Peggy Parsons a Hampton Freshman Part 24

For a little while at least-until the gorgeous thing actually dropped to pieces-she would appear as well-dressed, as beautiful and as fragile as the other girls, with her hitherto covered shoulders glistening charmingly into view and her arms bare and bright almost to the shoulder.

At this moment Gloria came in from her own room, her fair face flushed, and her arms laden. There was a curious hauteur, that was foreign to her accustomed manner, clinging about her, somehow.

And the very first thing that she put up was the wonderful suit of Belgian blue!

As she mounted the swaying pile of cus.h.i.+ons, her expression never softened to the hilarity that the occasion had held up till now.

The light gleamed over the wonderful blue of the thing in her arms.

"A suit," she began, in that voice the freshmen wors.h.i.+pped, "a blue suit. Tailored to fit me. Do for any tall girl. The lining is, as you see, a good quality taffeta," she turned the coat conscientiously inside out, "and a blue silk underskirt goes with the skirt. I've worn this three times. I don't think very many people saw it, for it was only to chapel and vespers and--"

A laugh interrupted her. That was rather scathing of her, those of her cla.s.smates who were present thought. For they were required to attend chapel and vespers and didn't like the implication that they neglected their duty.

"Kaddie," whispered Peggy, "do you suppose she's got so many clothes-that-that three wearings is-enough?"

She gasped at the very idea of such a thing. The condition of the chiffon gown that Zelda had sold was more like her own things by the time she had done with them. She could not fancy any one parting with something they had scarcely become even used to yet.

"Maybe it isn't becoming to her."

"Oh, Kaddie!"

Katherine looked again at the figure of Gloria with her blue burden over her arm and saw that she had spoken carelessly.

The blue of the suit brought out the blue of the eyes in a dazzling fas.h.i.+on. The triumphant red and gold of Gloria's hair and eye-lashes flamed more like those of a Norse G.o.ddess than ever.

"What am I offered? I can't advertise"-(the ghost of a smile did quirk her lips here for an instant)-"as Zelda did, that this suit has known only happy times. It's-had to take its chances. But such as it is-it's ready for your offers."

She stood expectantly, the suit lifted a little on her arm.

"Twenty-five," lazily called a senior from the back of the room.

"I'm offered twenty-five," said the auctioneer, "and I'm-still listening."

"Thirty," piped Hazel Pilcher eagerly.

"Forty," jumped the senior's voice from the back of the room.

"Forty-one," hesitated Doris Winterbean.

There was no more bidding. Doris opened her check-book and wrote the sum which had purchased the s.h.i.+ning wonder that had lately been the property of the freshman president. She knew that suit had never cost less than a hundred, and she was more than satisfied. Its former wearing rather lent it grace than detracted from its value, considering who the wearer was.

"I was going to buy a new suit and a spring coat for next term," said Doris, "but this will have to do instead of both now,-and I'd rather have it."

But nothing else that was put up by the others, or by Gloria herself, brought anything like that price-none even yielded so high a percentage of its original cost.

Gloria offered waists, which went for prices such as fifty cents, or, at the highest, a dollar. Then she held up an adorable kimono, direct from j.a.pan, that all the girls had envied and coveted. But beautiful kimonos are luxuries, whereas suits of some kind are necessities. So her sacrifice met with no such fortune as the blue suit had called forth.

Most of the girls didn't attend college auctions with their check-books.

Doris Winterbean was a single foresighted exception.

"Isn't it terrible to see those beautiful things going for a few pennies?" said Peggy.

"It is," nodded Katherine. "What can that girl be thinking of?"

"Thinking of turning into a savage, I should say," Peggy speculated in answer. "You can see she isn't going to have many clothes left."

"She looks as picturesque as ever, anyway," sighed Katherine. "It's too bad there are not more of our cla.s.smates here to see her."

"Yes, she was certainly a lucky choice for president," agreed Peggy.

"Your choice."

"Well, my choice first and the cla.s.s's afterwards, and I'm sure we're both proud of our good taste."

The radiant one was again holding up an article of apparel before their interested gaze.

"Now, this," she began her advertis.e.m.e.nt, "is all of handmade lace--"

An imperative knock sounded on the door.

Every girl in the room started nervously. For auctions, while not against any college regulation, were not exactly the sort of thing that would meet with a matron's approval when indulged in to the wholesale extent of this one at Weldon House.

Perhaps that puzzled and anxious matron they had seen downstairs had followed the directions on the sign and was even now upon the threshold.

How annoying, when there were many delectable and unsold articles still lying negligently over the chair backs.

"Well," cried Gloria, in the midst of her harangue, "come in."

But the door opened only a crack and a m.u.f.fled voice came through it.

Zelda Darmeer felt a certain responsibility since it was her room, but she would literally have had to wade through six rows of husky girls to get to the door.

She stood up anxiously.

"Peggy Parsons, go and see what it is, will you, please?" she begged, her face dark with annoyance.

Peggy, by clutching at the knees and then the shoulders of the girls on either side, arose with difficulty and went out into the hall.

What she saw there made her shut the door behind her.

The matron, just as they had feared, was outside the door. But there was another woman with her. A horrid-looking woman, Peggy thought, very different from any one usually seen in campus houses.

The matron's face was troubled, and Peggy felt instinctively that it was something more than their reckless auction that was causing her uneasiness.

The other woman's expression was sullen and aggressive.

She came forward threateningly as Peggy came out, but in a moment fell back with a scowl, as the light from the window at the end of the hall streamed more clearly over the little figure.

"That's not Miss Hazeltine," she said snappishly.

"No," murmured the matron, still with that look of doubt and distaste.