CHAPTER II.
THEIR NEIGHBOR.
Molly Brown was the youngest member of a numerous family of olderbrothers and sisters. Her father had been dead many years, and inorder to rear and educate her children, Mrs. Brown had been obliged tomortgage, acre by acre, the fine old place where Molly and her brothersand sisters had been born and brought up. Every time anybody in theBrown family wanted to do anything that was particularly nice, somethinghad to go, either a cow or a colt or a piece of land, according to theneeds of the moment. A two-acre lot represented Molly's collegeeducation--two perfectly good acres of orchard.
"If you don't bring back at least one golden apple in return for allthese nice juicy ones that are going for your education, Molly, you areno child of mine," Mrs. Brown had laughingly exclaimed when she kissedher daughter good-bye.
"I'll bring back the three golden apples of the Hesperides, mother, andmake the family rich and happy," cried Molly, and from that moment thethree golden apples became a secret symbol to her, although she had notdecided in her mind exactly what they represented.
"But," as Molly observed to herself, "anybody who has had two acres ofwinter sweets, pippins and greenings spent on her, must necessarilyengage to win a few."
Those two fruitful acres, however, while they provided a fund for aneducation, did not extend far into the margin and there was little leftfor clothes. That was perhaps one of the reasons why Molly had felt sodisturbed about the delay in receiving her trunk.
"I can stand traveling in this old brown rag for economy's sake," shethought; "but I would like to put on the one decent thing I own for myfirst day at college. I was a chump not to have brought something in mysuit case besides a blouse. However, what's done can't be undone," andshe stoically went to work to remove the stains of travel and put ona fresh blue linen shirtwaist; while Nance Oldham, who had been morefar-sighted, made herself spic and span in a duck skirt and a whitelinen blouse. She had little to say during the process of making hertoilet, and Molly wondered if, after all, she would like a roommate sopeculiarly reserved and whimsical as this new friend. She hoped therewould be lots of nice girls in the house of the right sort, girls whomeant business, for while Molly meant to enjoy herself immensely, shemeant business decidedly, and she didn't want to get into a play set andbe torn away from her studies. As these thoughts flitted through hermind she heard voices coming up the stairs.
"Now, Mrs. Murphy, I do hope you've got something really decent. Youknow, I hadn't expected to come back this year. I thought I would stayin France with grandmamma, but at the last moment I changed my mind, andI've come right here from the ship without engaging a thing at all. I'lltake anything that's a single."
The voice had a spoiled, imperious sound, like that of a person in thehabit of having her own way.
"I have a single, Miss, but it's a small one, and they do say you've gota deal of belongings."
"Let's see it. Let's see it, quick, Granny Murphy," and from the noisewithout our two young persons judged that this despotic stranger hadplaced her hands on Mrs. Murphy's shoulders and was running her alongthe passage.
"Now, you'll be giving me apoplexy, Miss, surely, with your goings-on,"cried the woman breathlessly, as she opened the door next theirs.
"Who's in there? Two freshies?"
"Yes, Miss. They only just arrived an hour ago."
"Greenies from Greenville, Green County," chanted the young woman, whodid not seem to mind being overheard by the entire household. "Verywell, I'll take this little hole-in-the-wall. I won't move any of mythings in, except some books and cushions. And now, off wit' yer. Here'ssomething for your trouble."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss."
The two girls seemed to hear the Irish woman being shoved out in thehall. Then the door was banged after her and was locked.
"Dear me, what an obstreperous person," observed Nance. "I wonder ifshe's going to give us a continuous performance."
"I don't know," answered Molly. "She'll be a noisy neighbor if she does.But she sounds interesting, living in France with her grandmamma and soon."
Nance glanced at her watch.
"Wouldn't you like to go for a stroll before supper? We have an houryet. I'm dying to see the famous Quadrangle and the Cloisters and a fewother celebrated spots I've heard about. Aren't you?"
"And incidentally rub off a little of our greenness," said Molly,recalling the words of the girl next door.
As the two girls closed the door to their room and paused on thelanding, the door adjoining burst open and a human whirlwind blew outof the single room and almost knocked them over.
"I beg your pardon," said Nance stiffly, giving the human whirlwinda long, cool, brown glance.
Molly, a little behind her friend, examined the stranger with muchcuriosity. She could not quite tell why she had imagined her to bea small black-eyed, black-haired person, when here stood a tall, verybeautiful young woman. Her hair was light brown and perfectly straight.She had peculiarly passionate, fiery eyes of very dark gray, of the"smouldering kind," as Nance described them later; her features wereregular and her mouth so expressive of her humors that her friends couldalmost read her thoughts by the curve of her sensitive lips. Even inthat flashing glimpse the girls could see that she was beautifullydressed in a white serge suit and a stunning hat of dull blue, trimmedwith wings.
But instead of continuing her mad rush, which seemed to be her usualmanner of doing things, the young woman became suddenly a zephyr ofmildness and gentleness.
"Excuse my precipitate methods," she said. "I never do things slowly,even when there's no occasion to hurry. It's my way, I suppose. Are youfreshmen? Perhaps you'd like for me to show you around college. I'ma soph. I'm fairly familiar."
Nance pressed her lips together. She was not in the habit of makingfriends off-hand. Molly, in fact, was almost her first experience inthis kind of friendship. But Molly Brown, who had never consciously donea rude thing in her life, exclaimed:
"That would be awfully nice. Thanks, we'll come."
They followed her rather timidly down the steps. Across the campusthe pile of gray buildings, in the September twilight, more than everresembled a fine old castle. As they hastened along, the sophomore gavethem each a quick, comprehensive glance.
"My name is Frances Andrews," she began suddenly, and added with apeculiar intonation, "I was called 'Frank' last year. I'm so glad we areto be neighbors. I hope we shall have lots of good times together."
Molly considered this a particular mark of good nature on the part of anolder girl to two freshmen, and she promptly made known their names toFrances Andrews. All this time Nance had remained impassive and quiet.
Ten girls, arm in arm, were strolling toward them across the soft greenturf of the campus, singing as in one voice to the tune of "Maryland, MyMaryland":
"Oh, Wellington, My Wellington, Oh, how I love my Wellington!"
Suddenly Frances Andrews, who was walking between the two young girls,took them each firmly by the arm and led them straight across thecampus, giving the ten girls a wide berth. There was so much fiercedetermination in her action that Molly and Nance looked at her withamazement.
"Are those seniors?" asked Nance, thinking perhaps it was not collegeetiquette to break through a line of established and dignifiedcharacters like seniors.
"No; they are sophomores singing their class song," answered Frances.
"Aren't you a sophomore?" demanded Nance quickly.
"Yes."
"Curious she doesn't want to meet her friends," thought Molly.
But there were more interesting sights to occupy her attention justthen.
They had reached the great gray stone archway which formed the entranceto the Quadrangle, a grassy courtyard enclosed on all sides by the wallsof the building. Heavy oak doors of an antique design opened straightonto the court from the various corridors and lecture rooms and at oneend was the library, a beautiful room with a groined roof and stainedglass windows, like a chap
el. Low stone benches were ranged along thearcade of the court, whereon sat numerous girls laughing and talkingtogether.
Although she considered that undue honors were being paid them by havingas guide this dashing sophomore, somehow Molly still felt the icy gripof homesickness on her heart. Nance seemed so unsympathetic and reservedand there was a kind of hardness about this Frances Andrews that madethe warm-hearted, affectionate Molly a bit uncomfortable. Suddenly Nancespied her old friend, Caroline Brinton, in the distance, and rushed overto join her. As she left, three girls came toward them, talkinganimatedly.
"Hello, Jennie Wren!" called Frances gayly. It was the same littlebird-like person who had been in the bus. "Howdy, Rosamond. How are you,Lotta? It's awfully nice to be back at the old stand again. Let meintroduce you to my new almost-roommate, Miss Brown," went on Franceshurriedly, as if to fill up the gaps of silence which greeted them.
"How do you do, Miss Andrews," said Jennie Wren, stiffly.
Rosamond Chase, who had a plump figure and a round, good-natured face,was slightly warmer in her greeting.
"How are you, Frankie? I thought you were going to France this winter."
The other girl who had a turned-up nose and blonde hair, and was called"Peggy Parsons," sniffed slightly and put her hands behind her back asif she wished to avoid shaking hands.
Molly was so shocked that she felt the tears rising to her eyes. "I wishI had never come to college," she thought, "if this is the way oldfriends treat each other."
She slipped her arm through Frances Andrews' and gave it a sympatheticsqueeze.
"Won't you show me the Cloisters?" she said. "I'm pining to see whatthey are like."
"Come along," said Frances, quite cheerfully, in spite of the fact thatshe had just been snubbed by three of her own classmates.
Lifting the latch of a small oak door fitted under a pointed arch, sheled the way through a passage to another oak door which opened directlyon the Cloisters. Molly gave an exclamation of pleasure.
"Oh," she cried, "are we really allowed to walk in this wonderfulplace?"
"As much as you like before six P. M.," answered Frances. "How do youdo, Miss Pembroke?"
A tall woman with a grave, handsome face was waiting under the archedarcade to go through the door.
"So you decided to come back to us, Miss Andrews. I'm very glad of it.Come into my office a moment. I want a few words with you beforesupper."
"You can find your way back to Queen's by yourself, can't you, MissBrown?" asked Frances. "I'll see you later."
And in another moment, Molly Brown was quite alone in the Cloisters. Shewas glad to be alone. She wanted to think. She paced slowly along thecloistered walk, each stone arch of which framed a picture of the grassycourt with an Italian fountain in the center.
"It's exactly like an old monastery," she said to herself. "I wonderanybody could ever be frivolous or flippant in such an old world spot asthis. I could easily imagine myself a monk, telling my beads."
She sat down on a stone bench and folded her hands meditatively.
"So far, I've really only made one friend at college," she thought toherself, for Nance Oldham was too reserved to be called a friend yet,"and that friend is Frances Andrews. Who is she? What is she? Why doher classmates snub her and why did Miss Pembroke, who belonged to thefaculty, wish to speak with her in her private office?" It was allqueer, very queer. Somehow, it seemed to Molly now that what she hadtaken for whirlwind manners was really a tremendous excitement underwhich Frances Andrews was laboring. She was trying to brazen outsomething.
"Just the same, I'm sorry for her," she said out loud.
At that moment, a musical, deep-throated bell boomed out six times inthe stillness of the cloisters. There was the sound of a door opening, apause and the door closed with a clicking noise. Molly started from herreverie. It was six o'clock. She rushed to the door of antique designthrough which she had entered just fifteen minutes before. It was closedand locked securely. She knocked loudly and called:
"Let me out! Let me out! I'm locked in!"
Then she waited, but no one answered. In the stillness of the twilitcourtyard she could hear the sounds of laughter and talking from theQuadrangle. They grew fainter and fainter. A gray chill settled downover the place and Molly looked about her with a feeling of utterdesolation. She had been locked in the Cloisters for the night.