Chapter XVII: Snowdrifts

This year a secret ambition of Janet's was fulfilled. She was chosen president of her class, and the honor influenced her more than she realized. While she had never been a "grind," she had kept up a fairly good record, which had improved from year to year as she grew more seriously interested in her work and as her character developed. As she, with Cordelia, Lee, and Teddy had been the leaders in fun-making during their freshman year, now Janet aspired to be leader in more solid things, and she turned zealously to her work. Cordelia followed her, a close second, Lee advanced uncertainly, while Teddy plodded along showing never as brilliant work as Lee's at her best, nor as weak as Lallie Patton's. Charity worked industriously, but as Lee said, her results were wooden. They lacked fire and originality while Lee's were sometimes startling in the latter quality.

As the cool days came on, there were many of the girls who were glad to seek the cozy rooms occupied by Janet and Teddy, and scarcely a day passed but some one appeared, glad to sit before the open fire to discuss college matters or problems of life, or to engage in nonsensical talk. There were evenings, too, when bubbling messes seethed over the coals and sent up an agreeable odor. Sometimes it was panuche or fudge, again the plainer molasses candy, while on occasions there would be a grand feast, when oysters were roasted, chops broiled, or chickens cooked by suspending them by a string in front of the fire.

Several times frat meetings were held in the rooms, and so fascinating did Teddy and Janet make their accounts of these, that finally Cordelia and Lee who had held out through the mid-year's at last entered the fraternity, and added to the jollity of the meetings.

It was one evening when the days were at their shortest, that there came a tap at the door of the room where Janet sat luxuriously toasting her feet before the blaze. She wore a crimson dressing-gown, and a pair of red Turkish slippers. Her little head with its crown of dark hair showed effectively against the olive green cushions of her Morris chair. She was so entirely comfortable and content that she hesitated to reply to the rap, feeling that any interruption of her quiet would be unwelcome.

At a second tap, however, she gave a reluctant: "Come in," and the door opened.

A little figure stood there for a moment and then darted forward, crying: "Janet, Janet, I'm so glad to find you at home and alone."

"Polly! Why Polly!" Janet held out both hands, and the two rushed to meet each other. "Come right over here by the fire," said Janet. "Take off your things. Sit down here and get warm. You're going to stay and we'll have tea. When did you get here, Polly?"

"Just now. At least, we got in the day before yesterday, but only reached here this morning, and as soon as I could get away, I said I must come over here."

"Got away from whom? Miss Thurston? Are you staying with her?"

"No, I am staying at the Austins'. I left Miss Thurston over in Germany and came back with Minnie and Marion Austin and their aunt, Mrs. Fletcher, and I am making Minnie Austin a visit. Marian is there, too. She wants dreadfully to see you, but I wanted you all to myself this first time." She took Janet's hand and laid her cheek against it.

"You dear child, it is good to see you," said Janet tenderly. "Tell me all about everything. How in the world did you happen to come back with the Austin girls?"

"We met them in Italy a few weeks before we came away. You know Miss Thurston knows them and we were all together until Miss Thurston left us for Germany. Miss Thurston and Mrs. Fletcher were good comrades, so I was thrown with the girls and we became excellent friends."

"Did they know—"

"About Van?" Polly blushed prettily. "No, not at first, but after awhile they did. Once, when Minnie was ill, and I was alone with her a good deal of the time, we became very confidential, and Janet, she was lovely about it. She has smoothed away all the difficulties and has been the dearest thing you ever saw."

Janet sat down on the arm of the chair and laid her arm across Polly's shoulders. "I know just what a dear little nurse you made," she said. "I can imagine your soothing ways when one is ill, and I'll venture to say you gave up all sorts of excursions and sight-seeings for the sake of keeping Miss Austin company at some stupid hotel while the others went off skylarking. Of course she recognized your unselfish spirit. I know just as well how it happened as if I had been there, Polly Perkins."

Polly looked down and shook her head protestingly. "You always overrate me, Janet. It was something like that, but really it wasn't any sacrifice for I was tired and was getting mental indigestion from seeing so much, so I was glad of a few days' rest from picture galleries and historical wonders."

"Oh, of course. Well, then having won Minnie, what did the others do?"

"Oh, they were all right. Marian knew I was a great friend of yours, and she was ready to make friends in the beginning. Mrs. Fletcher was lovely because I was traveling with Miss Thurston whom she admires very much, so we settled it all comfortably, and when at the last minute Miss Thurston decided to go to Germany, Mrs. Fletcher was ready to take me under her wing and we all came home together. Before we had started, Minnie asked me to make her a visit and when we landed, there was a note from Mrs. Austin telling her to be sure to bring me home with her, so I accepted and am going to stay till after Christmas."

"So you had a fine trip?"

"It was beyond anything I ever dreamed of. Miss Thurston knew so well how to manage that, instead of staying only six months as I at first intended, I was able to stay eight, and I had a little surplus, enough to buy some new gowns and things. See my Paris hat, Janet, and my English tailor gown. Am I not a howling swell?"

"You surely are. What a discovery that rich uncle was. I never was so glad of anything in all my life. Is he still in the east?"

"No, he has gone back, but he told me not to worry about my wedding clothes, that he would see that I had a proper outfit, and will you believe it? He sent me an extra hundred dollars to spend on such things as I might need. Minnie was perfectly dear in helping me to choose wisely, and Miss Thurston was always finding out queer little shops where one could get beautiful things for a mere song. So, though I took scarcely anything away, I have come back with quite a wardrobe. It was the most fascinating time I ever had in all my life, yet I am glad to get back."

"Of course you are, and the reason is not very far-away," said Janet.

"One of the reasons is right here," returned Polly patting Janet's arm. "Now tell me all about everything and everybody. I suppose there are scores of new girls."

"Yes, the freshmen pervade all space, I sometimes think. Of course Fay and Juliet are not here, but Cordelia and Lee have the rooms just over these, and very few of our class have dropped out. We all have our noses to the grindstone and are working away like good fellows, being overpowered by the fact that this is our senior year."

"And you are president of the class. I'm so glad."

"Who told you that valuable piece of news?"

"I met Louise Baker on the way here, and she gave me several bits of news."

"Poor Louise, she is not having an easy time this year. She misses her brother's helping hand. I am glad she has almost finished her course."

Polly looked grave. "I wonder if there is anything I could do for her. I remember how you and she helped me out last year. What changes there have been for me, Janet, since the time I came here from Abington, a green little freshman, so ignorant of the world, and so shabby and scared."

"And so dear and lovable," added Janet. "You are neither ignorant, shabby nor scared now, are you, Polly?"

"No indeed; I have escaped from my chrysalis, but Janet, dear, I hope I haven't become vain and selfish and disappointing. I want to keep your love. So many times I have thought of what you said: 'Character first; that is lasting; the other is superficial.' I wouldn't disappoint you for the world, Janet. Please pull me back with a firm hand if you think I am taking the wrong path. You once said that prosperity spoils more persons than it helps. Don't let it spoil me."

"I don't think the amount of prosperity that has come to you is in any danger of spoiling you," said Janet indulgently. "I'll tell you when I see you in danger."

"If I could always have you near me," sighed Polly, her hand creeping into Janet's. "I can't realize that your place is not always to be here, and after this year, the college will know you no more. I wish you were only a freshman instead of a senior."

"I don't," replied Janet. "I shall be sorry enough when my college days are over, yet I do not like the idea of repeating them."

"You will come and make me long visits, won't you?"

"Oh, yes, of course," said Janet, lightly. "Now tell me what your plans are. Where shall you go when you leave the Austins'?"

"I shall go back to Abington and stay with my stepmother. I can be of some use there. I think I shall be married early in the fall. Then, oh, then, Janet, we shall have a dear little home of our own. I don't want to live in a boarding house; I want to make a home. Do you think I am too young to marry?"

"You are younger than I shall ever be," said Janet, smiling, "but in your case, Polly, I think it is a wise step. I believe in a woman's gaining all the knowledge that she can if she has the opportunity, but if the knowledge must come through such struggle and privation as you endured last year, I think it is much better to know a little less and be happier. Homemaking is the end to which all good women are best fitted, and it is the best of ambitions. That is my opinion from my long experience. I speak as a senior, my dear, not as I shall probably speak next year, when I have discovered that I don't know anything and that nobody listens to my opinions. I shall want a good long visit from you this summer, and we'll talk it all out. Don't go yet. Ted will be in directly, and we will have some tea. I always wait for her because she delights to make it. Can't you stay?"

"I'm afraid not. I promised to be back by five o'clock; and you know Mr. Austin's ideas upon the subject of punctuality. If I am three-fifths of a minute late, I shall never hear the last of it. Come and see me soon, Janet. I want you to meet Minnie."

Janet promised, and let her go, feeling that though in most ways she was the same old Polly, she had stepped into a world which was not familiar to her, and that the shabby, shy little freshman would soon blossom into a beautiful, self-possessed woman.

"But she will always keep her dear, loyal, true heart," murmured Janet.

She saw Polly less often than she expected. Their interests were no longer the same. The Austins absorbed their guest and, with Minnie and Marian, Polly was constantly flying hither and thither. Van had insisted upon announcing the engagement, so, many attentions were showered upon his lovely fiancée.

Janet who found her little world in the college, seldom met her friend outside. Becky gave a luncheon to which Janet was invited. The Austins gave a tea where Polly, radiant in a soft pink gown, was one of the receiving party, but these occasions were not satisfactory and except for occasional flying visits, the two seldom had an opportunity of meeting.

However, there were many things outside of hard work to occupy Janet. Proms and dances, dramatics and banquets given by the different classes Janet felt that she must attend in her capacity as president of her class. She enjoyed them, too, and had no desire to hunt up excuses for staying away.

"I shall never have another chance of taking them all in, or of being one of the favored circle," she said to Teddy one evening, "so I shall go whenever it is possible."

"Then this cold night doesn't stagger you?"

"No, not a bit. I can get a carriage to take me there, if I can't get there in any other way."

"Extravagance!"

"That depends upon how you look at it. If I walk, I should probably take cold, and a carriage will cost less than a doctor. Aren't you going, Ted? I'll give you a seat in my carriage."

"I'll take this red nose and this cold to no dance," said Teddy. "I shall hug the fire and shall not envy you one bit. Why don't you get Cordelia or Lee to go with you?"

"They thought we were to go together, and they have some crazy scheme of their own. They are going up to Stella Urber's with a lot of the other girls and all will start from there."

"Why didn't you go?"

"Wasn't asked. Think of the solitary grandeur in which I shall pursue my way. I hope some one will be on hand to be properly impressed when I arrive in state."

She went to her room and began to lay out the paraphernalia necessary for the occasion.

"Are you going to wear that?" asked Teddy as Janet took out a pale green evening gown from her trunk.

"Yes, might as well get the good of it. I find that if one doesn't use things when there is a chance, Fate decrees that they shall never be worn. I'll go down and telephone for a carriage before I begin to dress, then I can't change my mind."

An hour later, a very lovely Janet stood waiting for the cloak Teddy held ready to throw around her.

"I never saw you look better," said that individual. "That green is extremely becoming and brings out all your flesh tints and makes your hair look so dark and glossy. You are quite a stunning-looking girl, Janet, at your best."

"Thanks. And at my worst?"

"I'll not spoil my compliment by any supplement," laughed Teddy.

Janet gathered up her billowy skirts and ran down-stairs leaving her chum to the enjoyment of a quiet evening.

Snow had lately fallen and lay piled up in drifts along the streets and roads. Janet, leaning back in the somewhat cumbersome carriage which had been sent for her, congratulated herself that she was not compelled to march through the soft white heaps. She noticed that the mild weather succeeding the storm, would cause what was snow then to be slush to-morrow, and that even now the drifts were less compact than they had been.

The dance was given by Florence Worthington, one of the fraternity girls, and an alumna, and promised to be a very pleasant affair. Miss Worthington lived on the outskirts of the town in a fine old mansion which afforded abundant room for such an entertainment.

As the lights grew fewer along the way, Janet realized that she was approaching her destination, but when the twinkling gleams from the Worthington house were still some distance ahead came a sudden dip and a lurch of the carriage and the horses stopped short.

Presently the driver came to the door and opened it. "Sorry, lady, but we've broke down. I ain't very well acquainted with this road at night, and there's a big hole just here that I didn't bargain for."

"What are you going to do?" asked Janet in consternation.

"I guess I'll have to leave the carriage here and take the horses back to town. It's a bed break and it'll have to go to the shop."

"Gracious!" exclaimed Janet. "Have I got to stay here all alone till you get back?"

"I guess if you set in the carriage, there won't nobody bother you," said the man. "I won't be no longer than I can help, but I can't get back under an hour."

"Dear me, and I am late as it is," said Janet. A pretty situation for a lone damsel to be left in, she thought. "Why didn't you go around the other way?" she asked.

"You said you was late, and I thought I'd take this short cut. I've done it a good many times in the daytime, but at night and the snow and all makes considerable difference."

Janet considered the state of affairs for some moments, but presently her mental review was interrupted by some one's shouting: "What's the matter there?"

Janet poked her head out of the carriage door and saw a man muffled up in an overcoat, striding toward them. He stood talking to the driver who had gone a few steps to meet him.

Janet drew in her head as the traveler came up to the carriage and said: "I beg your pardon, madam, but you seem to be in a predicament. If you will accept my escort to Mr. Worthington's, I shall be happy to walk there with you. I am on my way to the dance."

"Oh, Mr. Evans," cried the relieved girl, "what a godsend you are."

"Miss Janet," exclaimed the young man. "I certainly am glad I happened to come along at this moment. Are you wearing thin shoes? Ought you to walk in this snow?"

"Of course I'll walk," said Janet, as, gathering up her robes about her, she stepped out.

"The walking is pretty bad," Mr. Evans told her. "I came this way because it is shorter, but if I had known how it was under foot, I would have gone around. Perhaps you would better permit me to stay here with you till another carriage can be sent out."

"Oh no, that will take too long. With the house just in sight we surely should be able to walk. I may get my feet wet but I can change my shoes. Florence will lend me a pair, and even if I am deprived of the dancing, I can have a good time. How lucky that you happened to be going. I didn't know you knew the Worthingtons. You needn't come back, driver. We will walk."

She started off with Mr. Evans, leaving the broken-down vehicle by the wayside. The way was surely not a pleasant one, for the soft snow penetrated her thin shoes, and as they plunged along, Janet felt her ankles getting wetter and wetter. Her petticoats she held high and it was not muddy if it was wet.

"You always appear in the guise of a ministering angel, Mr. Evans," said the girl. "I shall never forget our first encounter; it was not unlike this predicament. Have you Rosalie's quarter still?"

"Yes, it is my good luck piece. There was snow then, I remember. I have always associated you with snowflakes."

"And snowdrops?" asked Janet.

He laughed a little confusedly. "Well yes, I must acknowledge it."

"Then I have you to thank for those that came to me last spring at the dramatics. All this time I have wondered who could have sent them and never once suspected. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because you never asked me."

Janet gave a mirthful little laugh at this confession. "It is well that this is my last year at college," she said, "or I don't know into what difficulties I might lead you."

"I don't think it is at all well," said Mr. Evans.

"Why?"

"Because it isn't my last. I am likely to become a full professor, Miss Janet. It is doubtful if Professor Gaines's health will permit him to return and in case he resigns, I am informed that the chair will be mine."

"Good! I am delighted." Janet spoke heartily. "Dear me, I half envy you the prospect of living for the rest of your life in this old place."

"It is rather a concentrative life, broadening in some respects; very narrow in others. One finds his world in the college and its interests must be his."

"Yes, I know that, but they are such pleasant interests, I think. I believe I am becoming more and more fond of the intellectual life; too fond, I expect my mother will think, when I get home. Ours is a happy, pleasure-loving community. We live near enough to our small town to be included in all its festivities, and as papa is a physician, he is known far and wide, so we are always expected to keep open house and to entertain anybody who comes along. Since old Dr. Farley's death, papa's practice is mainly in the town and he contemplates removing his office there, but I hope we shall not have to go, though I don't see how it can be prevented."

"You would not care to leave your neighborhood then? You do not love your alma mater well enough to prefer her environment?"

"I'm not likely to be permitted to have a preference, for home is many miles away. Of course I love my alma mater, and if I should choose some other spot than our dear old Warwick, I'd take this very place."

"That is encouraging."

"In what way?"

"I'll tell you on Commencement day, not before. Will you save me half an hour then? I hope to know my fate by that time, and shall need either your congratulations or your condolences."

"I'll save you the half hour, if I am allowed. The world and his grandmother will be on hand to see me graduated and I don't know whether I shall be given a chance to take a long breath, but if I am permitted a moment's pause, I will notify you. I might issue a bulletin every hour so you could see how matters are going with me. It might run something like this: Eight to nine, breakfasts with family; nine to ten, receives calls from classmates; ten to twelve, packs; twelve to one, weeps; one to two, lunches; two to five, listens to orations and receives diploma; five to Six, receives congratulations, shakes hands and kisses some twenty-five girls; six to eight, dines with alumna; eight to eight-thirty, breathing-spell."

"I'm glad you allowed for the breathing-spell. I'll look out for the bulletin," said Mr. Evans; "you might pin it on the tree just in front of your house and I'll go look at it every hour."

"And in case the breathing-spell period is taken up, you can select some one beside the president of the seniors to offer you condolences or congratulations as the case may be. Of course you will be disappointed if the president should be so occupied that she cannot give you even five minutes, but allow me to tell you here in the seclusion of the Worthingtons' driveway; there are others much, much more sympathetic."

"Then if you cannot offer me your sympathies will you provide a substitute?"

"Willingly. Here we are, and alas for my pretty slippers; they feel like sponges and exude sloppiness at every step."

"You will take cold."

"No, I shall not. I shall use my mind, as Charity says."

The door was opened to them and Janet with her water-soaked shoes flew up-stairs, and sent for Florence who insisted upon giving her quinine, provided her with dry stockings and a pair of her slippers, which, though less fine than her own, allowed her to join the dancers and to enjoy herself as thoroughly as if there had been no snowdrifts along the road.