Dolly's College Experiences.

by Mabel Cronise Jones.

CHAPTER I

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dolly looked around forlornly enough.

Of course, she wanted to go to college, but for the first time she realized how dreadful it was, to be away from all the home-folks. In all those great buildings, with their hundreds of students, there was not a soul that Dolly knew.

Outside the door she could hear the old girls talking and chattering together. But she was not an old girl. She was just an insignificant little Freshman. No one took the least notice of her.

Her father had put her on the train and had even come part way with her.

But the real loneliness commenced after she reached Westover.

The college bus was there, and there was a good-natured man whom the girls all hailed as Patrick, and who seemed to belong to the college. He was evidently an expert at picking out the students, for when he caught sight of Dolly, he had walked up to her respectfully, and had inquired if she were not going to Westover College.

Then he put her safely into the bus, took her checks and looked after her bundles. A few moments later the bus was filled to overflowing with girls, the most of them apparently old students, for they seemed well acquainted with each other and were chattering like magpies. Some of them had been on the same train as Dolly, and our poor little Freshman had looked at them then with wistful, speculative eyes. But she had been too shy to attempt any conversation with them.

When they reached the college, all too soon for Dolly, she had hung back irresolutely, while the rest rushed up and embraced the teachers who stood in the reception room, ready to receive the newcomers.

She was feeling quite left out in the cold, and wishing heartily that she was back in the home-nest. Only for a moment, though. Her hand was cordially taken, and she turned to find herself addressed by a sweet-faced little woman, much shorter than Dolly herself, with gray hair and kindly eyes.

"I think this must be Miss Alden. Am I right?"

"Quite right, but I do not see how you knew."

"Your father telegraphed that you would come by this train, and you see, my dear, that you are the only Freshman in the crowd, so that it did not require much shrewdness on my part to pick you out. Now let me introduce you to some of the girls. You will soon feel acquainted here, I know. Margery," and as a tall, rather handsome girl turned around, she added; "I want you to meet Miss Alden, one of our new girls. Miss Ainsworth--and here are Miss Rummel, Miss Paterson and Miss Graves. Margery, will you show Miss Alden to 77? Your room-mate will not be here for several days yet. She is detained by her sister's marriage, which will occur this week. I hope you will like her; we tried to do our best in the arrangement of room-mates; next year, you can select your own. Excuse me now." And she turned to another newcomer, and Dolly followed Miss Ainsworth down the long corridor.

"You will like Westover, I'm sure," Miss Ainsworth remarked sedately; she evidently thought it her duty to make small talk, and act as Dolly's temporary guardian. "Of course, you'll feel lonesome at first until you get fitted in; all the girls do, but that soon wears off."

"Are you a Senior?" queried Dolly innocently. Miss Ainsworth seemed so very old and so very superior, that Dolly could only think of her as a Senior.

Her companion's cheeks flushed perceptibly as she answered stiffly; "No, I am not a Senior yet. Here is your room, Miss Alden. The bedroom on the right will be yours, I suppose, as I see that they have put your trunk there. The one on the left will be your room-mate's, and you will use this sitting-room in common."

After a few more words Dolly's companion pa.s.sed on, and the unfortunate Freshman wandered dolefully into her bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed where we first saw her.

As a rule, Dolly and tears were strangers, but just now poor Dolly felt unutterably miserable. Not only was she homesick, but she felt outside all the college fun and good camaraderie of the place.

"I ought to unpack that trunk and take off my things," she told herself, but she felt more inclined to run out of the door, back to the depot and on board the first train bound for her home.

"Well, of all the forlorn damsels I ever saw, you certainly are the worst, and I thought you looked so full of fun when I noticed you downstairs."

Dolly glanced up in surprise, to see a merry face regarding her from the doorway. The newcomer was much below medium height, with a very freckled face, very red, curly hair, and a very good-natured expression.

"Didn't you feel forlorn yourself last year?" retorted Dolly. "Or, if you are a dignified Junior or Senior, I suppose you have forgotten how poor little Freshmen feel, when they are dumped in with a lot of strangers. I am just like a cat in a strange garret."

"You are no stranger than I," and the newcomer ensconced herself in the only rocking-chair that the room afforded. "I'm a Freshman like yourself, only I got here last evening. I'm Elizabeth Newby, at your service," and she made a sweeping bow. "I saw you come in and I thought I'd make an early call, but I _did_ suppose you would have your things off by this time."

"It was awfully good of you to come," said Dolly gratefully. "I'll get my things off and brush up a bit." She turned and looked suddenly at her new acquaintance. "How does it come that you are not homesick?

Everything must be as strange to you as it is to me, but you look jolly and happy."

"I am," returned the other emphatically. "You may not know it, but homesickness is a luxury in which only the fortunate can indulge. I'm not troubled with it. Now tell me, can I help you with your trunk? My things are all in order. When you have fixed up your room and had Patrick put your trunk away, you will feel that you are here to stay, and you will begin to be more comfortable in your mind."

"If you don't mind helping me then," and Dolly commenced to tug at her straps energetically.

"I want to do it. I like to be poking into other people's affairs, it keeps one from thinking."

"Then you are homesick, after all?" and Dolly glanced up with twinkling eyes.

"No, I am not. I am only homesick because I am _not_ homesick, and that is Greek or worse to you."

Dolly gave her companion a keen look, but said no more. There was evidently something in the background, and Dolly surmised that Elizabeth's home-life, for some reason or other, was not as happy as it should be.

"What lovely, dainty things you have for your sitting-room!" and Elizabeth held up an armful of pretty articles with honest admiration.

"My room looks as prim as an old maid's. I never thought of these little accessories."

"Those are what I had in my room at home, and Mother thought that I had better bring them. They _will_ make these rooms look quite natural."

"They just will. I wish we were room-mates, for I haven't an earthly thing to trim up with, and neither has my room-mate."

"Who is your room-mate? Do you know her? Is she nice?"

"I don't know her. Her name is Margaret Ainsworth. She's a Soph.o.m.ore, and between ourselves I don't believe that we shall have much to do with each other."

"Then it was your room-mate who brought me here. I thought that she was a Junior at least."

"Only a Soph.o.m.ore, my dear, and a conditioned one at that, though to hear her talk you would suppose that she was taking a post-graduate course."

"Isn't it funny that she hasn't any little decorations for your sitting-room, as she is an old student?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "My brother says that I can heat water splendidly."]

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I found out that she expected to room with Charlotte Graves. They roomed together last year, you know, just by chance. The Faculty put them together just as they are giving us room-mates now, for I didn't know anyone with whom I wished to room this year, and I suppose you didn't. Well, Miss Graves is the richest girl here, and she had loads of beautiful things, so that their suite was just a dream of beauty, according to my room-mate's account. It seems that she was not as anxious to room with Miss Ainsworth again as Miss Ainsworth was to room with her, and she quietly made arrangements to have a room all to herself, and that is how it all happened. She was put in with me at the last moment, to our mutual disgust, I expect."

Dolly stopped in her unpacking. "I didn't know that anyone could room alone."

"You have to pay a steep price for the privilege, but Miss Graves can afford it. What a dear chafing-dish. Can you cook with it?"

"My brother says that I can heat water splendidly," and Dolly laughed.

"I don't think any girl with a brother is apt to grow conceited, though Fred is a dear and would do anything in the world for me. I really _can_ make lovely fudge, though, and very good tea. Mother was a little afraid of fire because of the alcohol lamp, but I have promised to be dreadfully careful. I have some chocolate in that box."

"Let's make fudge tonight," said Elizabeth, enthusiastically. "That will keep you from getting homesick. You can make it and I will eat it."

"Can we do it? I don't know anything about the rules here yet."

"There will not be many rules enforced this week. Professor Graydon told me that much. She is the teacher to whom you were talking when you first came in. I know I shall like her. I haven't made up my mind about the others yet."