Chapter VIII: Off the Track

THERE was much curiosity on the part of all the girls to see what manner of man the new instructor would prove to be. That he was quiet and shy, a little awkward, not good-looking but with a fine intellectual face, they discovered at their first interview. Later on, Cordelia remarked that she had tested his powers of sarcasm and had not found them wanting. Janet announced that he was positively brilliant when he warmed up to a subject in which he was interested, and Lee declared that he had a voice that she would go out of her way to listen to.

"He certainly has the faculty of making one scare up an appearance of interest in all those dreadful chemical things in the laboratory," said Janet, "and I find myself possessed with a keenness in searching out possible results of ill-smelling experiments which I never supposed I could develop. I may make a brilliant record in chemistry yet, and astonish you all by the time I have concluded the course."

The others laughed. "You'll have to begin at once then," said Cordelia. "We have not been impressed by your brilliancy thus far."

As Janet was notoriously negligent in this special study, the remark was not without point.

"Just wait and see," returned Janet. "I'd begin now if I had not promised to go out to the golf club with Rosalie."

"What's going on? It's too cold to play golf."

"Nothing is going on, but Rosalie thought it would be rather nice and cozy to get a cup of tea there, and some of those good little cakes they serve. We can sit before that big open fire and swop stories, if we can't do anything else. Rosalie has not seen the new instructor, for example, for you know she wasn't here to-day. I can tell her all about him. I shall make him out such a piece of perfection that she'll be sorry she cut classes."

"Mark, the perfect man," said Lee with the absent expression her face always wore when she tried to be funny.

"That's good, Lee," said Cordelia. "Let us hope that it can also be said, 'the end of that man is peace.' I'm afraid it's not likely to be if he continues to instruct in this college."

"Why, how well you know your Bible," said Lee. "There's some excuse for my quotations when I am a clergyman's daughter, but I didn't expect it of you, Cordelia."

"I have a grandmother," said Cordelia concisely.

"Well," said Janet, gathering up her books, "I must go. If I happen to come across the perfect man, I'll tell him all the nice things you have been saying about him."

"Yes, we know how much you will," jeered Lee, returning to her books.

Janet sauntered through the corridor stopping, before she entered her room, to speak to one or two of the girls she knew, and tossed her books on the divan.

"I am going to take an afternoon off, Ted," she said. "I promised Rosalie I'd go out to Hilltop with her this afternoon. Marian Austin is going, too. Don't say anything about it."

"And why not?" asked Teddy, looking up from her work.

"Because they will canvas the thing and talk it threadbare, so I thought I wouldn't give them the chance. Rosalie and I are going to call on Marian first, and invite her to go to the club with us."

"Suppose you should encounter 'the hero.'"

"Oh, but I shall not, because he is off somewhere. I took good care to learn that fact before I promised to go. Anyhow, he wouldn't know me for he saw only the lower part of my face, and probably has forgotten how that looked by this time. However, I don't think I should have had the courage to go to that house again but for one thing."

"And what's that?"

"I couldn't resist the temptation of seeing how that room looks, after sitting there for nearly an hour."

"I must say that is a temptation," said Teddy appreciatively.

Janet settled her hat and went out. An hour later she was sitting placidly upon the sofa where, as a blindfolded freshman, she had sat with Teddy nearly a year before.

"It all sounds very familiar," she confided to Rosalie, "but I miss the roses. They have carnations to-day instead."

Then Marian appeared, and the call resolved itself into a commonplace incident.

Marian enthusiastically accepted the invitation to visit Hilltop. "I have been dying to go there," she said, "but something has always prevented."

"It's the dearest place," Janet told her. "It is right on top of a hill, with such a lovely view of the surrounding country from the windows. I hope you don't mind a little walk, for it is beyond the terminus of the car line."

"I love to walk," said Marian, nothing daunted.

"We can have a cup of tea and a little chat before it gets dark," said Rosalie, "but we must start at once."

They went forth, and within the hour were trudging across the fields and up the hill toward the club house, a picturesque low building surrounded by porches, and facing west.

"It is later than I thought," said Rosalie with a glance at the gray sky. "It is cloudy, and the afternoons are short enough on a bright day."

There were but few in the big low-celled room where a great fire was burning in the huge fireplace, and the three girls seated themselves where they could watch the dancing flames, sip their tea, and eat their cakes. A big collie dog made friends with them and, while they enjoyed their tea, sat on his haunches with his nose in Janet's lap and his soft eyes fixed upon her face.

"That's just the way with Janet," said Rosalie; "all the dumb creatures immediately know by instinct when she is around and come shying up to her. They know who is fond of them. She stops to pet every dissipated old cat she sees on the streets, and every stray dog in the neighborhood follows her home and sits howling after her on the steps of Hopper Hall till the janitor drives him away."

Janet laughed. "It isn't quite so bad as that, though I do like beasties, don't I, doggie?" She patted the collie's silky head, and he responded by laying his paw in her lap.

They lingered till nearly every one had gone, and then started forth to find it darker than they supposed, and the way rather difficult with bunkers and wires in the path. But they reached the terminus in time to see the light of an approaching car bearing down toward them.

"Just in time," said Rosalie cheerfully. "We shall get back in comfortable time for dinner."

The car came on with a rush, down grade, but with such force as to cause it to go scudding off the track some yards beyond.

"There!" exclaimed the conductor, "we're in for it."

"Why, what's the matter?" inquired the girls, crowding up.

"Broken the switch. Have to send back for a wrecking car."

"Gracious!" exclaimed Rosalie. "How long will it take?"

"Oh an hour or two before we get it all right again," said the man, watching the form of the motorman who was putting off down the road as fast as he could travel.

The girls looked at each other; and, in spite of the dimness, each could read consternation on the faces of the others.

"We might walk," suggested Marian.

"It is too dark and too far," returned Rosalie. She turned to the conductor again. "Is there any one around who could go up to the club and telephone for us?"

"I would," said the man, "but I can't leave this here car."

Rosalie looked back over the way they had just come; it seemed very dark, and a long distance to the lights twinkling from the club house.

"There's a young man inside," said the conductor; "maybe he'd go to accommodate you."

Rosalie gathered up her skirts and entered the car. By the glow of the little stove that heated it, she saw the figure of a young man seated by the fire.

"Would you take a telephone message to Hilltop Club for me?" she asked. "I will give you twenty-five cents if you will." She had made a quick survey of the man, and had decided that his rather rough attire gave her an excuse for believing that he would not refuse the money. "You can say that you want to use the telephone for Miss Trent," she went on. "I would like you to call up Buckley's stables, and ask them to send us a carriage right away. We must get back to town, and this car may not go for an hour yet. There is only one other on this route, and they wait till this gets back before it starts. They run so few in winter time, you see."

The young man had arisen when she came in. "I shall be very glad to go for you, miss," he said.

Rosalie opened her purse and handed him a silver quarter.

He gently waved it back. "I am very glad to go," he said. "It is nothing. I would much rather be walking than be sitting still waiting."

"Oh, but you must take it," insisted Rosalie. "I shall not feel satisfied unless you do. I should not be willing to have any stranger do an errand like that for nothing."

In the darkness, she could not see the smile with which the young man accepted the silver piece which she pressed upon him.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and immediately left the car.

Rosalie followed him. "You understand," she said, "that I want the carriage from Buckley's to come to the end of the line as soon as possible?"

He lifted his hat saying, "Very well, miss," and walked away.

"You'd better come inside, girls," said Rosalie. "It is warm in the car and as cold as charity outside, and I do believe it is beginning to snow. You mustn't stay out there another minute! I've sent for a carriage."

"You have? How did you send?" asked Janet.

"I found a young man who was willing to go to the club and telephone to the stable for me. I hope he'll not decide to pocket my twenty-five cents and then not go near the club."

The three girls entered and warmed themselves by the fire. They seemed to be the only passengers for this late trip, unless the young man should return.

"We may have a long wait," said Rosalie, "so we may as well make ourselves comfortable. What an unlucky thing to happen. I am afraid, Miss Austin, that you will have an uncomfortable memory of your first visit to Hilltop."

"Oh, I don't mind in the least," said Marian. "It is quite an adventure, and I do love anything out of the common, don't you? So long as we keep warm, it is all right. We're not hungry after the cakes and tea, so we can stand this for hours yet."

"I'd like it better if it were not dark," said Janet. "Hark, I hear wheels."

"And I see a light," said Marian.

"It can't be the carriage so soon," declared Rosalie.

"It isn't the carriage, but it is a carriage," said Janet peering out of the window, "and it is coming the other way. There, it has stopped."

Presently a big man, in a heavy overcoat powdered with snow, came stamping in. He was followed by a little old woman bundled up in a blanket shawl. "How soon does this car start?" asked the man of the conductor, who likewise had taken a seat inside.

"Ask me something easy," was the answer. "We've got to wait for the wrecking car. Sometimes it's an hour; sometimes it's two. Ye never can tell."

"Humph! We'll have to make the best of it, Lyddy," said the big man turning to his wife. "Joe's in a hurry to get back, and we'll jest have to wait to get home." He let himself down on the seat with a great grunt, and the little woman slipped into a place beside him.

The girls talked in undertones while the big man questioned the conductor and made remarks not flattering to the motor man.

After a time the car door opened again, and a meek looking countryman entered carrying a lantern. "Jest as well wait inside," he remarked apologetically, setting down his lantern, and brushing the snow from his coat sleeves. "Got to meet my two gals, comin' up on the six-thirty car."

"Dear me, it must be getting very late," said Rosalie. "I am getting uneasy. If that young man went right to the club, the carriage ought to be here by this time. Do you know anything about that young man I sent?" she asked the conductor.

"No, miss. He got on just a piece down the road, and said he was going back to town. I don't know as I ever saw him before, but he looked respectable."

"You didn't give him no money, did you?" asked the big man listening interestedly to the conversation, and glad to have a new topic developed.

"Why, yes," said Rosalie hesitatingly. "I gave him twenty-five cents."

"You did? Well, you ain't likely to see him nor your money again. There's a good bit of sharpers ready to make what they can offen any one," said the big man with a chuckle, hitching himself further along. "I'll bet you don't see him again. What do you bet, Lyddy?" he said turning to his wife.

"Why, I don't know, Cyrus," she replied timidly.

"Oh, well, just bet to make it lively," he said. "We've got to do something to keep up our spirits. I say he didn't go and that he won't come back."

"Then I'll say he did," returned his wife with an air of having done a rather rash thing.

"What do you say?" asked the big man of the conductor.

"I say he did go. He looked honest," said the conductor.

"You bet with me, don't you?" The big man nodded to Rosalie, who laughed and replied: "Yes, I say he didn't go."

"And the other young ladies?"

"I say he did," Janet told him.

"And I believe he didn't," Marian decided.

"What do you say?" The big man addressed the countryman who sat where his lantern cast a glow upon his sharp narrow face.

The countryman was cautious, from the battered hat upon his head to his thick hide boots. He was not one to commit himself. His caution was ingrained, and even in such a question as this, he refused to become involved. He didn't know; he couldn't say. He guessed he wouldn't vote either way.

"Then it's a tie," decided the big man, hitching himself still nearer the fire. "I guess you young ladies will find you have got to make your trip back to town on this car, for I guess you ain't going to see no carriage this night."

Rosalie sighed, but Janet whispered, "I believe the carriage will come yet. What did your messenger look like?"

"I couldn't see his face very well," Rosalie told her. "His clothes were rather rough, but his voice was pleasant, the voice of a gentleman. I might have thought him one, if he hadn't said 'yes, miss,' and 'no, miss.'"

Janet laughed. "That's no sign. I've heard lots of men say that. Virginians almost always do, and some of the Maryland men, especially those from the lower counties, and you hear it from men of the other Southern States."

"Oh, dear, suppose he should be a gentleman. Now, I think of it, he talked like a Southerner."

"If he was, he took your message and will come back and report."

Just then the door opened, and the light of the countryman's lantern fell upon the figure of a young man with face glowing from the sharp air, and with clothing snow-sprinkled. He looked around the car from one to another, then he addressed Rosalie. "Your carriage will be here soon, I hope. They promised to send one as soon as possible, but they were all out when I gave the order."

"Oh, thank you," said Rosalie struggling between a desire to laugh and a feeling of self-reproach.

Janet clutched her spasmodically, and Rosalie turned to see, by the dim light, confusion and surprise upon her face.

"What's the matter?" she whispered, as the young man took a seat at the further end of the car.

Janet moved up to the other extreme end and Rosalie followed her.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"Don't you know?" said Janet. "Don't you know? It is Mark, the perfect man."

Rosalie turned her head quickly and as quickly looked away. "Oh, dear, what have I done?" she said in distress. "I'll have to drop chemistry, that is clear."

Janet began to laugh. "I am going over to speak to him."

"I think you are heartless," said Rosalie. "Perhaps he will forget the name I gave him, and if he never has to encounter me in the lecture room of the laboratory, he may never know. For pity's sake don't do anything to make him remember, Janet."

"Oh, but he will, anyhow, and I think it is much better to make a joke of it, and then invite him to ride home with us."

"Janet Ferguson!"

"Yes, certainly. I think that would be a piece of diplomacy. It would show our gracious appreciation of his services and give you a chance to explain."

And before Rosalie could say another word, Janet had crossed the car and had seated herself by the side of Mr. Evans.

"I don't suppose I could expect you to remember one sophomore among so many, even in broad daylight, Mr. Evans," she began, "but as I happen to sit in Bains II two or three times a week, and as I remember you only too well, I thought I would speak to a companion in misery."

The young man smiled. "It is rather a dubious compliment to be remembered in the way your words suggest," he said a little awkwardly. "I do remember your face, but not your name."

"I am Janet Ferguson. I am glad you remember me by my face and not by my work. My friend, Miss Trent, is covered with confusion because in the dark, she offered you a reward, so I want you to reassure her or she will have to drop out of chemistry, from sheer mortification. We all want you to give us your protecting presence back to town, so won't you accept a seat in the carriage you were so good as to order?"

"I shall be most happy," returned Mr. Evans.

"There it is now," cried Janet. "I see two lights bobbing along toward us; they must be carriage lamps."

"I will go and hail it," said Mr. Evans, hastily beating a retreat.

Janet made her way to the other end of the car. "The carriage has come, girls," she said, "and Mr. Evans is going to see us safely home in it."

The big man grinned as Rosalie passed him. "We lost our bet, didn't we?" he said.

Rosalie rushed on without saying a word, and was glad that the darkness prevented any one's observing her hot cheeks.

Mr. Evans gravely handed the trio into the carriage, and then Janet presented him to her friends. Rosalie faltered out some sort of apology, and Mr. Evans, now less shy with three girls than with a single one or with a whole class, laughed.

"I knew you thought me a country bumpkin, and so I am," he said.

"But it was so dark," returned Rosalie.

"Quite a sufficient excuse for any sort of mistake," agreed the young man. "For all that, there have been times in my life when I might have been glad enough to take your quarter, though now—"

"No quarter?" cried Janet. "Has it got to come to sword's points, Mr. Evans? I thought you had forgiven Miss Trent."

They all laughed, and Rosalie said: "Please give it back to me."

"On the whole," returned the young man, "I think that I shall keep it, if you don't mind."

"No," murmured Rosalie, "I don't mind, but I should like to feel that you don't mind either."

"Oh, dear, no," returned Mr. Evans. "It has given me a chance of meeting you young ladies in this very informal way, and I should like a souvenir of my first adventure in this college town. I appreciate all that comes to me in that way, I can assure you. I also appreciate your kindness in offering me a place in your carriage, for I should have had either a long cold walk, or a very stupid wait, and, to tell you the truth, I am desperately hungry and want my dinner. I started out for a walk and thought I would ride back on the hapless car. It is an ill wind, you know."

"That's a very nice way to put it," said Janet. "I am rather glad of the adventure myself. One needs them at college, and I have had one or two."

"Yes, so say we all of us," remarked Rosalie. "What was your college, Mr. Evans?"

"The old University of Virginia first, then the Johns Hopkins. I took a post-graduate course at the latter place."

"Then are you from Maryland or Virginia?"

"From neither. I am from North Carolina."

"Oh," said Janet in a satisfied tone, "I said you must be from one of the Southern States."

"You knew my accent?"

"It wasn't that altogether."

"What then?"

"It was because no one but a Southern man would say 'yes, miss,' and 'no, miss,' as you do."

"I am afraid that is a provincialism that one seldom hears in the cities."

"But I like it," protested Janet. "I think that courtesy and chivalry are on the decrease. I think it is a great pity that no one seems to have time or to care to keep up the beautiful old politeness of our grandfathers."

"And our grandmothers," put in Mr. Evans.

"Now, you make my conscience smart again, Mr. Evans," said Rosalie.

"There is no occasion for any one's conscience to smart because she has been both polite and generous," said Mr. Evans gallantly. "Do you stop here? Then our pleasant drive is over. I shall feel hereafter that I have at least three friends in this stranger town, and that two of my students are not unknown to me."

"And now that it is a friend to whom we must account for our work, we shall struggle doubly hard with all those H O's and things," said Janet.

They parted in gay good humor, and it was a laughing, blushing, chattering trio that threw aside their hats in Rosalie's room, while no girls could have been more pleased with an adventure.