Jane Allen: Right Guard Part 3

"Why, Judy, I don't see how----" began Jane, then suddenly broke off with, "Go on and tell me the rest."

"I didn't like this girl for a cent. Her name is n.o.ble, but it doesn't fit her. She has one of those prying, detestable faces, thin, with a sharp chin, and she hates to look one straight in the face," continued Judith disgustedly. "I went over to see Adrienne and Ethel and told them. Then we all went downstairs to interview Mrs. Weatherbee. She said you weren't coming back to Madison Hall this year."

"Not coming back to Madison Hall!" exclaimed Jane, her scowl now in fierce evidence. "Did _she_ say it in just those words?"

"She certainly did," responded Judith. "I told her that I was sure that you were and she simply froze up and gave me one of those Arctic-circle stares. All she said was, 'I am surprised at you, Miss Stearns. I am not in the habit of making incorrect statements.' Adrienne started to ask her when you had given up your room and she cut her off with: 'Young ladies, the subject is closed.' So that's all we know about it, and I guess you don't know any more of it than we do."

"So _that_ was why you didn't want me to go on to the Hall until I knew," Jane said slowly. "Well, I know now, and I'm going straight there. Mrs. Weatherbee has never liked me. Still it's a rather high-handed proceeding on her part, I think."

"If she did it of her own accord, I don't see how she dared. I'm not going to stand for it. That's all," burst out Judith hotly. "Miss Howard won't either. As registrar she'll have something to say, I guess. If she doesn't, then on to Miss Rutledge. That's going to be my motto. I won't have that girl in your place, Jane. I _won't_."

"I won't let her stay there if I can help it," was Jane's decided answer. "I'd rather the affair would be between Mrs. Weatherbee and me, though. If she has done this from prejudice, I'll fight for my rights.

It won't be the first time she and I have had words. It seems hard to believe that a woman of her age and position could be so contemptible."

"That's what I thought," agreed Judith. "Well, we'll soon know. Here we are at the edge of the campus. Doesn't old Wellington look fine, though, Jane?"

Jane merely nodded. She could not trust herself to speak. The gently rolling green of the wide campus had suddenly burst upon her view. Back among the trees, Wellington Hall lifted its ma.s.sive gray pile, lording it in splendid grandeur over the buildings of lesser magnitude that dotted the living green.

She had longed for a sight of it all. It was as though she had suddenly come upon a dear friend. For a moment the perplexities of the situation confronting her faded away as her gray eyes wandered from one familiar point on the campus to another.

"It's wonderful, Judy," she said softly, her tones quite steady. "Even with this horrid tangle staring me in the face I can't help being glad to see Wellington again. Somehow, I can't help feeling that there's been a mistake made. I don't want to pa.s.s through the gates of Wellington with my heart full of distrust of anyone."

"You're a dear, Jane!" was Judith's impulsive tribute. "Adrienne says Mrs. Weatherbee may turn out to be 'the grand villain.' Let's hope she won't. Anyway, if things can't be adjusted, wherever you go to live I'll go, too. I won't stay at the Hall without you."

"Thank you, Judy." Jane found Judith's hand and squeezed it hard. She had inwardly determined, however, that her roommate should not make any such sacrifice. It would be hard to find a room anywhere on the campus to take the place of the one the two had occupied at Madison Hall during their freshman year.

"I'm glad there's no one on the veranda," presently commented Jane.

Having dismissed the taxicab, the three girls were now ascending the steps of the Hall.

"Better wait here for me, girls, I'd rather have it out with Mrs.

Weatherbee alone," she counseled. "I hope I sha'n't lose my temper," she added ruefully.

Mentally bracing herself for the interview, Jane crossed the threshold of the Hall and walked serenely past the living-room to the matron's office just behind it. She was keeping a tight grip on herself and intended to keep it, if possible. She knew from past experience how greatly Mrs. Weatherbee's calm superiority of manner had been wont to irritate her.

Jane loathed the idea of having a dispute with the matron the moment she entered Madison Hall. She had begun the first day of her freshman year in such fas.h.i.+on. Afterward it had seemed to her that most of the others had been stormy, as a consequence of a wrong start.

She reflected as she walked slowly down the hall that this new trouble, was, at least, not of her making. She had the comforting knowledge that this time she was not at fault.

CHAPTER IV

THE REASON WHY

Primed for the momentous interview, Jane was doomed to disappointment.

The matron's office was empty of its usual occupant.

"Oh, bother!" was her impatient exclamation. "I'll either have to wait for her or go and find her. I'll go back to the veranda and tell the girls," she decided. "Then I'll come here again. Mrs. Weatherbee may not be in the Hall for all I know."

"Back so soon. What did she say?"

Judith sprang eagerly from the wicker chair in which she had been lounging.

"She is not there," returned Jane with a shadow of a frown. "I'm sorry.

I wanted to see her and get it over with. Where's Ethel?"

"Oh, she forgot that she had an appointment with Miss Howard. She rushed off in a hurry."

"Mrs. Weatherbee has perhaps gone to make the call," suggested Adrienne.

"Why do you not ring the bell and thus summon the maid?"

"A good idea."

Standing near the door, Jane's fingers found the electric bell and pressed it.

"Where is Mrs. Weatherbee?" she inquired of the maid who presently came to answer the door. "Isn't Millie here any more?" she added, noting that a stranger occupied the place of the good-natured girl who had been at the Hall during Jane's freshman year.

"No, miss. She's gone and got married. Did you want Mrs. Weatherbee?

She's upstairs. I'll go and find her for you."

"Thank you. If you will be so kind. Please tell her Miss Allen wishes to see her."

Disturbed in mind, though she was, Jane replied with a graciousness she never forgot to employ in speaking to those in more humble circ.u.mstances than herself. It was a part of the creed her democratic father had taught her and she tried to live up to it.

"Wish me luck, girls, I'm going to my fate. Wait for me," she said lightly and vanished into the house.

"She's taking it like a brick," Judith admiringly commented.

"Ah, yes. Jane is what _mon pere_ would call 'the good sport,'" agreed Adrienne. "She is the strange girl; sometimes fierce like the lion over the small troubles. When come the great misfortunes she has calm courage."

Re-entering Mrs. Weatherbee's office, Jane seated herself resignedly to wait for the appearance of the matron. When fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed and she was still waiting, the stock of "calm courage" attributed to her by Adrienne, began to dwindle into nettled impatience.

She now wished that she had not given her name to the maid. It looked as if Mrs. Weatherbee were purposely keeping her waiting. This thought stirred afresh in Jane the old antagonism that the matron had always aroused.

After half an hour had dragged by Jane heard footsteps descending the stairs to the accompaniment of the faint rustle of silken skirts. She sat suddenly very straight in her chair, her mood anything but lamb-like.

"Good afternoon, Miss Allen," greeted a cool voice.

Mrs. Weatherbee rustled into the little office, injured dignity written on every feature of her austere face.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weatherbee."

Courtesy to an older woman prompted Jane to rise. Her tone, however, was one of strained politeness. There was no move made toward handshaking by either.

"I was greatly surprised to learn that _you_ wished to see me, Miss Allen," was the matron's first remark after seating herself in the chair before her writing desk.