Peggy Parsons a Hampton Freshman Part 16

The friends strolled leisurely along, enjoying the brilliant coloring of the trees, and the beautiful golden sunlight of a late October afternoon.

They had nearly reached Hampton village and Katherine was beginning to think that Peggy would reach Ambler House without discovering her mistake about the stockings when, with a thrill of horror, she heard her say, "Look at my feet, how _dusty_ they are-you couldn't tell _what_ color shoes I had on."

"But, oh, dear, if they aren't blind they can tell what color _stockings_," moaned Katherine to herself.

Politely Jim and their new friend glanced down at the dusty oxfords.

Jim gave a start and was about to speak, when Katherine saw him suddenly look at her feet, too. His eyes twinkled.

"Is that a-new fad?" he asked finally. "A fellow would never dare adopt anything so radical."

"Is what a new fad?" demanded the unconscious Peggy, and then she looked down and saw.

Her face burned with a quick red, but she laughed infectiously. "We-we went wading, and I suppose I did this when I saw you, Jim, so it's all his fault. Kay dear, can you forgive?"

Jim and Bud laughed with her, and of course the devoted Katherine forgave on the spot.

Young men are not allowed to linger in the grounds at Hampton, so the adieus were quickly said and Peggy and Katherine hurried across the campus to Ambler House.

No sooner had they reached their room than word went down the hall that there was cider in room 22, and one by one the girls on the second floor found excuses to drop into Peggy's and Katherine's room. They were most generously supplied with cider, as they hoped they would be, and Peggy and Katherine had no wish to keep any of it for themselves, after they had seen the sort of apples that went into it.

"Funny thing," said Peggy sadly as they were dressing for the evening later, "I don't believe I'll ever like cider so very much again."

"No," agreed Katherine, "the safest way to do, if you want to keep your enthusiasm for anything, is not to know how it's made."

"You're right. I'll shut my eyes more after this," laughed Peggy, "but anyway, dear room-mate, we had an awfully nice time, didn't we?"

"Oh, so, so," answered Katherine noncommittally.

CHAPTER IX-THE HOUSE DANCE

It seemed no time at all to Peggy, after the Indian summer pa.s.sed, that winter rushed upon them and shriveled them up on their way to cla.s.ses, and blew powdered snow in their faces when they went for their walks.

"There's only one thing I can think of to brighten things up," wailed Doris Winterbean one day, "so that we'll all carry away pleasant memories of the place for Christmas."

"Well, what's that?" asked Peggy, without interest, for each day of hers was as full of good times as it could be, and she thought she wouldn't need pleasant things to remember over the holidays anyway, because she would be enjoying herself so much during them that it would crowd all thoughts of past and future, too, out of her head.

"A house dance," said Doris thrillingly.

Peggy was all interest now.

"Would they-could we get one up before Christmas?" she asked. "But then," the brightness faded from her eyes, "I have to lead half of the time and I'm not tall enough, so it really doesn't matter as much to me as it might."

"Oh, pshaw," exclaimed Doris, "I didn't mean that kind of a dance. Not just girls, you know."

"No-o?" said Peggy cautiously.

"Of course not."

"Well, whom then?"

"Oh, people from Amherst or Williams-or Dartmouth or wherever we can get them."

"You mean a _man_ dance?"

"Yes."

"Well, let's have it right away."

"I don't know anybody to ask, except a young prep school boy, but--"

"Oh, I'll have Jim bring over a lot of people from Amherst, and we can decorate the room with purple in their honor, and then we can all sing their songs when the dancing is over."

The plans for the dance were soon being elaborately laid by every Amblerite. The matron said it must be in the afternoon. So they set a convenient Sat.u.r.day, and dispatched their invitations informally over the telephone. Jim responded so n.o.bly to the appeal Peggy made to him, that he rounded up half a dozen football stars and glee club men for the partners of the girls who didn't know anybody within telephoning distance.

"I'll bring the whole frat, if you say so," came Jim's cheerful voice over the wire. "Half of them can't dance to amount to anything, but they can stand around and be ornamental-and fetch and carry ices."

"Well, our dancing isn't a thing of beauty and a joy forever either, but that won't keep us off the floor. Bring anybody you like, that is, of the kind I mentioned, but they must be willing."

"_Willing_? Can you take care of all Amherst if I bring it?"

"_Yes_," responded Peggy enthusiastically. "_We_ could, but there wouldn't be ices enough."

"Oh, well," laughed Jim, "you can't expect us to come without ices."

"I suppose not."

"Well, you expect us Sat.u.r.day. Six of us anyway. I'll bring the crowd over in my machine."

"Oh, _Jim_! Have you a machine?"

"Better believe I have. And some day, when the weather is fine, I'll take you riding."

"Oh, goody! What kind is it?"

"A Ford."

And Peggy hung up the receiver on the laugh that drifted to her over the wire.

She climbed to her room and sank silently down on the window seat.

All the recitations of Sat.u.r.day morning dragged unaccountably whenever an Ambler House girl was called on.

They were too eager for cla.s.ses to be over and the time for the dance to come, to take a great interest in dative and accusative cases, or in the sum of the angles of right angle triangles.