Marjorie Dean at Hamilton Arms. Chase Josephine
Marjorie turned very pink.
“Yes, Doctor Matthews; you are right,” the old lady said with a fleeting smile. “I am here this afternoon because of Marjorie. Because of her, you and I have come to speaking terms. The years were going fast, and I was not growing less bitter against the college. Then I met this child. She has led me back to old Hamilton Hall. I’m here at last, but still selfish. I came here today to please myself, even more than her.” It was as though Miss Susanna had uttered a grim kind of confession.
“Miss Susanna is not selfish, Doctor Matthews,” Marjorie gently contradicted. “She’s unselfish, and altogether splendid. She came here to do honor to Mr. Brooke Hamilton’s memory, and give happiness to us all. It has not been easy for her to thrust away the barrier of years. Yet she has done it. She has been heroically unselfish.” Her voice rang triumphantly. Her fond smile at Miss Susanna brought unbidden tears to the old lady’s eyes.
“I am happy in agreeing with you, Miss Dean. Miss Susanna has today demonstrated her complete unselfishness.” The president bowed to Miss Susanna.
“I forbid you both to make any more personal remarks about me,” broke in Miss Susanna’s concise utterance. “I have been selfish and unfair to Uncle Brooke’s memory. It is time I did something to make up for it.” She wagged her head ruefully. “May I ask, Doctor Matthews, have you ever heard the story of my disagreement with the Board?”
“I have heard a story which had to do with your being rudely treated, a number of years ago, by a member of the Board whose estate adjoined yours. The churlish behavior of this member of the Board was the cause of your refusal to place in the hands of Dr. Burns, who had been selected to write Brooke Hamilton’s biography, the data for the biography,” the doctor stated in pleasant, impersonal tones.
“True enough so far as it goes,” Miss Susanna acknowledged tersely. “The member of the Board with whom I quarreled was Alec Carden. A greater scamp never lived. We quarreled over Uncle Brooke’s will. It seems a long long time ago.” She gave an impatient little sigh.
“It was before I accepted the presidency of Hamilton College. I have been informed by the two gentlemen, still serving on the Board, who were members then, that it was a deplorable period for the college during which the Board engaged in one wrangle after another. They frankly criticized Mr. Carden as having behaved more like an unscrupulous politician than as became a dignified member of a college board. I have never doubted but that your grievance against the Board was sound.” The doctor sat back in his chair and surveyed the little upright figure in gray opposite him with one of his encouraging, kindly smiles.
“Thank you, Doctor. The only way in which I may show proper appreciation of your confidence in me is to tell you the story from beginning to end.” Miss Susanna sat very still for a moment after her electrifying announcement. It was as though she were trying to choose her words for a beginning.
An anticipatory silence hung over the president’s office. Dr. Matthews awaited the revelation with profound relief. It would mark the laying of the unwelcome ghost which had walked the campus all these years. Marjorie found herself filled with an odd kind of astonishment. She was at last to hear the story which for years Miss Hamilton had stubbornly locked behind her lips.
CHAPTER III
THE REAL GUARDIAN OF HAMILTON
“Alec Carden was a man of middle age when I was a young woman.” Miss Susanna’s characteristically brusque tones shattered the brief silence. “He had never liked Uncle Brooke, simply because Uncle Brooke was upright and he was not. Neither had my uncle liked him. As an older man of wide experience Uncle Brooke once or twice advised Alec Carden against certain enterprises in which he had engaged. Each time the advice was flouted. Carden chose to regard him as an interfering old meddler.
“Uncle Brooke made his will years before he died. He never changed it. From the time he built Hamilton College he knew precisely what was important to its welfare. He knew, too, what would be best for it in time to come. He went over the will with me, often and carefully. He was determined that I should thoroughly understand every clause of it.” Every sentence of the old lady’s narrative fell clear-cut from her lips.
“He had divided his wealth, which was very great, equally between me and the college, aside from a few bequests to the servants and a special legacy to Jonas. He used to say to me whimsically, on occasion: ‘I’ve already given my college a large fortune, Susanna, and I’ve only given you a home and a little spending money. But you can get along with a little, and my college cannot. Besides, I’m here to look after you. When I’m gone, it’s you and my college; share and share alike.’”
“Miss Susanna,” Marjorie spoke as the old lady paused briefly, “may I please put that in the biography?” Forgotten for the moment were all her misgivings. She was not thinking of herself as biographer. She was desirous that such valuable matter should not be left out of the biography itself.
“So you’ve decided to make the best of it,” laughed the old lady. “Oh, I knew what I was doing when I chose you as his biographer. Since I’ve surrendered, I’ve surrendered unconditionally. I wish the world to know his little quirks and turns, his fancies and his whimsies.”
“It is indeed a pleasure to contemplate the thought of Miss Dean as Brooke Hamilton’s biographer,” gallantly supplemented President Matthews.
“I thank you both.” Marjorie’s sunshiny smile flashed briefly forth. It faded, leaving her beautiful features unusually grave. “Perhaps hearing these delightful personal memories of him will give me the inspiration to do him justice,” she said very humbly. “I can only try to write his story. If I fail – ”
“You can’t fail,” broke in Miss Hamilton. “There is no such word as fail in your vocabulary.” She reached out and patted Marjorie’s arm. “Now you and the doctor are to listen to a letter of instruction which Uncle Brooke gave me, sealed, a year before he died.”
She took from a morocco handbag a letter, held it up and pointed to the superscription: “‘For Susanna. Not to be opened until after my death:’” she read. She drew the letter from its envelope. “I prefer to read it to you,” she explained. “You may examine it afterward as much as you like.” She began:
“Dear Susanna:
“I have just come from an afternoon spent with Mr. Walpole, my lawyer. I have arranged with him in a codicil certain matters pertaining to Hamilton College. I must now acquaint you with these. You must be fitly equipped to carry out my wishes in regard to my college when I have gone on to a world of blessed fulfillment, which can never be here.
“I love my college, Susanna. Because I love it I must leave nothing undone to safeguard its welfare. My ancestors left me the land. I gave the site, my money erected the buildings, endowed the college. My brain, heart and mind acted as one in bringing beauty to the campus. It is the child of my heart, Susanna. It must not, shall not depart from the near perfection to which I have raised it. I have gloried in the spirit of democracy that has developed among the students as a result of my own thoughtful planning. But the past three years have marked a change. A certain element of arrogance and false pride has stolen into the college with the enrollment of a few students who come from homes of affluence.
“The present Board are not in favor of conducting Hamilton College on the basis of nobility which I believe should be particularly the foundation of an institution of learning. They are desirous of commercializing the campus. They are possessed to ruin its natural beauty by dotting it thickly with ornate halls and houses. Such as these for the accommodation of a few students who can afford to pay extravagant prices for board and lodging. These sordid schemers are eager to take advantage of the fact that I have fitted and endowed Hamilton magnificently. They intend to put their stupid, ignoble ideas into force as soon as I am gone. I overheard one of them say to another at a Board meeting not long ago: ‘When he is out of the running we shall have a free sweep.’ They imagine that with my death Hamilton College will achieve freedom from the direction of a Hamilton, and with it a vast fortune. The board dreams of unlimited power to spend my money, and with no restraint.
“You are to assume my