friend."
"You ought to tell me," she said more gently. "How can I be your
friend if I don't know the facts? They are saying perfectly awful
things."
"Who are?"
"Why the Foote girls everybody."
"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I assure you. You see, Vivian,
you live right here in this old oyster of a town and you make mountains
out of molehills like everybody else. A girl of your intelligence ought
to know better."
She drew a great breath of relief. "Then you haven't done it?"
"Done what? What's all this mysterious talk anyhow? The prisoner has
a right to know what he's charged with before he commits himself."
The girl was silent, finding it difficult to begin.
"Well, out with it. What do they say I did?" He picked up a long dry
twig and broke it, gradually, into tiny, half -inch bits.
"They say you went to the city with a lot of the worst boys in college "
"Well? Many persons go to the city every day. That's no crime, surely.
As for 'the worst boys in college,' " he laughed scornfully "I suppose
those old ladies think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says 'darn' he's a
tough. They're mighty nice fellows, that bunch most of 'em. Got some
ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?"
"They say you drank."
"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! Well we did have a skate on that
time, I admit!" And he laughed as if this charge were but a familiar
joke.
"Why Morton Elder! I think it is adisgrace!"
"Pshaw, Vivian! You ought to have more sense. All the fellows get gay
once in a while. A college isn't a young ladies' seminary."
He reached out and got hold of her hand again, but she drew it away.
"There was something else," she said.
"What was it?" he questioned sharply. "What did they say?"
But she would not satisfy him perhaps could not.
"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make your aunt so much trouble.
They said you were suspended or expelled!"
He shrugged his big shoulders and threw away the handful of broken
twigs. "That's true enough -- I might as well admit that."
"Oh, Morton! I didn't believe it. Expelled!"
"Yes, expelled -- turned down -- thrown out -- fired! And I'm glad of
it." He leaned back against the fence and whistled very softly through
his teeth.
"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!"
He was quiet.
"But Morton what are you going to do? Won't it spoil your career?"
"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said he. "On the contrary, it will be
the making of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death of this town of
maiden ladies and 'good family men.' I'm sick of being fussed over for
ever and ever, and having wristers and mufflers knitted for me and
being told to put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this old
clamshell--this kitchen-midden of a town--and I'm going to quit it."
He stood up and stretched his long arms. "I'm going to quit it for good
and all."
The girl sat still, her hands gripping the seat on either side.
"Where are you going?" she asked in a low voice.
"I'm going west--clear out west. I've been talking with Aunt Rella about
it. Dr. Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's awful cut up, of
course. I'm sorry she feels bad but she needn't, I tell her. I shall do
better there than I ever should have here. I know a fellow that left
college his father failed and he went into business and made two
thousand dollars in a year. I always wanted to take up business you
know that!"
She knew it he had talked of it freely before they had argued and
persuaded him into the college life. She knew, too, how his aunt's
hopes all centered in him, and in his academic honors and future
professional life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a necessary evil,
which could at best be undertaken only after a "liberal education."
"When are you going," she asked at length.
"Right off to-morrow."
She gave a little gasp.
"That's what I was whippoorwilling about--I knew I'd get no other
chance to talk to you--I wanted to say good-by, you know."
The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. He dropped beside her, stole an
arm about her waist, and felt her tremble.
"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm sorry--I really am sorry to make
you feel bad."
This was too much for her, and she sobbed frankly.
"Oh, Morton! How could you! How could you! And now you've got to
go away!"
"There now--don't cry sh!--they'll hear you."
She did hush
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