From all the rooms on that floor flocked various members of the Gang to gather joyfully around Patricia, exclaiming over the crisp new bills as happily as if they were the property of each individual there.
“You’ll have to go over and thank Mrs. Brock, Pat,” declared Katharine mischievously.
“I shall express my gratitude in a very formal, but sincere, note,” replied Patricia, tucking the bills into her hand bag.
“How are you going to spend it!” inquired Clarice, who was wandering restlessly around the room, examining articles on dressers and desks.
“I’m not sure. Probably lay it aside for a while.”
“You might donate it to the scholarship fund, and then this house wouldn’t have to take part in the annual entertainment to raise money for it,” suggested Lucile.
“Don’t you do it!” was Frances’ prompt veto. “Spend it on yourself.”
“Speaking of our stunt for the 25th, we’ve got to have a meeting and decide what we are going to do,” declared Jane firmly.
“Let Pat and Jack do that dance they put on the other night,” suggested Anne.
“The very thing! It could be part of a ballet,” agreed Katharine.
“Will you?” asked Jane, as Patricia looked doubtful.
“If Jack will; but maybe he won’t want to.”
“Why not?” demanded Betty.
“I don’t know; but you can never tell what ideas a fellow has about that sort of thing.”
“Well, I hope he agrees to it; for you’re both a peach of a dancer,” commented Katharine.
“Kay! Your English!” objected Frances.
“I don’t care. You know what I mean.”
“Ask Jack today, will you, Pat?” asked Jane. “Then we can build up the rest of our stunt around you two. We’ll need some of the other boys, too; so Jack need not fear being conspicuous.”
“I’ll see him after Shakespeare class,” promised Patricia.
She was as good as her word, and reported to the committee that evening that Jack had accepted, after much urging. Rehearsals began immediately amid great secrecy; for each group tried to keep its contribution to the entertainment a secret until the night it was presented. Besides Patricia, only Anne, Katharine, Hazel and Frances of the Alley Gang were to take part, with Jane as director of the Arnold Hall production.
“There are loads of better actors than we are among the girls upstairs,” was Jane’s reply to Frances’ protest at not having all the Gang in the affair. “And it’s only right to use as many as we can. They think we’re too prominent in the house as it is, and it wouldn’t look well to keep the whole show to ourselves. They have exactly as much right to be in it as we have.”
Frances pouted, flounced out of the room, and disappeared for the rest of the evening.
“What’s the matter with her?” inquired Betty, who had collided with Frances in the doorway.
“Peeved because the whole Gang isn’t to be used in our act.”
“I must confess I thought you had your nerve with you to leave Clarice out,” commented Betty, helping herself to a piece of candy from a box on Jane’s dresser.
“I suppose I have brought down Mrs. Vincent’s disapproval on myself; but while I have nothing against Clarice personally, it seems to me hardly fitting for a girl who is always behind in her studies, and who has been quite so talked about, to represent Arnold Hall in the big entertainment of the year.”
“Jane always stands by her guns,” remarked Anne admiringly, as she shook out the costume she was working on.
“How well I know that,” laughed Ruth. “I have yet to see her back down from any stand she has taken.”
“Well, I hate people who are always changing their minds,” admitted Jane, gazing critically at a poster she was making for the entertainment. “Make a decision, and then stick to it. That’s my motto.”
Nemesis, the goddess of vengeance, who the ancient Greeks believed listened to the boasts of mortals and promptly punished them, must have made a heavy mark against Jane’s name just then.
CHAPTER XXI
PAT’S SACRIFICE
“But, Dean Walters, she does not seem really bad.”
“There have been many complaints of her, Mrs. Vincent, and her actions are causing most unfavorable comment outside as well as inside college circles. It is not desirable for the institution to retain such a girl.”
“It seems to me that the crowd she was in with for a while is largely responsible. I feel quite sure that Clarice was not entirely to blame in that last affair.”
“Might it not have been better to have verified your suspicions at the time, and brought them to my attention, instead of waiting until now to mention them?”
“Well—she—she naturally would not wish to betray her friends—and I—I—”
“Be that as it may, one more escapade will automatically sever Miss Tyson’s connections with Granard College. I leave it to you to make my decision known to the young lady.”
Patricia drew a long breath of relief as the two women left the library alcove next to the one in which she had been an unwilling eavesdropper.
Not long ago, a noisy party on the top floor, one night when the chaperon was at a concert, had brought a shower of complaints from private houses surrounding Arnold Hall. Exactly who else beside Clarice had attended the spread, no one knew; for she was the only one who owned up when the matter had been made the object of a very solemn house meeting a couple of days later. The affair had crystallized Clarice’s standing in the Hall; for the law-abiding students felt that the honor and reputation of their house had been tarnished. Secretly they wished that the ringleader might be sent to room elsewhere, but gossip whispered that the chaperon was especially interested in Clarice by reason of a long-standing friendship with one of the girl’s relatives.
Patricia was sure, however, that underneath the veneer of lawlessness, the girl was fine and true. She was the only one who had “owned up” and she wouldn’t divulge the names of the other culprits. Too bad she got in with that crowd of girls who roomed outside of the dormitories. They were less hampered by rules and regulations, and gladly welcomed Clarice with her generous allowance and her readiness for all kinds of fun. She was always easily led by anyone who was friendly toward her, and on several occasions she had been taken advantage of by the crowd. It was a pity that a girl who was capable of doing good work, and possessed of qualities which, if developed, would make her amount to something, should be playing around with those idlers who had come to college principally for a good time. Somebody really ought to rescue her.
“I suppose I might undertake the job,” thought Patricia reluctantly. “Clarice responds to flattery and petting like a pussy cat. Yet even if I wanted to (which I really don’t) I haven’t the time. It would mean constant attention, and would probably ruin my standings.”
Patricia shook herself, as if to be rid of the whole troublesome business, and resolutely opened her book. Next day’s assignment was difficult, and required perfect concentration.
“One more escapade—sever connections—”
Bother! Why need those relentless words ring in her ears? It was the duty of Mrs. Vincent, as chaperon, to advise and guard the girls under her care. Inefficient little Dolly! The only methods she knew how to use were reprimands and warnings, neither of which would do in this case. The redemption of Clarice must be effected by one who would win and hold her affection; who could, and would, detach her from the outside crowd, and unite her