Marjorie Dean, Post-Graduate

“Brede ye, therefore, sweet maid, no vanitye of the mind, but say ye raythere, at even, a prayer of thankfulnesse for the gifte of Beauty by the Grace of God.”

Strangely enough the ancient sentiment had popped into her mind at sight of beautiful, golden-haired Miss Monroe. With it had come a kindly plan of her own. She promised herself that she would put it into action as soon as she came back to Hamilton in the fall.

As a result of Miss Hamilton’s energetic effort on behalf of Page and Dean, the willing firm found themselves more willing to work than overcrowded with it. More the secretive old lady ordered Marjorie and Robin to do nothing but have a good time with their chums for the next three days and not dare to come near the Arms or even call her on the telephone. Her emphatic message to them was:

“Come to the Arms to seven o’clock dinner, all of you, next Sunday evening. That means be at the Arms by three in the afternoon. Perhaps you may hear something to your interest.”

Robin and Marjorie had not yet been nearer the cherished site than the point on Hamilton Highway from which they had viewed it on the day of their arrival on the campus. They delicately refrained from examining the work at close range until they had talked with Miss Susanna and received her sanction.

“We can well afford this layoff,” Robin had blithely declared to Marjorie. “Thanks to Miss Susanna we’re miles farther ahead with this work than we dreamed of being.” Marjorie patiently agreed with her though the two laughed as each read the longing for action in the other’s face. The promoters were brimming with the buoyant impulse of youth. They yearned to get directly in touch with the big doings on the newly purchased property. Absolute belief that Miss Susanna had done better for the enterprise than they could have done had served to put a loyal curb on their natural impatience.

Meanwhile the five Travelers were deriving untold satisfaction from their reunion. Kathie’s mornings and early afternoons were occupied in coaching her aspiring freshmen. She could always be counted upon for late afternoon and evening. Leila and Vera had nothing to do save please their chums, incidentally pleasing themselves. Marjorie and Robin talked importantly about being “laid-off” and took occasion to make the most of it.

Sunday afternoon saw them leaving the campus in Vera’s car, radiant with health and good looks, which their delicate summer finery intensified. A “bid” to the Arms was always a red letter occasion. They were bubbling with light-hearted satisfaction. Miss Susanna, seated in a high-backed rocker on the ivy-decked veranda, appeared to catch the spirit of their gaiety. She got up from her chair and waved a book she had been reading in energetic salute as the roadster rolled up the drive. She was wearing a soft white silk dress, turned in a little at the neck and fastened with a priceless cameo pin, oval and set with a double row of pearls and rubies.

“Now doesn’t she look like the pleased old child?” Leila murmured to Marjorie as they left the car.

Marjorie had time only for a quick nod. She quite agreed with Leila. The touch of grimness usually present on Miss Hamilton’s face had given place to a childishly happy look which was good to see.

No one of the five Travelers were ever likely to forget that particular afternoon chiefly because of the peculiarly charming “youngness” of spirit exhibited by Miss Susanna. It fascinated them all. It was as though she had gone back over the years to girlhood.

They spent the afternoon out of doors, at first roving about the magnificent breadth of lawn with their vivacious guide. She had plenty of interesting bits of the history of the Hamiltons to relate, called to mind at sight of a particular tree, shrub or nook of special vernal or floral beauty.

Later, they gathered in a quaint Chinese pagoda set in the midst of a group of graceful larches. There Jonas brought them tea and sweet crackers, all Miss Susanna would allow them to have on account of the approaching dinner hour. While they sipped the finest Chinese tea and nibbled crackers she told them of how Prince Tuan Chi, a Chinese noble and a friend of Brooke Hamilton, and her great uncle had themselves built the pagoda during a summer the young Chinese lord had spent at Hamilton Arms.

“All that happened before my time,” Miss Susanna concluded with a sigh. There was a far-away gleam in her bright dark eyes. “Uncle Brooke used to tell me such tales when he and I took our walks about the Arms. Sometimes he would choose to walk with Jonas instead of me. Jonas was like a younger brother to him. How hurt I used to feel,” she declared with a smile of self-mockery.

Thus far she had made no mention of the topic dear to Robin and Marjorie. Each time she spoke, in her crisp enunciation they pricked up mental ears. Each time they were doomed to vague disappointment. Still they could not fail to treasure every word she related concerning their idol, Brooke Hamilton.

“What time is it, Marjorie?” Miss Susanna finally asked. She cast a glance at the sun making its leisurely descent down the western sky. “My guess is – let me see – ten minutes past five.”

“It’s seven after. I should say you can guess time!” Robin opened surprised eyes. “Beg your pardon, Marjorie,” she apologized. “I know you’re not dumb.”

“Considering you are Page and I am Dean, I’ll forgive you,” Marjorie assumed an important air. “Aren’t the firm of Page and Dean one?”

“They are,” Robin replied solemnly as though taking a vow.

“Which reminds me,” broke in Miss Susanna, “that I have some business to transact with this distinguished firm, even if it is Sunday.” There was a suggestion of eager stir in her announcement.

Marjorie felt an all but irresistible desire to ejaculate “Ha-a-a!” in one long relieved breath. It was coming at last. Robin wished she dared steal one glance at Marjorie. Instead she sat very still, a faint-breathing figure of expectation. Leila, Vera and Katherine watched Page and Dean and smiled. They, and they alone, knew how great had been the suspense of the promoters. Leila, ever full of fancy and mysticism wondered imaginatively if, somewhere in a world of light beyond the stars, Brooke Hamilton lived and watched with approval the carrying on of his beloved work.

CHAPTER XV. – OUT OF THE NIGHT

“What I have to say is particularly for Page and Dean though any and all Travelers are welcome to hear it,” Miss Susanna’s bright, bird-like eyes danced as she fondly surveyed her flock. A spot of vivid pink had appeared high on each cheek. She was like a youngster about to make a special confidence.

“To begin with,” she said, “it was not my business to meddle with the affairs of Page and Dean. I have no excuse to offer. I meddled because – well – I felt the need of meddling. Jonas egged me on. He’s every bit as much to blame as I.” She gave the gleeful chuckle which the girls loved so much to hear. “You two rising promoters did not know a certain man I know, and have known for years. Perhaps he is my real excuse for meddling.” The little old lady tilted her head reflectively to one side.

“That man is Peter Graham,” she continued. “The Grahams are one of the old Hamilton families. Peter Graham’s wife, Anne Dexter, and I were chums. I was Anne’s sole attendant when she married Peter. They never achieved riches as Uncle Brooke did. They were lucky in love, but have been unlucky in business. Peter is still a builder, graduated from a carpentership. As a young man he wished to study architecture. Then he married and lost track of his ambition in trying to be a creditable family man. He had a natural genius for planning houses and large buildings and did well when he could secure a contract. Hamilton is chiefly made up of old houses, mostly colonial, and staunchly built. I used to advise Peter to go away from here and establish himself in a large city where contracts were more plentiful, but Anne did not wish to leave Hamilton. Once I offered to help him and hurt his feelings dreadfully. When you talked of building a dormitory I did not at first think of Peter. After you girls had left here last June it flashed across me one afternoon as I was taking my walk that Peter’s chance had come at last.”

An audible breath of approval ascended from the attentive listeners. They were already deeply enough interested in Peter Graham to be in sympathy with his upward struggle.

“I knew I could trust Peter to give you his best in all ways,” was the positive declaration. “His bid for the entire operation – tearing down the old houses, preparing the site for the new building and erecting the dormitory was moderate in comparison with the figures I received from two widely known firms of builders. As you children have resolved to clear away the debt you will incur in building the dormitory you can do no better than trust the operation to Peter Graham. Jonas agrees with me. At first I thought of writing you about it, Marjorie. I found I did not feel like writing. I decided to tell you and Robin when you came to Hamilton. Time was flying, with nothing done. I sent for Peter and told him what I wanted. I made him happy. I know you are pleased with the progress he has made. But I don’t know what you think of Jonas and me.” She stopped with a half embarrassed laugh.

“There is only one thing we could think.” Marjorie’s face glowed with devotion. “You and Jonas must feel about Hamilton as Mr. Brooke Hamilton felt. You’d have to, in your heart, or you couldn’t have done such wonderful things for the students to come.”

“No such thing,” contradicted the old lady in an odd, harsh voice. “I mean, the way I feel about the college. Jonas is Uncle Brooke’s man, heart and soul. He still nurses all of Uncle Brooke’s plans for Hamilton College. Let us have it understood, here and now, that if a dear little friend of mine, Marjorie Dean, had not interested me in the plucky way she and her chums were fighting to turn that snob shop on the campus into a democracy, I’d not have lifted a finger for the benefit of Hamilton. As it turned out, Marvelous Manager’s way was his way. So I managed to please both,” she ended, her tone softening.

“Truly, Miss Susanna, that is the nicest compliment I ever had.” Marjorie showed such obvious delight at being ranked with the man she so reverenced that Miss Susanna’s own crinkly smile broke forth.

“Glad you liked it.” She continued to smile. Marjorie regarded her eccentric benefactor with utter devotion. Miss Susanna was flowering forth into graciousness as a peach tree breaks forth into rosy bloom in early spring. The others were watching the devoted pair and smiling their approval.

“You had better come to tea tomorrow afternoon, Robin and Marjorie,” Miss Hamilton now invited. “I’ll send for Peter Graham to come, too. Then you can talk matters over with him. There’ll be no papers to sign. Our word is as good as Peter’s and Peter’s is as good as ours. Don’t cry because you’re not invited to tea,” she humorously consoled the uninvited trio. “I’ll invite you to tea one of these fine days and leave out Page and Dean.”

“You wouldn’t be so mean,” protested Robin.

“Wait a while and see,” teased Leila, nodding with lifted brows at Page and Dean.

Having confessed her part and Jonas’ in starting the building of the dormitory ahead of time, Miss Susanna had a great deal more to say on the subject. When Jonas came to remove the tea things she sent him to the house for a bundle of plans and specifications. These she spread out on the rustic table and began an explanation of them to her young friends.

“There’ll be some water color drawings for you to see before long,” she made lively promise. “Peter will do them himself. He is very clever in that line.”

In spite of the fact that the supposedly crabbed mistress of Hamilton Arms mingled little with the business world she had a shrewd practical idea of values. She had listened carefully to her old friend, Peter Graham, when he had gone over the plans and specifications with her. Now she was ready to pass the information she had gained on to the five Travelers. So absorbed were they in listening as she unfolded the cherished enterprise to them they lost all idea of time. Jonas’ deep gentle announcement: “Dinner time, Miss Susanna,” reminded them that afternoon had slipped into evening.

It seemed to them that the end of a perfect day had indeed arrived when Miss Hamilton led the dinner procession of three couples into the tea room instead of the dining room. More, she explained that Jonas was proficient in Chinese cookery. Under his direction the cook would serve them with a real Chinese dinner.

It began with shark-fin soup and celery hearts, went triumphantly on through chicken mushroom chop suey, chow mein, rice, cooked as few other than the Chinese can cook rice, and costly Chinese tea. It ended with a very sweet dessert of preserved kumquats, crystalized ginger, almond cakes and barley candy. Jonas had spent the greater part of the day preparing the feast from recipes which he, Brooke Hamilton and the young Chinese lord, Prince Tuan Chi, had tried out with laughter and good cheer in the immense old-fashioned kitchen of the Arms.

After dinner Miss Susanna martialed the girls into the music room to sing for her. Robin was immediately besieged by all to sing.

“Oh, no,” she demurred. “I’ll play for all of us to sing.” She began to play softly a song they all knew. They could not resist the lilt of it so they sang in concert. Several others, equal favorites followed.

“I’ve struck,” Marjorie declared at the end of a fascinating waltz song from a recent musical success. “Not another note.”

“So have I.” There was an understanding glint in Leila’s eyes. She rolled them meaningly at Vera and Katherine, then toward Robin. Two more reinforced the strike. Robin gave in and soon her glorious high soprano was filling the room with melody. She sang several of Miss Hamilton’s favorite selections from grand opera. Then she balked, insisting that each of the others should contribute a solo.

Miss Susanna gave a sudden funny little cackle of laughter and agreed to do her part. The strikers could do no less. Each performer was to play her own accompaniment. “If you can’t play it, play at it,” stipulated Robin.

Leila came first with what she announced was an old Irish chant. The accompaniment had a great deal of heavy rumbling in the bass, the chant rose in a heart-rending wail which threatened with every succeeding note to burst bounds and become a wild howl. It was finally drowned in a gale of laughter as Jonas, not understanding the situation, suddenly appeared in the doorway, amazement written on his face.

Vera sang “Sweet and Low” so prettily she was encored and sang a baby song she had learned in the kindergarten. Her lisping baby accents set the party to laughing afresh. Katherine sang a charming little song she had learned in first year Greek. Marjorie sang “Won’t you walk a little faster?” from “Alice in Wonderland,” to a tune which her general had fitted to Carroll’s immortal words when she was a youngster. It so charmed her hearers that within twenty minutes they were caroling “Will you, won’t you?” in gleeful chorus.

Miss Susanna, however, contributed the star selection. She sat down before the piano with a good deal of chuckling, played a kind of rambling prelude and in a light, but tuneful voice proceeded to sing of the woes of one, Lord Lovell. According to the song, which was composed of many sing-sing verses, each ending with a ridiculous repetition of the last word of the last line, Lord Lovell was extremely unlucky in love. The longer she sang, the wilder grew the mirth of her audience. The final “spasm,” as Miss Susanna afterward named it, told of the untimely death of both Lord Lovell and his lady fair and of how they were buried in one grave with sweet briar bushes planted above them. According to the song:

“The sweet briars grew till they reached the church top;

And there they couldn’t grow any higher;

And so they formed a true lovers’ knot,

Which all true lovers admire-rire-rire;

Which all true lovers admire.”

It was after ten o’clock when the concert ended and half past ten before the Travelers had said good-night to the mistress of the Arms and were on the road to the campus. They had left Miss Hamilton, gay and smiling, immensely inspirited by their visit.

Vera had asked Leila to take the wheel going to the campus. “I want to be a lady instead of a chauffeur for a change,” she plaintively explained to Leila.

“It takes more than sitting on the back seat of the car resting your hands and face to be a lady, Midget,” was Leila’s discouraging response.

Marjorie had elected to ride beside Leila. The two girls were trying to remember the words and at least part of the tune of “Lord Lovell.” Robin had said that she thought she could arrange it as a funny quartette. Miss Susanna had offered to find the music to it in an old book of hers.

“Look out, Leila; here comes a car, and fast, too,” Marjorie warned in a low tone. They were at the narrowest part of the highway which lay between them and the campus.

Leila had already seen the approaching car and was keeping her own side of the pike strictly. Came a flare of white lights. Marjorie cast an alert but incurious glance at the other car. She drew a sudden audible breath and said softly, but sharply: “Leila, did you see who was in that car?” In the same instant the car to which she referred glided on into the darkness of the summer night. Quickly as it had passed their automobile Marjorie had had a full glimpse of the driver of the other car. A young woman had the wheel whose dark irregular features were only too familiar. For reasons best known to herself, Leslie Cairns had returned to Hamilton.

CHAPTER XVI. – ENCHANTED?

During the busy days which followed the dinner with Miss Susanna, the firm of Page and Dean proved themselves worthy of the name promoters. Their first meeting with Peter Graham was the beginning of earnest daily consultations with him. Not a day passed that did not find them on the ground where their work was going steadily forward. They were a wise pair of promoters who left the management to Mr. Graham and never annoyed him by interfering with his arrangements. Part of the workmen were from the town of Hamilton, the other part from a colony of dark-faced foreigners who lived in the eastern section of the town.

Robin declared enthusiastically after her first morning spent at the site that just to see the men at work was inspiring. The minds of the two young women had been trained to grasp the principle of a problem or operation. It was not long before they had become familiar with the work in hand and understood much of it in detail.

Peter Graham was quietly happy over the rapid progress which was being made in the demolishment of the row of old houses. For years he had waited and longed for “a big chance.” Now it had come. He was devoted hardly less loyally to the building of the dormitory than were Robin and Marjorie.

Leila and Vera spent the days thinking up pleasant amusements for Page and Dean’s leisure hours. They were usually on hand with the roadster to take the pair of promoters to and from the site and for long drives afterward. They simulated a respect for Page and Dean which was flattering, but not genuine. They gave each other much loud advice about breaking in on a rising firm during business hours. Neither followed either her own or the other’s caution.

Since their kindly but unsuccessful attempt to welcome Doris Monroe to Wayland Hall and Hamilton College, none of the Travelers had ventured further friendly overtures. The four girls at the Hall breakfasted early. Miss Monroe invariably breakfasted as late as she could before the close of the breakfast hour. Once or twice they had met her sauntering into the dining room as they were leaving it.

A half smiling, indifferent nod, intended to include the four was indicative of her lack of interest in her recent callers. Occasionally one or another of the chums would chance to encounter her about the Hall or on the campus. She met them with the same slighting manner; only a remove from discourtesy.

“Miss Monroe of London and Paris has the manners of neither,” Leila delivered this unflattering opinion of the aloof student one Sunday afternoon. The chums had just encountered Miss Monroe on their way toward the east gate and the garage. “She is as rude as Leslie Cairns used to be. What a fine time the two could have together. One has no more politeness than the other.”

“She is so lovely, even though she isn’t a tiny bit cordial,” Marjorie said charitably. “It seems too bad that we can’t find a way to charm our fairy-tale princess.”

“Let her strictly alone,” was Leila’s succinct advice. “She would not be grateful to us for our trouble.”

“I can’t help agreeing with you, Leila,” Kathie said frankly. “Later she may thaw and decide she would like to know us. If that should happen, we’re not small-souled enough to resent past snubs.”

“Neither do we belong to the Royal Order of the Doormat,” Leila retorted. “She will have to turn most gracious if my wounded Irish pride is to be soothed.” Leila’s accompanying grin indicated precisely how greatly her sensitive Irish pride had been hurt.

“Do let us talk of something more interesting than that enigma,” Vera said with a patient sigh. “Why she should treat four learned P. G.’s and a member of the faculty as though they were presuming freshies and she a senior is something I shall not attempt to puzzle out. Where to this afternoon, children? How about straight north on Hamilton Highway with an evening stop for dinner at Orchard Inn?”

A chorus of “Fine”; “Bully”; “Ducky” and “Right-o,” rose in answer to her solicitous inquiries.

“Oh, dear; I wish I didn’t have to go home Wednesday,” came rather disconsolately from Marjorie. “I’m anxious to see Captain and General; as anxious as can be. But the work here is so fascinating!”

“I don’t admire your choice of subject, either,” Vera declared critically.

“All right. Miss Midget Mason. I’ll try not to mention it again,” Marjorie obligingly promised. “You seem to be another sensitive soul; something like Celtic Leila.”

“Oh, I am,” Vera assured, then out rippled her merry little laugh. “Vera’s Own Variety,” Marjorie had playfully named it.

“I’m overdue at home now. Can’t help it if the subject is painful to you, Midget. I have to say that much.”

“Marjorie has a date with her superior officers. Robin’s overdue in Virginia. Two plus two make four. And the moral of that little sum, my dears, is: What’s the use in teasing ’em to stay?” propounded Kathie.

“What, indeed? Since Robin must go and Kathie must stay what is to become of Midget and me?” Leila’s attempt at looking forlorn was short-lived. She could not keep a sober face.

“Now what do you know that I don’t?” Marjorie demanded. Leila’s smiles were directed to her.

“Listen to the witch woman, Leila.” The Irish girl reached for one of Marjorie’s hands and peered at the pink outspread palm. “You are going on a journey – ”

“Of course I am. I know that. Tell me something I don’t – ”

“Treat the seeress with more respect. You are going on a long journey in a car. Might it not be a roadster? You – ”

“Oh, see here. I can tell my own fortune as well as that,” objected Marjorie.

“Not yet. Now be more civil. I am no ordinary person,” Leila rebuked. “On this journey you will be in the company of a small, fair woman. She is considered a good driver. Ha! I see also a tall, dark woman. She is Irish, and sits beside you in the tonneau. The journey is long, but – ”

“You said that before,” Kathie put in mischievously.

“Now did I?” Leila beamed more broadly.

“Never mind the rest of that fortune. I need my hand.” Marjorie caught Leila around the waist and hugged her with vigor.

They had reached the garage now and were standing near the doorway waiting for Vera and the roadster.

“You and Vera are going to Sanford with me, you darling!” was the delighted lieutenant’s cry. “It will be the greatest lark imaginable – to go home in the roadster. How I wish Robin and Kathie could go, too.”

“Sorry,” Kathie’s one word of regret spoke volumes.

“So am I,” echoed Robin. “I’m going home with Marjorie at Christmas if I can. I know you girls will have a gorgeous time.”

As the five took places in the car they talked of the trip Leila had planned to Sanford and of the engagements they had made previous to Wednesday. On Monday evening Miss Remson and the five post graduates were to be entertained at dinner by President and Mrs. Matthews. Tuesday afternoon and evening were to be spent at Hamilton Arms. What with luncheon at Baretti’s on Monday at one o’clock and luncheon the next day at the Lotus their time was well filled.