E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
“I’M IN A DREADFUL FIX”
Betty Wales Freshman
BY
MARGARET WARDE
Author of
Betty Wales, Sophomore Betty Wales, Junior Betty Wales, Senior Betty Wales, B. A. Betty Wales & Co. Betty Wales on the Campus Betty Wales Decides
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
1921
Betty Wales, Freshman
BETTY WALES
CHAPTER I FIRST IMPRESSIONS
“Oh, dear, what if she shouldn’t meet me!” sighed Betty Wales for the hundredth time at least, as she gathered up her bags and umbrella, and followed the crowd of noisy, chattering girls off the train.
“So long, Mary. See you to-morrow.”
“Get a carriage, Nellie, that’s a dear. You’re so little you can always break through the crowd.”
“Hello, Susanna! Did you get on the campus too?”
“Thanks awfully, but I can’t to-night. My freshman cousin’s up, you know, and homesick and―”
“Oh, girls, isn’t it fun to be back?”
It all sounded so jolly and familiar. Weren’t any of them freshmen? Did they guess that she was a freshman “and homesick”? Betty straightened proudly and resolved that they should not. If only the registrar had got father’s telegram. As she stood hesitating on the station platform, amazed at the wilderness of trunks and certain that no one could possibly find her until that shouting, rushing mob in front of her had dispersed, a pretty girl in immaculate white duck hurried up to her.
“Pardon me,” she said, reaching out a hand for Betty’s golf clubs, “but aren’t you a stranger here? Could I help you, perhaps, about getting your luggage up?”
Betty looked at her doubtfully. “I don’t know,” she said. “Yes, I’m going to enter college, and my elder sister couldn’t get here until a later train. But father telegraphed the registrar to meet me. Do you know her? Could you point her out?”
The pretty girl’s lips curved into the faint suggestion of a smile. “Yes,” she said, “I know her–only too well for my peace of mind occasionally. But I’m afraid she hasn’t come to meet you. You see she’s very busy these first days–there are a great many of you freshman, all wanting different things. So she sends us down instead.”
“Oh, I see.” Betty’s face brightened. “Then if you would tell me how to get to Mrs. Chapin’s on Meriden Place.”
“Mrs. Chapin’s!” exclaimed the pretty girl. “That’s easy. Most of you want such outlandish streets. But that’s close to the campus, where I’m going myself. My time is just up, I’m happy to say. Give me your checks and your house number, and then we’ll take a car, unless you wouldn’t mind walking. It’s not far.”
On the way to Mrs. Chapin’s Betty learned that her new friend’s name was Dorothy King, that she was a junior and roomed in the Hilton House, that she went in for science, but was fond of music and was a member of the Glee Club; that she was back a day early for the express purpose of meeting freshmen at the trains. In return Betty explained how she had been obliged at the last moment to come east alone; how sister Nan, who was nine years older than she and five years out of college, was coming down from a house party at Kittery Point, but couldn’t get in till eight that night; and father had insisted that Betty be sure to arrive by daylight.
“Wales–Wales―” repeated the pretty junior. “Why, your sister must have been the clever Miss Wales in ’9-, the one who wrote so well and all. She is? How fine! I’m sorry, but I leave you here. Mrs. Chapin’s is that big yellow house, the second on the left side–yes. I know you’ll like it there. And Miss Wales, you mustn’t mind if the sophomores get hold of that joke about your asking the registrar to meet you. I won’t tell, but it will be sure to leak out somehow. You see it’s really awfully funny. The registrar is almost as important as the president, and a lot more dignified and unapproachable, until you get to know her. She’ll think it too good to keep, and the sophomores will be sure to get hold of it and put it in the book of grinds for their reception–souvenirs they give you, you know. Now good-bye. May I call later? Thank you so much. Good-bye.”
Betty was blushing hotly as she climbed Mrs. Chapin’s steps. But her chagrin at having proved herself so “verdant” a freshman was tempered with elation at the junior’s cordiality. “Nan said I wasn’t to run into friendships,” she reflected. “But she must be nice. She knows the Clays. Oh, I hope she won’t forget to come!”
Betty Wales had come to college without any particular enthusiasm for it, though she was naturally an enthusiastic person. She loved Nan dearly, but didn’t approve of her scheme of life, and wasn’t at all prepared to like college just because Nan had. Being so much younger than her sister, she had never visited her at Harding, but she had met a good many of her friends; and comparing their stories of life at Harding with the experiences of one or two of her own mates who were at the boarding-school, she had decided that of two evils she should prefer college, because there seemed to be more freedom and variety about it. Being of a philosophical turn of mind, she was now determined to enjoy herself, if possible. She pinned her faith to a remark that her favorite among all Nan’s friends had made to her that summer. “Oh, you’ll like college, Betty,” she had said. “Not just as Nan or I did, of course. Every girl has her own reasons for liking college–but every nice girl likes it.”
Betty decided that she had already found two of her reasons: the pretty Miss King and Mrs. Chapin’s piazza, which was exceedingly attractive for a boarding-house. A girl was lounging in a hammock behind the vines, and another in a big piazza chair was reading aloud to her. “They must be old girls,” thought Betty, “to seem so much at home.” Then she remembered that Mrs. Chapin had said hers would probably be an “all freshman house,” and decided that they were friends from the same town.
Mrs. Chapin presently appeared, to show Betty to her room and explain that her roommate would not arrive till the next morning. Betty dressed and then sat down to study for her French examination, which came next day; but before she had finished deciding which couch she preferred or where they could possibly put two desks and a tea-table, the bell rang for dinner.
