As the roadster sped away from the station drive and swung into Herndon Avenue, Hamilton’s main thoroughfare, Marjorie glanced slowly from one side of the street to the other. A happy little smile played upon her lips. Next to Sanford, her home town, she loved the staid college town of Hamilton. She loved it for its wide ornamental streets and stately green-lawned residences. Like all else which bore the name of Hamilton it seemed in some strange elusive way to partake of the fine character of its founder, Brooke Hamilton.
Presently she reached up and removed the white straw hat she wore. She gave a satisfied little intake of breath as the cool afternoon breeze blew gently in her face, lifting the thick clustering curls which framed it and blowing them back from her forehead. Her lovely features wore the untroubled, child-like expression which had ever made them so beautiful. Behind that beautiful untroubled face, however, was the resolute, indomitable spirit of a pioneer. It was that very spirit of endeavor which had made her a force for good at Hamilton College since her enrollment as a student of that institution.
After four years at Sanford High School, Marjorie Dean and four of her intimate girl friends had chosen Hamilton College as their Alma Mater. What happened to them as students at Sanford High School has been recorded in the “Marjorie Dean High School Series,” comprising: “Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman,” “Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore,” “Marjorie Dean, High School Junior” and “Marjorie Dean, High School Senior.”
The account of their doings at Hamilton College may be found in the “Marjorie Dean College Series,” comprising: “Marjorie Dean, College Freshman,” “Marjorie Dean, College Sophomore,” “Marjorie Dean, College Junior,” “Marjorie Dean, College Senior.”
During Marjorie’s senior year at Hamilton College she and her particular friends became interested in a plan to provide Hamilton students in less fortunate financial circumstances than themselves with suitable quarters in which to live. The fact that such students were making great personal sacrifices in order to obtain a college education had aroused the sympathy of Marjorie and her associates.
What began as the raising of a fund by which to make the way easier for the strugglers gradually led to a more ambitious plan on the part of Marjorie and her allies. They dreamed of a free dormitory for needy students which they determined by steady conscientious effort should some day be realized.
With the coming of Commencement which had seen Marjorie and her loyal supporters graduated from Hamilton College had come also the unexpected gift of a valuable piece of property as a site for the new dormitory. The donor, Miss Susanna Hamilton, was the great-niece of the founder of Hamilton College, Brooke Hamilton. While the eccentric old lady had been prejudiced for many years against the college board, she was, on the other hand, a warm friend of Marjorie Dean. During Marjorie’s sophomore year she and Miss Susanna had met by accident. Later, Miss Hamilton had learned to love the sunny, gracious lieutenant. As a result of that love had come Miss Susanna’s amazing concession.
During their senior year in college Marjorie and Robin had turned their attention to the giving of plays, concerts and other pleasing entertainments. These amusements had been welcomed by the Hamilton students and the two successful promoters had reaped a goodly sum of money for the dormitory project. The Nineteen Travelers, a confidential little band which included Marjorie and Robin, had also contributed several hundred dollars to the dormitory fund by the curtailing of personal expenses, elimination of all but a few luxuries and the practicing of self-denial in the matter of dinners and spreads.
The presentation by Miss Susanna Hamilton of the site for the dormitory had made the way clear for the erection of the building in the not far distant future.
At the time of her graduation Marjorie had been fully aware that hers and Robin’s beloved enterprise would require their presence on the campus the following autumn. The real work of their project was yet to come. Robin was free to return to Hamilton. Marjorie had not been certain that her general and her captain would be willing that she should remain away from home another winter. She had left college for Sanford unable to assure her classmates who were to return the next autumn as post graduates that she would be then among them.
“So my prophetic Celtic bones did not lie,” Leila said with teasing good humor. “Ah, Beauty, but was not Leila the wise Irish woman? Did I not prophesy that your general and your captain would be sending you back to college?”
“Of course you did. Your prophetic Celtic bones told you how utterly unselfish they were,” Marjorie returned warmly. “We didn’t exchange a word about my coming back as a P. G. while they were on the campus during Commencement week. One evening soon after we were home Jerry and Lucy came over and General said he had very important orders for the Army. He read us a ridiculous notice, ordering us to report at Hamilton College for post graduate duty, not later than October first, by order of General and Captain Dean. Jerry and Lucy made such a racket over it that General threatened to lock them in the guard house for boisterous conduct.”
Leila listened, immensely tickled by Mr. Dean’s army tactics. Marjorie continued to tell her of Jerry and her doings. She said nothing, however, of Jerry’s brother. Entirely fancy free, Marjorie had never spoken confidentially of Hal to any girl save Constance. Jerry would not have ventured to ask Marjorie a personal question concerning him, intimate as the two girls were.
“Why, Leila,” Marjorie said presently, going back to her superior officers, “after the girls went home that night I had a long talk with General and Captain. I found they considered it my first duty to come back to college. General pretended to be very threatening. He dared me to try to stay at home and see what would happen. I don’t like to be away from them, Leila, but I love my work. And it’s only begun on the campus. It will take us a long time to pay for the dormitory. I may be old as the hills by the time it is paid for,” was her jocular prediction. “If I’m a tottering last leaf when that happens, at least I will have grown old in a good cause.”
CHAPTER VII. – SCENTING MYSTERY
Vera was now bringing the roadster to a stop before the Ivy.
“Hello, old stand-by!” Marjorie raised a cheerful hand of greeting toward the familiar, one-story white stucco building. Its ornamental bungalow effect was made even more attractive by the traits of English ivy which wandered across the front of the shop and were trained above the door and the narrow-paned windows.
“Not another car parked here; glorious! This is a positive streak of luck!” congratulated Vera.
“The Ivy is popular with tourists this summer,” Leila informed Marjorie and Robin as the girls sauntered up the wide white stone walk four abreast. “This is the first time since we came back that we have been able to park in front of the shop.”
Entering the tea room they steered a straight course for one of four alcove tables. During the college year these tables were difficult to secure unless engaged beforehand. All four stood empty now. A brief lull in the mid-afternoon business of the Ivy had found the prosperous shop temporarily deserted.
“Who ever before saw an alcove table at the Ivy empty?” commented Robin as the chums seated themselves.
“It’s almost as still here today as in chapel after Prexy has read out an amazing notice,” declared Vera lightly.
“Observe how soon that chapel-like atmosphere will depart. We are here,” Leila reminded.
“No; this beatific state of sweet silence is due to be shattered this very minute,” Robin agreed.
“Right you are, Robin. It’s a grand palaver we’re about to have. Let us order the luncheon before the gabble party begins,” proposed Leila. “Consomme, chicken à la king, potato straws, cucumber