The following day, Jane, Anne, Frances, and Ruth were sitting on a bench in Reservoir Park, facing the west. A beautiful sunset was dyeing the sky a brilliant crimson and gold. They had gone for a walk after dinner, and now were resting and discussing the events of the preceding evening.
“It’s very clear to me,” Frances was saying emphatically, “that the Dean must have decided upon something drastic regarding Clarice; that Pat knew about it, and got into trouble helping her out.”
“And then thought it might show the Dean that the girls liked and trusted the real Clarice if she had a big part in the show,” continued Anne, tracing a pattern in the dust of the path with a small twig.
“I know that she, herself, taught Clarice that dance,” contributed Ruth, who was industriously pulling a daisy apart, meanwhile saying to herself, “‘He loves me; he loves me not.’ Clarice told me so when I pressed the question last night as to where she had learned it.”
Jane, who had been listening silently with thoughtfully knitted brows and a puzzled expression in her honest grey eyes, now sprang up and faced the three on the bench.
“I think I have it!”
“What?” demanded Ruth in alarm. “Not measles!” In one of the dormitories there was a mild epidemic of that disease of childhood.
“Oh, no,” laughed Jane, “but listen! The night Pat was missing from her room, I was in the bathroom between ten-thirty and eleven. You remember, Ruthie, I told you that the salad we had at dinner made me feel sick?”
Ruth nodded.
“While I was in there, I heard someone cross the hall and go very softly into Clarice’s room—it’s right next to the bathroom, you know. It didn’t sound like Clarice, for she puts her heels down so hard; and the person was very quiet. At the time, I didn’t pay much attention, or try to figure it out; I was feeling pretty sick. But since you’ve been talking, this suddenly all came back to me. Do you know what I think? I’ll bet that Pat discovered Clarice was out for a good time somewhere, and took her room so her absence wouldn’t be noticed. Their hair is about the same shade, and in the dark it would be easy to—”
“Jane! Jane!” cried Anne joyfully. “I believe you have solved the puzzle.”
“Listen,” Frances broke in, “to what I overheard Pat say last night!” And she repeated what she heard of Patricia’s conversation with Jack.
“I’ll bet the Dean intended to drop Clarice if she got another demerit,” said Ruth, when Frances had finished.
“And it fits right in with what Dolly started to say last night,” said Jane, nodding with satisfaction.
“Now all we need to know is whether Clarice was out after hours last Thursday,” concluded Anne; “and when we get home, I’m going to ask her.”
“And if she was?” queried Jane.
“Then—I think—” replied Anne slowly, “that I shall tell her what we suspect. I was with Clarice quite a bit the first of last year, and got to know her fairly well. There’s more good in her than one would suspect, and she’s the last person who’d let anybody else take her punishments.”
“But, Anne,” protested Jane, as they rose to go. The brilliant colors of the sky had faded, and it was beginning to get dark. “Won’t you be undoing all that Pat tried to bring about?”
“No, for the Dean had a long talk with Clarice this afternoon, and they understand each other perfectly. I imagine that Clarice was quite frank about herself, for she told me the Dean was just lovely to her, and regretted their not having understood each other before. Clarice has pretty much of a crush, and she’ll do anything for a person she loves. You see, Clarice’s mother died a number of years ago, and Mr. Tyson has lived in boarding houses and hotels ever since. He adored Clarice, and simply spoiled her, until she became very headstrong. Then he decided to send her to college in the hope that its discipline and associations would sort of make her over—”
“But, Anne,” interrupted Jane; “if you knew all this, why didn’t you tell us before? We might have helped, instead of sitting in judgment on her so often.”
“I didn’t know all of it until this morning, and you’d never guess who told me. Dolly.”
“Dolly!” exclaimed the other girls simultaneously.
“You remember the break she made last night about ‘Albert’? Well, I think she wanted to explain that a bit; so she waited for me after church, and on the way home told me what I have just repeated to you. She met Mr. Tyson and Clarice at the seashore, somewhere in Massachusetts, a couple of years ago; and I guess, again last summer.”
“Then that’s why she’s so fond of Clarice,” remarked Frances; “and I’ll bet my last dollar she’s fond of ‘Albert’ too. Where does he live?”
“Boston.”
“Ah, ha! She gets a letter from Boston every week!” cried Frances triumphantly.
“How do you know?” demanded Jane.
“Have you forgotten that I bring down the mail at noon every day?”
Jane did not reply; for they were by that time at the door of Arnold Hall. As soon as they entered, Anne went in search of Clarice; and nobody saw either of them again that night.
CHAPTER XXIII
SOLUTIONS
The girls of Granard College had finished Monday night’s dessert of chocolate blanc mange, and were restlessly waiting for the signal to leave the dining room, when Clarice, who was sitting at the end of the Arnold Hall table, rose quietly and stood facing her companions.
“I’ve got something to say, girls,” she began abruptly, her big black eyes turned on one after another of the members of the Alley Gang, and coming to rest on Patricia. “Last Thursday night I stayed out after hours without permission. Accidentally Pat found it out—also, what I didn’t know at the time, that if I got another demerit I’d be dropped from college. Like the good sport she is, she occupied my bed until after inspection that night. You all know what a jam she got into, but I was so dumb that I didn’t put two and two together until last night.” Clarice’s fixed gaze here shifted from Patricia’s flushed face to Anne’s. The friendly smile which flashed to her from Anne’s red lips made her falter for a moment. Quickly, however, she recovered her poise, and continued. “I’ve seen the Dean, and explained the whole affair to her; as well as to Mrs. Vincent. And, Pat’s slate is clean.”
Clarice turned from the table, and before the astonished girls could move, had darted out of a side door which was directly behind her. Then pandemonium broke loose.
“Three cheers for Clarice and Pat!” cried Katharine, waving her arms excitedly.
An immediate and hearty response centered the attention of the entire dining room upon the Arnold Hall table; and as the girls left the building they were besieged by the other students to know the cause of the demonstration.
Although examinations loomed in the near future, no one could study in Arnold Hall that evening; everyone was too excited, and too happy, to settle down. The members of the Alley Gang roamed restlessly in and out of one another’s rooms, talking incessantly, while sampling the “eats” which had arrived in several boxes from home that day. Patricia had managed to get Clarice for a few moments alone in order to say some things which couldn’t be said in public.
“Please don’t, Pat,” protested the other girl. “I’m so far in debt to you that—”
“But, Clarice,” interrupted Patricia, putting her hand forcibly over her friend’s mouth to check further talk about indebtedness, “I want to know how things stand with you. You won’t be dropped?”
“No,