Chapter 15

A HARVARD TEA

Stillness reigned in the study hall: stillness save for the occasional rattle of a book, or the falling of a pen or pencil from careless fingers. The large clock at the back of the room ticked regularly, and its hands pointed to a quarter past one.

At the desk Fraulein Herrmann sat, her watchful eyes roaming over the assemblage in search of idleness or disorder. Only a moment before her stentorian tones had rung forth, much to the annoyance of two girls who came under her supervision.

"Emma-_line_ and Jassa-_mine_ Brown may report at the desk at the end of the period."

Emmalyn and Jassamine Brown, twins, were as much the bane of Fraulein's life as were Mary Boyd and Peggy Austin. Fraulein was not stupid. She had learned that to call forth these names, distorting them with almost unrecognizable inflection, brought its own punishment.

Emmalyn slammed down a book on her desk, her face flushed with mortification. She whispered something to her sister.

"You may say what you have to say to the room, Miss Emma-_line_," Fraulein invited.

Emmalyn paid not the slightest heed.

"Miss Brown! Answer when I speak! Why do you not answer?"

"I didn't know you were addressing me. My name is not Emma-_line_!" She drew out the "line" with provoking mimicry.

Fraulein reddened; but she held her peace. She had encountered Emmalyn Brown before. Sometimes disastrously.

At her desk Blue Bonnet worked busily, glancing often at the clock. She was writing a theme, and writing against time. At one-forty-five her paper must be in Professor Howe's hands. There was a strained expression in her eyes as, elbow on desk, she ran her fingers through her hair by way of inducement to thought.

"It's no use," she said in a whisper to Wee Watts, who occupied a seat with her, "I can't get my brain in working order to-day to save me. Have you a glimmer of an idea about Emerson's essay on 'Compensation?' I've got to write it up."

Wee's face looked as blank as a stone wall.

"Emerson! Heavens, no! He's as deep as the sea. Ask me something easy, Blue Bonnet. My grey matter's at your disposal--what's left of it. I think I've overtaxed it with my own theme. Do you know anything about hypnotism?"

"Hypnotism! I should say not. Look out! Fraulein's weather eye is turned this way.

"I think it's the tea we're going to this afternoon that's distracting me," Blue Bonnet confessed, when Fraulein had removed the weather eye. "I can't seem to get it out of my mind. I know we're going to have a perfectly wonderful time. I wish you were going, Wee."

"Yes--it would be lovely. I suppose Annabel has borrowed everything in sight. I've given her my Egyptian bracelet and my jade ring. Don't let her have your furs to-day. You look so pretty in them yourself."

"Oh, she doesn't want them," Blue Bonnet answered loyally. "I think she's going to get Angela's. They are white fox--almost like mine. Oh, bother! What on earth is 'compensation,' anyway? I've read this essay ten times and it's perfect Greek to me. Don't you know, Wee, really? This thing has got to be handed in in twenty minutes."

Wee searched through her desk for a dictionary.

"Look it up," she suggested, turning to the C's. "Sometimes you can get a start that way."

Blue Bonnet gathered up dictionary and papers and moved to a vacant seat.

"Thank you so much, Wee," she whispered in passing, "I've got to sit alone where I can think. You're _nice_, but you're _too_ entertaining."

Again she plunged into her subject and for a few minutes worked diligently. A white scrap of paper rolled in a ball falling at her feet distracted her attention. She dropped her handkerchief over it in obedience to a slight cough from Sue Hemphill, and drew it into her lap. A second later it lay open in her book.

"Annabel's changed her mind," it read. "She's not going to wear her suit. She thinks she'll wear her new crepe de chine and borrow Patty's fur coat. Don't you think that will make us look out of place in just waists and suits? Answer."

Blue Bonnet crumpled the note in her hand and looked at the clock anxiously. She didn't give a rap what Annabel wore. It was half past one, and she had but three paragraphs written on her theme. She read them through again. They were utterly impossible. She tore the paper into bits and carried the pieces to the waste basket.

Going back to the seat with Wee Watts she put her books in order and awaited the ringing of the gong which signaled the beginning of the next period.

It was unfortunate--for Blue Bonnet at least--that something had happened to disturb Professor Howe's usual calmness of manner. She was irritated. Blue Bonnet felt it in the atmosphere the moment she entered the recitation-room.

"We will begin with Miss Ashe," she said, busying herself with some papers on her desk. "You may read what you have prepared on the Emerson work, Miss Ashe. Come to the front of the room, please."

Blue Bonnet half rose in her seat and her face flushed scarlet.

"I am not prepared, Professor Howe. I am sorry--but--"

"Have you been ill, Miss Ashe?"

"No, not ill, but--"

"Take your seat and remain after the class is dismissed, Miss Ashe."

"This afternoon, Professor Howe? Oh, I can't to-day. It is impossible--"

Professor Howe made no reply and passed on to the next pupil.

Blue Bonnet did some quick thinking during the next few minutes. How she was to write a theme and get ready to go to Cambridge by three o'clock, was beyond her ability to calculate. Professor Howe would surely excuse her when she explained; explained that she had tried to write the theme and failed--she felt sure of that. But Professor Howe for once was adamant. No explanation sufficed; no amount of pleading prevailed. Blue Bonnet remained after class and, cross and late, reached her room just as Sue and Annabel were leaving theirs, well groomed and immaculate.

"I reckon you'll have to go on without me," she said, her eyes filling with tears of vexation and disappointment. "Professor Howe's on a regular rampage to-day. She's kept me all this time over an old composition on Emerson. She's made me loathe Emerson for all time. I shall perfectly hate him from this hour forth. Go on, don't wait! I won't spoil everything for the rest of you."

"Nonsense," Annabel said, pushing Blue Bonnet into her room and taking out her clothes from the closet. "Just hurry a little. The boys aren't here yet. It won't hurt them to wait a few minutes anyway. It's no killing matter. Wash in a little cold water; it'll freshen you."

Blue Bonnet emerged presently from the bathroom, rosy and happy, gave her hair a vigorous brushing, and got into the becoming silk waist that Sue held ready for her.

"Thought you were going to wear your crepe de chine, Annabel. Sue said you were. Did you change your mind?"

"Yes, Sue made such a fuss; said you girls were going to wear your suits. I suppose it is more sensible. Here are your gloves. Lucky they're clean! Got a handkerchief? Come on."

Three more attractive girls it would be hard to find than Annabel, Sue and Blue Bonnet, as they made their way to the reception-room, where the boys were waiting.

Billy presented Sue's escort. A rather fine-looking young fellow by the name of Billings--Ben Billings. "An awfully common name," Sue sniffed to Blue Bonnet at her first opportunity. "Never could abide the name of 'Ben.'"

"Oh, I don't know, Sue," Blue Bonnet replied, "it's probably short for Benjamin. Benjamin Billings isn't so bad. I think it's quite high sounding."

But Benjamin Billings proved to have assets, if he did have a common name. It transpired that he lived in Boston, was a member of a well-known family. In fact the very elegant looking limousine which waited at the curb proved to be his property--or his mother's--and the party went forth in it, gaily.

The ride to Cambridge was delightful. The car just crowded enough to make every one merry and responsive. Blue Bonnet sat squeezed securely between Mrs. White and Billy Hemphill.

Arriving at the college, Billy, who seemed to be the master of ceremonies, went a little ahead of the party, and throwing open the door of his room hospitably ushered the guests in.

"This way," he said, leading them through the sitting-room to the bedroom beyond. "You'll want to take off your wraps."

A trim maid in a neat cap stood waiting to assist the girls with coats and rubbers.

"They're doing it up brown," Sue whispered as Billy left the room. "They've engaged this maid along with the caterer. Just wait! I do hope they haven't forgotten that heavenly ice-cream like they had before. The kind with the nuts! Oh, girls; look! Isn't that perfectly killing?"

Sue pointed to a vase of flowers on Billy's dresser. They were exquisite pale yellow roses, about which were tied--as stiffly and properly as Billy would have tied his own necktie--two shades of ribbon, green and white, the colors of the North school.

"Well, it's perfectly dear of him, anyway," Sue said, as the girls shook with laughter. "Of course the bows _are_ funny, but the boys have done the best they knew how, and it's a pretty compliment, _I_ think."

A pretty compliment it was, elaborated upon in the sitting-room. Vases stood in every available corner and space, and the same bows ornamented each bouquet. The girls were eloquent in praise of them.

"Why didn't you try a four-in-hand on this one, Billy?" Sue asked, pointing to a carefully arranged effect of the "string-tie" variety. "Or a--what you call it--an Ascot! An Ascot would be stunning on those orchids."

A laugh went round the room in which Billy joined good naturedly.

"See what you fellows escape by not having a sister," he said, nodding toward McVickar and Billings. His tone was severe, but the loving look that shot from his eyes to the dimpled face close to his own belied the words. Any fellow would have been proud to have had such a sister. Billy appreciated the fact.

"Anyway, I didn't tie the bows," he added. "McVickar did it. 'Fess up, old man. He's been at it all day--sluffed his classes to tie the bunch."

It was Sue's turn to become embarrassed.

"Really?" she said. "Well, they're perfectly lovely--and the idea's so new. I've never seen it used before. I think you should be congratulated, Mr. McVickar. It's a gift to be able to originate!"

Even Billy regarded Sue with admiration, but a knock at the door prevented further discussion.

"Pardon me," Billy said to Mrs. White on the way to open the door. "Surprising how many interruptions a fellow has in a place like this."

On the threshold stood a young man, groomed within an inch of his life; hair faultless; shoes immaculate; tie and scarf pin elaborate.

"Oh, a thousand pardons, Hemphill. Didn't dream you were entertaining. Just looking for a book--Calculus. Haven't seen it knocking about, have you? Fancied I left it here last night. No--No! Couldn't think of stopping. Oh, if you feel that way, old chap--"

Billy, by this time, had got the intruder inside the room and was presenting him to the guests. Mr. Williams looked about with apparent embarrassment and took a seat by Blue Bonnet.

"Fear I'm intruding. Awful bore--fellows running in like this. Didn't dream Hemphill was entertaining. From Boston, I presume, Miss--beg pardon, didn't quite catch the name."

"Ashe," Blue Bonnet said, casting a rather amused glance at the young man's elaborate afternoon toilet.

"Miss Ashe. Not the Ashes of Beacon Street? They're relatives of mine--distant, of course."

"No. I'm from Texas."

"Texas! You're rather a long way from home, aren't you? Texas seems farther away to me than Paris. Great country that--Texas. Lots of cattle and Indians and--"

"I don't know about Indians. We have cattle--lots! And cowboys. Maybe you're thinking of cowboys?"

But cowboys were farthest from Mr. Williams' mind. Translated his thoughts ran something like this: "Mighty pretty girl, blooming as a rose. Wonder how many of us the chaperon's going to stand for. Plague take it, why didn't Stuart give me a show--needn't have tread on my heels this way."

But Stuart, at the door, stopping only a half moment for a lost overcoat--so he said--was being presented to the ladies. And in Stuart's wake came others. It was amazing how many things had been lost oh the campus; or in Billy Hemphill and Hammie McVickar's rooms.

Mrs. White began to feel nervous. She was in a quandary. She could hardly take her charges away before tea, neither could she ask the young men to leave. She finally decided to settle down comfortably and close her eyes to any irregularities. After all there could be no real harm.

With the utmost cordiality Billy and his room-mate insisted upon their friends remaining to tea, and the men needed but little urging. They made themselves generally agreeable, assisting in the entertaining; passing tea and sandwiches with ease and aplomb.

Mr. Williams kept the seat next to Blue Bonnet and Hammie McVickar dropped down on the other side of her.

"First visit here?" Mr. Williams asked, trying to successfully balance his ice-cream and cake on one knee.

"Yes--that is, it's the first time I've been inside one of the buildings. I came to a ball game last autumn."

"Then you must have a look round before you go."

Blue Bonnet assured him of her willingness if Mrs. White and the others were agreeable.

"You have pleasant quarters here," she said, turning to Mr. McVickar. "If you were at Oxford you would call this room the 'sitter' and that the 'bedder,'" nodding toward the room where they had laid aside their coats.

"Yes--those are the Oxford terms. Know anybody there?"

"Just one man. I've only met him. He's a friend of a friend of mine. He told me about some of the customs. They interested me very much."

Over in her corner, between young Billings and the interloper, Stuart, Sue was having a beautiful time. She had felt free, since it was Billy's party--hence Billy's ice-cream--to permit herself a second helping. Sue was in her element. Billy and her favorite ice-cream--all in one day! It was almost too much.

Annabel, as usual, was the centre of attraction. She was surrounded by a number of "searchers for lost articles," and Blue Bonnet, as she glanced in her direction, could imagine how the men were enjoying her pretty Southern drawl, her always witty remarks. Billy, with great self-sacrifice, devoted himself to Mrs. White, but his glance strayed often to Annabel. Mrs. White must have noticed the anxious glances, for she got up after she had finished her tea and insisted upon talking to Mr. McVickar for a while.

The hour sped all too soon. Before the girls realized it, they had seen the interesting sights of the campus; the big dining-room in Memorial Hall, where twelve hundred students assembled daily; Sanders Theatre and the Fogg Art Museum.

"I'd love to come in here when the men were dining," Annabel remarked, gazing from the balcony down upon the dining-hall.

A quick glance passed between the men. They smiled in unison.

"What's the joke?" Annabel insisted.

"You'd have to come here at mealtime to find out," Billy informed her. "You see, we are a little averse to an audience, and the fellows act up considerably."

"What do they do?"

"Well," Hammie McVickar explained, "when any one enters this balcony every man down there begins pounding with his knife and fork, or anything that's handy, and raising such a din, that guests usually depart--quickly."

"I think that's very rude," Blue Bonnet said, and the men agreed with her politely.

"Wasn't it just like Billy to pick out the biggest bouquet for Mrs. White?" Sue whispered to Annabel, as they were finally leaving the campus. "She adores American beauties, too. Don't you really think he's a dear?"

"He's a diplomat, to say the least," Annabel replied, laughing. "And a charming host," she added, to palliate Sue's evident disappointment. "Perfectly charming."

"I'm so glad you think so, Annabel, and--do you know--I've a feeling that he likes you awfully, dear. Not from anything he says--but--well, just the way he looks at you sometimes!"

"How absurd, Sue!" Annabel replied, as she hurried to catch up with the rest of the party; but her eyes sparkled and a beautiful flush crimsoned her lovely face.

After the lights were out that night, Blue Bonnet, with utter disregard of rules, slipped into Annabel's room to talk things over. It was an excellent opportunity, as Ruth had left in the afternoon for a week-end at home.

Sue had already arrived and was comfortably ensconced on the couch in bath-robe and slippers.

"Good!" she cried, drawing Blue Bonnet down beside her while Annabel stirred the fire. "Now, we'll have a regular old-fashioned gossip." The fire, after some coaxing, broke into a ruddy glow, and Annabel, dropping before it on the rug, took down her hair and began brushing it systematically. Annabel never, under any circumstances, neglected her hair. It was one of her chief attractions, and its soft, glossy texture testified to this regular treatment.

"My, but you're enterprising," Blue Bonnet said, as Annabel brushed diligently, counting each stroke. "I couldn't brush my hair that way every night if my life depended upon it. Don't you ever feel too tired to do it?"

"Oh, yes--sometimes; but it doesn't pay to neglect it. Wasn't it glorious over at the college to-day? Didn't you just adore it?"

"Loved it!" Blue Bonnet said rapturously, while Sue clasped her arms about her knees and gazed into the fire dreamily. "I think it was perfectly dear of Sue's brother to have us; and weren't those nice men who drifted in? Do you think any of them had really lost anything?"

Annabel laughed.

"I told them that they ought to form a St. Anthony society. There's strength in union."

"Who's St. Anthony?"

"He's the saint that some people pray to when they've lost things. He helps find them."

"Annabel--that's sacrilegious!"

"I didn't mean it to be. The boys didn't take it that way, I'm sure."

"That Billings person was quite nice after all, wasn't he?" Sue wakened from her dream long enough to remark. "I rather liked him. He's awfully devoted to Billy. It was quite touching the way he talked about him."

Blue Bonnet and Annabel laughed outright.

Sue was indignant.

"I don't see anything to laugh at. What's the matter with him?"

"Nothing. I think he's fine," Annabel answered. "And so clever! Just think of any one being discerning enough to find the way into Sue's good graces by the Billy route!"

Sue got up and drawing her bath-robe closer about her started for the door.

"I think I'll say good night," she said. "I have a Latin exam to-morrow and I've set my alarm for five-thirty."

But Annabel, intercepting, drew her to the hearth-rug and began humble apologies.

"Don't be silly, there's an old dear. I was only teasing--you know that. You're not going for an hour yet. Come to think of it, you'll not go at all; you'll sleep in Ruth's bed. We've loads to discuss, loads! We haven't mentioned Hammie McVickar or that Mr. what's his name--Stuart, wasn't it? or the refreshments. Come to think of it, Blue Bonnet's going to stay, too. We'll roll the couch over here by the fire and give her my down comfort--or my bed, if she prefers it."

An invitation that was accepted after some protest by both.

"But I've simply got to get up early, Annabel," Sue insisted. "I don't want to wake you and Blue Bonnet."

"I'm rising with the dawn myself, thank you, my dear," and in a whisper Annabel sang:

"'There's going to be There's going to be There's going to be A Physics test. The girls will shiver round the hall, Waiting for the bell to call Them to the test. And the greasy grinds will murmur:

"'Every little molecule has a magnet all its own, Every little North Pole by its action may be known, And every feeling That comes stealing 'Round its being, Must be revealing Magnetic force lines, In some appealing Little action All its own.'"

"And you won't be disturbing me in the least, Sue," Blue Bonnet said, "for I'm with you both. I want to have a little 'heart-to-heart' session with Mr. Emerson in the morning on his compensation article. I believe that I can do it justice now that the tea is over."

"But I must get my clock, Annabel. If it should go off at daylight, and Wee found me missing, there'd be trouble."

"All right, trot along, Sue; but come back instantly."

Is it necessary to add that, after talking until the wee small hours of morning, daylight found three girls peacefully slumbering, utterly oblivious to the faithful alarm which trilled forth its summons to unheeding ears?

It was Blue Bonnet who first opened her eyes to the broad sunlight, and sat up with a start. It took her a full minute to get her bearings: then she rushed to Annabel's bed and shook that young person roundly.

"Annabel! Annabel! Sue! For goodness' sake, get up! It's seven-thirty this minute. I hear the girls now, going to breakfast. How am I ever to get into my own room for my clothes? Oh, I never should have stayed here last night--I knew that I shouldn't all the time."

But Sue, sitting up in Ruth's bed, rubbed her eyes vigorously and poured oil on the troubled waters.

"Don't get so excited, Blue Bonnet. It's no killing matter to be late to breakfast. You'll only get a mark in the 'Doomsday Book;' and thank your lucky stars the girls _are_ going down to breakfast. When they're all gone you can slip out easily."

"Yes--but oh, my Emerson!"

"Emerson isn't a patching to a Latin exam!"

"And the two couldn't match up with a Physics test!" Annabel groaned, putting on her clothes with eager haste. "I have a vision of the mark I'll get!"

She went to the door and took a sweeping glance down the hall.

"Coast's clear," she announced. "Shoo--both of you."