Part 12 (1/2)
”Were you frightened of anything?” asked Miss Jordan, rubbing the trembling hands.
”But no one came in, did they, Helen?” asked Jane in real alarm.
”Oh, no, I-locked the door when I felt so queer. I thought perhaps it was the expressmen, but I could not attend--”
”You were very wise, my dear,” and Miss Jordan shook her head thoughtfully. ”It was better to be alone, although the experience was unpleasant. Those men might have picked up anything from this collection and then--”
”I am so sorry we left you alone,” Judith murmured, with real penitence in her voice. ”And to think we were gadding about, while you were ill and needed us so urgently. There, swallow that ammonia. It will soon revive you. I should hate to faint.”
”Oh, I am again all right,” and the pale face lightened up just a shade. ”I am so much of a baby to get sick like that--”
”We will not leave New York until to-morrow if you do not feel perfectly all right,” announced Jane with authority.
”Oh, but please, yes,” begged Helen. ”I am so glad to get to the big school. I like New York, but it is not like the college with all big grounds--”
”That is just what I say, Miss Allen,” put in Miss Jordan as she smoothed the cus.h.i.+ons they were piling around Helen. ”You young ladies have been having a great time, running around and feeding on electives, as we say at college when we choose our own studies. Are you sure you feel all right to travel, Helen?”
”Oh, yes, indeed. It was nothing. I was so happy-with all the new things that I forgot to eat my breakfast. I shall be all ready when the other girls are. And I am so grieved to give trouble.” Helen was now quite herself again. The ammonia had done the work of restoring the temporarily impeded circulation. But Jane and Judith were not satisfied that all the story of her sudden illness had been told. It was decidedly strange that a girl should faint, right in her own room, and in the middle of the day. Still, both were too wise to press questions just then. The very best plan to be put in operation, they were deciding silently, was for all hands to be off to Wellington that very afternoon.
There was some bustling about, but Miss Jordan helped, and in spite of the confusion the baggage was finally s.h.i.+pped successfully and on time.
”Little old New York!” exclaimed Jane merrily, pressing her personal good bye on Miss Jordan. ”You have been very good to the Wellington Refugees. And we thank you.”
CHAPTER XII-WELLINGTON EN Ma.s.sE
”Pray tell me, pretty maiden, are there any more at home like you?”
This came from the spreading oak, while from the group of young pines, in a remote corner of the campus the answer wafted in vigorous girlish voices:
”There are a few, and pretty too-to-too, to-oo-oo-oo.”
It was the call to the incoming horde, on their first day at Wellington.
Over in the hollow, known as the Lair, another contingent from the upper cla.s.ses called out, rather than sang:
”Sing a song of Fres.h.i.+es ready for the fray, Open arms, oh, Wellington, and carry them away!”
A grand rush followed this challenge. The newcomers to Wellington, some timid, some brave, but all expectantly happy, were then borne away to the mysteries of college initiation-to the great world of advanced education. No hazing here, just the good-natured pranks dear to the heart of every college girl, and significant in the good fellows.h.i.+p established at the very outset of the broader school life. Came another shout:
”Get together, all together, keep together-wow!
Every little Fres.h.i.+e must make a pretty bow!”
This was the signal for the real carrying off, for as the freshmen complied with the order ”to bow” each was blindfolded, and carried off by a pair, or more, of strong arms, and quickly deposited in the gym.
With that dexterity for which such pranks are chiefly remarkable, the stunt was accomplished, to the sophs being a.s.signed the task. The pledge of college sorority restricts the publication of the actual happenings in the sacred confines of the gym on this Initiation Day, but facts not on the program may be honorably recounted.
When Helen was ordered to sit down, she did so with such unexpected alacrity that she sat on the college cat-Minerva by name.
No one regretted this accident more than did the cat. The howl from the girls, and the protests from Minerva fully substantiating this statement. But following this incident no one else could be induced to sit down. All feared cats, fiercer cats and bigger cats. As usual with the simple sitting down order a merry time followed. The blinded girls always feel they are in some unseen danger and refuse to be seated.
Visions of cold lakes, high hills, soapy tubs, and even sequestered cats, seem to possess the aspirants. Of course, when they do unbend, they always find themselves sitting comfortably in a perfectly good seat. But Helen sat down with a bang, and this promptness won her first goal.