree have not yet been called and chosen, but I happen to know thatit's because so many people want us, and nobody will give up. So don'tthe rest of you indulge in any crowing."

  "By the way, Betty," said Rachel Morrison, "will you take some moredancing pupils? I was telling two girls who board down the street aboutour class and they said they wanted to learn before the reception andwould much rather come here than go to that big class that two seniorshave in the gym. But as they don't know you, they would insist onpaying, just as they would at the other class."

  Betty looked doubtfully at Roberta. "Shall we?" she said.

  "I don't mind," answered Roberta, "if only you all promise not to tellmy father. He wouldn't understand. Do you suppose Miss Watson wouldplay?"

  "If not, I will," said Mary Rich.

  "And we could use the money for a house spread," added Betty, "since weall help to earn it."

  "And christen the chafing-dish," put in Katherine.

  "Good. Then I'll tell them--Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays," said Rachel;and the dinner-table dissolved.