  “Three letters. That’s not so bad.” Marjorie triumphantly waved the trio of coveted envelopes about her head as she entered her room from a long interesting bout with chemistry. “I’m tired enough to enjoy my mail. Vera and I have been experimenting with a compound this whole afternoon. It should have come out black and it didn’t—it came out a beautiful shade of green.” Marjorie threw herself into a chair, laughing, and began picking open an envelope. “The way of all great experimenters is hard,” comforted Jerry. “Where’s my mail? I didn’t hear you say a word about it.” “Sorry to tell you, but there was none for you, Jeremiah.” “Your voice sounds sorrowful,” Jerry returned with sarcasm. “Have some candy. I try always to be kind to those who are kind to me.” “I’ve heard you say so before.” Marjorie was now spreading open the contents of the envelope she had torn across. She glanced at the letter. “Why-eee!” she exclaimed in a strained, unbelieving voice. She went on with a hurried perusal of the letter, then backed into a chair. “Listen to this, Jerry,” she cried out in hurt tones: “My Dear Miss Dean: “While it is hard for me to put into words that which I have been asked to tell you I will try to do so as courteously as is possible in the circumstances. I have been chosen by the sophomore class with the exception of a few sophomores, to point out to you that your interference in class matters has created very bad feeling among the sophomores who believe themselves capable of adjusting any differences which may have arisen in the class. “It is unfortunate that a post graduate of Hamilton College should be guilty of deliberate favoritism. You showed favoritism to Miss Forbes before and have done so since the sophomore election. Miss Forbes received the nomination for the presidency as a result of your “boosting.” Many of the sophomores who voted for her because of a high, but misplaced respect for you, now know their mistake. Miss Forbes deserved the censure she received at the election. The manner in which you and other post-graduates babied her afterward I now venture to criticize. “The sophomore class are of an almost united opinion that they may be trusted to carry on their business wisely and with justice to all. I am confident that, released from any responsibility you may have taken upon yourself regarding them, you will have more time to pursue your own important affairs. “Sincerely, “Louise May Walker.” “Don’t let a little thing like that bother you,” Jerry’s eyes shone with sympathy in spite of her sturdily careless tone. “A girl who would write such a letter isn’t worth minding. Don’t let it mislead you. The sophs’ united opinion is probably about ten or twelve strong, and not more. Keep right on going, Bean. You shouldn’t worry.” Jerry’s cheerful smile broke broadly out like the sun from behind a cloud. Marjorie, looking up from a second reading of the letter, returned the smile ruefully. “I care,” she said reflectively, “and I don’t care. I thought I was awfully hurt, but I’m up and on my feet now, brushing off the dust. I wouldn’t have done things differently about Gussie. I suppose favoritism means helping get up the parade and Ronny’s dinner to Gus at Baretti’s. We would have helped the other soph faction with a parade just as quickly if they had come to us. I think I’ll go on with my letters.” Marjorie tore open the second envelope with decision. A glance at its contends and she exclaimed in righteous indignation: “Why, the idea! This is too ridiculous for words!” She read aloud rapidly: “Dear Miss Dean: “We understand that Professor Leonard has asked you to serve again on the senior sports committee. Do you not agree with us that it would be more becoming in you to give place to a member of the senior class. We have been informed that such a decision on your part would be welcomed by the other members of the committee. “Yours very truly, “Senior Welfare Committee.” “That’s a fake,” pronounced Jerry, instantly. “You know and so do I that Barbara Severn and Phil are glad as can be that you are going to serve on committee with them this year. Whoever wrote this bluff didn’t know that. Any student who was here last year knows how chummy you were with both Phil and Barbara. Ha; great head!” Jerry whacked herself smartly on the top of the head. “How rough you are, Jeremiah!” She fell to rubbing her injured head. “I wish Hamilton offered a course in how to be a detective. I have the investigator’s brain.” “Then take this case and find out who wrote this letter,” Marjorie tossed the second letter into Jerry’s lap. “I’m not going to answer Miss Walker’s letter. It needs no reply.” The sudden firm set of her lovely face showed the girl’s underlying strong character. “Thank fortune,” she said in relief, “this letter is from Miss Susanna. No hateful surprises this time. Her inflection grew unconsciously tender as she read to Jerry: “Dear, Dear Child: “There’s a gala day ahead of us. Two weeks from Saturday afternoon we are to go to the dormitory site to assist in the laying of the cornerstone. Peter Graham says it will be ready to lay on that day, November sixth, at three o’clock in the afternoon. Bring the rest of the Travelers to tea on next Sunday evening and we will talk about the great occasion. I am notifying you of it thus long beforehand so that none of the Travelers will make any other engagements for that day. I shall expect you on Sunday afternoon. “Affectionately, “Susanne Craig Hamilton.” Marjorie raised her head from the reading of this comforting letter, her whole face radiant with returned good cheer. “I feel all ‘chirked’ up again. Jeremiah.” She patted the letter and laid it against her cheek. “The persons who wrote those other two letters are only the shadows; mean, skulking shadows that can’t bear the light. Miss Susanna is the substance. That’s why I love her so much.” “You’re an April Bean,” was Jerry’s indulgent but irrelevant reply. “One minute you cloud over and the next you shine. Now listen to my ambitions. I’m going to shadow some of those skulking shadows you just mentioned and solve the riddle of who writ the wrote. The weary chase may lead me over land and sea, or, at least, all over the campus. Then Bean,” Jerry raised a melodramatic hand above her head, “beloved Bean, your wrongs shall be avenged.” |
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