CHAPTER II
J. ELFREDA INTRODUCES HERSELF.
For the first half hour the three girls were silent. Each sat wrapped inher own thoughts, and those thoughts centered upon the dear ones leftbehind. Anne, whose venture into the theatrical world had necessitatedher frequent absence from home, felt the wrench less than did Grace orMiriam. Aside from their summer vacations they had never been away fromtheir mothers for any length of time. To Grace, as she watched thelandscape flit by, the thought of the ever widening distance between herand her mother was intolerable. She experienced a strong desire to buryher face in her hands and sob disconsolately, but bravely conquering thesense of loneliness that swept over her, she threw back her shouldersand sitting very straight in her seat glanced almost defiantly abouther.
"Well, Grace, have you made up your mind to be resigned?" asked MiriamNesbit. "That sudden world-defying glance that you just favored us withlooks as though the victory was won."
"Miriam, you are almost a mind reader," laughed Grace. "I've been onthe verge of a breakdown ever since we left Oakdale, and in this veryinstant I made up my mind to be brave and not cry a single tear. Look atAnne. She is as calm and unemotional as a statue."
"That's because I'm more used to being away from home," replied Anne."Troupers are not supposed to have feelings. With them, it is hereto-day and gone to-morrow."
"Yes, but you were transplanted to Oakdale soil for four years,"reminded Grace.
"I know it," returned Anne reflectively. "I do feel dreadfully sad atleaving my mother and sister, too. Still, when I think that I'm actuallyon the way to college at last, I can't help feeling happy, too."
"Dear little Anne," smiled Grace. "College means everything to you,doesn't it? That's because you've earned every cent of your collegemoney."
"And I'll have to earn a great deal more to see me through tograduation," added Anne soberly. "My vacations hereafter must be spentin work instead of play."
"What are you going to do to earn money during vacations, Anne?" askedMiriam rather curiously.
"I might as well confess to you girls that I'm going to do the work Ican do most successfully," said Anne in a low voice. "I'm going to tryto get an engagement in a stock theatrical company every summer until Igraduate. I can earn far more money at that than doing clerical work. Ireceived a long letter from Mr. Southard last week and also one from hissister. They wish me to come to New York as soon as my freshman year atcollege is over. Mr. Southard writes that he can get an engagement forme in a stock company. I'll have to work frightfully hard, for therewill be a matinee every day as well as a regular performance everynight, and I'll have a new part to study each week. But the salary willmore than compensate me for my work. You know that Mary did dress-makingand worked night and day to send me to high school. Of course, my fivedollars a week from Mrs. Gray helped a great deal, but up to the timeMr. Southard sent for me to go to New York City to play Rosalind Ididn't really think of college as at all certain. Before I left New Yorkfor Oakdale, Mr. and Miss Southard and I had a long talk. They made mesee that it was right to use the talent God had given me by appearing inworthy plays. Mr. Southard pointed out the fact that I could earn enoughmoney by playing in stock companies in the summer to put me throughcollege and at the same time contribute liberally to my mother'ssupport.
"The home problem was really the greatest to be solved. I felt that itwouldn't be right for me to even work my way through college and leaveMary to struggle on alone, after she had worked so hard to help me get ahigh school education. So the stage seemed to be my one way out afterall. And when once I had definitely decided to do as Mr. Southardrecommended me to do I was happier than I had been for ages."
"Anne Pierson, you quiet little mouse!" exclaimed Grace. "Why didn't youtell us all this before? You are the most provoking Anne under the sun.Here I've been worrying about you having to wait on table or do tutoringand odds and ends of work to put yourself through college, while all thetime you were planning something different. We all know you're too proudto let any of your friends help you, but since you are determined tomake your own way I'm glad that you have chosen the stage, after all."
"I think you are wise, Anne," agreed Miriam. "With two such people asMr. Southard and his sister to look after you, there can be no objectionto your following your profession."
"I am glad to know that you girls look at the matter in that light,"replied Anne.
"Suppose we had offered any objections?" asked Grace.
"I'll answer that question," said Miriam. "Anne would have followed thepath she had marked out for herself regardless of our objections. Am Iright, Anne?"
"I don't know," said Anne, flushing deeply. "You have all been so goodto me. I couldn't bear to displease my dearest friends, but it would behard to give up something I knew could result in nothing save good forme." Anne paused and looked at Grace and Miriam with pleading eyes.
"Never mind, dear," comforted Grace. "We approve of you and all yourworks. We are not shocked because you are a genius. We are swornadvocates of the stage and only too glad to know that it has opened theway to college for you."
"Shall you let the fact that you have appeared professionally be knownat Overton?" asked Miriam.
"I shall make no secret of it," returned Anne quietly, "but I won'tvolunteer any information concerning it."
"I wonder what our freshman year at Overton will bring us," mused Grace."I have read so many stories about college life, and yet so far Overtonseems like an unknown land that we are about to explore. From all I haveheard and read, exploring freshmen find their first term at collegeanything but a bed of roses. They are sometimes hazed unmercifully bythe upper classes, and their only salvation lies in silently standingthe test. Julia Crosby says that she had all sorts of tricks played onher during her first term at Smith. Now she's a sophomore and can makelife miserable for the freshmen. I am going to try to cultivate the truecollege spirit," concluded Grace earnestly. "College is going to meaneven more to me than high school. I don't imagine it's all going to beplain sailing. I suppose, more than once, I'll wish myself back inOakdale, but I'm going to make up my mind to take the bitter with thesweet and set everything down under the head of experience."
"To tell you the truth," Miriam said slowly, "I am not enthusiastic overcollege. I value it as a means of continuing my education, and I'll tryto live up to college ideals, but I'm not going to let anyone walk overme or ridicule me. I'm willing 'to live and let live,' but, as EleanorSavelli used to say when in a towering rage, 'no one can trample upon mewith impunity.'"
"I wonder when we shall see Eleanor again," said Anne, smiling a littleat the recollection called up by Miriam's quotation.
"That reminds me," exclaimed Grace. "I have a letter from Eleanor thatI haven't opened. It came this morning just before I left the house."Fumbling in her bag, Grace drew forth a bulky looking letter, bearing aforeign postmark, and tearing open the end, drew out several closelyfolded sheets of thin paper covered with Eleanor's characteristichandwriting.
"Shall I read it aloud?" asked Grace.
"By all means," said Miriam with emphasis.
Grace began to read. Anne, who sat beside her, looked over her shoulder,while Miriam, who sat opposite Grace, leaned forward in order to catchevery word. They were so completely occupied with their own affairs,none of them noticed that the train had stopped. Suddenly a voiceshrilled out impatiently, "Is this seat engaged?" With one accord thethree girls glanced up. Before them stood a tall, rather stout youngwoman with a full, red face, whose frowning expression was anything butreassuring.
"Yes--no, I mean," replied Grace hastily.
"I thought not," remarked the stranger complacently as she stolidlyseated herself beside Miriam and deposited a traveling bag partly on thefloor and partly on Grace's feet.
"These seats are ridiculously small," grumbled the stranger, bendingover to jam her traveling bag more firmly into the space from whichGrace had hastily withdrawn her feet. Then straightening
up suddenly,her heavily plumed hat collided with the hand in which Grace heldEleanor's letter, scattering the sheets in every direction. With alittle cry of concern Grace sprang to her feet and, stepping out in theaisle, began to pick them up. Having recovered the last one she turnedto her seat only to find it occupied by their unwelcome fellow traveler.
"I changed seats," commented the stout girl stolidly. "I never couldstand it to ride backwards."
Grace looked first at the stranger then from Miriam to Anne. Miriamlooked ready for battle, while even mild little Anne glared resentfullyat the rude newcomer. Grace hesitated, opened her mouth as though aboutto speak, then without saying a word sat down in the vacant place andbegan to rearrange the sheets of her letter.
"I'll finish this some other time, girls," she said briefly.
"Oh, you needn't mind me," calmly remarked the stranger. "I don't mindlistening to letters. That is if they've got anything in them besides 'Iwrite these few lines to tell you that I am well and hope you are thesame.' That sort of stuff makes me sick. Goodness knows, I supposethat's the kind I'll have handed to me all year. Neither Ma nor Pa canwrite a letter that sounds like anything."
By this time Miriam's frown had begun to disappear, while Anne's eyeswere dancing.
Grace looked at the stout girl rather curiously, an expression of newinterest dawning in her eyes. "Are you going to college?" she asked.
"Well, I rather guess I am," was the quick reply. "I'll bet you girlsare in the same boat with me, too. What college do you get off at?"
"Overton," answered Grace.
"Then you haven't seen the last of me," assured the stranger, "for I'mgoing there myself and I'd just about as soon go to darkest Africa orany other heathen place."
"Why don't you wish to go to Overton?" asked Anne.
"Because I don't want to go to college at all," was the blunt answer. "Iwant to go to Europe with Ma and Pa and have a good time. We have loadsof money, but what good does that do me if I can't get a chance to spendit? I'd fail in all my exams if I dared, but Pa knows I'm not a woodenhead, and I'd just have to try it again somewhere else. So I'll have tolet well enough alone or get in deeper than I am now."
The stout girl leaned back in her seat and surveyed the trio of girlsthrough half-closed eyes. "Where did you girls come from and what areyour names?" she asked abruptly. "Partners in misery might as well getacquainted, you know."
Grace introduced her friends in turn, then said: "My name is GraceHarlowe, and we three girls live in the city of Oakdale."
"Never heard of it," yawned the girl. "It must be like Fairview, ourtown, not down on the map. We live there, because Ma was born there andthinks it the only place on earth, but we manage to go to New Yorkoccasionally, thank goodness. Ever been there?" she queried.
"Once or twice," smiled Miriam Nesbit.
"Great old town, isn't it?" remarked their new acquaintance. "My name isJ. Elfreda Briggs. The J. stands for Josephine, but I hate it. Ma and Pacall me Fred, and that sounds pretty good to me. Say, aren't you girlsabout starved? I'm going to hunt the dining car and buy food. I haven'thad anything to eat since eight o'clock this morning."
J. Elfreda rose hurriedly, and stumbling over her bag and Grace's feet,landed in the aisle with more speed than elegance. "You'd better comealong," she advised. "They serve good meals on this train. Besides, Idon't want to eat alone." With that she stalked down the aisle and intothe car ahead.
"It looks as though we were to have plenty of entertainment for the restof our journey," remarked Anne.
"I prefer not to be entertained," averred Miriam dryly. "Personally, Iam far from impressed with J. Elfreda. She strikes me as being entirelytoo fond of her own comfort. Now that she has vacated your seat, you hadbetter take it, Grace, before she comes back."
Grace shook her head. "I don't dislike riding backward," she said, "ifyou don't mind having her sit beside you. Perhaps some one will leavethe train by the time she comes back; then she will leave us."
"No such good fortune," retorted Miriam. "She prefers our society tonone at all. I think her advice about luncheon isn't so bad, though.Suppose we follow it?"
Five minutes later the three girls repaired to the dining car and seatedthemselves at a table directly across the aisle from their newacquaintance. J. Elfreda sat toying with her knife and fork, animpatient frown on her smug face. "These people are the limit," shegrumbled. "It takes forever to get anything to eat. If I'd ordered ityesterday, I'd have some hopes of getting it to-day." Then, apparentlyforgetting the existence of the three girls, she sat with eyes fixedhungrily on the door through which her waiter was momentarily expectedto pass. By the time that the chums had given their order to anotherwaiter, J. Elfreda's luncheon was served and she devoted herselfassiduously to it. When Grace and her friends had finished luncheon,however, the stout girl still sat with elbows on the table waiting for asecond order of dessert.
"Good gracious!" remarked Miriam as they made their way back to theirseats. "No wonder J. Elfreda is stout! I suppose I shouldn't refer toher, even behind her back, in such familiar terms, but nothing elsesuits her. I'm not charitable like you, Grace. I haven't the patience tolook for the good in tiresome people like her. I think she's greedy andselfish and ill-bred and I wouldn't care to live in the same house withher."
"You're a very disagreeable person, Miriam, in your own estimation,"laughed Grace, "but fortunately we don't take you at your own valuation,do we, Anne?"
"Miriam's a dear," said Anne promptly. "She always pretends she's adragon and then behaves like a lamb."
"What time is our train due at Overton?" asked Miriam, ignoring Anne'sassertion.
"We are scheduled to arrive at Overton at five o'clock," answered Grace."I wish it were five now. I'm anxious to see Overton College in broaddaylight."
At this juncture J. Elfreda made her appearance and sinking into theseat declared with a yawn that she was too sleepy for any use. "I'mgoing to sleep," she announced. "You girls can talk if you don't maketoo much noise. Loud talking always keeps me awake. You may call me whenwe get to Overton." With these words she bent over her bag, opened it,and drew out a small down cushion. She rose in her seat, removed herhat, and, poking it into the rack above her head, sat down. Arrangingher pillow to her complete satisfaction, she rested her head against it,closed her eyes and within five minutes was oblivious to the world.
The three travelers obligingly lowered their voices, conversing in lowtones, as the train whirled them toward their destination. Their heartswere with those they had left, and as the afternoon began to wane, oneby one they fell silent and became wrapped in their own thoughts. Gracewas already beginning to experience a dreadful feeling of depression,which she knew to be homesickness. It was just the time in the afternoonwhen she and her mother usually sat on their wide, shady porch, talkingor reading as they waited for her father to come home to dinner, and alump rose in her throat as she thought sadly of how long it would bebefore she saw her dear ones again.
Far from being homesick, self-reliant Miriam was calmly speculating asto what college would bring her, while Anne, who had quite forgotten herown problems, sat eyeing Grace affectionately and wondering how soon herfriend would make her personality felt in the little world which she wasabout to enter. And J. Elfreda Briggs, of Fairview, slept peacefullyon.