CHAPTER IV

BACK TO THE JOLLY SIX

Ann did not think best to trouble her mother with any of the gossip with which she had been afflicted through Mrs. Lewis. What was the use? Through Suzanne, however, Grandmother heard that Ann had been engaged in a long conversation with the lady, and she spoke of it the next morning, as she was taking her outing among the flowers. Ann had joined her and under her direction was picking some of her grandmother’s favorites.

“Suzanne tells me that our friend Mrs. Lewis was entertaining you, or demanding entertainment of you, yesterday.”

“Yes, Grandmother. Isn’t she an awful woman?”

“Did you wonder that I quoted what I did in description?”

“No. Her tongue is poisonous all right. But it was such a surprise. She was so pleasant, indeed, all the way through, you would have thought that she was telling pleasant things. Do you suppose that she meant to be----.” Ann paused for a fitting word.

“Malicious?” Grandmother supplied.

“That is the word. Thank you.”

“I do not suppose so. I scarcely know. But her conversation always consists in comments upon other people. She has no other subject, and unfortunately she likes best the unhappy phases, something to make people exclaim. But do not let anything she may have said trouble you, Ann. Whatever of criticism or innuendo she may have given you,--let it go. She ought to be a warning to us all,--to let the doings of our neighbors alone.”

“That is so, Grandmother. We have enough to do, I guess, to look after ourselves.”

“We surely have. How would you like, Ann, to go to Florida with us?”

“O Grandmother!” Ann stopped plucking a posy and straightened up to look at Madam LeRoy with shining eyes. “Could I--without hurting anything?”

Madam LeRoy laughed. “You mean school, I presume?”

“Yes, of course, Grandmother!”

“I think that it could be managed, not to have you fall behind in your studies.”

“Study a little there, you mean?”

“Just that. Will you be thinking happy thoughts about it, Ann?” Grandmother was looking at her with eyes that were half sad, half amused. Such a combination is possible.

“_Won’t_ I?” asked Ann. “I’ll want to think about it so much that I won’t want to study.”

“I’ll risk you on that,” said Grandmother. “Don’t forget that I have never had reason to be anything but proud of you. Please keep up the record, child.”

“I will try, Grandmother,” said Ann with earnestness. “You are so good to me!”

* * * * *

Ah, it was not the freshman cottage, or hall, any more! When Ann, Suzanne and Madeline, with several more girls whom they had met on the train, arrived within the Forest Hill grounds, they saw many improvements added during the summer. Greetings from youth to youth, taxis full of jolly old girls and subdued new ones, trucks of trunks and bags and boxes,--all the usual sights of a girls’ school in the throes of opening were to be seen. Busy teachers, a small host of assistants in different lines, janitors and assistant janitors, truck-men, grocery wagons and express wagons, bringing supplies, contributed to the general air of enterprise.

There was not a sign of any one among Ann’s particular friends of the Jolly Six at the administration building, where Ann’s party went first. The girls had left their names and application for admittance to the new sophomore cottage, which was to add to the provisions for the sophomore girls. The school was growing and Ann’s class was one of the largest freshman classes they had had.

“Wouldn’t it be awful if there is any mistake and we don’t get our rooms?” asked Madeline, suddenly taking a panic.

“Don’t worry, Maddy,” said Suzanne. “They won’t turn us out. For some reason or other, I’m not so particular this year, though I would like to get in the new cottage. The old girls had the first chance if they wanted it; but some of them wanted to go in the old one anyhow, because of ‘tradition’ they said.”

“Tradition doesn’t appeal to me,” Madeline announced, “though there is something in those high and airy halls, and the rooms with high ceilings. But they are hard to heat in the winter, Mother says. She wants me to be in the new building.”

“Let me see, young ladies,” said the teacher who was helping assign girls to their rooms. There was a crowd in the office, girls waiting their turn, for different purposes. The list was consulted. “Miss Tyson and Miss Birch go to the new cottage, suite number 29, with Miss Frost and Miss Simpson, I think.” There seemed to be some difficulty in making out the names right there. Something had been written in.

“Miss Sterling goes to the Castle, with Miss Ward, Miss Frost and Miss Robson,--some mistake there, Miss Frost’s name in both places. Well, I suppose that it does not matter. She came several days ago and has doubtless found her place.”

“So you won’t even be in the building with us, Ann,” said Suzanne, quite regretful this time. A year ago she would have been relieved and delighted.

“I’d just as lief be in the other building but for that, Suzanne,” said Ann. “But if we go to Florida at Christmas time, it will not make much difference.”

“Oh, are you going to Florida, Suzanne?” cried Madeline. “Why haven’t I heard a word about it?”

“I guess I didn’t think of it when I was with you, Maddy. Besides they were only talking of it. Ann says that Grandmother spoke to her, though, as if it were all settled.”

“I must ask Mother if I can’t go, too,” said Madeline, “but I know that they have other plans.”

If Madeline hoped to be invited to go with the LeRoy-Tyson-Sterling party, she was disappointed. Neither of the girls felt free to give the invitation, for one thing, and Suzanne had been thinking for some time that Madeline was very cool and exacting at times.

“It will be fine if your people can go,” said kind Ann. “Have you ever been there?”

“Oh, yes,” said Madeline, with a toss of her head. “Mother used to go to Palm Beach every winter.”

* * * * *

As Ann rapidly rounded the administration building to reach the walk which led to the “Castle,” she almost ran into Marta Ward, who greeted her with enthusiasm. “Why it’s Ann!” she exclaimed. “When did you get in?” The girls embraced and Ann explained that she had only just arrived and had been directed to the Castle.

“Yes,” cried Marta, “are you disappointed that you did not get into the new cottage? We were next on the list, I think, but the girls who have been here longer got the first chance and then Madeline and Suzanne were to be with Genevieve, and--say, Ann, whom do you think we have in our suite, for they have put four of us together?”

“I could make a good guess, I think, Marta, from somebody’s name that was down in two places. But I am astonished, just the same.”

“Yes, it’s Frostie herself,” laughed Marta. “Will wonders never cease!”

“Honestly? How did it happen?”

“I don’t know exactly, but Aline says that Eleanor and Genevieve had a serious quarrel or misunderstanding or something, and besides, Eleanor can’t endure Madeline. So it seems that when she found out how things had been arranged, without consulting her, she claims, she went up in the air and went to Miss Tudor; and finally, Miss Tudor arranged for us to be together. She thinks a great deal of you and Aline, and I am a necessary evil, I guess.”

“Not much. Eleanor need not get snippy, or I’ll do some going up in the air,” Ann laughed.

“Really, Ann, Eleanor is just as nice as she can be about things. If I had not known that bunch of girls last year, I would not suppose that Eleanor belonged.”

“What in the world will Suzanne and Madeline think about it?” queried Ann, a little worried. “They just went over there. I wonder who is in Eleanor’s place.”

“I haven’t the least idea. You know that the Sig-Eps wanted to have a cottage of their own and took steps about it, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Well, they did; and they wanted this new cottage. But Miss Tudor told them that if they wanted a cottage, perhaps they could get some of their alumnae to help them build one. Otherwise, the school would continue to be divided according to ‘age and status of scholarship or rank!’ This new hall is too large for a sorority hall any way. The girls said that afterwards, and also said that they would want a chapel or small auditorium for their meetings and entertainments.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea for the ‘Bats,’ would it?”

“No; let’s start working for it. It would be a good way for the school to get new dorms, and the girls would love their houses.”

“The only objection I can see is that it makes things still more clannish, and they are too much so already. We’d better talk it over with Miss Tudor before we do anything.”

“But she really suggested it.”

“That is so; but perhaps it was on an impulse. Even teachers are known to do that occasionally, and change their minds afterwards.”

“I will go back with you,” said Marta, laughing over Ann’s last remark. “Both the other girls are there, and the rest of the Jolly Six have their suite there, too, a few doors away. We’ll have to take in Eleanor and Aline and make it the Jolly Eight.”

“You don’t imagine that Eleanor would ever be intimate with our crowd, do you?”

“Stranger things have happened. How can she resist us, tell me that?”

“Of course, I had not thought of how irresistible we are! Have a chocolate, Marta. Maurice gave Suzanne and me each a box when we started. Madeline was disappointed that she was not remembered, too, but Maury did not come to the station. His train, in fact, left before ours. How did you like Maurice, Marta?”

“He has the making of a fine man,--if he is not spoiled. His gay temperament is very taking, but I imagine that it is a source of danger, too.”

“You talk like an old lady, Marta,” laughed Ann, who had been guilty of similar thoughts, however, in regard to her cousin.

“I thought about him,” said Marta simply. “He watched you so much and I got to thinking.”

“It is not wise to think too much, fair room-mate; and by the way, I may run off at Christmas time for quite a stay.”

“How is that?”

“Grandmother plans to have me and Suzanne--Suzanne and me, I mean,--go to Florida with them. I don’t know how long I shall be gone, but I’ll do some studying there, Mother thinks.”

“It will be fine for you, though I shall certainly miss you.”

“I hate to go, with you not along, but I couldn’t miss it.”

“I should think not!”

“When did you get in, Marta?”

“Only yesterday evening. I have been unpacking. I gave Aline and Eleanor the choice of rooms; was that all right?”

“Certainly it was. You mean of the bedrooms, I suppose.”

“Yes. There wasn’t much choice, but I suggested that since both were there, they select the one they preferred. Both the girls were very pleasant about it and demurred a little, but selected their room and went ahead. You will find us pretty well fixed up, Miss Sterling!”

“Good. Let’s stop first and see Katherine and Dots and the others. My luggage hasn’t been sent up yet, has it?”

“No.”

Warm welcome waited at the Katherine-Dots-Ethel-Lucile headquarters. “Oh, is it _Ann_!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Come right in and see our studio,--latest effects in tapestry, water colors and oils.”

Ann saw nothing but new curtains and Lucile’s paints, but expressed her admiration and returned the embraces of her chums. “Last time I saw you girls we were in the ‘Western Wilds,’” she said.

“Yes, and what a grand time we had!” Katherine exclaimed. “Say, Ann, I heard from Beano Bates,--what do you think of that!”

“And I have had a letter from your faithful Edgar. Quick, girls, get me a fan,” Lucile added, as Ann pretended to be overcome.

“Little did I think,” said Ann, “when I urged you girls to come out to Montana, what an effect you would have upon our men!”

“Seriously, Ann, Edgar wrote a bright, interesting letter. I’ll let you read it.” Lucile laughed again at Ann’s lugubrious aspect, which she threw off at once, however, forgetting the pose in the things that the rest had to relate. Lucile Early and Ethel Johns had been at their homes in New York, enjoying their native city and incidentally shopping for school. Dorothy Horton, in Maine, had visited a girls’ camp for a week, before her mother returned from her trip. Katherine Neville, in Ohio, had spent the time, she said, in “domestic pursuits,” cooking for the family and trying to reproduce some of Rita’s fine concoctions. “Mother ran off for a little rest,” she said.

“You have a new family, or, rather are a new family in your suite, I hear,” said Dots. “Are you surprised, Ann?”

“Very much so, but it is all right. Marta and I are used to being by ourselves, but we can get along and it will be fun to have more in the family. We used to envy you girls last year, didn’t we, Marta?”

“We can call our suite a studio, too,” Marta added, “a musical one, for Eleanor sings, Aline plays the violin, and our accomplishments you well know!”

“Sure enough,” laughed Katherine. “Well, let the musical studio join ours tonight and have a good old fudge or something reunion. Ask Eleanor and Aline, won’t you, for us? If they have any doings planned with the Sig-Eps, all right.”

“Thanks,--we’ll come. You won’t have to make fudge. I’ll bring my chocolates.” But at this the girls laughed, for the box, passed around several times, was much depleted, and Ann waved it away, when Katherine held it out to her. “Put it somewhere till the appointed hour, then. I’ll not want it. Now to join the family.”

Ann gathered up her wraps and umbrella and took her departure, Marta leading the way. Before opening the door, however, Marta turned and gave Ann a whimsical look, as if to say,--“it’s a risk, but here we are.”

No one was in the little sitting room, which looked cosy with bright cushions, pennants and pictures already in place; but Eleanor looked out from the other bedroom, as Ann went into hers. “Is that Ann?” she asked. Ann placed her things in the inner room and went out to meet Eleanor, and in a moment, Aline. “Glad to see you,” said Eleanor. “I imagine that you are surprised to see us in your family. But it is a fine old suite and I think it lucky for us to get it. It is larger than most of them, and I like being on the second floor.”

Ann, still holding Eleanor’s hand, for Eleanor had taken hold of her arm, looked around at the large windows, the comfortable couch, the window seat with drawers below, to which Eleanor pointed, and expressed her enthusiasm. “Sit down,” said Eleanor, still the hostess. “I suppose Marta told you how this happened?”

“As much as I knew about it,” said Marta, stretching out on the couch.

“Yes. I couldn’t say much, could I?”

“Not if you were wise,” laughed Marta.

“Well, I had a good reason for not rooming with Genevieve anyhow, and the whole arrangement was made before I knew much about it. I was to blame a little; for it was suggested to me last spring and I didn’t say nay exactly, too lazy to have the trouble of refusing. Then with my accustomed habit of putting everything off, I did not even write about it this summer; only Mother wrote, asking Miss Tudor to do as well by me as she could, it seems, and did not ask for a new room-mate, as I wanted her to. _She_ didn’t want to get into trouble either. Then we both forgot about it. We had a lovely trip to Alaska this summer,--neither of us had ever been there. So it went. My real trouble with Genevieve was about another matter, and of course I’d rather not speak of that.”

“Of course not,” said Ann, “and I’m sure you need not have explained anyway. As you say, we are lucky to have this suite, and if we can get through the rushing season without coming to blows over the Sig-Eps and the Bats, I have no doubt but we can be the best of friends.” So, laughingly said Ann; and Marta cried, “Hear, hear!”

“One thing that will be of great advantage to me,” smiled Eleanor, “is having all my accompanists in the suite. You can’t get away from me, girls. Promise me, both of you, that if one is sick the other will play,--and poor Aline will have to do it all the time. I adore violin accompaniments, and it will be good practice for her in public appearances!”

“If I were only a contralto singer,” said Marta, “you would have a world-renowned quartet. Too bad that you have two pianists!”

“Suits me,” laughed Eleanor. “I’ll never have to worry.”

“It will be easy to arrange practice hours, too,” said Ann. “Dear me, no practice to speak of all summer, but oh, such a glorious time!”