Helen, by this time, having recovered
her usual self-possession, was talking “nineteen
to the dozen” to their new friend. Ruth
was not in the least suspicious; but Mary Cox’s
countenance was altogether too sharp, her gray eyes
were too sly, her manner to the French teacher had
been too unkind, for Ruth to become greatly enamored
of the Junior. It did really seem very kind
of her, however, to put herself out in this way for
two “Infants.”
“How many teachers are there?”
Helen was asking. “And are they all as
little as that Miss Picolet?”
“Oh, she!” ejaculated
Mary Cox, with scorn. “Nobody pays any
attention to her. She’s not liked, I can
tell you.”
“Why, she seemed nice enough
to us only not very friendly,” said
Helen, slowly, for Helen was naturally a kind-hearted
girl.
“She’s a poverty-stricken
little foreigner. She scarcely ever wears a
decent dress. I don’t really see why Mrs.
Tellingham has her at the school at all. She
has no friends, or relatives, or anybody that knows
her ”
“Oh, yes she has,” said Helen, laughing.
“What do you mean?” inquired Mary Cox,
suspiciously.
“We saw somebody on the boat
coming over to Portageton that knew Miss Picolet.”
“Oh, Helen!” ejaculated Ruth, warningly.
But it was too late, Mary Cox wanted
to know what Helen meant, and the story of the fat
man who had played the harp in the boat orchestra,
and who had frightened the French teacher, and had
afterward talked so earnestly with her on the dock,
all came out in explanation. The Junior listened
with a quiet but unpleasant smile upon her face.
“That’s just what we’ve
always thought about Miss Picolet,” she said.
“Her people must be dreadfully common.
Friends with a ruffian who plays a harp on a steamboat
for his living! Well!”
“Perhaps he is no relative or
friend of hers,” suggested Ruth, timidly.
“Indeed, she seemed to be afraid of him.”
“He’s mixed up in her
private affairs, at least,” said Mary, significantly.
“I never could bear Miss Picolet!”
Ruth was very sorry that Helen had
happened upon this unfortunate subject. But
her chum failed to see the significance of it, and
the girl from the Red Mill had no opportunity of warning
Helen. Mary Cox, too, was most friendly, and
it seemed ungrateful to be anything but frank and
pleasant with her. Not many big girls (so thought
both Ruth and Helen) would have put themselves out
to walk up to Briarwood Hall with two Infants and
their baggage.
Through breaks in the cedar grove
the girls began to catch glimpses of the brown old
buildings of Briarwood Hall. Ivy masked the entire
end of one of the buildings, and even ran up the chimneys.
It had been cut away from the windows, and they showed
brilliantly now with the descending sun shining redly
upon them.
“It’s a beautiful old place, Helen,”
sighed Ruth.
“I believe you!” agreed her chum, enthusiastically.
“It was originally a great manor
house. That was the first building where the
tower is,” said Mary Cox, as they came out at
last upon the more open lawn that gave approach to
this side of the collection of buildings, which had
been more recently built than the main house.
They were built around a rectangular piece of turf
called the campus. This, however, the newcomers
discovered later, for they came up in the rear of
the particular dormitory building in which Mary declared
their room was situated.
“You can go to the office afterwards,”
she explained, kindly. “You’ll want
to wash and fix up a little after traveling so far.
It always makes one so dirty.”
“This is a whole lot better
than the way poor Tom was received at his school;
isn’t it?” whispered Helen, tucking her
arm in Ruth’s as they came to the steps of the
building.
Ruth nodded. But there were
so many new things to see that Ruth had few words
to spare. There were plenty of girls in sight
now. It seemed to the girl from the Red Mill
as though there were hundreds of them. Short
girls, tall girls, thin girls, plump girls and
the very plumpest girl of her age that Ruth had ever
seen, stood right at the top of the steps. She
had a pretty, pink, doll-like face which was perpetually
a-smile. Whereas some of the girls especially
the older ones stared rather haughtily
at the two Infants, this fat girl welcomed them with
a broadening smile.
“Hello, Heavy,” said Mary
Cox, laughing. “It must be close to supper
bell, for you’re all ready, I see.”
“No,” said the stout girl.
“There’s an hour yet. Are these
the two?” she added, nodding at Ruth and Helen.
“I always get what I go after,”
Ruth heard Mary say, as they whisked in at the door.
In the hall a quiet, pleasant-faced
woman in cap and apron met them.
“This is Helen Cameron and Ruth
Fielding, Miss Scrimp,” said Mary. “Miss
Scrimp is matron of our dormitory, girls. I am
going up, Miss Scrimp, and I’ll show them to
their duet.”
“Very well, Miss Cox,”
said the woman, producing two keys, one of which she
handed to each of the chums. “Be ready
for the bell, girls. You can see Mrs. Tellingham
after supper.”
Ruth stopped to thank her, but Mary
swept Helen on with her up the broad stairway.
The room the chums were to occupy (Mr. Cameron had
made this arrangement for them) was up this first flight
only, but was at the other end of the building, overlooking
the campus. It seemed a long walk down the corridor.
Some of the doors stood open, and more girls looked
out at them curiously as they pursued their way.
Mary was talking in a low voice to
Helen now, and Ruth could not hear what she said.
But when they stopped at the end of the corridor,
and Helen fitted her key into the lock of the door,
she said:
“We’d be delighted, Miss
Cox. Oh, yes! Ruth and I will both come.”
Mary went away whistling and they
heard her laughing and talking with other girls who
had come out into the corridor before the chums were
well in their own room. And what a delightful
place it seemed to the two girls, when they entered!
Not so small, either. There were two single
beds, two dressing tables, running water in a bowl,
two closets and two chairs all this at
one end of the room. At the other end was a
good-sized table to work at, chairs, a couch, and two
sets of shelves for their books. There were
two broad windows with wide seats under them, too.
“Isn’t it just scrumptious?”
cried Helen, hugging Ruth in her delight. “And
just think it’s our very own!
Oh, Ruthie! won’t we just have good times here?”
Ruth was quite as delighted, if she
was not so volubly enthusiastic as Helen. It
was a much nicer room, of course, than the girl from
the Red Mill had ever had before. Her tiny little
chamber at the Red Mill was nothing like this.
The girls removed such marks of travel
as they could and freshened their dress as well as
possible. Their trunks would not arrive at the
school until morning, they knew; but they had brought
their toilet articles in their bags. These made
some display on Helen’s dresser,
at least. But when their little possessions came
they could make the room look more “homey.”
Barely had they arranged their hair
when a gentle rap sounded at the door.
“Perhaps that’s Miss Cox
again,” said Helen. “Isn’t
she nice, Ruth?”
Her friend had no time to reply before
opening the door to the visitor. It was not Miss
Cox, but Ruth immediately recognized the tall girl
whom Mary Cox had addressed as Madge Steele.
She came in with a frank smile and her hand held
out.
“I didn’t know you were
going to come to my corridor,” she said, frankly.
“Which of you is Miss Fielding, and which is
Miss Cameron?”
It made the chums feel really grown
up to be called “Miss,” and they liked
this pretty girl at once. Ruth explained their
identity as she shook hands. Helen was quite
as warmly greeted.
“You will like Briarwood,”
said Madge Steele. “I know you will.
I understand you will enter the Junior classes.
I have just entered the Senior grade this year.
There are lots of nice girls on this corridor.
I’ll be glad to introduce you after supper.”
“We have not been to the office
yet,” said Ruth. “I believe that
is customary?”
“Oh, you must see the Preceptress.
She’s just as nice as she can be, is Mrs. Tellingham.
You’ll see her right after supper?”
“I presume so,” Ruth said.
“Then, I tell you what,”
said Madge. “I’ll wait for you and
take you to the Forward Club afterwards. We
have an open meeting this evening. Mrs. Tellingham
will be there she is a member, you know so
are the other teachers. We try to make all the
new girls feel at home.”
She nodded to them both brightly and
went out. Ruth turned to her chum with a smile.
“Isn’t that nice of her,
Helen?” she said. “We are getting
on famously Why, Helen! what’s
the matter?” she cried.
Helen’s countenance was clouded
indeed. She shook her head obstinately.
“We can’t go with her, Ruth,” she
declared.
“Can’t go with her?”
“No.”
“Why not, pray?” asked Ruth, much puzzled.
“We can’t go to that Forward Club,”
said Helen, more emphatically.
“Why, my dear!” exclaimed
Ruth. “Of course we must. We haven’t
got to join it. Maybe they wouldn’t ask
us to join it, anyway. You see, it’s patronized
by the teachers and the Preceptress herself.
We’ll be sure to meet the very nicest girls.”
“That doesn’t follow,”
said Helen, somewhat stubbornly. “Anyway,
we can’t go, Ruth.”
“But I don’t understand, dear,”
said the puzzled Ruth.
“Why, don’t you see?”
exclaimed Helen, with some exasperation. “I
told Miss Cox we’d go with her.”
“Go where?”
“To her club. They
hold a meeting this evening, too. You know,
she said there was rivalry between the two big school
clubs. Hers is the Upedes.”
“Oh! the Up and Doings,” laughed Ruth.
“I remember.”
“She said she would wait for
us after we get through with Mrs. Tellingham and introduce
us to her friends.”
“Well!” gasped Ruth, with
a sigh. “We most certainly cannot go to
both. What shall we do?”