"Pray, why not?" with a show of indignation.

"We never talk of making money at Wellington," said Marian, when a group of pa.s.sing girls faded out of earshot.

"I don't see why not. I am sure less important things are talked of,"

persisted the tantalizing Dolorez.

"But, Dol, you don't seem to understand. We all have a rating here, and we could not get here without it. We are not in the money-making cla.s.s-not that such are inferior to us," Marian hastened to add, "but because our social standing is supposed to be fixed outside of trade."

A grating, mocking laugh followed this explanation. Evidently Dolorez Vincez had no such notion of correct social standing. She was plainly getting on Marian's nerves.

"I hope we will not get into trouble on account of to-night's affair,"

Marian said. "I really begin to fear trouble," she sighed again.

Another mocking t.i.tter answered this.

"Good thing then, Molly, that you have me to fall back on. Cold feet are very unhealthy."

Even the callous Marian shrank away from that. Dolorez was forgetting herself and "reverting to type," as Marian expressed it.

Jane and Judith talked little, but thought much. They had detached themselves from the more noisy element, with a determination to get Helen and escort her safely to her little house with d.i.c.key, and Weasie; this was their ulterior motive; they also wanted quiet.

Judith was strong for Helen, and her enthusiasm grew as the moments pa.s.sed. They waited for some time at the stage door, ran around to all other doors (Jane did, Judith still limped) yet Helen had not been discovered. Just now Jane was peeping in a window, through which a torn shade allowed a view of the interior. This was the annex used for dressing.

"Where can she be?" asked Jane again.

"Didn't d.i.c.key see her?" questioned Judith.

"Not since she left the stage door. She said she was going over here to get her things."

"May be home in bed by now. Good sense if she is."

"I hardly think so. Wait! I'll slip in through the window. The door is locked."

Judith resigned herself to an old stump while Jane "slipped in." She waited some moments then knocked for Jane.

"Can't lose her as well," commented the tired junior. "Jane, why don't you come along?" she called lightly.

Then Jane opened the door. She had an arm around a shrinking little form, that even under the heavy cloak could be seen to tremble.

"It's only Judith," whispered Jane. "Come on, Helen. I won't let anyone see you. You are just too scared to speak. Poor little dear." Judith was too surprised to speak. Also she sensed Helen had one of her nervous spells, and very prudently Judith wrapt her arm around the shaking figure, and together the three trudged along to the Ivy Nook, the campus house of Helen's lodgings.

CHAPTER XXIV-A CLUE TO THE MYSTERY

"Mrs. Weatherbee would like to see you, Miss Allen." This summons from Molly the hall girl, aroused Jane from a somewhat disconnected reverie-if deep thinking on a dark subject might be so termed. Jane was occupied with Marian and Dolorez, and wondering what they had done to that bunch of roses, now known to have been contributed by them to Helen at the Barn Swifts' playlet. What was written on that tiny card that worked such unpleasant mischief?

"Very well, Molly. I shall go to the office at once," replied Jane, rousing herself and suiting her action to the words.

Mrs. Weatherbee's scholarly face was inscrutable, and gave no hint of the purport of her call for Jane. She smiled, but she always did that, and she was very cordial, but likewise, she was always that.

Jane was naturally apprehensive when she returned the smile and took the chair offered.

"Miss Allen, I am somewhat disturbed," began the directress. "Since the beginning of the term I have endeavored to keep my official hands off the girls' affairs, except as they relate directly to the school work, but I wonder now, if that has not been somewhat of a mistake."

"I hope that I have not been instrumental in effecting that regime, Mrs. Weatherbee, if it has been a mistake," Jane quickly offered.

"Oh, no, not that. I liked your spirit when you took the cla.s.s presidency, and pledged your efforts to avoid the usual squabbles getting into the hands of the faculty; but even so good a plan may be abused."

Jane wanted to plunge into the heart of the trouble, whatever it might be, at once. This being polite and beating around the bush, always vexed her. But it was the way with the faculty.

"May I know to what you refer, Mrs. Weatherbee?" Jane asked in the most respectful tone.

"Yes, my dear, certainly. I have brought you here to tell you that precisely." She smoothed out the blotter and patted a few papers-anything, Jane thought, to kill time.

Mrs. Weatherbee asked finally, "What do you know about this plan of Marian Seaton's and Dolorez Vincez to canva.s.s the college to get customers for the so-called beauty shop someone is opening at the very gate of our grounds?"

"Why, Mrs. Weatherbee! I know absolutely nothing about it. In fact, I have not even heard it mentioned before!" Jane almost gasped.

"I am glad to hear you say so. I felt you wouldn't have allowed such an unheard of thing to get hold without coming to me."

"Indeed, I would not," said Jane seriously. She still gasped.

"As you are cla.s.s president, I naturally asked you first, as we always feel it better to allow the girls a chance to develop their own plans, where such a privilege is possible. But to have young ladies actually go about the rooms, and get names for beauty parlors!"

The contempt in Mrs. Weatherbee's voice spoke louder than did her words. She was plainly very much "disturbed" as she had previously admitted.

"I should think all the old cla.s.s girls would be well aware that the matter of canva.s.sing is strictly prohibited," Jane said. "And for such a thing as a beauty parlor!" Here she, too, felt the situation beyond words. She seemed to vision the girls running out of the grounds at every recreation to get another daub of enamel, or a quick dip of hair dye. What a situation such an opportunity would precipitate! Also the fact that Dolorez' black hair was streaked, and that her high color was not always reliable, flashed across Jane's mind. This had been Dolorez'

doings, she felt convinced.

"I agree with you," Mrs. Weatherbee replied. "No girl in Wellington for any length of time could have committed such an error unconsciously. I therefore feel that Miss Vincez must be more to blame than Miss Seaton."

"I now recall," Jane amended, "hearing some talk about making a lot of money (Dolorez had said a 'pot of money') but I had no idea to what this referred."

"Yes, they had it all settled. Little slips of paper were typewritten and the girls pledged-actually pledged, to take the so-called treatments. And they were to pay a part of the charge in advance to start the parlor. Did you ever hear of anything so absurd?"

Jane shook her head to deny ever having heard of anything so absurd.

She was thinking too rapidly to trust herself to words.

"Of course, I shall have to bring both girls before the board," said Mrs. Weatherbee. "I am convinced that they alone are to blame."

"Might it be possible," suggested Jane, "that Dolorez is ignorant of our rules as regards business?"

"I think not. She has simply wound Miss Seaton around her fingers. Miss Vincez is a girl of unusual experience. Her standing was investigated, but I am afraid we allowed personal influence to overcome good judgment. Miss Vincez was formerly a pupil-teacher at Blindwood."

"A pupil-teacher!" exclaimed Jane. "Then that accounts for her basketball skill?"