The others stopped briefly in the hall to talk. Marjorie was next to leave the group. She remembered she had intended to change her white linen frock, which did not look quite fresh enough for a trip to town. Her last recitation of the afternoon being chemistry, she knew she would have no time to return to the Hall before meeting her chums at the garage.
Alas for the pretty gown of delft blue pongee which she had donned with girlish satisfaction at luncheon time. An accident at the chemical desk sent a veritable deluge of discoloring liquid showering over her. Despite her apron, her frock was plentifully spotted by it.
Ordinarily she would have made light of the misfortune. As it was she felt ready to cry with vexation. She would have to change gowns again in order to be presentable for the trip to Hamilton. The girls had set four-fifteen as the starting time. She could not possibly make it before four-thirty.
Her first resolve was to hurry over to the garage immediately after the chemistry period and tell the the girls not to wait for her.
In spite of Jerry’s assertion to Muriel that they would not wait a moment after four-fifteen, Marjorie knew that they would strain a point and linger a little longer if she did not put in an appearance at the time appointed. Recalling the fact that Lucy was in the Biological Laboratory, situated across the hall from the Chemical Laboratory, Marjorie decided to try to catch Lucy before she left the building and send word to the others to go on without her. She could then hurry straight to the Hall, slip into another gown and hail a taxicab going to the town of Hamilton. There were usually two or three to be found in the immediate vicinity of the campus.
“Oh, there you are!” Marjorie hailed softly, when, at precisely four o’clock Lucy emerged from the laboratory across the hall. “I thought you would be out on the minute on account of going to town. I left chemistry five minutes earlier for fear of missing you. Just see what happened to me.” She displayed the results of the accident. “I am a sight. Tell the girls not to wait. I must go on to the Hall and make myself presentable. I’ll take a taxi and meet them at the Curio Shop. If they’re ready to go on before I reach there, tell them to leave word with the proprietor where they are going next.”
“All right. What a shame about your dress. Do you think those stains will come out?” Lucy scanned the unsightly spots and streaks with a dubious eye.
“I know they won’t.” Marjorie voiced rueful positiveness. “This is the first time I ever wore this frock. I gave it a nice baptism, didn’t I? Well, it can’t be helped now. I mustn’t stop.” The two had come to the outer entrance to Science Hall. “See you at the Curio Shop.” With a parting wave of the hand Marjorie ran lightly down the steps and trotted across the campus.
Always quick of action, it did not take her long, once she had gained her room, to discard the unlucky blue pongee gown for one of pink linen.
“Just half-past four. I didn’t do so badly,” she congratulated, consulting her wrist watch as she hastened down the driveway toward the west gate. “Now for a taxi.”
No taxicab was in sight, however. Three of these useful vehicles had recently reaped a harvest of students bound for town and started off with them. Five minutes passed and Marjorie grew more impatient. To undertake to walk to Hamilton would add greatly to the delay in joining the gift seekers. True she might meet a taxicab on the way. Whether the driver would turn back for a single fare she was not sure. She determined to walk on rather than stand still. If she were lucky enough to meet a taxicab on the highway she would offer its driver double fare to turn around and take her into town.
The brisk pace at which she walked soon brought her to the western end of the campus wall. Presently she had reached the beginning of Hamilton Estates. And still no sign of a taxicab!
“It looks as though I’d have to walk after all,” she remarked, half aloud. “How provoking!” She would reach the Curio Shop about the time the others were starting for the campus was her vexed calculation. Besides, there was Lucy, who would patiently wait for her when she might be going on with the others. They had planned to visit two or three shops.
In the midst of her annoyance, the sound of a motor behind caused her to turn. To her surprise she recognized the driver and machine as being of the regular jitney service between the campus and the town. His only fare was a young man, evidently a salesman who had had business at the college. He was occupying the front seat beside the driver.
The latter stopped at Marjorie’s sign and opened the door of the tonneau for her. Very thankfully she stepped in. Engaged in conversation with the salesman, the man at the wheel drove along at a leisurely rate of speed. Marjorie could only wish that he would hurry a little faster.
Coming opposite to Hamilton Arms, Marjorie forgot her impatience as her eyes eagerly took in the estate she so greatly admired. The chrysanthemums had begun to throw out luxuriant bloom in border and bed, while the bronze and scarlet of fallen leaves lay lightly on the short-cropped grass.
Almost opposite the point where Hamilton Arms adjoined the next estate, Marjorie spied a small, familiar figure trotting along at the left of the highway. It was Miss Susanna Hamilton. In one hand she carried a good-sized splint basket from which nodded a colorful wealth of chrysanthemums in little individual flower pots. She was bare-headed, though over her black silk dress she wore the knitted scarlet shawl which gave her the odd likeness to a lively old robin.
Marjorie leaned forward a trifle as the machine came opposite Miss Susanna. She viewed the last of the Hamiltons with kindly, non-curious eyes. The taxicab had almost slid past the sturdy pedestrian when something happened. The handle of the splint basket treacherously gave way, landing the basket on the ground with force. It tipped side-ways. Two or three of the flower pots rolled out of it.
Forgetting everything but the mishap to Brooke Hamilton’s eccentric descendant, Marjorie called out on impulse: “Driver; please stop the taxi! I wish to get out here!”
CHAPTER VI – THE LAST OF THE HAMILTONS
The man promptly brought the machine to a slow stop. He was too well acquainted with the whims of “them girls from the college” to exhibit surprise. Having paid her fare on entering the taxicab, Marjorie now quitted it with alacrity and ran back to the scene of the mishap.
“Please let me help you,” she offered in a gracious fashion which came straight from her heart. “I saw the handle of that basket break and I made the driver stop and let me out of the taxi.”
Without waiting for Miss Susanna’s permission, Marjorie stooped and lay hold on one of the scattered flower pots. Thus far the old lady had made no effort to gather them in. She had stood eyeing the unstable basket with marked disgust.
“And who are you, may I ask?” The brisk manner of question reminded Marjorie of Miss Remson.
“Oh, I am Marjorie Dean from Hamilton College,” Marjorie said, straightening up with a smile.
For an instant the two pairs of dark eyes met. In the old lady’s appeared a gleam half resentful, half admiring. In the young girl’s shone a pleasant light, hard to resist.
“Yes; I supposed you were one of them,” nodded Miss Susanna. “Let me tell you, young woman, you are the first I have met in all these years from the college who had any claim on gentle breeding.”
Marjorie smiled. “There are a good many fine girls at Hamilton,” she defended without intent to be discourteous. “Any one of a number I know would have been glad to help you.”
“Then that doll shop has changed a good deal recently,” retorted the old lady with rapidity. “Nowadays it is nothing but drive flamboyant cars and spend money for frivolities over there. I hate the place.”
Marjorie was silent. She did not like to contradict further by saying pointedly that she loved Hamilton, neither could she bear the thought of not defending her Alma Mater.
“I can’t say that I hate Hamilton College, because I don’t,” she finally returned, before the pause between the two had grown embarrassing. “I am sure you must have good reason to dislike Hamilton and its students or you would not say so.”
The