Elizabeth Hobart at Exeter Hall. Jean Katherine Baird

Elizabeth Hobart at Exeter Hall - Jean Katherine  Baird


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quitted the car. From the window she saw them try to make their way through the crowd of loafers which had gathered about the platform. Suddenly a young colored boy in snuff-colored suit and high hat appeared. He immediately took charge of the children, and with them in his arms pushed his way to where a carriage stood at the curb, the women following close at his heels.

      As the train pulled out, Elizabeth saw them bowling down the country road in a wide-open barouche, with coachman and footman in livery.

      It was not long until the trainman called “Exeter!” Elizabeth gathered up her wraps and magazines. She knew that she might expect a carriage from the Hall at the station to meet the students.

      Landis and Min had also gathered together their belongings. As the train drew into the station, they were first on the platform.

      “There’s Jimmy Jordan!” they cried together, as a young colored boy with an expansive grin came up to take their luggage.

      “Jimmy, how’s the Hall?”

      Jimmy responded with a grin just a little more expansive than the previous one.

      Elizabeth stood close at their side. “Are you from Exeter Hall?” she asked the boy. Having received an answer which she supposed an affirmative, she handed him her checks and the baggage which she carried in her arms. The girls whom the boy had addressed as Miss Kean and Miss Stoner led the way. Elizabeth followed at their heels, and in a few moments the three were being driven rapidly to Exeter Hall.

      CHAPTER III.

      THE DINNER EPISODE

      A drive of several miles through a beautiful country brought them to their destination. Elizabeth was surprised, for neither her father nor mother had prepared her for the beauty of the place; a long stretch of campus, with great forest trees, beyond which were the tennis-courts and athletic fields; then the Hall itself. The original building was a large wooden mansion with wide porches and spacious rooms with low ceilings. But for years this had served as a home for the president of Exeter, the school itself having been removed to the newer buildings of gray stone.

      The carriage passed through shaded drives which led to the front entrance. Arm in arm, groups of girls in white gowns were moving about or sat in little groups beneath the trees.

      During the drive Elizabeth’s companions had chattered continuously. Elizabeth had paid little attention to them. Her eyes were on the new country about her.

      “It must be nearly dinner-time,” exclaimed Landis, as the carriage turned in at the entrance to the campus. “The girls are all out. I hope we’ll be in time to go down with them. But we’ll have to go in and do the ‘polite’ with Miss Morgan.”

      “Nora O’Day is back,” exclaimed Miss Kean. “Isn’t that she out there on the campus with Mary Wilson?”

      “It can’t be. Mary Wilson and she were never friends.” As she spoke, Landis leaned eagerly from the window to get a view of the campus. “It can’t be Miss O’Day,” she repeated. “She and Mary are not the same style at all.”

      “I think Miss O’Day’s swell looking. Don’t you?”

      “She has plenty of money and knows how to dress,” was the rejoinder.

      They had reached the entrance door. Jimmy Jordan, who appeared to be general utility boy, dismounted to open the door for them. Then he led the way into the great hall and on to the office, throwing open the doors before him with energetic officiousness, giving one the impression that he was the most important personage at Exeter Hall.

      On entering the office, a woman advanced to shake hands with Miss Stoner and Miss Kean. With a few words of greeting, she dismissed them each with a bunch of jangling keys, and the information that they were to occupy the same rooms as the previous year. Then she turned to Elizabeth. “This is Miss Hobart?” she said, shaking her hand cordially, and drawing her forward to a chair. “Your father wrote me that you would arrive to-day. Jordan,” to the boy who stood grinning at her side, “Miss Wilson is somewhere on the campus. Ask her to step to the office, please. Miss Wilson will be your roommate. She will take charge of you. If you will excuse me, I’ll return to work which claims me.” She turned to her desk and was soon absorbed in correspondence.

      Elizabeth was thus given an opportunity to study her. She was a tall woman, so tall and slender that these qualities first impressed those who saw her. Yet later, when one stood beside her, you discovered to your surprise that she was merely the average woman in height. It had been her carriage, her manner of holding her head, which gave the impression of unusual height. One might have thought her critical and stern had it not been that the expression of her eyes, which were gray and unusually large, was gentle and shy. Her well-shaped head was crowned with coils of brown hair touched with gray drawn loosely back from a broad, low forehead. She was a woman who could not pass unobserved in a crowd, yet she was not beautiful. It was that her presence was felt, rather than she herself observed. She had said little to the new student; yet the direct effect of her presence caused Elizabeth to be glad she had come to Exeter.

      “Oh, here is Miss Wilson!” Dr. Morgan arose. “Miss Wilson, Miss Hobart will be your roommate. I shall put her in your care.”

      The girl extended her hand. She was not nearly so tall as Elizabeth. Her yellow hair without ribbon or comb hung about her ears. She shook her head and flung back her locks like a spirited young horse tossing its mane. Her eyes were brown and dancing and her face was brimming over with fun. Her voice was high pitched and so cheery that her hearers were compelled to believe that she was at that minute having the best time of her life.

      “I have been expecting you,” she cried. “I was hoping you would come to-day so that we could get to housekeeping to-morrow, for lessons begin the next day.”

      She led the way into the hall. Here she stopped to clap her hands in order to call Jimmy’s attention. “Here, Jimmy, take this lady’s checks and bring her trunks up to No. 10. If they are there before we get back from dinner, Jimmy, there’ll be a piece of cake for you.”

      Jimmy grinned and rolled his eyes, then swung himself down the hall in search of the baggage.

      Miss Wilson never ceased her chatter as they entered the side hallway and mounted the stairs.

      “The students must not use the main stairway, except during commencement week, under penalty of death,” she explained. “That’s reserved for the Fac and other Lord-Highs. Here’s our room – quite close to the stairway. A nuisance, you’ll find it. Every girl on her way up or down will drop in to see us. It won’t be because we’re popular, but one can’t help wanting to rest after climbing stairs, and our chairs are particularly easy.” Her voice, as she talked, had a ring of laughter in it which made Elizabeth feel, for the moment, that having your friends love you for your chairs alone was the greatest fun in the world.

      She led the way into their apartment. There was a big sitting-room with wide windows overlooking the campus; an open grate with log and gas fixtures, ready for the cooler days of autumn, filled the space between the two windows. From this room a door led to a bedroom devoid of all furnishing except the simple essentials of a sleeping-place.

      Miss Wilson drew forward a chair. “Sit here a moment to rest. Let me put your wraps away. I’ll make a guest of you to-day. It isn’t long until dinner-time. We are expected to change our dresses. But Miss Morgan will excuse you to-day as you have just arrived. I think you will like the girls here.”

      She chatted on while Elizabeth rested and prepared for dinner. She looked with admiration upon Elizabeth’s linen frock and long braid of smooth hair. “I like the way you braid your mane,” she laughed, giving a toss of her own. “It’s the style of hair I’ve always coveted. A siege of fever a year ago is responsible for my new crop, short and curly. I look forward to the time when I, too, can appear with dignity and a coil of hair about my head.”

      “Do you think you could be dignified then?” asked Elizabeth shyly. She was standing in the middle of the bedroom with towel in hand. At her words Miss Wilson tossed her head.

      “I’m afraid you will prove like the other girls here. They can not be


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