Jane Allen: Right Guard | Page 7

quite steady. "Even
with this horrid tangle staring me in the face I can't help being glad to
see Wellington again. Somehow, I can't help feeling that there's been a
mistake made. I don't want to pass through the gates of Wellington with
my heart full of distrust of anyone."

"You're a dear, Jane!" was Judith's impulsive tribute. "Adrienne says
Mrs. Weatherbee may turn out to be 'the grand villain.' Let's hope she
won't. Anyway, if things can't be adjusted, wherever you go to live I'll
go, too. I won't stay at the Hall without you."
"Thank you, Judy." Jane found Judith's hand and squeezed it hard. She
had inwardly determined, however, that her roommate should not make
any such sacrifice. It would be hard to find a room anywhere on the
campus to take the place of the one the two had occupied at Madison
Hall during their freshman year.
"I'm glad there's no one on the veranda," presently commented Jane.
Having dismissed the taxicab, the three girls were now ascending the
steps of the Hall.
"Better wait here for me, girls, I'd rather have it out with Mrs.
Weatherbee alone," she counseled. "I hope I sha'n't lose my temper,"
she added ruefully.
Mentally bracing herself for the interview, Jane crossed the threshold of
the Hall and walked serenely past the living-room to the matron's office
just behind it. She was keeping a tight grip on herself and intended to
keep it, if possible. She knew from past experience how greatly Mrs.
Weatherbee's calm superiority of manner had been wont to irritate her.
Jane loathed the idea of having a dispute with the matron the moment
she entered Madison Hall. She had begun the first day of her freshman
year in such fashion. Afterward it had seemed to her that most of the
others had been stormy, as a consequence of a wrong start.
She reflected as she walked slowly down the hall that this new trouble,
was, at least, not of her making. She had the comforting knowledge that
this time she was not at fault.
CHAPTER IV
THE REASON WHY

Primed for the momentous interview, Jane was doomed to
disappointment. The matron's office was empty of its usual occupant.
"Oh, bother!" was her impatient exclamation. "I'll either have to wait
for her or go and find her. I'll go back to the veranda and tell the girls,"
she decided. "Then I'll come here again. Mrs. Weatherbee may not be
in the Hall for all I know."
"Back so soon. What did she say?"
Judith sprang eagerly from the wicker chair in which she had been
lounging.
"She is not there," returned Jane with a shadow of a frown. "I'm sorry. I
wanted to see her and get it over with. Where's Ethel?"
"Oh, she forgot that she had an appointment with Miss Howard. She
rushed off in a hurry."
"Mrs. Weatherbee has perhaps gone to make the call," suggested
Adrienne. "Why do you not ring the bell and thus summon the maid?"
"A good idea."
Standing near the door, Jane's fingers found the electric bell and
pressed it.
"Where is Mrs. Weatherbee?" she inquired of the maid who presently
came to answer the door. "Isn't Millie here any more?" she added,
noting that a stranger occupied the place of the good-natured girl who
had been at the Hall during Jane's freshman year.
"No, miss. She's gone and got married. Did you want Mrs. Weatherbee?
She's upstairs. I'll go and find her for you."
"Thank you. If you will be so kind. Please tell her Miss Allen wishes to
see her."
Disturbed in mind, though she was, Jane replied with a graciousness

she never forgot to employ in speaking to those in more humble
circumstances than herself. It was a part of the creed her democratic
father had taught her and she tried to live up to it.
"Wish me luck, girls, I'm going to my fate. Wait for me," she said
lightly and vanished into the house.
"She's taking it like a brick," Judith admiringly commented.
"Ah, yes. Jane is what mon père would call 'the good sport,'" agreed
Adrienne. "She is the strange girl; sometimes fierce like the lion over
the small troubles. When come the great misfortunes she has calm
courage."
Re-entering Mrs. Weatherbee's office, Jane seated herself resignedly to
wait for the appearance of the matron. When fifteen minutes had passed
and she was still waiting, the stock of "calm courage" attributed to her
by Adrienne, began to dwindle into nettled impatience.
She now wished that she had not given her name to the maid. It looked
as if Mrs. Weatherbee were purposely keeping her waiting. This
thought stirred afresh in Jane the old antagonism that the matron had
always aroused.
After half an hour had dragged