Preface of Little Colonel's Trum, Mary Ware. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Little Colonel's Trum, Mary Ware, by Annie Fellows Johnston. Preface, dear boys and girls who are old friends of the Little Colonel. When I finished the eighth volume of Little Colonel's stories, The Maid of Honor, I thought I had reached the end of the series. But such a flood of letters came pouring in demanding to know what happened next that I could not ignore such a plea. And in consequence, The Little Colonel's night came riding by. But even with Lloyd married and living happily ever after, her friends were not satisfied. You skipped, they complained by the hundreds. You never told what happened between the time of her engagement and the wedding, and you never told what happened to Betty and Joyce and Mary and Phil and all the rest of them. Even if you haven't time for another book, couldn't you just please write me a little letter and satisfy my curiosity about each character? Of course I couldn't begin granting all those requests. And finally, I was persuaded it would be easier to answer your questions with a new book. So here's Mary Ware, taking up the thread of the story at the first of the skipped places. The time is September, the same September that Betty went away to Warwick Hall to teach, and Lloyd began to prepare for her debut in Louisville. Now this volume covers only one short year, so of course it cannot tell you all you want to know. But if you are disappointed because it does not take you to the final milestone, remember that having gone that far, it would have been the end of all our journeying together. And we have it from Artusetala himself, that best beloved of travelers, for whom in a far island of the sea was dug a road to last forever, that to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive. AFJ End of Preface Chapter 1 of Little Colonel's Trum, Mary Ware This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Little Colonel's Trum, Mary Ware, by Annie Fellows Johnston Mary enters Warwick. The bus running between Warwick Hall Station and Warwick Hall School drew up at the door of the great castle-like building, with as grand a flourish as if it carried the entire senior class, and deposited one lone passenger upon the steps. As it was several days before the opening of the fall term, no peoples were expected so soon, but few of the teachers had returned. There was no one to see the imposing arrival of the little freshman except the butler, who had been drawn to the front window by the sound of wheels. It devolved on him to answer the knocker this afternoon. In the general confusion of house-cleaning, the man who attended the door had been sent upstairs to hang curtains. That thing newcomer was the prospective pupil, Hawkinsaw at a glance. He had not been in Madame Charlie's service all these years without learning a few things. That she was over-odd by the magnificence of her surroundings, he readily guessed, for she made no movement towards the knocker, only stood and looked timidly up at the massive portal, and then across the lawn, where a line of haughty peacocks stood, drawn up, in gorgeous dress parade on the highest terrace. She's feeling like a cat in a strange garret, said the butler to himself with a grin. It was a matter of personal pride with him when strangers seemed dually impressed by the grandeur of the aristocratic old manor house, now used as a boarding-school. It was a personal front when they were not. Needless to say, his dignity had suffered much at the hands of American schoolgirls, and although this one seemed impressed by her surroundings almost to the point of panic, he eyed her suspiciously. Eva knows they lose their shine as soon enough, he said under his breath. She came to school aerials on the doorstep till she gets the courage to knock. It'll do her good. But she waited so long that he began to grow uneasy. After that first glance, she had turned her back on the door as if she repented coming, and, satchel in hand, stood hesitating on the top step, ready for flight. At least that is the way Hawkins interpreted her attitude. He could not see her face. It was a plain little face, sunburned as a gypsy's, with a generous sprinkling of freckles on her inquisitive nose. But it was a lovable face, happy and eager, with a sweet mouth and alert grey eyes that seemed to see the bottom of everything. Sometimes its expression made it almost beautiful. This was one of the times. But she was not gazing regretfully after the departed bus as Hawkins surmised, but with a pleasure so keen that it fairly made her catch her breath. She was looking at the strange landscape and recognizing places here and there, made familiar by Kodak pictures and the enthusiastic descriptions of old pupils. There was a long flight of marble steps leading down the stately terraces to the river, the beautiful willow-fringed Potomac. There was the progola overhung with Abbasford ivy and the wonderful old garden with the sundial and the rata dendrons from Killarney.  Hawkins, from his peephole through one of the mullian sidelights of the great entrance, to which he had now advanced, saw the shiver, and, misinterpreting it, suddenly opened the door. It gave her such a start, so absorbed as she ran into surroundings, that she almost toppled down the steps. But the next instant it was Hawkins who was having the start. Unabashed by his pompous manner, her keen gray eyes swept him one quick look from his sphinx-like face to his massive shoe-buckles, as if she had been given some strange botanical specimen to label and classify. Without an instant's hesitation, she exclaimed in the tone of one making a delightful discovery. Why, it's Hawkins! It was positively uncanny to the man that the stranger on whom he had never laid eyes before should call him by name. He wondered if she were one of those newfangled mind-readers he had been hearing so much about. It was also upsetting to find that he had been mistaken about her delay in knocking. There was anything but timidity in the grand air with which she gave him her card, saying, Announce me to Madame Tartley, Hawkins. She was a plump little body, ill-adapted to stately airs and graces, but she had been rehearsing this entrance mentally for days, and she swept into the reception room as if she were the daughter of a duke. There, she said to herself, as the portiers dropped behind her, I hope he was properly impressed. Then, catching sight of her reflection in the long mirror opposite, she wilted into an attitude of abject despair. A loop of milliner's wire, from which the ribbon had slipped, stood up stiff and straight in the bow on her hat. She proceeded to put it back in place with anxious pats and touches, exclaiming in an anguished whisper. Oh, why is it that whenever I feel particularly imposing and queen-annish inside, I always look so disheveled and merry-annish outside? Here's my hat cocked over one eye and my hair straggling out in wisps like a crazy thing. I wonder what Hawkins thought. Hawkins, on his way upstairs, was spelling out the name of the card he carried. Miss Mary Ware, Phoenix, Arizona. Hmph! was his mental exclamation. From one of the jumping half-places. Then his mind reverted to the several detective tales that made up his knowledge of the far west. Hope she doesn't carry a gun in and on a person. Now that the first ordeal was over and she was safely inside the doors of Warwick Hall, the new people braced herself for the next one, the meeting with Madame Charlie. She wouldn't have been quite so nervous over it if she had been sure of a welcome, but the catalogue stated distinctly that no peoples could be received before the fifteenth of September and this was only the twelfth. She had the best of reasons for coming ahead of time and was sure that Madame Charlie would make an exception in her case when once the matter was properly explained. The friends in whose care she had travelled from Phoenix had expected to spend several days in Washington, sight-seeing, and she was to have seen their guests until the opening of school, but a telegram met them calling them immediately to Boston. She couldn't stay alone at a strange hotel, she knew no one in the entire city, and there was no course open to her but to come on to school. It was easy enough for her to see why she might not be welcome. There was a vigorous washing of windows going on over the whole establishment, a sound of carpenters in the background and the smell of fresh paint and furniture polish to the fore. Everything was out of its usual orbit in the process of getting ready for the opening day. Lying awake the night before in the upper berth of the hot Pullman car, Mary had carefully planned her little speech of explanation and had rehearsed a dozen times since. But now her heart was beating so fast and her throat was so dry, she knew the words would stick at the very time she needed them the most. Feeling as if she were about to have a tooth pulled, she sank into a large upholstered rocking chair to wait. It tipped back so far that her toes could not reach the floor and she sprang out again in a hurry. One could never feel at ease in an infantile position like that. Then she tried a straight chair, imitating the pose of a majestic gentlewoman in one of the portraits on the paneled wall. It was one of Madame's grand ancestors she conjectured. A glance into the tell-tale mirror made her sigh despairingly again. She was not built on majestic lines herself. No matter how queenly and imposing she might feel in that attitude, she only looked ridiculously stiff. Once more she changed her seat, flouncing down on a low sofa and struggling for a graceful position with one elbow leaning on a huge silk cushion. It was in all seriousness as she made these changes, realizing that she could not appear at her best unless she felt at ease. But the humor of the situation was not lost on her. An amused smile dimpled her face as she gave the sofa cushion a thump and once more changed her seat. I'm worse than Goldilocks trying all the chairs of the three bears, but that's too loppy. She whisked into a fourth seat, this time opposite the portiers. To her consternation the parted curtains revealed an appalling fact. Not only could the winding stairway be seen from where she sat, but the entire interior of the reception room must be equally visible to anyone coming down the steps. The dignified white-haired personage now on the bottom step must have seen every move she made as she darted around the room trying the chairs in turn. The faint gleam of suppressed amusement on Madame Charlie's face as she entered confirmed the girl's fears. It was unthinkable that such a mortifying situation could go unexplained, yet for a moment after Madame's courteous greeting Mary stood tongue-tied.  Oh, I wish you could change places with me for just five minutes. Then you'd know how it feels to always put your worst foot first and make a mess of everything. Madame Charlie had welcomed many types of girls to her school and was familiar with every shade of embarrassment, but she had never been greeted with quite such an outburst as this. Desperate to make herself understood, Mary began in the middle of her carefully planned speech and breathlessly explained backward as to why she had arrived at this inopportune time. The explanation was so characteristic of her, so heartfelt and utterly honest, that it revealed far more than she intended and opened a wide door into Madame's sympathies. As she stood looking down at the girl with grave kind eyes, Mary suddenly became aware of a strangely comforting thing. This was not an awesome personage, but a dear, adorable being who could understand. The discovery made the second part of her explanation easier. She plunged into it headlong as soon as they receded. You see, I've heard so much about Hawkins and the way he sometimes confuses the new girls with his grand London heirs till the two rattle to eat, that it made up my mind that even if I am in Arizona, I'd make him think that I've always dwelt in marble halls with vassals and serfs at my side. I thought I was making a perfectly regal entrance till I looked into the mirror and saw how dilapidated I was after my long journey. It took all the heart out of me and made me dreadfully nervous about meeting you. I was trying to get into an easy attitude that would make me feel more self-possessed when you came down. That is why I was experimenting with all the sofas and chairs. Oh, you have no idea how the Walton girls in Lloyd Sherman and Betty Lewis have talked about you. She went unhurriedly, eager to justify herself. They made me feel that you were, well, sort of like royalty, you know, that one ought to curtsy and back out from your presence as they do at court. Madam laughed with an appreciative little laugh that showed a thorough enjoyment of the situation. But when you saw that the girls were mistaken, Mary interrupted hurriedly, blushing again in her confusion. No, no, they were not mistaken. You were exactly as they described you, only they didn't tell me how—how—ugh. She groped frantically for the word and finished lamely.  She had started to say how adorable you are, but checked herself, afraid it would sound too gushing on the first acquaintance, although that was exactly what she felt.  It seems from the way you put yourself in my place so quickly that once upon a time you must have been the same kind of girl that I am, but of course I know that you were not. You were Lloyd Sherman's kind. She just naturally does the right thing in the right place, and there's no occasion for her being a copycat. That's what Jack tells me. Jack's my brother. Madam laughed again, such an appreciative friendly laugh that Mary joined in, wondering how the other girls could think her cold and unapproachable. It seems to her that Madam was one of the most responsive and sympathetic listeners she had ever had, and it moved her to go on with her confidences. Jack says that I am not built on the same lines as the Princesses. Princess Winsome is one of her names for Lloyd, and he says it is ridiculous for me to try to do things the way she does. He is always quoting a pitticus to me. Where I a nightingale I would act the part of a nightingale, where I a swan, the part of a swan. He says that trying to copy her is what makes me just plain goose so much of the time. Madam Chartley, long accustomed to reading girls, knew that it was not vanity or egotism which prompted these confessions, only a grillish eagerness to be measured by her highest ideals and not by appearances. She saw at a glance the possibilities of the material that lay here at her hand. Out of it might be wrought a strong, helpful character such as the world always needs, and such as she longed to send out with every graduate who passed through her doors. Many things were awaiting her attention elsewhere, but she lingered to extend their acquaintance a trifle further. You know Lloyd Schellman well, I believe, she said. I remember that you gave Mrs. Sherman as one of your references when you applied for admission to further school, and I had a highly satisfactory letter from her about you and reply to my inquiry. Now that we speak of it, I am reminded that Lloyd added a most enthusiastic postscript concerning you. Mary's face flushed with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Oh, did she? She cried eagerly. We've been friends always, even with half a continent between us. Our mothers were schoolmates. Lloyd was more Joyce's friend than Mayan at first because they weren't nearer of an age. Joyce is my sister. She's an artist now in New York City, and we think she's going to be famous someday. She does such beautiful designing. I've been my model ever since I was 11 years old. I'd rather be like her than anybody I ever knew or read of, so I don't mind Jack calling me a copycat for trying. One of the reasons I wanted to come to Warwick Hall was that she had been here. Would you believe it? She rattled on. Last night on the sleeping car, I counted up 42 good reasons for wanting to come here to school. It had been many a moon since Mary's remarks had been met with such flattering attention. Not realizing she was being studied, she felt that Madame was genuinely interested. It encouraged her to go on. Jack gave me my choice of all the schools in the United States, and I chose this without hesitating an instant. Jack is paying my expenses, you know. I couldn't have come up a step if it hadn't made for him, and there wouldn't have been the faintest shadow of hope of coming if he hadn't been promoted to the position of assistant manager at the mines. Oh, Madame Tartley, I wish you knew Jack. He's just the dearest brother that ever lived, so unselfish and so ambitious for us all. She stopped abruptly, feeling that she was letting her enthusiasm run away with her tongue. But Madame, noting the quick leap of light to her eyes and the eerie clasping of her hands as she spoke of him, wanted to hear more. She was sure that in these naive confessions she would find the keynote to Mary's character. So with a few well-chosen questions, she encouraged her to go on till she had gathered a very accurate idea of the conditions which had produced this most wholesome, enthusiastic little creature, almost a woman in some respects, the various child and others. Mary had had an uneventful life, she judged, limited to the narrow bounds of a Kansas village and, later, to the still narrow recircle of experiences in the lonely little home they had made on the edge of the desert when Mrs. Ware's quest of health led them to Arizona. But it was a life that had been lifted out of the ordinary by the brave spirit which made a jest of poverty and held on to the refining influences even while battling back the wolf from the door. It had made a family of philosophers of them able to extract pleasure from trifles and to find out where most people would never dream of looking. As she listened, Madame began to feel warmly drawn to the entire family who had taken the good old vicar of Wakefield for an example and adopted one of his sayings as a rule of life. Let us be inflexible and fortune will at last turn in our favor. Mary had no intention of revealing so much personal history but she had to quote the motto to show how triumphantly it had worked out in their case and what a grand turn fortune had taken in their favor after so many years of struggle to keep inflexible in the face of repeated disappointments and troubles. It had turned for all of them. Joyce, after several years of work and worry with her bees, had realized enough from them to start on her career as an artist. Holland was an Annapolis in training for the Navy. Within the last six weeks, Jack's promotion had made possible his heart's desire to send Mary to school and to bring his mother and 13-year-old brother to Lone Rock. The little mining town where he had been boarding ever since Mr. Sherman gave him his first position there, several years before. Mary was so bubbling over with the pleasure these things gave her that it was impossible not to feel some share of it when one looked at her. As Madame Charlie led the way to the office, she felt a desire to add still more to her pleasure. It was refreshing to see someone who could enjoy even little things so thoroughly. She bent over the ledger a moment, scanning the page containing the list of freshmen who had passed the strict entrance requirements. I had already assigned you to a room, she said, but from what you tell me, I fancy you would count it a privilege to be given Lloyd's old room. If that is so, I'll gladly make the change, although I do not know whether the other girl assigned to that room will prove as congenial a companion to you as a first selection. Her mother asked for that particular room, so I cannot well change. Mary's face grew radiant. Oh, Madame Charlie, she cried. I'd room with a hotentot for a chance to stay inside the four walls that held the princess all her school days. You don't know how much it means to me. You've made me the happiest girl in the face of the globe. It's a far cry from Ethel Linda Hearst to a hotentot, laughed Madame Charlie. She comes from one of the wealthiest homes in the suburbs of Chicago, and has had every advantage that civilization can offer. She's been abroad eight times, I believe, and has always studied at home under private tutors. She's an only daughter. How interesting. There'll be lots more diverting than a roommate who has always done the same commonplace things that I have. Oh, you have no idea how hard I'm going to work to deserve all this. I wrote to Jack last night that I intend to tackle school this year just the way that I used to kill snakes, with all my might in Maine. An amusing expression crossed Madame Charlie's face again. She was thinking of Ethel Linda and the possible effect the two girls might have on each other. At any rate, it was an experiment worth trying. It might prove beneficial to them both. She turned to Mary with a smile and pressed a button behind her desk. Your trunk shall be sent up as soon as the men find time to attend to it. In the meantime, you may take possession of your room as soon as you please. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of The Little Colonel's Trum Mary Where This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Little Colonel's Trum, Mary Where by Annie Fellows Johnston The King's Call Left to herself in the room which she was to occupy for the year, Mary stood looking around with the keen interest of an explorer. It was a pleasant room with two windows looking out over the river and two over the garden. To an ordinary observer, it had no claim to superiority over the other apartments, but to Mary it was a sort of shrine. Here in the low chair by the window, her Princess Winsome had sat to read and study and dream all through her school days. Here was the mirror that had caught her passing reflection so often that it still seemed to hold a thousand shadowy semblances of her in its shining depths. Only the June before, three short months ago, she had stood in front of it in all the glory of her commencement gown. Mary crossed the room on tiptoe, smiling at the recollection of one of her early make-believes. Oh, if it were only true that one could pass through the looking-glass into the wonderland behind it, what a charming picture galleries you would find. All the girls who had occupied the room since Warwick Hall had been to school.  They were all there, some more in the dim background of the mirror, and because of them, there was a subtle charm about the room to marry, which she would not have felt if she had been its first occupant. It's like opening an old drawer to drop in a handful of fresh rose-leaves and finding it sweet with the roses of a dozen junes gone by, she said to herself, so pleased with the fancy that she went on elaborating it. And Lloyd has been here so lately that her rose-leaves hadn't even begun to wither. There was no loyalty like the loyalty of a little schoolgirl for the older girl whom she has enshrined in her heart as her ideal, no sentiment like the intense admiration which puts a halo around everything the beloved voice ever praised, or makes sacred everything the beloved fingers have touched. Mary Ware at sixteen had not outgrown any of the ardent admiration for Lloyd Sherman, which had seized her when she was only eleven, but had flared up stronger than ever. She peered wistfully into the mirror, thinking, maybe just being in her old room will help because I shall be reminded of her at every turn. For a moment, the selfish wish was uppermost that she indeed not share the room with anyone. It seems almost desecration for a person who did not know and love Lloyd to be so intimately associated with her, but Mary's love of companionship was strong. Half of the fun of boarding school, in her opinion, was in having a roommate, and she could not forego that pleasure even for the sake of a very deep and tender sentiment. But she made the most of her solitude while she had it. From Kodak pictures she had seen of the room, she knew at a glance which of the narrow white beds had been Lloyd's, and immediately preempted it for herself, staking at her claim by depositing her hat and gloves upon it. As soon as her trunk was brought upstairs, she fell to work unpacking, with an energy in no wise diminished and tiresome journey. She had been cooped up on the car so long that she was fairly aching for something to do. In an hour's time, all her clothes were neatly folded or hung away, her shoe pocket tacked inside the closet door, her laundry bag hung on a convenient nail, her few pictures arranged in a group over her bed, and exactly half of the table laid out with her portfolio, books, and a work basket. She had been not only just, but generous in the division of property. She left more than half the drawer space in closet hooks for the use of the unknown at the linda, the most comfortable chair, and the best-slided end of the table. That was because she herself had had first choice in the matter of bed and dressing table, and having seized upon the most desirable from a point of view, felt that she owed the other girls some reparation. Because they had been Lloyd's, she wanted them so strongly that she was ready to sacrifice everything else in the room for them, or even fight for their possession if necessary. By the time all was in order, the Lombardi poplars were throwing long shadows on the green sword of the terraces, and from the window she could see the garden, lying so sweet and still in the drows of the late afternoon that she longed to be down in it. She hurried to change the rumpled shirt-waste in which she had finished her journey and done her unpacking for a fresh white dress. It was proof that the room was exerting some influence to make her like her model, that even in her haste she made a careful toilet. Remembering how dainty and thorough going Lloyd always was in her dressing, she scrubbed away until every vestige of travel stain was gone. All fresh and rosy, down to her immaculate fingertips, she scanned herself in the mirror, from the carefully tied bow in her hair to the carefully tied bows in her slippers, and knotted approvingly. She could stand inspection now from the whole row of them, all those girls on the other side of the looking glass, seemed so near and real to her. As she turned away from the mirror, her glance rested on the little group of home pictures she had put up over her bed. The tents and tiny two-roomed cottage that they called Wears-Wigworm looked small and cramped compared to the Great Hall, with its wide corridors and spacious rooms. It had always seemed to Mary that she was born to live in King's houses, she so enjoyed luxurious surroundings, but a homesick pang seized her now as she looked down on the picture and remembered that she could never go back to it. It doesn't seem as if I have any home now, she sighed, for I didn't stay long enough from the new place at Lone Rock to get used to it. I know that she'll always love the Wears-Wigworm best, and when I think of it standing empty or maybe turned over to strangers, it makes me feel as if one of my best friends has died. I'm glad we took so many pictures of it, and that I kept a record of all the good times we had there. Oh, that reminds me, there's one more thing I must do before sundown, bring my diary up to date. I have her written a line in it for six weeks. The outdoors was too alluring to waste another moment in the house, however, so gathering up her diary and fountain pen, she went down stairs and out into the garden, feeling as the gate swung to behind her that she was stepping into an old, old English garden belonging to some doogal estate. Coming as she did, straight from the edge of the desert, with its burning stretches of sand, its cactus and greasewood, its bare-red buddles and lank rows of cottonwood trees, this Eden of green and bloom had a double charm for her. For a long time she wandered up and down its winding paths, finding many a shady pleasant hidden away among its labyrinths of hedges, where one might be tempted to stop and dream away a whole long summer afternoon. But she did not pause until she came to a sort of court surrounded by rustic arbors, where a fountain splashed in the center, and an ancient sundial marked the hours. With a pleased cry of recognition she ran across a closely clipped turf to read the motto carved on the dial's face. I only marked the hours that shine. The very words that Betty wrote in my Good Times book the day she gave it to me, she said, opening her diary to verify the motto on the fly leaf. It was beyond my wildest dreams that I'd ever be standing here in Warwick Hall Garden, reading them for myself, I mustn't wait another minute to make a record of this good time. Choosing a seat in one of the arbors where a hummingbird was darting in and out through a tangle of vines, she opened the thick red book in which she had kept a faithful record of her doings and goings for the last two years, and glanced at the last entry. The day it was such an old one that she read the last three pages to refresh her memory. The Wigwem Thursday, August 4th Jack came home yesterday to our beautiful surprise. Mr. Sherman had telegraphed him to come out once to Kentucky on a flying trip to consult with the directors of the mine. As he had to pass through Phoenix anyhow, he managed it so he could stay overnight with us. I'm so happy over the prospect of his having a chance at last to see our promised land that I am fairly beside myself. I sat up half the night making cookies and gingerbread and rolls and boiling chickens for his lunch. He says he's been hungry for home cooking so long that it will go away ahead of the dining-car fare. Everything turned out beautifully and while I waited for them to bake I wrote a list of the things he must see and questions he must ask at the locusts, things I've wanted to know ever since I came back from Lloydsboro Valley, and yet you can't very well find out just in letters. He left on this morning's early train. If he finds he can take the time, he's going on to Annapolis for a day just to get a glimpse of Holland and then to New York for a day and a half with Joyce. Good old Jack. He certainly earned his holiday. I can hardly wait for him to come home and tell all about it. Spreading the book out on her knees, Mary adjusted her pen and began to write rapidly for words always crowded to her penpoint as they did to her tongue with a rush. Warwick Hall, September 12th Little did I think when I wrote that last line that six whole weeks would pass before I added another or that my next entry would be made in this beautiful old garden that I have dreamed of for so long. Little did I think I would be sitting here beside the old sundial where that such an hour could shine for me as the happy hour when Jack came back. I drove into Phoenix to meet him and I knew from the way he waved his hat and swung off the steps before the train stopped that he had good news and it was perfectly splendid. They had made him assistant manager of the mines with a great big salary that would make a change in our fortunes. I thought it was queer that he should have a trunk back with him for he went away with only a suitcase but I was so busy asking questions about Joyce and Holland and everybody at the locusts that there wasn't time or breath to ask about the trunk. We were halfway home before he got around to that. He said his first thought when they told him of his promotion was, now Mary can have her heart's desire and go away to school and on the way to New York he planned it all out. Hell would give up the wigwam and take a house in Lone Rock and he'd get someone to help Mama and he'd have Norman under his eye all the time when he was out of school and keep him out of mischief. He's been wanting to do that ever since he went to the mines for there never was such a homebody. He can't bear to board. Nearly all of that little scrap of a visit he and Joyce had together, those blessed children spent in getting my clothes. Joyce has all my measurements and they got me three dresses and a hat and a lot of shirt wastes and gloves and fixings also beautiful and stylish and a little bit quirky and the fine big trunk to put them in. There was even a new brush and comb and mirror where she remembered how ratty looking my old things were and there was a letter portfolio and a silk umbrella and a lot of odds and ends that all school girls need. I don't believe they overlooked a thing to make my outfit complete and I know they're as nice as any the others will have for Joyce has such a good taste and always knows just what is fit and proper. I feel so elegant in my pretty blue traveling where the beautiful little evening dresses they chose one white ponggy and the other some new sort of goods that looks just like a soft shimmery cloud a regular picture dress. Jack went on to the mines the next day and after that everything was in a whirl till we were moved and settled for there was so much to do packing the furniture to be shipped and after we got to the new house unpacking again and shifting things around till I got all livable and home like. By that time it was time for me to get my things together and go down to Phoenix to meet the people who had offered to take me under their wing on their way back east. Judge and Mrs. Stockton brought me. I must remember the date of Mrs. Stockton's birthday, November the 4th and send her one of those bead purses. She admired the one she saw me making so much and I know she would like it and she certainly was an angel to me on the trip. It seems to me it's my luck to meet nice people everywhere I go. I'm not going to wait till the last Thursday in November on Thanksgiving Day. I've got seven good reasons for Thanksgiving this very minute. First, we got here without a wreck. Second, the ribbon on my hat doesn't show a single spot after all the hard shower that we got caught in and I thought I'd ruined it. Third, I think I impressed Hawkins as I hoped to even if I was a bit nervous. Fourth, while my introduction to Madame Charlie was horribly mortifying, all's well that ends well and she didn't lay it up against me. I think she must have taken quite a fancy to me instead or she wouldn't have given me my fifth and greatest reason for thankfulness, the privilege of occupying Lloyd's old room. Maybe I ought to put that as my greatest reason, for of course it's great just to be here at all. And seventh, I'll never get done being thankful that I've got Jack for a brother. That really is the best of all and I'm going to make so much out of my opportunities this year, that he'll feel repaid for all he's done for me and be glad and proud that he could do it. Filling another page with an account of her journey and her oppressions of the place, Mary closed her journal with a sigh of relief that the long neglected entry had been made. Then she leaned back on the rustic bench and gave herself up to the enjoyment of her surroundings. The fountain splashed softly.  Far below, the shining Potomac took its slow way to the sea between its lines of drooping willows. The common repose of the stately old place seemed to steal in on her soul, not only through eye and ear and sense of touch, but at every pore. It's the strangest thing, she mused. I must be a sort of chameleon the way I change with my surroundings. It doesn't seem possible that only last week I was scrambling around with my head tied up in a towel, scrubbing and cleaning and dragging furniture around at a breakneck speed. I could almost believe I've never done anything all my life but trail around this garden on my elegant leisure, like some fine lady in waiting. There was time for a stroll down to the river before the falling twilight recalled her to the house. As she went down the flight of marble steps, it was with a self-conscious feeling that she was a girl in a play, and this was one of the scenes in Act One. She had seen a setting like this on a stage one time, when a beautiful lay trailed down the steps of a Venetian palace to the gondola waiting in the lagoon below. To be sure, Mary's dress did not trail, and she was not tall and willowy outwardly, but it made no difference as long as she could feel that she was. For a long time she walked slowly back and forth along the river path, pausing now and then to look up at the great castle like building above her. She had never seen one before so suggestive of Old World Grander. Already it was giving her more than she would find inside its textbooks. Strangely susceptible to surroundings, she unconsciously held herself more erect as if such a stately habitation demanded it of her. And when she climbed the steps again, with it looming up before her in the red afterglow, the dignity and repose of its lines, from its massive portal to its highest turret, awakened a response in her beauty-loving little soul that thrilled her like music. She went softly through the great door and up the staircase, pausing for a moment on the landing to look at the coat of arms in the stained glass window. It was a copy of the window in the Old Ancestral Castle in England that belonged to Madame Tartley's family. Mary already knew the story of his traditional founder, the first Edwin who had won his knighthood in valiant deeds for King Arthur. In the dim light the coat of arms gleamed like jewels in an amber setting, and the heart in the crest, the heart out of which rose a mailed hand grasping a spear, was like a great ruby. I keep the trist, whispered Mary, beating the motto of the scroll underneath. No wonder Madame Tartley grew up to be so patrician. Anybody might with a window like that in the house. Someone began striking loud, full chords on a piano in one of the rooms below. Someone with a strong, masterful touch. Mary was sure it was a man. By leaning over the banister until she almost lost her balance, she caught a glimpse of a pair of black coattails swinging awkwardly over a piano bench. Her vocal bomb, the musical director, must have arrived. Probably she would meet him at dinner. That was something to look forward to. An artist who had played before crowned heads and had been lionized all over Germany. Then the chords rolled into something so beautiful and inspiring that Mary knew that for the first time in her life, she was hearing really great music, played by a master. She sat down on the steps to listen. The self-conscious feeling that she was acting apart in a play came back afresh and made her hastily pull down her skirts and assume a listening attitude. Thinking how effective she would look on a stage, she leaned back against the carved banister, clasping her hands around her knees and gazing up at the ruby heart in the stained glass window above her. But in a moment both self and pose were forgotten. She had never dreamed that the world held such music as the flood of melody which came rolling up from below. It seemed to lift her out of herself and into another world, a world of nameless longings and exalted ambitions of burning desire to do great deeds. Something was calling her calling and calling with a compelling note of a far-off yet insistent trumpet and as she gazed at the mailed hand with a spear raising triumphantly out of the ruby heart she began to understand. A feeling of awe crept over her that she, little Mary where should be hearing the same call that Edwin heard. Somewhere, some day some great achievement awaited her. Now she knew that was why she had been born into the world. That was why too, that Providence had opened away for her to come to world recall, that she might learn what was to be the north star of her great ambition and how to keep the compass needle of her soul ever true to it. Clasping her hands together as reverently and humbly as if she were before an altar she looked up at the ruby heart her face all alight whispering Edwin's answer to his the king's call oh list oh heart and hand of mine keep trist keep trist or die. The music stopped as suddenly as it had begun and all a tingle with the exalted mood in which it left her she ran up to her room and knelt by the window looking out into the desk with eager shining eyes as yet it was all vague and shadowy and mysterious future which awaited her with what great duty to the universe she was to keep trist she did not know but whatever it was she would do it at any cost to callow wings no flight is too high to attempt at 16 all things are possible all girls of Mary's imaginative impulsive temperament have had such moments under the spell of such unusual inspiration but their dreams are apt to vanish at after the earth again as suddenly as a bubble breaks when some material object touches it but with Mary the vision stayed true it had to retire into the background when dinner was announced and her overweening curiosity brought her down to the consideration of common everyday affairs but she did not lose the sense of having been set apart in some way by that supreme moment on the stair to the world she might only be an ordinary little freshman but inwardly she knew she was a sort of Joan of Arc called and consecrated to some high destiny she went down to dinner in an uplifted frame of mind that made her passage down the long dining room in the wake of Madame and the few returned teachers a veritable march of triumph the feeling that the curtain had gone up on an interesting play in which she was chief actor came back stronger than ever when she took her seat even with a high backed ebony chairs with a carved griffin atop and unfolded her napkin in the gaze of a long line of ancestral portraits Madame Charlie who had been looking forward to the dinner hour with some apprehension on the new pupils account knowing she would be obliged to curb the lively tongue if she talked at the table as she had done in the reception room was amazed at the change in her Warwick Hall had done its work already the little chameleon had taken on the color of her surroundings Hawkins in all his years of London service had never served a more demure self-possessed little English maiden or one who listened with greater deference to the conversation of her elders she spoke only when she was spoken to but some of her odd unexpected replies made her a vulgar bomb look up with an interest he rarely took in anything outside of music and his dinner Miss Chilton was so amused at her accounts of Arizona life that she invited her up to her room and led her into a conversation that revealed her most original traits she's a bright little thing Miss Chilton reported to Madame afterward the kind of girl who was bound to be popular in a school just because she's so different and interesting she's more than that answered Madame smiling over the recollection of some of her quaint speeches she's lovable she has the divine gift of making friends End of Chapter 2 Chapter 3 of The Little Colonel's Chum Mary Ware This is the LibriVox recording the recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Elsie Selwyn The Little Colonel's Chum, Mary Ware by Annie Fellows Johnston Chapter 3 Roommates Up in her orderly room on opening day Mary listened to the bustle of her rivals and the stir of unpacking going on all over the house the cordial greetings called back and forth from the various rooms and the laughter and the halls to have a part in the general sociability she wished that it were necessary for her to borrow a hammer or to ask information about the trunk room in the porter as the other new girls were doing that would give her an excuse for going into some of the rooms and making acquaintance with their occupants but everything was in absolute order and she was already familiar with the place and its rules there was nothing for her to do but take out her beadwork and occupy herself with that as best she could until the arrival of her roommate she set her door invitingly open to meet more than half way any advances her neighbors might choose to make while she sorted her bead she amused herself by fitting together the scraps of conversation which floated her way and making guesses as to the personality of the speakers twice her open door brought the reward of a transient visitor once a jolly sophomore glanced in to say I wanted to see who has the American beauty room that's what we called it last term when Kitty Walton and Lord Sherman had it soon after a girl across the hall identified as one Dora Irene Derwent called Doreen for short darted in unceremoniously with an agonized plea for a bit of court plaster I cut my finger on a piece of glass and a picture frame that got broken in my trunk she explained unwinding her handkerchief to see if the bleeding had stopped I can't find my emergency case and corny Dean never was known to keep anything of the sort all the other rooms are so upset I knew what's of no use to reply to them happy that such an opportunity had come at last and that she could supply the demand Mary examined the injured finger and began to trim a strip of plaster the required size at the moment of cutting herself Doreen had dropped the broken glass but for some unaccountable reason had thrust the frame under her arm and was holding it tight to her side by her elbow now as she put out her hand for Mary's inspection she sat down on the edge of the bed and let the frame slip from her grasp to the counter pain the photograph side lay up her most and Mary glancing at it casually gave me an exclamation of surprise why it's Betty, Betty Lewis do you know her? well rather was the emphatic re-insert she was my crush on my freshman year I suppose you know what that means if you ever had a case of yourself I simply adored her and could hardly bear to come back the next year because she was graduated and gone I haven't seen her since but you can imagine what a delight when I found her name in this year's catalogue as one of the teachers for writing but it will be simply delightful to have her back she's such a dear but where did you happen to know her? she added as an afterthought are you from Lloydsboro Valley too? no but I visited there once at Lloyd Sherman's home where Betty lives Lloyd's mother is Betty's godmother and Betty's mother was my sister Joyce's godmother we're all mixed up that way on account of our mothers being old school friends as if we were related of course I shall call her Miss Lewis Mama says it wouldn't be shown her proper respect not to but it's such a comfort to be able to call her Betty behind the scenes she came yesterday last night she was up in my room for more than an hour with me talking about the places and people we both know in the valley and made me so happy I could hardly go to sleep Elise Walton came with her kitty sister you know I wish she as bright and funny as Kitty demanded Doreen if she is we certainly shall lay siege to you two for our own sorority we ought to have first claim whether Lloyd's borough valley girls belong to us come over and see corny conscious that as a friend of the valley girls she had gone at many degrees in Doreen's estimation Mary put away her scissors and plaster case and followed her new found acquaintance across the hall her cordial reception gave her what she had been longing for all morning the sense of being an intimate touch with things in the inner circle school life because she knew Lloyd and Betty so well they took her in as one of themselves gave her a seat on a suitcase and lined over her and around her as they went on with her unpacking Mary was in her element and blossomed out into such an interesting visitor that Doreen was glad that she had discovered her this was the beginning of the fourth year that she and corny had roomed together and to marry their companionship seemed ideal I hope my roommate will prove as congenial as you too she said after listening half an hour to their laughing repartee and their ridiculous discussions as to the arrangement of their pictures and brick a brick I've been looking forward all morning to her coming at the time I think of her I have the same excited creepy feeling that I used to have when I opened a prize popcorn box my little brother and I used to save all our pennies for them when we were little tots back in Kansas we didn't eat the popcorn that is I didn't it was the flutter and the thrill I wanted that comes when you've almost reached the bottom of the box and know the next grab will bring the prize into your fingers I was always hoping I might find one of those little rings with a red setting that I could pretend was a real garnet no matter if it did always turn out to be nothing like a toy soldier or a tin whistle there is always some kind of a surprise and that delicious and certain creepy feeling at first well you don't always draw a prize in your popcorn when you draw in roommates I can tell you that announced corny emphatically I was at a school the year before I came here where I had to room with a girl who almost drove me to distraction she was a mild modest little thing who was Calper says would not with a peremptory tone assert the nose upon her face her own she do things that would provoke me beyond endurance sometimes I could hardly keep from choking her what kind of things for instance has Mary well for one thing it does seem little one when you tell it we had about a thousand photographs more or less perched around on the mantel in the walls as he was so painfully modest that she couldn't bear to undress them with them looking at her so she turned their faces to the walls and the next morning she'd be so slow about getting down to breakfast that there wouldn't be time to turn them back there my poor family and friends would have to stay with their faces to the wall all day as if they were in disgrace until they run around and turn them all back myself then she was such a queer little mouse didn't really come out of her hole and got sociable until after dark as soon as the lights were out and we were in bed she'd want to talk no matter how sleepy I was that was the time to tell all her troubles she was so humble and respectful and asking my advice that I couldn't throw a pillow at her to shut her up so there she'd lie and talk in a stage whisper until after midnight then it was like pulling teeth to get her up in the morning the alarm clock for a while to rise her early and give her half an hour to wake up in and never made the slightest difference to her but always waking me finally on screwed the alarm key and hit it she was so sensitive that I couldn't scold and fuss about things now with Doreen here simply gag her when she talks too much set her in the closet when she gets in my way and scab her when she doesn't do what she's bid without any reason for forming such a mental picture of her perspective roommate Mary had imagined her to be a blue-eyed golden-haired little creature with a sort of waxed-doll purdiness a girl made to be petted and considered and shielded like a delicate flower the type appealed to her independent and capable herself she was prepared to be almost motherly in her care for ethanildo's comfort with this preconceived notion it was somewhat of a shock when she went back to her room and found the real ethyl linda being ushered into it she was not blue-eyed and appealing she was large she was shelf-assured and she took possession of the room in an expansive all-pervading sort of way that made Mary feel very small and insignificant the room itself that heretofore had been so spacious suddenly seemed to shrink and when a huge trunk was brought in it was fairly crowded Mary drew her chair into the narrow space between the bed and the window but even there she felt in the way I don't see why I should she thought with a vague resentment it's as much my room as hers it was one of the requirements of the school that all trunks must be emptied and sent to the storeroom on arrival and presently as ethanildo seemed ignorant of the rule Mary told her and offered to help her unpack the drawer was excessively polite so polite that it left Mary at greater arms length than before Fanchon was to do the unpacking she had come on purpose for that and a few moments Fanchon came in a middle-aged woman who had accompanied her from home and who was to return as soon as her charge was properly settled the two conversed and French as ethanildo with her hands clapped behind her head touched back in a rocking chair and lazily watched proceedings she was utterly regardless of Mary's presence I might as well be the doorknob for all the notice she takes of me thought Mary resentfully while she may prove to be as much as a tin whistle but she certainly isn't the prize I had hoped to find she cast another furtive glance at her over her lead stringing slowly making up her estimate of her she's what choice would call a drab blonde washed out complexion and salo hair she looks drab all the way through to me but she may be the kind that improves on acquaintance she certainly has a good figure of those fashion ladies in vogue from time to time Mary proffered bits of information as occasion offered as to which of the drawers were empty and how to pull the wardrobe door a certain way when it stuck but her friendly advances were so coldly received that presently she slipped out of the room and went over to the east wing to see what Elise Walton was doing Elise had already made friends with her roommate a little dumpling of a girl by the name of Agnes Olive Miggs and was calling her AO as everyone else did in five minutes Mary was calling her AO2 and obviously that either one of these bright friendly girls could have fallen to her lot instead of the polite iceberg she had run away from but I won't complain of her to them she thought loyally maybe she'll improve on acquaintance and be so nice that I'd be sorry someday that I said anything against her several other girls came in while she sat there in a box of candy was passed around finding herself in the company of congenial young spirits was a new experience for Mary now I know what it means to be in the swim she thought exultantly was found a whole lake to swim in when it has never had anything bigger than a puddle before the sensation was so exhilarating that it prompted her to exert herself to keep on saying funny things and sending her audience off into gales of laughter and all the time the consciousness deepened that they really liked her that she was really entertaining them after lunch the day went by in a rush each teacher met her classes programs were arranged and lessons assigned by night Mary had made the acquaintance of every girl in the freshman class and many of the others she started to her room all aglow with the new experiences thinking that if she could only find Ethan Nilder responsive it would put the finishing touch to a perfect day Betty was in the upper hall surrounded by an admiring circle for all the old girls who remembered her as the star of her class and all the new ones who had been attracted to her from the moment they saw her were crowding around her as if she were holding some kind of court it was a moment of triumph for Mary when Betty laughingly excused herself from them and drew her aside come into my room a few minutes I have something to show you she said while she was looking through her desk to find it she asked well how goes that little girl school hall you dreamed it would be Betty she won't thought out a bit who dear that Miss Ethel Linda Hurst when I went upstairs to just for dinner I tried my best to be sociable and brought up every subject that I thought would interest her she barely answered till she found that I had come out to Warwick Hall from the city alone that horrified her to think I'd take a step without a chaperone and she said it in such a way that I couldn't help saying that I thought one must feel like a poodle tied to a string always fastened to a chaperone as for me and give me liberty or give me death and she answered oh aren't you queer then after a while I tried again but she wouldn't draw out how it worth a cent said she had never ruined with anyone before but suppose it was one of the disagreeable things one had to put up with when one went away to school imagine pleasant for me wasn't it tried letting her alone for a while advised Betty, bait her out of her own game play dumb for say a week but that is so much good time wasted when we might be challenged from the start when you're going to bed is the cream of the day you see you always had Lloyd so you don't know what it is like to room with an oyster here it is announced Betty on wrapping the package she had just found and passing it to Mary Lloyd's last photograph the best she had ever taken in my opinion it's so lifelike you almost wait to hear her speak it's so simple and girlish I suppose the next one will be taken in evening after she makes her debut who is it for me was the happy cry yes frame, picture, nail to hang it on and all Lloyd signed it with her love the day the photographs came home she found that funny slip of paper with all the questions on it Jack was to ask and you wanted so especially to know just how the princess looked and how she was wearing her hair and all that she said I believe I'll send one of these to Mary and she'll admire it whether anyone else does or not and then she came up out her bed to Mary propping the frame up in front of her that she might watch the beloved face while she listened nothing loathe Betty sat down and began to talk of the gay summer just gone of the picnics and the barn parties the moonlit drives the rainy days at the log cabin the many nights who came a riding by to pay court to the fair daughter of the house then she told of her own good times and the disappointment when her manuscript had been returned and the reason for her coming to Warwick Hall to teach I have come to serve my apprenticeship Colonel advised me to he said I must live a while have some experiences that go deeper than the carefree existence I have been living before I can write anything worthwhile I'm sure he is right when Mary had heard all that Betty could remember to tell she took her departure carrying the picture in the nail on which to hang it she wanted to show it to Ethelinda she was so proud of it but heroically refrained early as it was Ethelinda was undressing Mary had intended to do many things before bedtime writing her journal and the rip in her skirt start a letter to Jack and maybe make some break in the wall reserve which Ethelinda still kept persistently between them but when she saw the preparations for retiring she hesitated perplexed she's tired from her long journey she thought so maybe I ought not to sit up and keep the light burning maybe she'll appreciate it if I go to bed too I can lie and think even if I'm not sleepy the rip in the skirt had to be mended however or she would not be presentable in the morning it was a small one and she did not sit down to the task but in order that she might work faster stood up and took short hurried stitches next taking off her shoes to use the heel as a hammer she drove the nail in the wall over the side of her bed and hung the picture where she could see it the last thing at night and the first in the morning then retiring behind her screen she made her preparations for the night they were completed long before Ethelinda's and climbing into bed she lay looking at the new picture glad for this opportunity to gaze at it to her heart's content it made her think of so many things that she loved to recall little incidents of her visit to the locusts and the smiling lips seemed to be saying don't you remember and such a friendly companionable way that she whispered to herself oh you dear if you were only here this year what an angel of a chummy would make then she looked across at Ethelinda who had arranged the windows to her satisfaction and was now stretching the electric light cord from her dressing table to her bed so that the bulb would hang directly over it in another moment she had popped herself comfortably against the pillows down with the book Mary sat up astonished she had sacrificed her own plans and come to bed for Ethelinda's sake and now here was the electric light blazing full in her eye utterly regardless of her comfort she was about to sputter an indignant protest when she looked up at the picture it seemed to smile back at her as if it were a real person with whom she met exchange amused glances did you ever see such colossal unconcerned she whispered as if the pictured Lord could hear for a moment she thought she would get up and do the things she had intended to do when she came upstairs but required too much effort to dress again and she was more tired than she had realized after her exciting day so she lay still she began to get drowsy presently but she could not go to sleep without irritating light in her eyes she threw a counter pain over the foot board but it was too low to shield her finally in desperation she slipped out of bed and got her umbrella then opening it over her she thrust the handle under the pillow to hold it in place and lay back under its sheltering canopy with a suppressed giggle again she looked up at Lloyd's picture thinking I'd have been awfully mad if you hadn't been here to smile with me over it the ball began to sway throwing shadows across the wall I thought Linda had struck the cord and reaching out to pull her pillows higher the flickering shadows made Mary think of something a verse that Lloyd had written in her autograph album once because it was the motto of the seminary shadowed club this learned eye from the shadow on a tree that too info did sway upon the wall our shadowy selves our influence may fall where we can never be she repeated it drowsily peering out from under her umbrella at the swaying shadows till something the line suggested made her sit up wide awake why I can take you for a chum of course she thought your shadow self then it won't make any difference whether Miss Hottiness Hearst talks to me or not you'll understand and sympathize with me all her life when Mary's world did not measure up to her expectations she had been in the habit of making a world of her own a beautiful make-believe place that held all her heart's desires it had given her gilded coaches and Cinderella ball attire on her nursery days and enchanted orchards whose trees bore all manner of confections it had bestowed beauty and fortune and accomplishments on her and sent dashing cavaliers to seek her hand when she came to the romance reading age friends and social pleasures were hers at will when the lonely desert life grew irksome whatever was dull the mightest touch of her imagination made golden so now it was easy to close her eyes and conjure up a make-believe chum that for the time was as good as a real one absorbed in her book as a Linda read on until the signal sounded for lights out never before accustomed to such restrictions she looked up impatiently she had forgotten where she was for a moment in the interest of her book when her glance fell on the umbrella spread over Mary's bed like a tent she raised herself on her elbow with a look of astonishment it took her some time to understand why I had been put there never having ruined with anyone before and had to consider anyone's convenience besides her own it had not occurred to her that she might be making Mary uncomfortable the mute umbrella called attention to the fact more eloquently than any protest could have done Ethel and I had endured having a roommate as she endured all the other disagreeable requirements of school now for the first time it dawned upon her that there may be two sides to this story also that this strange girl who seems so eager to intrude herself on her notice might be worth knowing after all if Mary could have seen her bewildered stare and then the amused expression which twitched her mouth for an instant she would have had hopes that the thawing-out process had begun. The Little Colonel's Chum Mary Where By Annie Fellows Johnston Chapter 4 I, There's the Rub True to the course she had laid out for herself Mary was as dumb next morning as if she had really lost the power of speech judging from her manner one would have thought that she was alone in the room and that she was having a beautiful time all by herself she was waiting for Ethel and to make the advances this time and as she did not see fit even to say good morning the dressing proceeded in a silence so profound that could almost be felt there was a broad smile on Mary's face most of the time she was ready to laugh outright over the absurd situation and from time to time she cast an amused glance at Lloyd's picture as if her amusement were understood and shared it was wonderful how that life-like picture seemed to bring Lloyd before her and give her a delightful sense of companionship and she fell into the way of thinking to it as she expressed it the things she would have said allowed had Lloyd been with her she said mentally finding a satisfaction in this silent communion that a less imaginative person could not have experienced I wish you could go down to breakfast with me princess she thought turning for a last glance when she was dressed and pausing with her hands on the doorknob I dread to go down alone before all those strangers dinner the night before had been a very stately affair with Madame at the head of the table in the long banquet hall and Hawkins in solemn charge the most core of waiters but breakfast were to be delightfully informal Mary found a few minutes later when she paused at the dining room door and saw many small round tables each cosily set for six five pupils and a teacher Betty, presiding at one looked up and beckoned to her you're a trifle early but come on in you're to have a seat here by me and AO just around the corner now tell me what has happened to give you the glorious morning face as Stevenson put it you look as if you had found some rare good fortune I have but I didn't know I showed it Mary's hands went up to her face as if she expected to feel the expression that Betty saw I am so happy to think that I'm to be at your table I can stop playing dumb for a while oh but it has been funny up in our room this morning I took your advice and I want to tell you about it before the other girls come down Betty laughed heartily as Mary pictures herself in bed under the umbrella and smiled understandingly when she told about finding a make-believe chum in Lloyd's picture I know dear she answered I used to do that with this picture when I was a lonely little thing at the cuckoo's nest I'd whisper my troubles and show her my treasures and feel that she kept watch over me while I slept it comforted me many a time when there was no one else to go to and is one of my dearest recollections now of those days when I felt so little and lonesome and uncared for back would laugh at me exclaimed Mary presently if he knew that one of my air castles had collapsed he was always teasing me about building skyscrapers without any foundation on my way out here Mrs. Stockton told me a lot of stories about her school days she roomed with the judge's sister and she heard so much about him and he heard so much about her through his sister sending messages to each other in her letters then they exchanged photographs and finally they met when he came on the commencement and the romance of their lives grew out of it I kept thinking how romantic it would be to have your brother marry your dearest chum someone you already love like a sister and that if my roommate turned out to be lovely and sweet and charming all that I hoped she'd be interesting I could make it for Jack there's no society at all in Lone Rock and he never can meet any nice girls as long as he stays there and you don't think he would be interested in Ethelinda asked Betty mischievously and Eris and a girl with such a distinguished air she certainly has that even if she doesn't measure up to your standards of beauty he might be charmed with her you never can tell what a man is going to like not that that clam Mary answered warmly with an expression of disgust I know Jack you have no idea how she can shut herself up in her shell she never would fit in our family and I know he'd never the signal announcing breakfast made her stop in the middle of her sentence for at the same instance the girls began to file in well it's goodbye Betty I must begin talking to Miss Lewis now giving Betty's hand a quick squeeze under the table she drew herself up sedately the old girls welcome to the new was the chief topic of conversation that morning it was to take place that night and as the invitations would not be delivered until the opening of the first mail every freshman was in a flutter of expectancy wondering who her escort was to be I hope mine will be either corny Dean or Doreen Derwent confided Mary to Betty in an undertone because I know them so well but if I should have to choose a stranger I'd rather have that quiet girl in gray over at Miss Chilton's table she looks like a girl in an English storybook and I wish you'd notice how she is talking Mary continued in amazement did you ever see more animation she's making up for lost time oh that's Evelyn Berkeley answered Betty she is English a distant relative of madams with such an interesting history the year I finished school she came in the middle of the spring term such a sad looking creature all in black her mother had just died and her father who only a short time before has succeeded to the title in a state sent her over here to be with madame for a while he didn't know what to do with her as she seemed to be going into a decline she isn't like the same girl now oh is she a real my lady the carriage waits as Mary her eyes wide with interest yes she belongs to a very ancient and noble family said Betty amused at her enthusiasm but I thought you were such a little American revolution patriot that you would not be impressed by anything like that I'm not impressed exactly Mary answered stately but this is the first girl I ever saw who is own daughter to a lord and it does add a flavor to one's interest in her oh I see now that is why ethalinda is so friendly she added with sudden intuition of the truth she thinks that Miss Berkeley is somebody worth cultivating and that I'm not maybe it's a case of birds of a feather said Elise part of the conversation ethalinda aspires to a family tree and a coat of arms too I saw her box of stationary spill out over your table when I was in your room yesterday and I had quite an imposing crest on the paper a unicorn or a griffin or something pawing away at a crown Mary pursed her lips together thoughtfully that might explain it maybe she thinks I'm only a sort of wild North American Indian because our place is named where's wigwam and that is beneath her dignity to be intimate with her inferiors but if that is what is the matter she's just a snob and can't be very sure of her own position she is only 16 Betty reminded her even if she does look so mature and imposing I have an idea that the way she has been brought up is responsible for her attitude now it has given her a false standard of values now Mary here's a chance for you to do some real missionary work and teach her that the rank is but the guinea stamp and that we're all pure gold for that and that you were not members of the British peerage I wouldn't mind telling her anything if she was a real heathen was Mary's earnest answer but trying to break through her reserve is a harder task than budding a hole through the Chinese wall you have no idea how hot she is well I don't care much she cared enough however to take a lively interest in her roommate's pedigree based on her note paper later in the morning when some literature references made it necessary for her to go to the library she looked around for a certain fat volume she had poured over several times during those idle days before the beginning of school it was Burke's peerage she had looked into it because of the story of Edrin finding many mottos as interesting as the one on the stairs now she turned to the bees and rapidly scanned the columns till she came to the Burke's for generations there had been an Evelyn in the family what a long, long time they had had to shape their lives by their motto and grow worthy of their family traditions no wonder the Evelyn had that air of gentle breeding and calm poise damn chartlies Mary had already on a previous occasion looked in vain for the name of Wair and when she failed to find it consoled herself with the thought that for three hundred years it had been handed down with honour in the annals of New England staunch patriots the Wairs had been in the old colony days sturdy and stern of conscience and Mary had been taught to believe that their struggle living from the rocky hills while they built up a state was as worthy of honour as any nightly deed of the round table she was prouder of those early ancestors who delved and spawn and toiled with their hands at yamon tasks than the later ones who were ministers and judges and college professors until now she had never attached any importance that a branch of her mother's family had been a titled one because she was such a patriotic little American because so many years had elapsed since that particular branch had severed its connection with the family in the old world but now Mary felt a peculiar thrill of satisfaction when she found the name in the peerage and realized that some of the blue blood which had inspired those great grandfathers to nightly deeds was coursing through her own veins the crest was wingsperd with the moto ready, I ready maybe that is the reason the king's call has come to me as it did to Edrin she mused her chin in her hand and her eyes gazing dreamily out the window then she forgot all about her quest for the literary references for in her reverie listening to those voices again and seeing herself in a dimly foreshadowed future and center of an acclaimed crowd what great part she was to play she did not know but when the time should come for the fulfillment of her high destiny she would rise to meet it like the wingsper crying ready, I ready as all those brave ancestors had done it was in the blood to respond to this the hunter's horn on the terrace outside sounding the call to recreation roused her from her daydreams and she came to herself with a start but before she hurried away to the office where the mail was being distributed she made a quick survey of the ages to her surprise the name of Hearst was not among them she fairly ran down the stairs to report her discovery to Elise when the invitations for the evening were all distributed Mary went upstairs wailing out her consternation to AO she was to be escorted by Jane Ridgway the most dignified senior in the school she's the kind that knows such an awful lot and you have to be on your peas and queues with her every single minute corny says her father's in the cabinet and her mother is a shining intellectual light and now that I've been warned beforehand I'll not be able to utter a syllable of sense I know that I'll just gibber when she went to her room to dress for the occasion that night there was a great hunch of hot house roses waiting for her with Jane's card she knew from the other girl's description of this opening festivity that the senior spared no expense on this occasion but it rather overawed her to receive such an extravagant offering she looked across at the modest bunch of white and purple violets which had come from the warwood call conservatory for ethylinda and wondered if there had not been some mistake then to her surprise ethylinda who had noticed her glance spoke to her sweet aren't they miss bergley sent them or rather lady evelyn I should say she is to be my escort tonight it was mary's besetting sin to put people right whom she thought were mistaken so she answered hastily oh no you oughtn't to call her lady evelyn she doesn't like it she wants to be just like the other girls as long as she's in an american school ethylinda drew herself up with a stare and asked in a patronizing tone that netled mary may I ask how you happen to know so much about her equally lofty in her manner and in a tone comically like ethylinda's mary answered you may miss louis gave me that bit of information and for the rest I looked her up in berg's peerage she comes of a very illustrious and noble family so of course she feels perfectly sure of her position and doesn't have to draw the lines about herself to preserve her dignity as some people do corny dean was telling me about a girl who was in the school last year who made such a fuss about her pedigree that she couldn't be friends with more than three of the girls the rest weren't high enough cast for her she sported a crest and all that and no doubt that she hadn't a particle of right to it her father had struck it rich in some lumber deal and bought a gallery of ancestral portraits and paid a man a small fortune to fix him up a coat of arms she had no end of money but she wasn't the real thing and corny says that paced diamonds won't go down with this school they can spot them every time ethylinda made no comment for a moment but presently asked in a strained tone did you have any doubts of miss berkeley's claims is that why you looked her up in the peerage no said mary honestly i was looking for my own name but there wasn't a single wear in it and then she couldn't resist this thrust especially as she felt it was a part of the missionary work she had undertaken i looked for hers too as a girl said you had a crest well came the question a trifle defiantly it's not in the peerage ethylinda drew herself heartily as she had disdained an explanation yet felt forced to make one it is not my father's crest i use she announced it came from back in my mother's family oh said mary with significant emphasis i see then she added cheerfully i could have one too on a count like that way back but i wouldn't have any real right to it you have to be in the direct line of dissent it is silly for us americans to try to hang on by a hair to the main trunk of the family tree when all the world knows we belong on the outside branches there was no answer to this and the dressing proceeded in a silence as profound as the mornings until mary saw that ethylinda was struggling in a frantic effort to free herself from the hooks of her dress which had caught in her hair wait she called hurrying to the rescue let me hook it for you what a perfect dream of a gown it is she added in frank admiration as she deftly fastened it up it looks like the kind in the fairy tales that are woven out of moon beams here let me fix your hair where the hooks pulled it loose she tucked in the straggling locks with a few soft pads and touches which with the compliment mollified ethylinda a trifle in spite of her resentment over the former speech but it still wrinkled and she could not forebear saying a little spitefully what a soft light touch you have quite like a maid I had last year by the way her name was mary and it was awfully funny it happened at that time that every maid in the house was named that and whenever mama called mary five or six of them would come running I used to tell my maid that if I had as common a name as that I'd change it and as she said it set mary's teeth on edge she had never known anyone before who purposely said disagreeable things she often said them herself in her blundering impetuous way but was heartily sorry as soon as they were uttered now for the first time in her life she wanted to retaliate by saying the meanest thing she could think of so she answered hotly oh I don't know I named mary then a name that means noble snake like ethylinda who told you what it means was ethylinda's astonish demand I don't believe it you've only to consult webster was the dignified reply I looked your name up in the dictionary the day I first heard it ethyl means noble but ethylinda means noble snake I suppose nobody ever calls you just inda she added meaningly ethylinda's eyes flashed but she had no answer for this queer girl who seemed to have the dictionary and the peerage and no telling how many other sources of information at her tongues end again the dressing went on in silence mary finished first all but a hooker to which she could not reach and which she could not muster up courage to ask ethylinda to do for her finally gathering up her armful of roses she went across the hall to ask doreen's assistance why of course she cried opening the door wide at mary's knock you poor child think of having a roommate who is such a queen if she but she couldn't do a little thing like that for you but I didn't ask her mary hurry to explain eager to be perfectly honest I had just made such a mean remark to her courage to ask a favor you laughed corny I can't imagine a good nature's little puss like you saying anything very savage to anybody but I did confess mary I wanted to hurt her feelings I fairly ached to do it I should have said something meaner still if I could have thought of it quick enough isn't it awful only the second day of the term to have things come up to such a pass everything we do seems to rub the others fur up the wrong way I'd ask madame to change me to some other room said doreen but mary resented the suggestion no indeed I'll not have it said that I was such a fuss cat as all that I'll make myself get along with her well I don't envy the task was corny's rejoinder I never can resist the temptation to take people down when they get high and mighty I heard her telling one of the girls at the breakfast table that she'd never ridden on a street car in all her life till she came to Washington she made vengeance take her across the street in one instead of calling a carriage as they always do they have a garage full of machines at home and I don't know how many horses she said it in a way to make people who had always ridden in public the woman's is feel mighty plebeian and poor folksy although she insisted that street cars are lots of fun they give you a funny sensation when they stop those were her very words well of all things cried mary then after a moment silent musing it never struck me before what different worlds we have been brought up in but if a street car ride is as much a novelty to her as an automobile ride would be to me I don't wonder that she spoke about it I know I talk about my sensations in an auto if I'd ever been in one and it wouldn't be bragging either maybe all of our other experiences have been just as different she went on her judicial mind trying to look at life from ethalinda's viewpoint in order to judge her fairly I wonder what sort of girl I would have been if instead of always having the wolf at the door we'd have had bronze lions guarding the portals and all the money that heart could wish money sniffed corny it isn't that that makes a difference in ethalinda look at all to westman a millionaire in her own right there isn't a sweeter jolly or friendlier girl in the school anyway continued mary I'd like to be able to put myself in ethalinda's place for about an hour and see how things look to her especially how I look to her I'm glad I thought about that it will make it easier for me to get along with her for it will help me to make allowances for lots of things the door stood ajar and catching sight of rain witchway coming up the wall remember called corny after her we've taken you under our wing and claim you for our sorority we're not going to have any of the loidsboro valley girls imposed on and if she gets too uppity she'll find herself boycotted as the door closed behind her dorian remarked she's a dear little thing I'm going to see that she has so much attention tonight that ethalinda will wake up to the fact that she's worth having for a friend I'm going to ask evelyn bergley to make a special point of being nice to her the thought that corny considered her one of the loidsboro girls sent mary away with a pleasurable thrill that made her cheeks glow all evening there was something in the dawning of party clothes that always loosened her tongue and conscious of looking her best she plunged into the festivity of the hour with such evident enjoyment that others naturally gravitated towards her to share it congratulations whispered betty happening to pass her toward the close of the evening you're quite one of the bells of the ball isn't it simply perfect sight mary her face beaming air vogelbaum had just come in and was settling himself at the piano in place of the musicians who had been performing this was then a special treat not on the program and all that was needed in mary's opinion to complete a heavenly evening he played the same improvisation that had caught her up in its magic spell the day of her arrival and she went to her room in the uplifted frame of mind which finds everything perfection even her strained relations with aethelinda seemed a trifle the tiniest thorn in a world full of roses her last waking thought was a resolution to be so good and patient that even that thorn should disappear in time mary's popularity was not without its effect upon aethelinda especially the lady evalence evident interest in her it argued that she was worth knowing then too it would have been a heart heart which could have sealed itself against mary's persistent efforts to be friendly it was a tactful effort also making her daily put herself in aethelinda's place and consider everything from her viewpoint before speaking many a time it helped her curb her active little tongue and many a time it helped her to condone the one fault which particularly irritated her of course it's hard for her to keep her half of the room in order she would say to herself she's always had a maid to wait on her and has never been obliged to pick up even her own stockings she doesn't know how to be neat and probably I shouldn't either if I hadn't been so carefully trained then she would hang the rumbled skirts back in the wardrobe where they belonged rescue her overturned work basket from some garments that aethelinda had carelessly thrown across it and patiently straightened out the confusion of books and papers on the table they shared in common although there were no more frozen silences between them their conversation was far from satisfactory they were both totally uncongenial but after the first week that part of their relationship did not affect mary materially she was too happily absorbed into her school life throwing herself into every recitation, every excursion and every experience with a zest that left no time for mourning over what might have been at bedtime there was always her shadow charm to share the recollections of the day one of her letters to joys gave a description of the state of resignation to which she finally attained with my puritan conscious and big bump of order in my r.m. calmly embroidering this Sabbath afternoon her dressing table, her bed and the chairs look like rubbish heaps her bedroom slippers in the middle of the floor this time of day makes me want to gnash my teeth really it is a disaster to live with someone who scrambles for things in with yours all the time the disorder gets on my nerves some days till I want to scream there are times when I think I shall be obliged to rise up in my wrath like old samson and smite her hip and thigh with a great slaughter in most things I have been able to compromise Margaret Elwood one of the juniors taught me that she tried it with one of her roommates now happily a back number Margaret said this girl loved cheap perfumes for instance and she herself loathed them so she filled all the drawers and wardrobes with those nasty camphor mothballs which the r.m. could endure and when she protested Margaret offered a compromise she would cut out the mothballs even at the expense of having her clothes ruined if the r.m. would swear off on musk I tried that plan to break e of keeping the light on when I was sleepy one night I lay awake until I couldn't stand it any longer and then began to hum in a low droning chant sort of under my breath like an exasperating mosquito laughing water big chief's daughter till I nearly drove my own self distracted I could see her frown and change her position as if she were terribly annoyed and after I had hummed it about a thousand times she asked for heaven's sake Mary is there anything that will induce you to stop singing that thing I can't read a word why yes I answered sweetly does it annoy you I was only singing to pass the time till you turn off the light I can't sleep a wink will just compromise she turned it out in a jiffy and didn't say a word but I noticed that she pays attention to the signals now and does her reading before they sound taps all this is teaching yours truly a wonderful amount of self control and I have come to the conclusion that everything at war would call disagreeables and all are working together for my good so matters went on for several weeks Mary meekly hung up Ethelinda's dresses and put the room in order whenever it was disarranged and Ethelinda, always a custom to be waited upon took it as a service to her from one whom necessity had placed in a position always to serve if she had accepted it silently Mary might have gone on to the end of term making excuses for her and making good her neglect but Ethelinda remarked one day to one of the sophomores that if Mary were ever wanted a recommendation as ladies made she would gladly give it she seemed naturally cut out for that the remark was repeated without loss of time and in the same patronizing tone in which it was made Mary's boasted self control flew to the four winds she was half way down the stairs when she heard it but turning it roughly she marched back to her room her cheeks red and her eyes blazing throwing open the door she gave one glance around the room the disorder happened to be a little worse than usual a wet umbrella leaned against her bed and Ethelinda's damp coat lay across the white counter pain for she had been walking in the rain and had thrown them down in the most convenient spot on entering other articles were scattered about, promiscuously but Mary made no attempt as usual to put them in place instead it seemed as if a small cyclone swept through the room the wet umbrella was sent flying across to Ethelinda's bed gloves, coat and handsome plumed hat followed regardless of where they lit or in what condition half a dozen books went next tumbling palmel into a corner in Ethelinda's bedroom slippers over which Mary was always stumbling hurled through the air and an ivory hair brush that had been left on her dressing table they whizzed perilously near Ethelinda's head there exclaimed Mary choking back the angry trembling in her voice I'm worn out trying to keep this room in order for order's sake the next time I find your things on my side of the room I'll pitch them out the window it's no excuse at all to say that you've always had someone to wait on you you've always had your two hands too a lady is supposed to have some sense of her own obligations and of other people's rights now don't you dare get on my side again with her knees trembling under her till she could scarcely move Mary ran out of the room so frightened by what she had done that she did not venture back till bedtime Ethelinda refused to speak to her for several days but the outburst of temper had two good results one was that there was no need for a repetition and Ethelinda treated her with more respect from then on I had come to her with a shock that Mary was looking down on her for her Ethelinda hurst pitying her for some things and despising her for others and though she shrugged her shoulders at first and was angry at the thought she found herself many a time trying to measure up to Mary's standards she couldn't bear for those keen grey eyes to look her through as if they were weighing her in the balance End of Chapter 4 Recording by Mickey Lee Rich


The newly mobilized Russian soldiers in Crimea beat and killed the colonel. In the temporarily occupied Crimea, the newly mobilized soldiers reportedly assaulted a Russian colonel who died as a result of the injuries sustained. That's according to a report by Ukraine's Defense Intelligence. The incident took place in Simferopol on November 1. A group of mobilized soldiers from the 20th Motorized Rifle Division, part of the 8th Army of the Southern Military District, assaulted a Russian colonel whose last name is believed to be Musur Bekov. The officer held the position of the regiment's deputy commander. On November 7, the Simferopol hospital staff said Musur Bekov succumbed to his injuries. On the same day, the servicemen suspected of murdering the colonel, disguised in civilian clothes, fled from their base in the Simferopol district and crossed out of Crimea to Russia's Krasnodar region. As reported earlier, the Ukrainian Defense Intelligence jointly with the Resistance Movement guerrillas on November 8 liquidated the former chief of the LPR People's Militia Mikhail Filiponenko, who had been involved in setting up torture camps across the Luhansk region.