Grace Harlowes Second Year at Overton College | Page 5

our hands and faces and do our hair over again."
"All right," agreed Grace, casting a longing glance at the closed door. "We'll have to put our bags in your room, too. I don't wish to leave them in the hall for unwary students to stumble over."
"Bring them along," returned Miriam. "No one shall accuse us of inhospitality."
"I wish Mrs. Elwood were here." Grace looked worried. "We mustn't stay at Vinton's later than half-past seven o'clock. There are so many little things to be attended to, as well as the important question of our room."
Arriving at Vinton's at exactly half-past six o'clock, they found Arline Thayer and Ruth Denton waiting for them at a table on which were covers laid for six.
"We've been waiting for ages!" exclaimed Arline.
"But you said half-past six, and it is only one minute past that now," reminded Grace, showing Arline her watch.
"Of course, you are on time," laughed the little girl. "I should have explained that I'm hungry. That is why I speak in ages instead of minutes."
"Your explanation is accepted," proclaimed Elfreda, screwing her face into a startling resemblance to a fussy instructor in freshman trigonometry and using his exact words.
The ready laughter proclaimed instant recognition of the unfortunate professor.
"You can look like any one you choose, can't you, Elfreda?" said Arline admiringly. "I think your imitations of people are wonderful."
"Nothing very startling about them," remarked the stout girl lightly. "I'd give all my ability to make faces to be able to sing even 'America' through once and keep on the key. I can't sing and never could. When I was a little girl in school the teachers never would let me sing with the rest of the children, because I led them all off the key. It was very nice at the beginning of the term, and I sang with the other children anywhere from once to half a dozen times, never longer than that. I had the strongest voice in the room and whatever note I sang the rest of the children sang. It was dreadful," finished Elfreda reminiscently.
"It must have been," agreed Miriam Nesbit. "Can you remember how you looked when you were little, Elfreda?"
"I don't have to tax my brain to remember," answered Elfreda. "Ma has photographs of me at every age from six months up to date. To satisfy your curiosity, however," her face hardened until it took on the stony expression of the new student who had locked Grace out of her room, "I will state that--"
"The Anarchist! the Anarchist!" exclaimed Ruth and Miriam together.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Ruth Denton.
"About the Anarchist," teased Miriam. "Wait until you see her."
"You have seen her," laughed Grace. "Elfreda just imitated her to perfection." Thereupon Grace related their recent unpleasant experience to Arline and Ruth.
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Arline.
"We will see Mrs. Elwood as soon as we return to Wayne Hall, and ask her to gently, but firmly, request the Anarchist to move elsewhere."
"Why do you call her the Anarchist?" asked Arline.
"Elfreda, please repeat your imitation," requested Miriam, her black eyes sparkling with fun.
Elfreda complied obediently.
"You understand now, don't you?" laughed Grace.
"I should be very stupid if I didn't," declared Arline.
"Of course she's dark, with eyebrows an inch wide. You can't expect me to give an imitation of anything like that," apologized Elfreda.
"I think I should recognize her on sight," smiled Ruth Denton.
"We are miles off our original subject," remarked Grace. "Elfreda hasn't told us how she looked as a child."
"All right. I'll tell you now," volunteered J. Elfreda graciously. "I had round, staring blue eyes and a fat face. I wore my hair down my back in curls--that is, when it was done up on curlers the night before--and it was almost tow color. I had red cheeks and was ashamed of them, and my stocky, square-shouldered figure was anything but sylphlike. I was not beautiful, but I was very well satisfied with myself, and to call me 'Fatty' was to offer me deadly insult. That is about as much as I can remember," finished the stout girl.
"Really, Elfreda, while you were describing yourself I could fairly see you," smiled Arline.
"Now it's your turn," reminded Elfreda. "I imagine you were a cunning little girl."
Arline flushed at the implied compliment. "Father used to call me 'Daffydowndilly,'" she began. "My hair was much lighter than it is now, but it has always been curly. I am afraid I used to be very vain, for I loved to stand and smile at myself in the mirror simply because I liked my yellow curls and was fascinated with my own smile. No one told me I was vain, for Mother died when I was a baby, and even my governess laughed to see me worship my own reflection.